#cassian andor angst

[sankta-starkova]

BURN IT DOWN

029; THE END

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summary: the one where harlow kaz realised that the world was going to end but she decided to try and save it with the people that she cared about, no matter what it takes

wordcount: 2.4k

The second that Jyn and Harlow reached the roof platform, the latter collapsed onto her knees, her hands shaking as she tried to comprehend what had just happened.

But she didn't have time to grieve Cassians' death and instead shook off her terror and took a deep breath, standing on her feet and walking over to the console.

Harlow chuckled to herself when she saw the ships fighting in the sky, trying to save them on Scarif, and for the first time since they landed, she had hope that they'd make it home.

"I knew the Rebellion would come through for us," Jyn said, a smile on her face as she stood next to Harlow at the controls.

Jyn inserted the data pack and it locked on. Then Harlow put the key fob into the system and they both took a deep breath, waiting for it to start transmitting but it never did. 

"Reset antenna alignment," the machine said to the in a robotic voice and Harlow swore under her breath.

She couldn't believe that after everything that they had done, the antenna being in the wrong place was going to ruin it.

Harlow shook her head, tapping furiously on the keyboard and when it alerted her of needing a manual reset, she shook her head, unbuttoning her shirt to reveal her tank top and rolling her sleeves up.

"What are you doing?" Jyn asked, looking at the girl.

"I'm climbing that thing," Harlow said and Jyn knew her enough to recognise that determined look in her eyes. She wasn't going to be able to stop her.

Jyn nodded and Harlow began climbing. She had to keep climbing and climbing because if they didn't get this set back into place then Cassians death meant nothing.

When she reached the top, she took a second, letting the wind rush through her hair before she kicked it back onto place.

"It's locked in," Jyn called up to her and Harlow nodded, beginning her descent back down the antenna.

But as she stated to climb down, she watched the bridge that Jyn was on get blown up by a blast from a tie-fightwr, leaving her hanging on the ledge.

Harlow tried to climb down faster fo help Jyn but she couldn't due to the small footholds on the antenna - she couldn't risk it not aligning again.

"You okay down there?" She called out when she noticed that Jyn had managed ro climb back up.

Over the last week, she had become fast friends with jyn. The two shared a skeptic view of the rebellion but still trusted it wholeheartedly.

"Yeah, I'm plugging it in now," Jyn said and Harlow could hear the machine whirring.

She took a breather, standing at the top of the antenna ladder as she prepared to go back down. They had won, and somehow, she had lost everything. She couldn't help but think about Cassian lying on the floor of the tower.

Harlow was so preoccupied with her daydream that she didn't hear the door opening or the footsteps coming out of it.

But when she did realise, she saw Krennik standing there, "Who are you?" He asked.

As she looked at him, anger boiled in her veins. That was the man who had killed her Cassian. Her future. She wasn't going to let him get away with it.

"You know who I am," Jyn said, looking at him "I'm Jyn Erso, daughter of Galen and Lera, you've lost,"

Harlow began to quicken her climb down and prepared for a sneak attack, knowing that she was going to be coming down on the other side of the antenna.

"Have I?" Krennik questioned, clearly cocky about his invention.

He was like every other person who worked for the empire. They thought they were holier than though, always trying to control a situation and take credit.

But Jyn wasn't going to let him take any credit. Her father had saved the galaxy by building a flaw in the death star and right now, they were the only two who had proof.

"My father's revenge, he built a flaw in the death star and put a flaw in the middle of your machine, and I just told the entire galaxy how to light it," she said.

Jyn smirked when she saw the shock in his eyes even though he didn't change his demeanour at all. She wasn't going to let her father's death be in vain.

Harlow came round the corner, reaching down for her gun before realising that she had left it on the platform when she had climbed up.

"The shield is up, your signal will never reach the base, all your ships in the air will be destroyed," Krennik said, gun aimed at Jyn, "You die with the rebellion,"

Harlow had to think fast, grabbing her knife and throwing it at Krennik but she was roo slow. By th time that it had lodged itself in his chest, he had already shot Jyn.

The confusing thing wasn't that though, there was another blaster hole in his lower abdomen and Harlow turned around, eyes wide when she saw where th shot came from.

Her heart stalled as she looked at him. He had an obvious limp, and she could see the cuts and bruises on his body, but all that she cared about was the fact that he was standing there.

As his gun clattered to the floor, she ran over with all the strength that she could muster and pulled him into a hug, unable to let go as she held him tight.

She had tears in her eyes as she held him, taking a deep breath and imhaling the now fading smell of Cassian. The smell of home.

He winced and she pulled away, hand going up to his face to make sure that he was really there.

"You're alive, you're alive, you're a-" he kept repeating but she froze when she remembered what had happened.

Harlows head whipped around and she rushed over to Jyns body as she lay there, a blaster wound in her stomach.

"Don't die on me Jyn, don't," she said, pressing her hand on the wound even though she knew it wouldn't save her.

Jyns eyes fluttered open and she spluttered slightly, "We saved them," the dying girl said and Harlow looked around.

Just before she had confronted Krennik, she had pressed th button and sent the plans to the entire galaxy. The empire had lost.

"You saved them. Without you, we would have nothing," she said, tears spilling over her cheeks as she looked at the film

"My father saved them," Jyn said, her eyes fluttering open and closed as she took heavy breaths.

Cassian came over, falling to his knees as he sat next to her. Despite the fact that she had annoyed him msor of the time she'd been there, he knew she was a hero to everyone.

"We will make sure they know what the Erso family has done for the galaxy," He said, a smile on her face.

Jyns eyes closed, "My father," she whispered, her voice weak and strained and on the next second. She was dead.

"Jyn, Jyn, shit," Harlow said and Cassian pulled her in for a hug, ignoring the fact that it hurt him. She needed him right no.

They had lost so much on this battle and now Jyn had died too. Harlow didn't know how much mourning one person could take in a life bit she was getting close.

"Lets go," Harlow said, unable to even look at Kyns body anymore.

She stood up, helping Cassian up as well and there was this sinking feeling in her stomach as she realised that she was going to have to leave Jyn here.

She had lost so many people who didn't have proper funerals, who didn't have anyone to mourn them and it was a frightening concept, to know nobody would remember your name.

They started to walk away when she noticed just how much pain he was really in. He might not make it out.

When he had fallen down, he had been dazed for a little while. He had heard her cries for him and her sobs as she kept climbing. He never doubted that she would stop climbing.

When he managed to muster up the strength to follow after her and Jyn, he knew that he had to protect them both from Krennik who had left after he had killed Cassian.

He had ignored the shooting pain through his body as he climbed up, rung by rung, to the top.

He had never been so close to death before. He had gotten himself into scrapes ever since he was young but never had he contemplated just staying there and letting it all go.

All Cassian could think about was Harlow up there and if he could save her and save the world from tyranny, then he would.

"Are you okay?" Harlow asked, breaking him out of his thoughts from his near death experience.

"Everything hurts but I'm not dead so," he said, trying to clear the air.

She looked at him, eyes trailing over his face as she double checked if he was okay. She knew that they would be able to help him when they got back to the rebellion.

"Do you think anybody listening?" He asked.

She smild to herself, she had never heard him say something like that, "I do, someone's out there," she said.

They walked to the elevator and Cassian leant against the wall of it, taking a breath and taking the pressure off of his leg.

He turned his head, eyes fluttering open as she looked at her in the flickering lights; the power had been broken on Scarif by the rebels.

She had always been beautiful to him, from the moment she took her hood off in that warehouse and to now as they stood there, potentially awaiting their deaths.

As Cassian looked at her, studying her face like he would never see her again, he accepted the idea of death for the first time in his life.

He leand over, ignoring the aching in his body as he placed a hand on her cheek, wiping the dirt away.

Cassian kissed her in that elevator as the lights flickered on and off, eyes closed as he took in the moment. It was sweet snd tender as they both relished in the fact that they had each other.

They had both lost everything for the rebellion but as they stood in that elevator, the rest of the world silent, it was just the two of them.

The door opened and he pulled away, her eyelashes fluttering opening against his cheeks. The light flooded into the elevator and they looked out to see it was completely empty.

Harlow let out a breath that she hadn't realised that she had been holding - she had ben horrified that the empire would be waiting for them outside the door, ready to kill them.

But she had been ready for it anyway, to die holding Cassian, with his lips on hers. She had never felt that at peace before.

They started to walk out, ready to find rhe ship and try to find a way out of this planet. With his limp and potentially broken leg, she didn't know how far they'd make it but they'd try.

That's what Nemik had said 5 years ago in his manifesto. That they just needed to try and shed kept that idea ever since. When she'd been stabbed, she tried ro make it out. She always tried.

But when she saw the death star hovering in the distance, her breath caught in her throat. Cassian followed her gaze, letting out a sigh.

"We're too late," she said, her voice almost quiet as she tried to stop the tears from falling.

The ticking clock of death was beginning to chime in her mind, reminding her that she had less than an hour to live.

"I want to go to the beach," cassian said and she looked at him, nodding her heads.

They started walking, his leg almost getting better as he was determined ro make it the short distance to the sand.

She shielded his face from their fallen comrades on the floor as they both realised they may be the only ones tht survived the onslaught.

They both collapsed on the floor as soon as they got there. Harlow hadn't shed a tear since she thought Cassian had died and she wasn't going to now. She was ready to go.

He reached over, hand grabbing hers as he noticed her watching the green flash of lightning hit the horizon and she thought back to the destruction of Jedha.

Her heart was pounding in her chest but she kept her composure, knowing that there was nothing she could do now but die.

She turned to look at him, "Nemik, Cinta, my parents, your parents, Jyn, K2," she said, "They gave everything for this fight, how do we beat this?"

Cassian sat there for a second, thinking about what was going to happen before nodding his head, "The rebellion will find a way, my love," he said, and she nodded, fighting off the tears.

There's nothing else left to say as the horizon began to crumble, the ground pulling away from itself just like it had done in Jedha.

She looked at him one last time, studying the way his face looked because both of them knew tht they'd never see it again.

Harlow didn't regret a thing. She could have easily forgotten Cassian had existed and gone back to working in the senate but she chose him.

She would always choose him and now as she faced her death, she was still choosing him.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her tight against him, wanting to hold her when they died. That was such a surreal thought to Cassian, dying. But now it was inevitable.

She buried her head in his neck, "I love you Kassa," she mumbled, knowing it was the last thing she'd ever say.

"I love you too," he said, eyes going wide as the bright light came closer and closer until it engulfed them completely.

And then, it was just over.

[senselessviolets]

"so come on, mess me up."

Cassian Andor x Original Character

Rated M (Smut/Angst)

Word Count: 4.1k

AO3 Link

WARNINGS:

Unprotected sex, age gap/difference, power imbalance, rough sex, oral (f recieving), taunting, lots of arguing.

Author's Notes:

Song title (and fic very loosely inspired by) "Come On Mess Me Up" by Cub Sport. I'd let this man snap me in half like a toothpick, what more can I say?

Nyla Haccard is the 23-year-old daughter of a high-profile senator from Ralltiir and has secretly joined the Rebel Alliance fight against the Empire. She figures her overly-protective mother would annihilate her for joining the band of rebels, but Nyla knows she'd absolutely implode if she knew the kind of man her daughter had been working closely with for months now.

There was something delectably frustrating about him. It was innate as if his sole purpose in life was to throw me off balance. Our relationship hadn’t begun to take shape until we started being assigned to the same missions. We were efficient and always managed to get the job done relatively unscathed. Our case officer, General Draven, saw value in Cassian taking someone like me under his wing. I’d shown enough promise or they wouldn’t have recruited me in the first place. My family ties to the Senate gave me access that they couldn’t afford to lose. 

We represented Ralltiir, hailing from a long line of masons who became wealthy mining the endless deposits of marble embedded in the planet’s core. Regardless of what riches we’d come into; a long successful lineage was the truest indicator of wealth in the Inner Core. It’s why my parents shelled out every last cent they had to send me and my five other siblings to the finest educational institutes across the galaxy. My brothers and sisters all attended university on Coruscant. They dreamed of securing cushy jobs in the Senate all the while playing dress-up as politicians. I made a point of getting as far away from that way of life as I could, begging my mother and father to let me attend Theed University on Naboo. I’d said I wanted to pursue the arts and embrace my creativity. Of course, this was all a lie and a cover to join the Rebel Alliance in the fight to overthrow the Empire.

It was a relatively simple facade to maintain. Due to me being the ‘middle child’ and the most average of the family, I was able to fly under the radar rather easily. The vast amount of space in between us didn’t hurt either. I would have to take the occasional holotransmission and pray they couldn’t hear the loud metal clanking sounds of X-Wings being repaired in the background. Every family gathering—a bornday, Life Day, or some Imperial soiree—was an opportunity. At least that’s what General Draven told me back when I initially joined. Did part of me feel some intense pang of guilt in my stomach every time my mother would wrap me in a big embrace, knowing I was secretly siphoning intel off of her personal datapad? 

Of course. But that was a small price to pay for the cause. 

Gods know people had given up far more to get to where we are now. Cassian never let me forget that. Any hint of ungratefulness from me and he’d chew me out like there was no tomorrow. This latest briefing was no different. Me, him, and several other rebels were summoned at mealtime. We were meant to be discreet and to keep things strictly on a need-to-know basis which Cassian also hounded me for on the way to the briefing.

“...Draven means it, Ny. He does not want any chatter about this. It stays on the ground floor so no gossiping to your friends about it. Do you got it?” he chastises. 

“Oh, I’ve got it,” I say, my eyes finding their way to the ceiling, “Thanks for the much-needed reminder though.”

I pivot through the doorway of the mostly vacant strategy room. Draven, Vesti, Amon, and Zu-Lee stand waiting quietly around the holotable. A figure adorned in white walks into view, right out of the corner of my eye.

“Senator Mothma, I-I wasn’t expecting to see you,” I say, caught off guard by her appearance. 

Her presence was rare due to her being an incredibly busy woman but when she was here, you could feel it everywhere else. The energy becomes different. Things felt more certain and objectives became clearer. Mothma was more than pivotal; she was practically the lifeline of the cause.

“...how is your mother?” she asks, giving me a modest smile. 

“She is well,” I nod, “Thank you.”

Draven stands up straight, casting the blueprint of an unknown building onto the holotable. 

“Well, now that we’re all accounted for…let’s begin.”

///

“This is not gonna work,” Cassian mutters to himself, moments after exiting the strategy room.

I don’t think he had intended for me to hear him because when I intercept him in the hallway, Cassian feigns ignorance. 

“What did you just say?” I frown. 

“I didn’t say anything,” he says, even quieter.

“Don’t do that. Don’t be like that,”

“Don’t be like what?”

“Like a damn child! If you’ve got a problem with something, how about you speak up and come at it like an adult? Instead of this grumbly mumbly shit you love to pull whenever something doesn’t go your way,”

I can see something snap behind his eyes. I’m sure being deemed a child by someone so much younger than him had to be a major blow to his ego. He takes me by both shoulders and pulls me out of the flow of foot traffic and over to the side. We’re better secluded in the nook we find ourselves in. He briefly looks over his shoulder, ensuring we haven’t caused any disturbance. 

“I’ll have you know I didn’t have any expectations for this mission! Any! I didn’t know what base we were meant to infiltrate or which Imperial Officer we were supposed to track down!” Cassian says through gritted teeth, “How could I have any idea what this would entail?”

“Gods, you know what I mean. Just say you don’t think I can handle it. Just say you don’t think I’m good enough for the job—”

“You know that’s not how I feel!” “Then stop acting like that’s how you feel, asshole!” 

I storm away from Cassian, not giving so much as a glance back at him. But suddenly my movements are halted and I find a firm hand around my wrist. It’s tight, not enough to hurt or bruise but hard and swift enough to send a shockwave throughout the rest of my body. 

“Let go of me,” I say, lowly.

I hardly struggle. His jaw is clenched and brown eyes attempt to pry open my soul. We’re so close, that our breaths repel off of each other. A loose lock of umber-colored hair falls in front of his face—just above his eyelashes—and I try to suppress any sort of expression that follows. I’d be panting from the sheer tensity of the argument but pride tells me to keep it together. I can’t afford to unravel in front of him. Then I’d only be confirming his seemingly preconceived notions of me; that I’m not good enough. 

That I’m not cut out for the job. 

“Let go of me, you bastard!” I yell, far too loudly.

Silence overtakes the hallway and several passerbys stop in their tracks. I recognize one of them being a sentry from the recon-tower above base. He must be off for the night. I bet this altercation he’s just witnessed will worm its way into his and his pals’s topics of discussion in the Mess Hall later on. My mind is going a mile a minute. I can feel the blood thumping in my ears and the warm red hue that floods my cheeks. Embarrassment was an understatement. 

“I said, let go…” I say, sighing as he releases me. 

I speed off in the other direction, heading straight for my quarters. I don’t look back until I’m safe and secure behind the sliding door of my barracks. My heart still beats with vigor. A puff of air escapes my lips as I take a few steps forward and let myself fall face-first into my sleeper, groaning into my pillow. Cassian must really be that exhausting because, after a moment, I find myself drifting off. 

And away I go.

///

“Ny…Nyla? I-It’s me. Are you in there?” a haggard voice asks behind the door of my quarters, “Nyla?”

My eyes snap and I lift my head begrudgingly. 

“No, I’m not. Come back later perhaps?” 

“We need to talk. Sooner would be preferred,”

“Maybe I don’t care about what you prefer. Or what you want. So piss off.” I spit. 

The doors slide open before I even have time to react. I scramble to my feet as a silhouette–a mere blur in my peripheral—strides towards me. I pivot so I’m facing him. In my sleep, I must have shed a few layers. I’m only left with my bare essentials; attire he’d seen me in plenty of times before aboard his ship during particularly long journeys. I’m not entirely sure how much time has passed since we last saw each other but Cassian’s still wearing the same clothes. His jaw is clenched. There’s a fervor behind his eyes. 

Clearly, he came with an agenda.

“Oh, did you not hear me correctly? I believe I said…‘scram’,” I mock, making dramatic gestures in front of his face. 

“Enough of that,” he grunts, “You did a real good job making a fool of yourself back there. But then again, you’ve never been the most subtle, have you?”

“Subtle? You wanna talk about subtlety? How many bodies have I had to drag out of sight because you couldn’t show some damn trigger discipline, hm? And you want to paint me as the brash, impulsive one. That’s cute,”  

He paces across the room, letting his emotions drive his movement. 

“I should never have taken Draven’s offer. Evidently, it was a mistake. Us being assigned together. You’re impossible. You’re immature, spoiled, selfish, and have no grasp of what we’re up against,”

“Don’t you say that! Don’t you ever say that! I know what’s at stake. I know the risks. I’m not in it for the same personal glory you are. Who are you trying to impress seriously? No, seriously. Who? The other girls on base?” I scoff, “Please. If only you knew what they had to say about you,”

“I don’t care about that,” Cassian tries to convince himself.

I saunter closer to his position. His feet stay firmly planted. He doesn’t turn away. Our eyes are locked on one another. I don’t think I’ve ever held someone’s gaze for this long, much less a man’s.

“Sure you don’t,” I say in a drawl, “...y’know, it’s a big galaxy, Cass, but word travels fast. I know your type. I know how the second you see a married woman…you do cartwheels. You’re a complete and total skeeze. Through and through,”

Something shifts within him.

“...what else…what else have you heard about me, hm? Do you think a man like me…the type of man you think I am…would be able to stand this close to a beautiful woman and not be able to resist her?”

“W-Well, I’m not married so…I wouldn’t do it for you, I don’t think,” I say, lowly. 

I notice a stray piece of lint on the shoulder of his jacket. Nonchalantly, I go to brush it off of him but Cassian’s reflexes beat me to it. In a split second, his hand has encased itself around my wrist. His reaction startles me so much, that I laugh from the brief terror.

“Gods, would you relax! There was something on your jacket, I was just–”

“Don’t laugh at me like that.”

“...why not? I thought you didn’t care about what women thought of you. Mm, but maybe…maybe I’m the exception…am I just that irresistible, huh?”

I notice his eyes dart slightly down several times. It wouldn’t be until later that I’d realize he was fixated on my lips. His grip on my wrist doesn’t loosen but I’m not exactly itching to get him off of me. 

“Well…,” he begins.

“Well, what, Cass?”

“...aren’t you going to yell for me to let go?”

Ignoring the heat from somewhere deep within me, I decidedly pursed my lips, simultaneously sealing my fate. Leading the way, I pull us in the direction of my sleeper. He follows along as if my wrist were his guide. I sit on the edge of my bed, scooting back until we’re both completely on it. He props himself up with his free hand, pinning my hand to the mattress. A slight roll of my hips brings my thigh right into the front of his pants. This simple manuever has rendered him breathless it seems. Those frantic eyes don’t know whether to land on my own or my lips. I choose for him, leaning upwards into a firm but passionate kiss. His eyes flutter shut and I feel his lashes brush against my own. I swear I hear the slightest rasp of a whine in the back of his throat but before I know it—his two hands have found purchase on both sides of my face. He takes charge, his tongue ghosting across mine. I swear I feel lightheaded, even though I’ve done nothing strenuous enough to warrant such a symptom. 

“We…,” he moans in between kisses, “...we can’t be doing this,”

My lips find their way into the crook of his neck, grazing my teeth against the firm flesh. 

“Why?” I immediately challenge, “Because you’re older…because you’re my superior…because if they found out, they’d find the nearest moon and dump me there? No chance. They don’t give a shit. Are you even listening to yourself right now?”

“Less talking,” he says slowly, dragging his cold calloused hands up my stomach, “...fuck. You’re warm.” 

The fabric of my tank top catches on his fingertips and he pulls the shirt above my chest, exposing myself to him. Maybe a more decent man might take a delicate pace but Cassian wastes no time exploring my body. His hot wet mouth is everywhere. I don’t stifle my whimpers in the slightest. 

“It’s wrong….it’s wrong to want the things I want from you,” he growls, mouth full of flesh.

“What do you want from me then?”

In an instant, he’s off the bed and using my hips as handgrips to tug me to the very edge so my rear is hanging limp off of it, only held up by his shoulders. It’s a swift and seductive show of strength that I quickly try to take a mental snapshot of, knowing I’ll be thinking about it later. I wonder briefly if it's a technique he mastered over the years spent with many lovers. Beyond the obvious slick gathering between my thighs, my level of excitement only blooms at the thought of what else he might have in store.  He makes quick work of my bottoms, speckling my thighs with kisses all over as he traverses upwards to where I want him the most. Sometimes those kisses turn into gentle little bites. I practically squeal at the sensation, giggling as I feel him smile against my skin. I’m too shy in the moment to look down in his direction but I let my hand wander until I feel his umber locks, stroking softly when I find him. And then two chilled fingers run from the top of my mound downwards, pausing to circle my opening.

“This wet already, hm? What? Am I just that irresistible?” he playfully mocks me. 

I yank on his hair roughly in protest, to which I receive a light slap on my thigh.

“Hey. Behave,” Cassian says, dipping his tongue into me.

The whine that emits from my lips is so pathetic, that I expect him to give me a hard time about it—maybe do another hilarious impression of me. Instead, he has found far more productive uses for that mouth of his. That mouth I’ve wanted to slap him because of more times than I can count. The same one I’ve fantasized about absolutely devouring me ever since we first met. It was exactly as I’d imagined it.

The heat of his tongue, followed immediately by his cool breath as he inhales before diving in again. Before he inhales me. His head locked between my thighs, driving my lower half upwards as his strong shoulders rise. Clearly, his confidence is growing. I finally am feeling bold enough to look down. All I can see is a head of hair moving rapidly, desperate to keep up with the gyration of my hips. As if he can sense me looking down, he looks up, palming around for my other hand. I give it to him and our fingers interlock.

The intimacy brings me even closer to the edge. Before squeezing my palm tightly, Cassian then brings my hand to his scalp. For a moment I’m confused but then I realize that he wants me to use both of my hands to drive his head further into my cunt. So his hair momentarily becomes reins that I use at my discretion. I’m not gentle, but I’ve more than gotten the impression by now that he doesn’t want me to be. I’m erratic. I’m frenzied. I’m certainly not doing anything to dispel the “selfish” accusation he lobbed at me maybe ten minutes prior. 

That feels like a lifetime ago at this point though.

The pleasure growing from my depths is a warm and angry one. I didn’t know I could feel like this; I didn’t know I would like feeling like this. That same pleasure nearly spills over before Cassian positions me once again using my hips. This time he turns me over onto my stomach. The hand he has pressed into the small of my back keeps me in place. His other one is trying to free himself of his trousers desperately. Struggling to undo the buckle one-handed, I sit up, reaching back to offer him a hand of my own. My head bounces down onto the mattress as he swiftly pins both of my wrists to my back and with a grunt, manages to finally rip the belt and his pants off. 

“Not going to lie, I figure you’d make me finish,” I pant, “...but only so you could lord it over me ‘till the end of time,”

“Oh, baby. You think I’m done with you?” The combined use of baby and the intrusion of his cock entering me have me moaning wantonly. Cassian slowly bottoms out, jutting his hips so he’s as deep as physically possible. He’s almost flattened himself on top of me, the scruff of his beard prickling at my left ear. 

“Would the type of man you think I am go slow like this?” he coos, “Huh, baby? Or would he fuck you hard and rough like he paid for it?”

Cassian’s teeth nip the edge of my ear and I gasp. But the sudden punishing pace that he rails into me with practically has me winded. Every time he collides with my core, I’m left seeing stars. It’s indescribable. Like a flick of spark a flint and steel would give you. It’s hot and blinding and gone in an instant. Over and over again. 

“Touch yourself if you need,” Cass rasps, “but I’m not stopping.”

He gives me back one of my hands and I immediately go for my clit. My smaller more acute thrusts are a nice contrast to his more broad, all-encompassing ones. Meanwhile, he’s now moved on to grabbing my shoulders and using those to propel himself rapidly. It’s all so blissful and brutal. I don’t want it to end but I know if he continued like this for an eternity, I’d be broken down to a speck of nothing in no time.

It was almost a guarantee that I was going to be sore tomorrow. Future-Me was probably cursing the Present-Me for allowing him to go at it so hard but that was her problem to deal with. My only objective was to finish myself off before he could. I did not want to give that bastard the satisfaction. But the scent of myself in his facial hair made me realize what a lost cause that was. Before I know it, I’m spasming around him, cursing his name in a series of sobs. My mind goes blank and I’m pliant as he continues pushing into me. 

“Where d’you want me?” he says in a tone so husked I can barely understand him at first.

“Want you?”

“Want it. Where do you want it?” he reiterates.

“In me,” I murmur. 

“In you? Are you sure?”

“Did I stutter?” 

Cassian presses down on me hard as he cums and I groan. I can feel him throb inside of me. His hands now trace along my jaw, finally halting his movements whilst giving me a bit of reprieve. My quarters’ steady silence is soon deafening. We can hear everything; our rampant heartbeats, the wetness connecting us, the sound of skin simply brushing against skin. If he were a lover, it would be a beautiful moment. A moment of reflection, mutual understanding even. A reminder that what we were doing was okay and that we both cared for one another and we were safe.

With Cassian, these were partial truths. I have to suppress the part of me that wishes we were whole, that we had something beyond this shared neverending fight for survival. He gives me a feather-light kiss on the back of my neck. Something so tender that could only come from a partner. Maybe we could pretend. Maybe we would pretend. Show each other a brief devotion and chase off the doubts that swarmed us constantly. Outflank the regret and shame and make them both go darting off in the other direction.

Our greatest fears would fear us instead.

It was a nice escape from the happenstance. Is it strange that it wasn’t until this very moment that I fully processed Cassian being inside of me? Witnessing my most inner self. The man who I’ve wanted to punch more times than I can count. I burst out laughing at the thought. 

“What? What is it?” he smiles, lifting off of me.

“Nothing,” I giggle, “It’s nothing, it’s just…you.”

I turn over, sighing a sigh that could only be sighed from a girl who’d just gotten her brains fucked out. Cassian rolls out of my bed and I’m able to finally get a good look at his physique. He’s about as toned as I’d expect him to be and his chest hair is trimmed and neat. It’s a brief spell of sightseeing as Cassian is quick to redress. I hardly have the energy to make myself neat again, instead opting to use my bedding to obscure my lower half. Once I get the notion that he’s about to depart, I stop to query him. Not because I was hoping we would cuddle afterward (I never saw him as the type), but because I was curious what kind of shenanigans he was going to get up to before we’d have to leave in the morning. 

“...the U-wing. There’s some upkeep I have to do if we’re to make it off the surface successfully…for the mission,” he answers with a small smirk.

Color me surprised.

“W-Wait, so…you’re gonna let me go through with it? You’re not gonna blab to Draven like you said you would?”

“After having some time to reconsider…and to…cool off, I have had a change of mind,”

“Yeah, I wonder what spurred that,” I scoff, bringing the sheets up over my chest. 

“That’s not what I meant, Ny. I-I hold out on you sometimes…because I don’t want you getting hurt. Or killed. I have a lot I carry with me but…I’d rather not add you to that list if you know what I mean,”

I swallow thickly. Finally, some insight. Some clarity into this man’s thought process and psyche. But part of me questions if it’s unveiled itself too late. The damage was done. I lean forward and swing my legs off the side of the bed, looking up at him with doe eyes. He tenderly brushes a few stray locks of hair away from my face. 

“...t-that’s fine, Cass. But for this to work, I need you to believe that when the time comes and it's down to the wire and things are looking dark…that I’ll be able to handle it. Handle myself. Handle whatever gets thrown at us. I’d ask you to trust me but...we both know how little weight that word holds in this pursuit. So I’ll ask you instead…can you believe in me?”

A moment of stillness passes.

“Yes,” he says, firmly, “but that doesn’t mean I’m still not gonna do everything in my power to save your skin when the time comes. No matter how much you drive me crazy.”

End.

[hottpinkpenguin]

Reasons, Ch.6 - Cassian Andor series

Female reader insert Summary: You're a droidsmith on Ferrix when a handsome stranger walks in one day with a hopelessly damaged droid. You agree to take on the repairs for the stranger, a decision that will change the direction of your lives forever. Word Count: 2,260 Content Warnings for: canon-divergence; cursing Taglist: @mithicakurogo @nonniecannie @freerangesweets @zbeez-outlet @chicken-fifi @queerponcho @theatergirlmgm @oh-yeah-i-exist @shakespeareanlead @idontevenknow1359

The sound of waves licking the sandy beach below had become a steady soundtrack that pounded around your head all hours of the day and night. You’d at first been mesmerized by the planet Niamos - to think, its inhabitants lived within full eyesight of an ocean at all times - but now, almost three and a half months after your frenetic arrival, boredom mixed with fear had gotten inextricably mixed with the sounds and smells of the ocean and you realized that you hated it here. Especially without Cassian.

He hadn’t stayed long, maybe two days. He’d dumped you in this beautiful, empty house and left with barely a word…

“I need to see my contact on Coruscant.” His dark eyes were red-rimmed from lack of sleep and cold. “Need to sort out safe passage for you. Get forged papers, new documents. It’ll take a while.”

You’d breathed in a heavy, long breath. Exhaustion had settled deep in the center of your bones, but what choice did you have? You were a fugitive now.

You nodded numbly, looking longing out through the perpetually-open wall of glass at the ocean stretched out to the horizon line. 

“I’ll go pack,” you replied, sliding out of the chair you were in and heading towards the bedroom you were staying in. “Won’t take long.”

Cassian caught your hand as you turned away. His touch sent electricity ricocheting up your arm, stealing your breath. You turned back to him, wondering if you looked as hopeful as you felt. 

“I’m going alone,” he clarified. His voice sounded sad and far away, but those dark, bottomless eyes revealed nothing. 

You didn’t know what to say. What to ask. Where would you stay? Here, you supposed, only because there was nowhere else to go. You’d realized very quickly that the Galaxy was massive, and you’d never left Ferrix before. The only person that you knew out here was Cassian, and laying claim to ‘knowing’ him felt like a lie. You felt that now more than ever. You didn’t really know him at all. 

You felt yourself give a shrug. Half resignation, half confusion. Cassian watched you quietly as you slid back into the chair, your eyes returning to the waves. Each time a new wave boiled up from the ocean depths, crested, and then crashed in a spray of foam on the seashore, you felt a new emotion rise up and crash open inside you. Grief. Rage. Despair. Terror. 

You don’t know how long you’d sat there, staring at the sea. After a long while of sitting still and thinking, you said the only thing that really mattered to you anymore. “Don’t forget to come back for me.”

Cassian hadn’t said a word after that. He’d simply slipped out the door without so much as a backwards glance. Leaving you to the empty house that looked out over the empty ocean…

The realization that Cassian wasn’t coming back for you had hit you somewhere around week seven. He hadn’t left a way for you to contact him, or vice versa. He hadn’t sent anyone to check on you. He hadn’t squirreled away a secret note or some small token of his remembrance. It was like he’d never been here at all. And that was by design. He was covering his tracks. Sure, you were on the run. But so was he. 

You wondered where in the escape things had gone sideways. He’d seemed so deliriously guilty about getting you tied up with the Empire when he’d broken into your home on Ferrix. He’d been tender in taking care of you after hyperdrive sickness, and then he’d brought you here. To safety. Because he cared… right?

There was one moment that everything had pivoted. You could barely bring yourself to think of it. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment (and desire, if you were completely truthful) each time you relived that kiss. It had to be the kiss. You’d crossed a line, you told yourself. Cassian was just trying to save your skin, and you’d gone and made it some sort of tragedy-romance mashup of bad luck and bad decisions when you’d slapped your lips on his. I’ve always been a good actor. You’d never forget those words. He’d been acting as the good guy, trying to make up for his wrongs by pulling you out of Ferrix. But that’s where it had ended. You’d fallen for his show, and you’d ruined everything. And now, you were alone. Just you and the ocean. 

Three and a half months was a long time to be by yourself. You’d managed to get by on the credits you’d had the sense to pack before fleeing your home, but that supply was dwindling. Pretty soon you’d have to make a choice: go home, or set up shop here. You’d have to fix droids. It was all you knew. But setting up shop somewhere new was bound to be fraught with challenges. You didn’t know the market, didn’t have a customer base. There were bound to be other droidsmiths on Niamos, so you’d be making enemies while you were bowing and scraping, taking whatever anyone would throw at you, all in the name of buying trust and goodwill and maybe, hopefully, a repeat customer. 

But worst of all, setting up shop here felt final. Setting up shop here meant that you wouldn’t be leaving. That this was home now. And, at the end of the day, that meant that Cassian wasn’t coming back. 

You hated him for leaving you, but not enough to give up all hope. Not yet. You counted the credits you had left. One more week, you thought to yourself. If he’s not back by then, I’ll start looking for shop space. 

An empty promise, you knew. You’d made the same one for the last four weeks.

* * * * * * * * *

Cassian felt fire burning in his veins as he held Senator Mothma’s gaze, her last words hanging heavy in the darkness between them. 

“I cannot afford to wait another week,” Cassian growled through gritted teeth, his hands trembling at his side. “It’s been almost four months already, Senator.”

Senator Mothma fidgeted uncomfortably with the large hood that obscured her face from the ambient light of a Coruscant night. They were quite alone in the rancid-smelling alley that Cassian had chosen for their meet-up, but the hum of the city-planet rang in their ears. A reminder to be quick, and be on their way. 

“I’m sorry, Cassian, I truly am, but I simply canno-”

“Senator, with respect, I am tired of your apologies.” Cassian was pacing now, his voice breaking free of the constraints of whispering. His temper was fracturing with impatience. “My contact on Niamos is in constant danger, and you’ve kept us waiting for four months for papers!”

“Cassian, please.” The Senator cast a shifty glance around. No one was listening, but the last thing either of them needed was to make a spectacle of the exchange. A Senator caught in a clandestine midnight meeting with a known Rebellion agitator would do neither of them any good. To say nothing of the warrant for Cassian’s arrest and the bounty price of half a million credits on his head. Or the Senator’s deeply scrutinized allegiances and alleged ties to the Aldhani incident. 

Cassian tried to calm himself, but he was beyond reason. All he could see was your eyes, the way you’d crumpled when he’d told you he was coming to Coruscant alone. It had nearly broken him to leave you there, but the brutal calculus of life as a wanted criminal demanded the utmost adherence to scruples. Cassian couldn’t risk your life just to keep you near him. It would have been easy - too easy - to delude himself into thinking that the safest place for you was by his side. Right where he wanted you. But he’d already proven himself near-fatal to you, almost getting you good and shot on Ferrix just by trying to pay off his massive debt with some traced credits. And all that had been before that goddamned kiss. After that, he was sunk. Totally enraptured. He knew it from the instant he felt your lips on his. No, he was in far too deep. If it was the last thing he did, Cassian Andor meant to make good on his promise to you: he needed to get you set up somewhere safe and then make it so that you never saw him again. It was the best way - the only way - he could see to keep you safe. And as badly as he wanted you, he wanted you alive. More than anything, that was what mattered. 

He reminded himself of all of this, one painstaking bitter pill at a time. Slowly, incrementally, he felt the fire begin to burn off as his mind cleared to reason. When he finally felt calm enough to speak, he rounded on Senator Mothma.

“Senator, it gives me no pleasure to do this, but I simply cannot wait any longer. If I don’t have the papers I’ve requested - and paid for, mind you - by tomorrow, I’ll have to take matters in my own hands.” 

Senator Mothma inhaled, her chin jutting out proudly as her eyes simmered. “And just what does that mean, Cassian?” Puffed up and haughty, but Cassian saw a flicker of fear in the back of her eyes. She knew a threat when she heard one. And Cassian had been honest about one thing: it really didn’t give him any pleasure to play this hand with the Senator. She was a noble woman, strong in her beliefs and an astoundingly deft political operative. Smart and confident. Cassian respected her immensely. But, when all was said and done, she was proving to be a hindrance. Cassian had promises to fulfill. Or rather, promise. Singular. Your safety. He was determined that nothing - not the Senator’s delicate political situation, not an outstanding warrant for his arrest, not an entire garrison of Imperial Storm Troopers - would stand in his way.

“Let’s hope you don’t have to find out, Senator.” 

For a few tense seconds, the two of them sized each other up in the hazy darkness. Cassian’s gaze was steely, his resolve never stronger. Three months, three weeks, two days. His internal clock screeched like a tea kettle. Too long. 

After a few breaths, Senator Mothma deflated slightly, her head sagging on her proud neck. The way she crumpled, like a kite that’s lost its breeze, reminded Cassian of the way you’d looked as he’d left you alone by the seashore on Niamos. The memory brought the threat of tears to his eyes. 

“I’ll get them to you,” the Senator agreed. Her voice sounded stretched and thin. Cassian felt a pang of guilt for having to push her to this. He knew what she was risking - her career in the Senate, her daughter’s and husband’s safety, her own life - to get these forged identichips. Ever since the Empire had assumed power, identichips had become mandatory for Imperial citizens to carry at all times. Forged chips had quickly flourished as one of the most lucrative corners of the black market, but the Empire had expended considerable effort on quashing that enterprise in its infancy. Those willing to alter identichips were few and far between now; those willing to forge entirely new ones, even fewer. Only the very wealthy had enough credits to realistically purchase such a service, but forgers made themselves extremely scarce in efforts to avoid Imperial imprisonment. Not that Cassian blamed them - wasn’t that the fate he was trying to save you from, after all? - but their secretiveness had proven an unexpected time suck on his plans. Months had dragged by before Senator Mothma had even made contact with one, and now her order hadn’t been delivered on schedule. Cassian wasn’t sure what it would cost her to extort the identichips tonight, but he couldn’t allow himself to backtrack now. 

“Thank you.” He exhaled heavily, unsure if he felt relieved or more terrified than before. He’d been focusing for so long on getting the identichips that he hadn’t let himself think too hard on what would come after. Were you still on Niamos? Would you still want his help? Had the Empire found you? Were you still alive at all?

Unwilling to follow those thoughts any further, Cassian simply handed Senator Mothma a small strip of paper with a ship’s name and docking location scribbled on it. “I’m leaving at midday tomorrow,” he told her as she crumpled the paper and slipped it into the pocket of her robe. “Make sure my chips are on board by then.” 

She nodded again - a sad, completely exhausted acquiescence - and turned on her heels, vanishing into the foggy street. Cassian watched as she left, listening to the sound of her retreating footsteps. She was walking away with the power to make or break him, Cassian realized. If she didn’t deliver those chips, and Cassian couldn’t get back to you… 

He wasn’t sure what that would mean for him, except that his heart turned to ash in his chest whenever he thought of that possibility. Steeling himself against the mix of dread, relief, and adrenaline sitting on his shoulders, he turned the collar up on his coat and turned in the opposite direction from the Senator. He threw up a silent thought for you - all alone by the seaside in a beautiful, empty house - hundreds of thousands of miles away, but somehow still the closest thing he had to home.

*more chapters coming soon! please let me know if you'd like to be tagged for future chapters

[pedrito-friskito]

cassian andor + smut prompt #10

i am a whore <3

nonnie if you're a whore I'm a whore 🤍

you called - cassian andor x fem!reader

word count: 3.1k (this one got away from me can you tell?)

warnings: unprotected p-in-v, brief oral (f receiving), jealous/possessive!cassian

“Two shots of Corellian whiskey, please,” you ask, stepping up to the bar beside Cassian. The sound of your voice almost makes him jump, but he hides the movement smoothly, adjusting in his seat. From the corner of his eye, he watches you lean back against the bar, propping your elbows on it. You wait for a few other patrons to pass before you drop your voice low. “You’re late.”

“I am not late,” he grumbles, polishing off the rest of his own drink. “I’ve been here waiting for you for hours now.”

You scoff a laugh, shaking your head. “After all this time and you still think you can lie to me, Cassian? You don’t think I had a lock on your ship the moment it entered the atmosphere?”

He balks, tries to hide it and fails. You’re good. Too good. He doesn’t say a word, shakes his head as the bartender returns with two shot glasses, placing them on the bar between you and him.

“That Fondor looks like it’s more mod than original,” you comment, reaching for one of the shots. “Where’d you steal it?”

“I didn’t steal it,” he shoots back, watching your brow raise. “It’s on loan, from a friend.”

“You don’t have friends, Cassian,” you quip, tossing back your shot. You slide the second one over to him. “Just people you owe money to.”

“I don’t owe you any money,” he mutters, unable to stop himself from giving you a cheeky grin. “What does that make us? Friends?”

“You know exactly what we are,” you return, giving him a sideways glance before setting your glass back down. “The mark just walked in. Keep an eye out, will you?”

“I always do,” he replies, and then you’re gone.

This is an old habit for Cassian. He’s known you a long time; you grew up on Ferrix same as him, but you managed to get off-world far before he could bring himself to. By the time he first met up with you on Coruscant, you had already started to make a name for yourself in the Capital’s underworld, and Cassian was in awe. He longed to get the hell off of Ferrix, to go somewhere warm and easy and carefree. He knew Coruscant wasn’t that place, but judging by the amount of credits you were raking in, it was a step in the right direction.

You sent for him often, over the years. He was the only one you trusted to watch your back, to keep a careful eye while you gathered intel, traded information with some of the shadier types in the galaxy. Most jobs went off without a hitch, but there were more than a handful of times where Cassian had started bar brawls to get you the hell out of dodge. He hadn’t had to kill anyone yet, but after everything that’s happened to him, he wouldn’t be surprised.

This is the first time he’s seen you, since everything happened on Ferrix. Maarva, Bix, B2. Luthen and his newborn rebellion. Cassian doesn’t totally know where he stands, what he’s doing, what his next move might be. But when he picked up your signal, Luthen loaned him the ship with little protest, and he was jumping through hyperspace an hour later.

You call, and he comes. It’s how it’s always been.

There had always been something between you, Cassian knew that much. His reputation might not have been the most pristine, but you never seemed to mind, having a bit of a rep yourself. 

But tonight…He could hear the unspoken in your voice, the strain of the events of the last time you met up. The job hadn’t been the issue - it had gone perfectly, in fact - but after, you asked him to walk you back to the apartment you had on the other side of the district.

He’d done as you asked, going so far as to bring you right to your front door. You’d asked him if he wanted to come inside, and before he could get the word yes past his teeth, you’d grabbed him by the front of his collar, and kissed him.

Clothes scattered on the floor, you’d stumbled your way to your bedroom. It was…blissful, in a word. It was everything he felt like he was missing, and that unspoken thing rumbled through you both, but there in your bed, he didn’t think it needed to be spoken aloud. It just…was.

Morning had come too quickly, and when he woke, you were gone. No note, nothing, just his clothes folded and stacked on the table beside the bed. He’d dressed quickly, and got on the next ship to Ferrix.

He wants to ask. He wants to know why you didn’t stay, why you didn’t leave him any sign that you wanted him to stay. But after everything that’s happened, it feels inconsequential, almost.

Cassian drinks down the shot, setting the glass down on the bar with a little too much force. You’re easy to spot, weaving your way through the bar to a man lurking in the dark corner. Brow furrowing, his hand brushes over his coat, where his blaster sits, tucked against his hip. He’s gotten quick on the draw, since he last saw you.

The man spots you as you draw closer, and Cassian bristles at the recognition on his face. He’s glad to see you, and it only becomes more and more evident as the two of you move closer and closer together, heads bowed as you speak, the man’s hand moving to rest on your hip. Then it moves up your back, pressing into the dip of your spine, and Cassian grits his teeth.

Something like jealousy flares in his gut. No, not something like it, but the thing itself.

He wants to touch you like that again, like he had that night. Seeing someone else with their hands on you…his fingers twitch over the blaster again.

No, something else warns him, a clearer voice in his head. That won’t go well, and you know it.

So instead, he watches. He leans back as casually as he can, one elbow leaned on the bar, tapping his other hand against his thigh. The conversation doesn’t last much longer, and before he knows it, you’re returning to his side, a contented grin on your face.You toss your hair over your shoulder as you wave down the bartender again. “Another round.”

“Got everything you needed?”

“And then some,” you reply, looking at him over your shoulder. “Thank you for coming, Cassian.”

He just nods. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

“We’re not friends,” you say, shaking your head as the bartender brings you another two shots. You toss them both back quickly. “I thought we made that clear the last time you were here.”

“The last time?” he repeats, lifting a brow. “You mean when you dragged me to bed and disappeared the next morning? That last time?”

He doesn’t mean for it to come out with such venom, but it does. Jealousy has taken hold of him and refuses to let go. His blood boils with it.

You narrow your eyes at him, your tongue poking between your lips to wet them. He watches the movement and ignores the way it makes his trousers tighten. He’s mad at you, he’s so glad to see you, he’s infuriated at you for leaving him alone last time, he’s so in love with you he might burst into flames.

“You’re jealous,” you determine, and though everything in him screams YES!, he rolls his eyes, turning half away from you. But you don’t let him go far, grabbing his shoulder and spinning his stool back in your direction. “Tell me I’m wrong, Cassian.”

Your hand moves from his shoulder to his thigh, and Cassian’s jaw goes tight. “We are not friends.”

“No,” you agree. “We’re more than that.”

“And your way of telling me that was disappearing the next morning, waiting three months, and then calling me to be your sidekick again?”

Your face falls, and you step back, removing your hand from his leg. “Come with me.”

Without another word, you turn on your heel and stalk out of the bar. Cassian only finds it in him to move when you reach the doorway, and then he’s all but chasing you, walking the almost familiar path to your apartment. You take the stairs, seeming to float up them as Cassian almost struggles to keep up. He loses you for a moment, but when he reaches your door, it’s open, only closing when he steps inside.

He calls your name, hears your quiet in here come from the direction of your bedroom. The place looks the same as he remembers and as he rounds the corner of the hallway, stepping into your room, he finds you perched at the edge of your bed.

“I left in the morning to get us breakfast,” you admit, looking up at Cassian, your eyes shining in the dark. “I’m not here a lot, and there wasn’t any food, so I went to get us something. When I came back, you were gone, and I realized I’d made a mistake.”

He says your name again, softer, and you shake your head.

“And then I started hearing the rumours, about Ferrix, about you. I heard about Aldhani, about Narkina-5, all of it. I even called Brasso, and that was when he told me about Maarva. I’ve been trying to call you ever since then, but nothing was going through. Then I met Vel, and she gave me the right frequency to contact you.”

Cassian sighs, leaning against the doorway. He never even questioned how you’d gotten his contact info after he was off Ferrix…he just…

You called, he came.

“You met Vel,” he says, unsure of what else to say.

You nod. “Hell of a woman.”

Cassian nods. “So you know, then. About the Rebellion.”

“I do. Figured I should put my talents to good use. Better than ripping off ex-senators and making credits I don’t need. And, if it keeps me closer to you, then it’s a win on all sides, as far as I can tell.”

His stomach drops into his toes. “You’re joining?”

You nod again. “Aren’t you?”

“Yes. I tried to resist it, I really did. But now…everything else seems…”

“Meaningless?” you supply. You pull your eyes from his. “For what it’s worth, Cassian, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner. I’m sorry about Maarva, Ferrix, all of it. ”

“You didn’t cause it,” he replies, propping his hands on his hips. “I did that all by myself.”

“Come here,” you say, your voice going soft and your eyes meeting his once more. “Please?”

Slowly, he closes the distance. He watches you reach for him, your hands moving to the belt that holds his blaster, undoing it quickly and letting it slip to the floor. He tries not to groan when your hands move under his loose shirt, fingers curling around his hips. 

Silently, he shakes his coat off, letting it drop to the ground before he hooks two fingers in the back of his shirt, pulling it forward off his torso. It joins the pile on the floor and then he hisses, your teeth sinking into the skin over his hip bone. He lets one hand dive into your hair, holding you against him, feeling your tongue soothe the mark you’ve left behind.

“Promise me something,” he whispers, and you tilt your head back, pulling your mouth from his skin long enough to meet his eyes.

“Anything.”

“Promise you’ll still be here in the morning.”

“I promise.”

You kiss your way across his waist, fingers working the button on his trousers while you distract him with your mouth. He’s got both hands in your hair now, silk between his knuckles, and it almost pulls his focus completely, enough that you have to repeat the next words out of your mouth.

“You never answered me.”

“Huh?”

“Back at the bar, I said you were jealous. You never answered me.”

You pull his zipper down, snap the elastic of his boxers against his skin. Cassian hisses. “I thought it was obvious.”

“It was,” you agree, nipping at his hip again. “I just wanted to hear you say it.”

He tightens his grip on your hair and pulls, just hard enough that your head tilts back and he bends slightly, pulling his body away from yours, but putting his face close enough that he can feel your breath on his cheek.

“You have any idea how much I hated seeing someone else touch you? Someone else put their hands on you?”

You inhale sharply, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, and Cassian prods it with his thumb, pulling it free, rubbing the pad of his thumb across the plush of your lip. “Show me.”

And he does.

He makes quick work of your clothes, shucking his trouses off once you’re naked on the bed. You don’t let him go far, surging up to kiss him when he steps back to undress completely. Your hands are in his hair, same as his are in yours, and Cassian groans when you tug, both of you finding similar pleasure in the movement.

The first night was different. You’d stumbled your way through the dark, finding your peaks quickly. You’d fallen asleep after, and Cassian had watched you for a while before drifting off. That unspoken thing lulled him to sleep.

But now, he turns the bedside light on. The room illuminates with a soft orange glow, and he leans over you, until you fall back against the pillows and blankets, laid out for him, reaching for him. He molds himself into your palms, covers your body with his own. 

The first night, he hadn’t had the chance to taste you. Refusing to miss out a second time, he arranges you on the bed, pushing your knees apart to make room for his shoulders, tracing his mouth along the inside of your thigh, eyes darting between your glistening cunt and your face, the way your eyes roll back in your skull when he buries his head between your legs and sucks your clit between his teeth.

He wants to feel you cum on his face, to feel your thighs tremble around his ears, but you have other ideas. You haul him up with a gasp, fitting your mouth to his and licking your taste out of his mouth. “I wanted to-” he starts, but you cut him off, reaching between your bodies and squeezing your fingers around his cock.

“Plenty of time for that later,” you murmur, lips at his jaw, words spoken into his skin. “Right now I need you inside me, Cass.”

He groans as you stroke him, curling your wrist just right, but then he pulls your hand away, pinning your wrists either side of your head. Using his knees, he spreads your legs wide and drops his hips, the tip of his cock dragging through your wetness.

“Please,” you beg, your own hips lifting, chasing him, trying to notch his cock at your entrance. He teases you a moment longer, waits for the angle to be just right, and then he pushes into you. Your fingers flex against the bedsheets, mouth dropping open with a moan as his hips press into yours. Your legs twitch, one calf wrapping around his thigh. “Cassian, fuck, oh my-”

He covers your mouth with his, swallowing down your words and moans. You tighten around him, impossibly so, and he starts to move, finding his rhythm, filling you to the hilt with each thrust only to pull out almost all the way and do it all over again. Over and over and over, and you’re babbling into his mouth, straining against his hold. He leans up just that much more, pulling his lips from yours, both of you staring down at the spot where you’re joined, where he’s disappearing into you with every move.

“I’m the only one who gets to touch you like this, yes?” he grunts, hearing you gasp as he gives you one particularly hard thrust. He feels your head wobble with a nod, but he wants to hear it. “Say it.”

“Only you, Cass,” you breathe out, throwing your head back as you go even tighter around him. “Oh gods, fuck, only you.”

Pleasure coils like a serpent at the base of his spine, and he drops, trying not to smother you with his weight, pressing his face into the arch of your throat. You moan loudly as he releases your hands, curling his own around your shoulders while yours find purchase in his hair again. The bed shakes with your movement, both legs lifting to wrap around his waist now, your ankles hooked together at the small of his back. “Please, please, please, please, please,” you beg and Cassian bites at your pulse, groaning into your skin as his release threatens to overtake him.

“Cum for me,” he says, and you obey.

Your back arches and you make the sweetest sounds. He wants to bottle them, keep them for himself. He rides out your orgasm, keeping his own pleasure at bay until you’ve caught your breath, sighing at the press of him inside you, pulling him close. “Now you,” you whisper, nipping at his ear, lifting your hips so he gets that much deeper inside you, the warmth enough to swallow him whole. “Let me feel you.”

You call, and he comes.

He growls into your throat, fingers digging deep into your shoulders. You press kisses along his cheek, the space below his ear, his temple. Murmurs of how good it feels, how you missed him, how you’ll never let him go again, it’s the backdrop to the pleasure roaring through his body. It makes every muscle in him tense up before he relaxes completely, sinking into your embrace.

His eyes drop shut as he softens inside you, completely spent. Your fingers comb through his hair, soft kisses still scattered across whatever skin you can reach. After a few minutes, he finds the strength to roll off of you, falling onto the bed at your side.

You kiss his mouth before you get up, disappearing into the fresher for a moment, coming back with a glass of water for you both to share. Cassian gulps down the liquid as you slide back into bed with him, pulling the blankets over you both. You go to turn out the light, but he stops you.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

[l0caltiredgirl]

when i want fluff/angst fics and all i’m getting is smut

the struggle is real

[tending-the-hearth]

i think my favorite type of relationship trope is "stopped believing in love a long time ago" and "genuinely doesn't think they're worthy of love" falling for each other in the MOST romantic way possible

[luffyssa]

i got bored so here's a meme

[is-that-sand-in-my-waffles]

not the Ferrix Anvil Gong being a literal death knell as "4 BBY" reminds us that we are watching the last few years Cassian has left -

[a-door-to-somewhere]

So do you think cassian wakes up on Yavin and hears the rainforest around him. And thinks for a moment he's on Kenari

[djarindroid]

Together

Pairing: Cassian x Reader

Summary: After a mission gone wrong you hide yourself away, blaming yourself. Will Cassian seek you out and finally admit how he truly feels?

Word Count: 1,142

Comments: Thank you to the anon who requested this, I've missed writing for Cassian 💕

As the ship jumped into hyperspace the silence that filled the cockpit was palpable. Cassian could feel the weight of what had happened settling around him and resting heavily on his shoulders. His eyes briefly lingered on the empty seat behind him, your usual spot, and he sighed at your absence.

Literally everything that could have gone wrong on the mission went wrong. You hadn’t said anything but Cassian knew you blamed yourself. The moment you’d got back on the ship you’d hidden yourself away, and Cassian and been trying to figure out if he should approach you ever since. 

He felt selfish, wishing you were still sat here talking about anything and everything. He always joked that you didn’t know when to be quiet, but he’d give anything to have the sound of your voice filling the ship or to have your contagious laughter bouncing around him. 

‘It would make the both of you feel better if you went and talked to her,’ K-2 piped up, breaking the silence. Cassian said nothing in return, still internally debating whether he should seek you out. ‘I’ve noticed you seem to be happier when she is present.’

Cassian turned his head to look at his droid companion upon hearing that. He couldn’t deny the truth in the observation, ever since you’d first worked together he couldn’t help but grow fond of you. His eyes flickered between your seat and K-2. His jaw clenched as he turned his attention back to the ship's control panel. ‘She wants to be alone.’

‘I don’t recall her saying that,’ K-2 responded. He was right, you hadn’t said anything before darting off to the back of the ship. Surely that’s what you needed right now though? To be alone. Otherwise you’d be sat up here talking his ear off as per usual.

Cassian sat, tapping his fingers on the main console, contemplating what to do. His brain was telling him to keep his distance, he was getting too close to you and that wasn’t a good idea. But his heart was calling for you, yearning to have you near, to make sure you’re ok. His heart won, it dragged him from his seat and pulled him towards you.

He made his way through the ship, his soft footsteps echoed around him. Every step closer to you caused his heart to beat a little faster. As he approached the small room where you’d secluded yourself he heard a stifled sob. He could have shattered at the sound and he didn’t hesitate to knock.

‘It's just me,’ he said gently. ‘Can I come in?’

He held his breath during the brief moment of silence, which was followed by your muffled ‘yes’.

Cassian stepped inside to find you sat on a bench with your legs tucked up to your chest. Your eyes were red and puffy as you quickly wiped away tears. Without a word he crossed the small room and sat next to you. He hesitated, he wanted to comfort you but didn’t want to cross any boundaries. 

As he debated what to do or say he noticed you shift slightly, shuffling yourself closer to him. That was the push Cassian needed, he wrapped his hand around your own as he said ‘we did everything we could.’

Your heavy sigh filled the room, ‘but what if I-‘ you started but Cassian quickly cut you off.

‘You can’t do that to yourself, you know there’s nothing else we could have done.’ He turned his body so he was facing you. ‘You don’t have to go through this alone y/n.’ You met his eyes and he noticed another tear roll down your cheek. Without thinking he cupped your face and carefully wiped the stray tear away. 

Your cheek was warm beneath his palm, you closed your eyes and leaned into his touch. You took a shuddering breath before saying ‘I was so scared,’ your eyes opened to meet his again. ‘I thought-‘ he watched as your eyes flickered between his own, as if you were trying to find the words. ‘I thought I was going to lose you today,’ you quietly admitted.

Your words took Cassian by surprise, is that why you’d been so upset? His heart ached at the thought of your carrying this fear. He softly titled your chin up, making sure you kept your gaze locked with his own. ‘I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.’ He kept his voice soft but firm.

Another tear slipped down your cheek and he brushed it away again. ‘We’re in this together,’ he reassured. ‘I’ll always be by your side.’ You took a shaky breath and leaned towards him, as if you were seeking his comfort. He leaned to you as well and rested his forehead against your own. 

‘I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to you,’ you confessed. Cassian’s heart was beating so loudly he was sure you’d be able to hear it.  ‘Cassian I-‘ you pulled back slightly to look into his eyes. ‘I care about you, I care about you so much it scares me. I care about you more than I’ve cared about anyone.’ Your words came out rushed, as if a dam had broken and you were finally free to speak the truth. 

Cassian felt his breath catch in his throat at your confession, relief and surprise washed over him. He’d spent so long concealing his own feelings, trying to lessen them out of fear they would complicate things, but hearing you say the words he’d been too afraid to say himself made him feel as though he was floating on air.

He took a deep breath before saying ‘I’ve tried to convince myself it was better to keep my feelings to myself but I care about you too, more than I thought was possible.’ His hand was still cradling your cheek and you looked up at him with wide eyes. ‘I’m scared of losing you as well, but I don’t want to give into that fear anymore. I want you by my side, always.’

He watched as your shoulders sagged, the tension in your body leaving as his words sank in. Your expression softened and a smile appeared on your face, the first he had seen since the failed mission. At the sight Cassian felt a surge of protectiveness, knowing he would do anything to be there whenever you needed him.

You leant in and Cassian closed the distance, pressing his lips to yours in a tender kiss. Any lingering fear or doubt ebbed away and was replaced with the connection you now shared. When he finally pulled back he felt a newfound sense of strength and hope. 

‘Whatever comes our way we’ll face it together,’ he promised.

You nodded and as another smile graced your face you softly repeated ‘together.’

[laneboyheathens]

The Purpose of Tatooine Rules - ao3 3.7k M

Relationship: Cassian Andor/Ruescott Melshi

“Does this not put you at a disadvantage?” Kay is asking, adjusting the lay of the jacket across his back. “Only if I lose,” Melshi chuckles, sinking back into his seat, discreetly sending a wink in Cassian’s direction. Oh, Cassian is so fucked.

A game of strip Rianza is played. Cassian makes some observations and discoveries.

[thewulf]

Frosted Steel || Cassian

Summary: Request -Can i request a Cassian x Reader?? Here's what I'm thinking-Reader is from winter court. She's gifted with unique ice-binding magic from her home and arrives in Velaris to help Rhysand finalize a critical peace treaty?... Read Rest Here

A/N: Well... this one got away from me hahaha but I had a blast writing it. Def in the zone writing these ACOTAR fics so please keep sending them my way!

Pairing: Cassian x Female Reader (Winter Court Reader)

Word Count: 9.8k + (WHOOPS)

TW: swords, reader gets cut, blood, general ACOTAR warnings

In the silent, shimmering halls of the Winter Court you stood before Kallias, your father and the formidable High Lord. His piercing blue eyes reflect both concern and determination as he addresses you. The throne room was usually a place of austere beauty but felt colder today. The frost patterns on the walls mirroring the tension in the air.

"Velaris is not just another city, and this is not merely a diplomatic visit my daughter," Kallias begins. His voice resonant and commanding. "Rhysand needs our support to finalize a peace treaty that could stabilize relations of the Winter Court for generations. I need someone who can represent our interests with both power and delicacy. Someone like you."

You shift slightly with your boots whispering against the icy floor. "But father, my magic is suited for creation not conflict. Surely there are others better suited to navigate the intricacies of a peace treaty?" You tried your best to convince him, but it was sure to fall of deaf ears. When he had a plan there was no talking him out of it.

Kallias rises. His height and presence filling the room with an almost tangible force. "No one else possesses your unique abilities or your perspective," he insists. "You understand the fragile nature of peace. This treaty needs more than just political acumen… it needs the trust and bond that only your magic can foster." You knew exactly what he was doing. He was trying to flatter you. You lowered your gaze knowing there was no talking him out of this. You felt the weight of his expectations pressing into you. It is an honor yes, but a daunting one, nonetheless. The responsibility feels as heavy as the ice that clings to the peaks of your homeland.

Seeing your hesitation Kallias softens before stepping down from the dais to place a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "I would not ask this of you if I did not believe in your ability to carry our hopes," he says. His tone infused with a rare warmth. "You have always risen to the challenges presented to you, greater though they may seem."

Drawing a deep breath you nod, accepting the mantle he's offering. "I will go to Velaris. I will help broker this peace." You spoke even though you truly did not want to go.

Kallias smiles with pride evident in his eyes. "Rhysand has arranged for an escort to meet you at the city gates. They will ensure your safety and aid in your acclimation to the Night Court's ways. Spend some time there. Get to know them. It will only aid in our recovery efforts after the war.” As you turn to leave your heart steadies itself. The path ahead is uncertain and is filled with potential alliances and hidden perils. But as the frost air fills your lungs you feel your resolve harden. You will meet this challenge as you have met all others with the cool grace and quiet strength of winter itself.

He didn’t give you long to get ready to leave. Within a day you were already finding yourself at the outskirts of Velaris, the once hidden city of the Night Court. As you step through the threshold into the city your senses are immediately overwhelmed by the vivid contrasts. Unlike the icy, silent elegance of your homeland, Velaris pulses with life. Its streets bustling with faeries of every conceivable form and hue. The air here carries the warmth of starlight even into the night. It was a stark contrast to the crisp, cold air of the Winter Court. Your unique ice-binding magic was a rare gift in your cold dominion, and it stirred within you responding to the latent energies of this foreign land.

Your arrival isn't just a mere visit as your father had informed you. It's a mission charged with the weight of potential peace or conflict. Directed by your father you are here to assist Rhysand, the famed High Lord of the Night Court and one you were incredibly intimidated by, in finalizing the critical peace treaty. The responsibility weighs heavily on your shoulders as the outcome could define the future relationships between your frigid realm and the temperate lands of the Night Court.

As you glide through the throngs of fae your eyes marvel at the architectural wonders of Velaris. The buildings around you display intricate designs that emit an ethereal glow, seeming both ancient and vibrantly alive. Despite the surrounding beauty you remain vigilant, your magic at the ready. Your heart beats a complex rhythm of excitement and caution as you near the meeting point. In Velaris, amidst allies and strangers, you must navigate the intricacies of court politics. Utilizing your magical talents for diplomacy and perhaps learn to defend yourself in more ways than one.

However, a different sensation stirs within you—a blend of nervousness and unease—as you anticipate your first encounter with Rhysand and Feyre. Both are Daemati, a kind of power that deeply unsettles you. This fear stems from a harrowing past encounter with a Daemati under Amarantha's command who had mercilessly killed twelve children of the Winter Court. One of these children was your Ivy. She was a young fae you were mentoring. Ivy, like yourself, possessed potent abilities but her promise was brutally cut short. She was a loss that still haunts you to this day.

Now as you approach the House of Wind with your escort a mix of fear and determination tingles through your nerves. You replay the pain of your past and the loss that continuously gnaws at your spirit. Yet, you steady yourself with the knowledge that your father has prepared you well to shield your thoughts. He had trained you relentlessly once he returned from under the mountain. At the time it frustrated you but now, in this moment, you are profoundly grateful for his persistence.

Rhysand and Feyre greet you at the grand entrance. Their presence was both awe-inspiring and intimidating. Rhysand's dark hair and piercing gaze are balanced by a surprisingly warm smile. While Feyre's poise and grace exude a calm strength. Though their reputations are fair and just leaders precede them you can't shake the lingering trepidation of their unique abilities.

"Welcome to Velaris," Rhysand says. His voice both smooth and inviting. "We are honored to assist the Winter Court in these crucial talks."

You manage a polite nod making sure to keep your mental shields tightly woven, an invisible armor against any potential intrusion. Rhysand’s eyes seem to glimmer with a hint of understanding, but he makes no move to address the unspoken tension.

Feyre then steps forward with a gentle smile. Her empathy palpable even without words. "We hope you find comfort here during your stay. If there's anything you need at all, please let us know."

As they lead you through the corridors of their home filled with the light of glowing crystals and the scent of night-blooming flowers you remind yourself of the mission at hand. You are here to negotiate peace. To secure a future for your court. Despite the warmth of their welcome, you remain vigilant, prepared to protect your thoughts and heart from the painful memories of the past and the daunting power of the present.

After showing you to your room, a beautiful space with a view of Velaris that twinkles like a starlit sky, Feyre gently suggests that you join them for dinner. As you follow her down to the dining area your nervousness manifests subtly. Your leg shakes rhythmically, a silent tick showing the unease churning inside you. The room is beautifully set with candles flickering softly. They cast a warm light over the array of dishes that smell of spices and something sweetly floral.

You take your seat making sure to deliberately avoid the gazes of Rhysand and Feyre who try to make the atmosphere as welcoming as possible. Your leg continues to shake under the table and despite their friendly demeanor you find yourself unable to meet their eyes. You choose instead to focus on the intricate patterns of the tablecloth. You felt terribly out of your element. Why had your father sent you here? You couldn’t even look them in the eyes, how were you going to negotiate peace with them?

Noticing your discomfort Rhysand addresses the elephant in the room with a gentle directness. "It must be quite unsettling being far from home and surrounded by strangers. Especially strangers who possess abilities that might seem... invasive. We both understand the significance of mental privacy and consent," he begins. His tone imbued with empathy. His acknowledgment of his and Feyre's Daemati powers catches your attention prompting you to glance up briefly.

"We're committed to using our powers to protect and heal, never to harm or coerce," Rhysand continues hoping to ease your worry. "It's a rule we hold sacred in Velaris. A promise to each other and to those we welcome into our home."

As Rhysand speaks there is a sincerity radiating with each word. You find the courage to lift your eyes and meet his gaze for the first time this evening. Something in his expression, a deep-seated earnestness, cuts through the fog of your apprehension. You nod slowly acknowledging his pledge and the safety it promises.

"Thank you," you speak quietly. "I've heard much about both of you and your abilities. Forgive me for being so… cold." The smirk that follows is light and tinged with the irony of your homeland's icy reputation.

Your gaze shifts between Rhysand and Feyre. Their attentive postures encouraging you to continue. "The reason for my caution," you explain, "stems from a… an awful experience. One of the children taken by Amarantha's enforcer was under my protection. Her name was Ivy. I was supposed to shield her. Protect her. To nurture her abilities. But I could only watch helpless as her mind was torn apart. Piece by piece. It was... traumatizing to say the least. The fear of that power. The fear of it being used again so mercilessly has stayed with me." You let out the breath you were holding feeling a weight being slowly lifted off your shoulders in your admission.

Taking a deep breath, you fight through the tide of emotion threatening to overwhelm you. "Ivy was more than just a pupil to me. She was like a daughter," you begin. Your voice trembling as the words spill out. “Young and brilliant. Her very presence could brighten the darkest winter nights. She had a rare gift for ice magic. The kind that comes once in a generation. Ivy could weave frost into intricate sculptures of breathtaking beauty. She could coax snowflakes into patterns that told stories. Her magic wasn’t just powerful, it was art. Art in the purest and most captivating form."

Your voice cracks as the memory surges forward, raw, and as sharp as the day it happened. "When the enforcer came, I tried to shield her. I stood between them. I begged him to take me instead. But he just laughed..." Your hands clench into fists at the memory with you nails digging into your palms as if to anchor you against the pain. "And then he turned his attention to her. Ivy was just a girl. A beautiful little girl brimming with potential, and I had to watch from a distance… utterly powerless, as he ripped it all away. Her screams... the look of sheer terror in her eyes... it's etched into my memory. A nightmare that never fades."

Pausing, you swallow hard, feeling the sting of tears as they threaten to breach your composure. "I couldn't save her. The guilt of that moment, the utter helplessness. It’s haunted me ever since." You wipe away a tear that manages to escape, your voice a whisper now. "That’s why I’m so wary around Daemati. That’s why your powers… even though I know you use them for good, initially stirred such deep fear in me. The memory of what was done with similar abilities. It terrifies me still."

As you finish the room is enveloped in a heavy silence. Rhysand and Feyre absorbing the depth of your pain. Each of their faces etched with compassion and sorrow for your loss. Feyre's reaction is immediate and visceral. Her eyes fill with tears, and they silently overflow as she listens to the end of your harrowing experience. Moved deeply by your pain and the horrific loss of Ivy, she can barely contain her distress, reflecting her profound empathy.

"I'm so sorry," Feyre whispers. Her voice quivering as she reaches across the table, seeking to provide comfort even as she struggles with her own reaction. "That you had to go through that, to witness such horror... it's just unthinkable. I can't express how deeply sorry I am for your loss and your pain."

Rhysand's expression is one of solemn resolve as he observes both you and Feyre. He places a reassuring hand on her shoulder offering her a silent strength before turning his attention to you with a serious yet compassionate gaze. "What happened to Ivy, the terror she endured—such things are what we fight against every day," he says firmly. "Under my watch we hold ourselves to a promise: that we use our power to protect, to heal, not to harm. What you experienced will not happen here. You have my word." He nods his head in reverence.

The sincerity in Rhysand's voice and his protective assurance coupled with Feyre's empathetic tears create a poignant moment of understanding and solidarity. It offers a small yet significant reassurance that in Velaris you might find not only safety but also allies who genuinely care about your well-being.

As dinner progresses the conversation gradually shifts towards lighter topics. Focusing on the details of the peace treaty. The atmosphere has eased significantly with Rhysand and Feyre both engaging in thoughtful dialogue about the future plans and the roles each court might play in fostering peace. You find yourself becoming more invested in the conversation feeling a bit more at ease with each passing moment.

Just as you're beginning to relax fully the door bursts open and two figures storm in, deep in a heated debate. Their voices are raised, each trying to overpower the other with their arguments.

“You think charging in without a plan is the answer, Cassian? That’s reckless, even for you,” the darker-haired one asserts, his expression intense and clearly frustrated.

“And you think waiting around is going to solve our problems, Az? We can’t just leave it unresolved!” the larger man retorts with his broad frame gesturing emphatically.

Rhysand sighs, setting down his utensils before looking between his two friends. “Alright, what’s this about?” he asks, ready to mediate with a practiced ease.

As Cassian and Azriel's loud entrance interrupted the dinner your eyes immediately locked with Cassian's. Despite the intensity of their ongoing argument something about his direct gaze halted all other thoughts. It was as if a gust of wind had swept through the room, leaving you momentarily breathless. Amidst the unexpected disruption the corner of your mouth quirked up in amusement. Such candid, boisterous dynamics were a rare sight back in the Winter Court and the sheer openness of it all struck you as refreshingly odd. Even as the argument continued your focus remained riveted on Cassian. You found it impossible to break away from his gaze, his eyes holding a mixture of passion and warmth that was intensely captivating.

Catching your amused smile, Cassian halts mid-sentence. A playful glint appearing in his eyes. “And who do we have here?” he asks. His tone shifting to one of curiosity mixed with a hint of charm. “A spy from the Winter Court come to watch us squabble like market hagglers?”

Azriel rolls his eyes at Cassian’s dramatics. “Ignore him. Cassian thinks every new face is part of a grand intrigue.”

Rhysand chuckles and intervenes before Cassian can respond. “No spies here, just Kallias’s daughter from the Winter Court. She’s here to assist with the peace treaty negotiations. Remember?” Rhysand explains gesturing toward you with a warm smile. “And apparently to witness the Night Court's General and Spymaster in their, let’s say, natural habitat.”

Cassian’s face lights up with a broad grin as he extends a hand in greeting. His earlier fervor now redirected into welcoming you. “Well then, welcome to Velaris! I’m Cassian, the General. And the brooding shadow over there is Azriel, our Spymaster. Seems you’ve got a front-row seat to our tactical disputes.”

Azriel gives you a nod, his earlier annoyance fading into a reserved smile. "It’s good to meet you. Please don’t mind us. We argue, but it’s all in the spirit of making the best decisions for our people."

Your initial amusement grows into a genuine smile, touched by the warmth and candidness of their welcome, even amidst their lively disputes. This evening has certainly turned out to be full of surprises. Painting a vivid picture of the Night Court as a place of vibrant personalities and fierce loyalty.

As the energy from their spirited discussions simmers down and the laughter echoes into a comfortable lull you take the opportunity to express your amusement at their robust debate. Greeting Cassian and Azriel warmly you share how refreshing you find the candid nature of the Night Court. It's a stark contrast to the more reserved and formal interactions typical of the Winter Court, sparking your curiosity about the dynamics of this lively group.

"Well, it's certainly different here," you comment with a light laugh. "I'm looking forward to seeing more of this... enthusiasm during my stay. I'll be here for a month or so. I hope to learn as much as I can."

Rhysand, seizing on your mention of an extended stay, exchanges a quick glance with Cassian. He gave him a sly smile as he senses his brothers attention shifting toward you almost immediately. "A month or so gives us plenty of time," he says thoughtfully. "If you're interested in learning more than just politics perhaps you'd like to join some of our training sessions? Cassian here leads our warriors and I'm sure he could arrange something that accommodates your skills and interests."

Cassian’s eyes light up at the suggestion. He was always eager to bring someone new into the fold of his training regimens. Especially someone as unique as you seemed to be. "Absolutely," he agrees with an enthusiastic nod. "It’s not all sword swinging and strength training. We focus on strategy, agility, and even some elemental control that might align nicely with your ice magic. It could be a good way to blend some of the Winter Court techniques with ours."

As Rhysand suggests joining the training sessions you hesitate, a flicker of doubt crossing your face. "I appreciate the offer but I'm not really a fighter," you admit slightly apologetic in your nature. "My strengths lie more in diplomacy and magic, particularly ice magic. I'm not sure how well I'd fit into a warrior's training regimen."

Rhysand, observing the interplay at the table, seems particularly keen on your participation. His insight as a leader might allow him to sense the undercurrent of interest from Cassian toward you. Something potentially deeper than it appears. He pushes gently but with a knowing smile, "It’s not just about fighting. It’s about understanding different perspectives and disciplines. It could be a valuable experience."

Cassian although typically straightforward and jovially aggressive, adopts a slightly softer demeanor. His usual bravado tempered by earnestness. "Training can also be about balance and harmony. About integrating the physical with the magical. Your skills could bring a fresh perspective, not just to our tactics but to our understanding of magic and combat."

Then Azriel, who normally stays quiet in such discussions adds his own encouragement. His subdued voice carrying weight. "It’s worth exploring. Sometimes stepping into unfamiliar territory reveals more about our strengths. It could be enlightening for all of us."

Cassian's expression briefly reveals his surprise at Azriel’s interjection. It was a small, almost imperceptible lift of his eyebrows signaling to you that Azriel's encouragement is out of the ordinary. This small gesture subtly hints at the importance of the moment.

Feyre as if sensing the nuanced shifts in the conversation supports their suggestions with a warm and inclusive gesture. "It’s also a way to connect with everyone here. Our training sessions are as much about building relationships as they are about building skills. It would be wonderful to have you join, even just a few times to see how it feels."

Encouraged by their collective support and Cassian's surprised yet approving glance following Azriel's seemingly rare endorsement you find yourself reconsidering their proposal more seriously. "Alright. I'll give it a try," you agree, a tentative excitement building within you. "This will be very… interesting."

"Excellent," Cassian says. His eyes brightening with enthusiasm. "We’ll start at a pace that feels right for you. It’s about growth and learning, not just exertion."

As the dinner concludes and plans for your training begin to take shape you can't help but feel an intriguing pull towards what lies ahead. The possibility of new friendships and perhaps deeper bonds begins to form, hinting at the start of an enriching journey within the Night Court.

On your first day at the training grounds, the crisp morning air of Velaris is invigorating, filled with the sounds of clashing weapons and distant calls from sparring partners. Cassian leads you to a quieter section reserved for one-on-one sessions away from the more vigorous activities of his usual warriors. The atmosphere is slightly tense. The space between you filled with cautious curiosity. Each of you is clearly gauging the other trying to find a comfortable rhythm in this new training partnership.

"Let’s see what you’ve got," Cassian suggests. His tone friendly but carrying a hint of challenge. He watches intently as you demonstrate some basic maneuvers with your ice magic. You created delicate yet sharp frost patterns that float gracefully in the air. His nods of approval are sparing, and you can tell he’s mentally noting each display of skill though he keeps his feedback measured and professional.

As the days progress the initial stiffness that marked your interactions begins to melt away. Cassian’s coaching style is intense. His commands are sharp, his expectations high. However, as you meet his challenges with increasing confidence you begin to understand the method behind his rigor. You also start to catch glimpses of humor in his sharp eyes. A sign that there’s more to this formidable warrior than just discipline and strength.

"Try not to freeze my soldiers. We’re running out of good men as it is," he jokes one morning after you skillfully direct a swirl of ice around a training dummy skillfully stopping just short of a group of soldiers watching nearby.

With a small laugh you shoot back, "I thought the Night Court could handle a little cold."

His laughter in response is hearty. A sound that seems to echo around the quiet corner of the training grounds. It's a turning point, signaling a shift from mutual respect to something warmer, more friendly.

By the end of the week your training sessions are characterized by easy banter and playful challenges. One afternoon Cassian dodges your icy projectiles with nimble grace only to slip slightly on a patch of ice you cunningly left in his path. "Not bad for a scrawny little thing," he grins while steadying himself with the agility of a cat.

In response you flash a mischievous smile and with a subtle flick of your wrist, you freeze his boots to the ground. "And not bad for a brawny brute," you retort. Laughter bursts from a few nearby trainees who have started to look forward to these exchanges between the two of you.

Cassian manages to break free before brushing ice from his boots with mock indignation. "You’re going to pay for that one," he warns though his eyes sparkle with amusement.

As the week draws to a close the training ground has transformed from a place of cautious appraisal to one of growth and friendship. Your sessions with Cassian are no longer just about learning to integrate your ice magic with physical combat. They’re also about the laughter shared over slipped footing, the shared grins after successful maneuvers, and the light-hearted jests that now flow freely between you. This evolving camaraderie promises not just improved skills but a deepening bond, hinting at the development of a relationship built on respect, challenge, and mutual delight in each other's company.

The atmosphere at the training grounds is usually charged with the sounds of diligent practice but today there’s an added layer of excitement due to some young onlookers from the Night Court. Cassian plans a session that balances demonstrations of your unique ice magic with some basic combat techniques hoping to impress not just you but the eager young fae watching from a distance.

Wearing your elegant Winter Court attire, which was more suited for display than combat, you find yourself not in your usual training leathers. Today was supposed to be about finesse and control not full-contact sparring. As Cassian readies the next exercise you catch the eyes of the children peeking out from behind the trees. Their expressions were filled with awe and curiosity. Smiling back at them your attention momentarily drifts from the task at hand.

Cassian notices your distraction and the intricate fabric of your attire raising an eyebrow in mild concern. "Are you sure you wouldn't prefer to change into something more... practical?" he asks you once more. His voice laced with skepticism.

You shake your head while stepping forward confidently. "I believe today's session can benefit from a different approach," you explain. Your voice steady, confident. "My attire from the Winter Court is designed not only for aesthetics but for mobility in a certain style of combat. It’s more strategic and less about direct confrontation. It might offer a new perspective for your warriors."

Cassian looks dubious but intrigued by your assurance and the potential learning opportunity for his trainees. After a moment of consideration, he nods slowly. "Alright," he concedes. His tone cautious yet curious. "We'll adjust today's training to focus on technique and precision. We'll go light on the physical combat to accommodate your attire."

Grateful for his flexibility you prepare to demonstrate that finesse and strategy can be as effective as brute strength hoping to prove the value of your unique approach and the versatility of your court's combat style.

As dusk deepened over the training grounds, the session with Cassian was intensifying. He was fully focused on you, guiding, and challenging you with each swing of his blunted training blade. He did not notice Azriel's silent approach until his brother was almost beside them, landing softly. The sudden appearance of Azriel, so smooth and silent, caught your eye at the crucial moment.

Cassian, thinking you were prepared and about to dodge, continued with his planned attack and swung the blunted blade in a broad, sweeping motion towards you. Normally you would have sidestepped smoothly but distracted by Azriel's unexpected arrival you froze. The blade, though blunt for training, struck directly against your side with surprising force due to your lack of movement. The impact was hard enough to slice through the delicate fabric of your Winter Court dress and nick your skin, drawing a line of blood.

Immediately realizing the mishap Cassian dropped his sword and rushed to your side, his expression flooded with concern. "Are you alright? I thought you saw me coming," he asked quickly as his voice was laced with worry.

Trying to mask the sharp sting and the sudden warmth of blood seeping through your dress, you attempted to reassure him, "I’m okay, Cassian, really, it was just a shock more than anything—"

But as you spoke a wave of dizziness overwhelmed you, your knees buckling under the dual assault of pain and sudden faintness. As you started to fall Cassian instinctively reached out, catching you just in time. His hands which were initially meant to steady you felt the wetness of blood through the fabric of your dress. His eyes widened in horror as he saw the bright red on his hands realizing the cut was more serious than a mere scrape.

Without a moment's hesitation Cassian scooped you up into his arms. His movements were swift and filled with urgent care. He looked up at Azriel who had stepped forward, concern etching his features. "Keep the training going, Az. I’m taking her to Madja, now," Cassian instructed firmly. His voice carrying the weight of his resolve.

Azriel nodded understanding the gravity of the situation and stepped back to allow Cassian to pass. Cassian, holding you securely, moved with purposeful speed towards the infirmary. His mind was racing with worry. The flight was quick. His powerful wings beating against the cool air of the evening, each stroke propelling you further away from the training grounds and closer to the healing hands of Madja.

As he flew you clung to him feeling the cool air against your face, which helped alleviate some of the dizziness. "I'm really okay, Cassian," you tried to assure him again, your voice soft, noticing the tension in his body, the way his jaw was set with worry. "It’s just a little cut, I think. I’m sure it’s already healed up."

Cassian only tightened his hold, a gesture of protective care. "We're not taking any chances," he said firmly. His tone brooking no argument. "You’re getting checked out, no arguments."

Suspended in the air, held securely in Cassian's embrace, you noticed the tension in his expression. His jaw set firmly as he navigated through the skies. Wanting to alleviate his concern and lighten the mood you looked up at him, your voice competing with the rush of the wind. "Okay, no arguing," you conceded with a soft, reassuring smile. "But how about an even less swordy day at training tomorrow?"

"You know, maybe we should consider taking a rest day tomorrow," Cassian suggested hesitantly. His voice carrying a protective tone. "Just to be sure you're fully recovered. It might not be wise to jump right back into training."

You looked up at him feeling the warmth of his care but also a spark of your own determination not to be sidelined by a small injury. "I appreciate your concern, Cassian, but really, I feel fine," you countered quickly. A hint of stubbornness in your tone. "A light day as planned with some tactical drills. Nothing too strenuous. I think it would be good for me. For you"

Cassian raised an eyebrow with a small smile breaking through as he sensed your resolve. "Oh, how quickly you've changed your tune, princess," he remarked with a playful smirk. The affectionate tease in his voice floated on the wind as he continued to fly, his grip around you reassuring and strong.

The brief exchange brought a light-heartedness to the moment and Cassian's smile broadened slightly appreciating your spirit and resilience. "Alright, tactical drills it is then. But at the first sign of any discomfort, we're taking a break," he conceded. His tone still carrying a hint of caution but softened by his growing trust in your judgment.

As you both neared the infirmary the flight through the crisp evening air felt less like a rush to aid and more like a shared journey back to stability. Cassian's initial hesitation faded, replaced by a quiet confidence in your resilience and a deepening sense of connection between you. The city of Velaris spread out beneath you, a silent witness to the bond that was strengthening with every beat of Cassian's wings and every word exchanged above the rooftops.

Landing smoothly at the infirmary Cassian carried you inside where Madja was already preparing her tools. Cassian gently laid you down on a cot as his hands lingered for a moment longer than necessary. His eyes were searching yours for any sign of further distress.

Madja quickly assessed the situation. She cleaned the wound and confirmed it was shallow. Though the blood loss and the shock had caused your faintness. "You'll be fine. Just a little rest and you’ll be up in no time," she reassured both you and Cassian, more so Cassian, who finally allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief.

You turn to Cass with a smirk playing on your lips. "See, told you so, General," you tease in an attempt to ease the palpable tension that had followed you from the training grounds.

Cassian's relief is immediate and visible. He lets out a deep breath, the tightness in his shoulders relaxing as he returns your smirk with a wry smile. "Fine, you were right. But let’s avoid making this a habit, shall we?"

Before you can respond the infirmary door swings open abruptly. Rhysand strides in, his expression a mixture of concern and command clearly having been summoned by Cassian’s urgent mental call. His eyes are wide as he quickly scans the room landing on you sitting relatively unscathed on the infirmary bed.

"Are you alright?" Rhysand asks. His voice tight with concern. He moves closer. His gaze flicking from you to Cassian, seeking an explanation.

You nod reassuring him with a calm smile. "I’m just fine, Rhys. Really, it was much less dramatic than it seems. Cassian has been worried enough for everyone," you say, glancing at Cassian with a playful raise of your eyebrows, signaling that all is truly well.

Rhysand's gaze softens though the lines of worry don’t completely disappear. "Cassian briefed me but seeing you well makes a world of difference. These training accidents... Well, they shouldn’t happen. We’ll review the protocols to ensure this is an isolated incident."

Turning to Cassian, Rhysand claps him on the shoulder. A gesture of support mixed with a mild reprimand. "Take care of her. Make sure she follows all of Madja’s instructions," Rhysand instructs, his leader’s tone resurfacing.

Cassian nods solemnly, "Understood. I’ll make sure this doesn’t happen again."

With a final nod and a comforting smile directed at you Rhys exits the infirmary, his presence leaving as quickly as it arrived. The room feels lighter now, the earlier tension dissipating with the confirmations of your well-being.

Cassian stays by your side. His relief evident but his watchfulness remaining. "Now, about that 'less swordy' day tomorrow..." he begins, ready to shift back into the lighter, teasing dynamic that has marked your growing friendship. Grateful that the day’s scare has ended on a reassuring note.

As Cassian suggests a less physically demanding day focused more on magic you can’t help but giggle. A slight relief moving away from any activities involving bladed weapons. “That sounds perfect,” you agree with enthusiasm brightening your voice as you discuss potential exercises that would let you showcase and refine your control over ice magic without the physical strain.

As the conversation continues Cassian helps you up ensuring you’re stable on your feet and offers his arm for support as you begin the walk back to your quarters. The corridors of the Night Court feel quieter than usual. The soft echo of your steps mingling with the fading adrenaline of the day’s events. There’s a palpable shift between you and Cassian. A new layer of closeness brought on not just by the day’s scare but also by the accumulated time spent together over the past few weeks.

Cassian’s voice breaks the comfortable silence. His voice softer, more reflective than before. “I’ve really enjoyed these last few weeks with you,” he admits. His gaze fixed ahead. “You’ve taught me more than you’ll ever know.” His words hang in the air laden with a sincerity that draws your attention fully to his expression. It’s open, honest, and there’s a hint of vulnerability there that you hadn’t noticed before.

You look at him, touched by his confession, noticing the slight hesitance as if he wants to say more but is holding back. Maybe it’s the fear of crossing an unseen boundary or the uncertainty of your reaction that keeps him from continuing.

Encouraged by his openness you respond warmly, “And I’ve learned a lot from you, too, Cassian. Not just about fighting or training but about what it means to really care about your warriors, your friends.” You pause searching his face for a reaction. “It means a lot to me, all of this time we’ve spent together.”

Cassian’s eyes meet yours and there’s a moment of silent communication. A mutual understanding and appreciation that seems to deepen the bond between you. “I’m glad,” he finally says with his voice low. “I hope we can keep this going, no matter what the training schedule says.”

As you reach your quarters there’s a reluctance to part between the both of you. A desire to prolong the connection that has clearly grown beyond the confines of instructor and trainee. Cassian lingers at your door, his usual confidence tempered with a newfound tenderness.

“Get some rest princess,” he says softly before stepping back with a reluctant smile. “We’ll start fresh tomorrow. Less swordy, more... magical.”

You nod, smiling back at him, feeling a warmth that extends beyond the fading pain from your injury. “I look forward to it, Cassian. Thank you for everything today.”

He nods, then turns to leave, but not before throwing a look over his shoulder. It was a promise of more shared moments, more lessons, and perhaps, deeper revelations yet to come. The door closes softly behind you leaving you with a sense of anticipation for what the next day might bring, both in training and in your evolving relationship with Cassian.

After the incident at the training grounds and a night of rest you dive back into the treaty negotiations with renewed focus. As the talks commence you are at the forefront, your diplomatic skills shining as you navigate the complexities of the discussions. Your adept use of magic not only impresses but also serves as a poignant reminder of the Winter Court's strengths and capabilities. The treaty talks progress smoothly and a successful agreement begins to take shape much to the relief and satisfaction of all parties involved.

However, despite the importance of the negotiations and your central role in them your thoughts intermittently drift to Cassian. The memory of his concerned eyes, his protective stance, and the warmth of your conversation lingers with you, distracting you more than you'd like to admit. As you mentally rehearse your next points in the discussion, you find your mind replaying moments from the training sessions, his laughter, his teasing remarks, and his unexpectedly gentle care.

Unbeknownst to you, your mental shields—usually so meticulously maintained—begin to slip slightly amid your daydreams. Rhysand, who was not actively probing but is always somewhat attuned to the emotional and mental state of those around him, picks up on your wandering thoughts. He catches snippets of your internal musings about Cassian, not enough to grasp the full context but enough to piece together the gist of your distraction.

Throughout the meeting a knowing grin slowly forms on Rhysand's face, amused by the realization of your burgeoning feelings for his brother. He doesn't comment on it during the talks. Making sure to maintain his professionalism and focusing on the successful closure of the treaty. However, the little smile that occasionally plays at the corners of his mouth doesn't go unnoticed by those who know him well.

Later, as the meeting concludes with handshakes and a collective sigh of relief over the treaty's ratification. Rhysand pulls Cassian aside just before your evening training session. In a quiet corner away from prying ears Rhysand's grin broadens.

"I think someone has managed to catch more than just your training expertise," Rhysand teases as his eyes twinkled with mirth. "Our Winter Court princess seems to be a bit distracted by a certain general." As Rhysand delivers his playful revelation, Cassian's initial surprise quickly shifts to a broad, almost uncontrollable grin that spreads across his face. The sudden display of joy is uncharacteristic of the usually composed general, revealing just how deeply the news has affected him.

"Oh? And what makes you say that?" Cassian tries to maintain a semblance of composure, but his voice betrayed a hint of excitement beneath the casual façade.

Rhysand notices the change in Cassian's demeanor. The light in his eyes that hadn't been there moments before. "Well, let's just say that her thoughts were a little less guarded than usual," Rhysand replied. His voice laced with amusement. "She might be more interested in the person teaching her than just the lessons themselves."

Cassian's smile widens and he shakes his head slightly almost in disbelief but clearly delighted by the prospect. "Is that so?" he murmurs more to himself than to Rhysand, his mind already spinning with the implications.

Rhysand watches Cassian's bright grin, a knowing look crossing his face as he teases, "Seems like those training sessions are about more than just tactics and spells."

Cassian’s expression remains upbeat but a hint of seriousness creeps in. "They’re enlightening," he admits while giving a nod. "There’s something unique about her… beyond just her skills."

Sensing the depth in Cassian’s tone, Rhysand's demeanor shifts slightly, becoming more contemplative. "Just be careful, Cass. It’s easy to let your guard down when strong feelings are involved."

Cassian pauses as he felt a weight in Rhysand's caution. He looks at his brother, a silent plea for understanding without words. Rhysand, ever perceptive, senses the depth of Cassian’s feelings, realizing this might be more than just a fleeting fascination. "Cassian, do you think she could be…" Rhysand trails off leaving the implication hanging in the air, heavy with the weight of possibilities. His question is subtle, probing—asking if Cassian feels the deep, fated connection of a mate.

Cassian meets Rhysand's gaze with his own eyes reflecting a mix of hope and uncertainty. "I don’t know," he confesses softly. "But there’s something there. Something that feels… right. More than I've felt before."

Rhysand nods slowly as he processed this new revelation. His initial caution softens into a more supportive stance. "Then take it seriously but carefully. If this is what I think it might be, it’s not just significant for you but could be for the Night Court as well."

He places a hand on Cassian’s shoulder with a firm, reassuring grip. "Follow your heart but keep your head with you. She’s not just any visitor. She could and is likely to be much more."

As Rhysand walks away leaving Cassian to ponder the future the conversation not only cements Cassian's resolve but also clarifies the stakes. It’s a turning point. Marking a shift from casual interest to considering the profound potential of a deep, lifelong bond. Cassian feels empowered and cautious now acutely aware of the significant path that might be unfolding before him. This is no longer about training or simple affection. It could be the beginning of the rest of his life, your life.

As dusk settles over Velaris with the fading sunlight casting long shadows across the training grounds, Cassian awaits your arrival. His mind a jumbled swirl of thoughts from the earlier conversation with Rhysand. His anticipation is palpable, heightened by the significant discussions about feelings and futures that may be closer than he's admitted to himself.

During that first meeting in the dining hall his mind was a whirlwind of emotions. As he and Azriel entered mid-argument his initial focus was entirely on their spirited debate not the important dinner he was walking into. The sudden sight of you was an unexpected and striking presence. You brought a sharp halt to his thoughts.

Cassian was immediately struck by your poise and the quiet confidence with which you held yourself among such esteemed company. His first impression was of your elegance and the serene way you observed the dynamic entrance he and Azriel made. There was something about the way you carried yourself as a blend of strength and grace that captivated him instantly.

Embarrassment quickly flooded him with a blush creeping up his neck as he realized the discordant note their arrival struck in the otherwise serene setting. There you were, seated elegantly among the dignitaries of the Night Court with an aura of quiet confidence radiating from you. Despite the potentially disruptive entrance your expression remained unflustered. The slight, knowing smirk playing at the corners of your lips, and the amusement twinkling in your eyes spoke volumes. It was clear you were not only unfazed by the raucous disruption but also mildly entertained by it.

What struck Cassian more deeply was the way your attention seemed focused solely on him, as if the room and its other occupants had faded into the background. This singular focus, paired with the amused arch of your brow, left him feeling both exposed and intrigued. It was as if you could see right through to his typically hidden insecurities prompting a mix of vulnerability and a compelling desire to engage further.

Cassian felt a twinge of chagrin for not having presented a more composed entrance. Especially in front of someone who commanded such a presence as you did. The initial embarrassment, however, slowly morphed into a quiet determination. He was keenly aware that he had an opportunity to make a more meaningful second impression. One that could perhaps intrigue and draw you in just as you had captivated him from that first shared glance.

As he moved to regain his composure, smoothing back his hair, and adjusting his jacket, Cassian was already plotting how to transform this awkward beginning into an opening for deeper connection. The evening had just begun, and he was determined to show you a side of him that resonated with the depth and discernment he now saw reflected in your gaze.

When Rhysand later suggested that Cassian take the lead on your physical training, he seized the opportunity without hesitation. Training was his domain where he felt most in command and most himself. He anticipated that in the structure and discipline of physical training, among the straightforwardness of drills and exercises, there might be space for more informal interactions. For laughter and light conversations that could bridge the gap between formal dining hall introductions and a genuine connection.

Cassian saw each upcoming session as a canvas. As an opportunity to impress and engage you, not just with his skills but with his insights and his approach to teaching and leadership. Privately he knew he’d have to thank Rhysand for the suggestion—whether it was a calculated move or just a fortuitous throwaway idea, it had given him a golden opportunity to explore the potential that he sensed bubbling beneath your initial poised exterior.

He was intrigued, more so than he had been for a long time. The initial physical attraction was strong. Yet it was your demeanor, the intriguing mix of diplomacy and candor, that truly piqued his interest. Cassian left the dining hall that evening with his mind full of questions and curiosities about you. He was eager for the next opportunity to interact and perhaps to understand the compelling figure you were beyond just the surface.

From the memories of that first dinner to the present moment on the training grounds, Cassian's journey of understanding and admiration for you had woven through weeks of anticipation and subtle discoveries. Each interaction had added layers to his initial perception, enriching the image he held of you in his mind.

Then as if to punctuate his thoughts you appeared for the training session, garbed unmistakably in Illyrian warrior attire. Much different than the training leathers and Winter Court apparel he had grown used to see you in. The traditional leathers of his people clung to you, accentuating both strength and grace in your every move. The sight of you in such commanding attire sent a jolt through Cassian. His reaction visceral and immediate. His eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and admiration flashing across his face as he took in every detail—the way the leather fit you, how it moved with your body, and the undeniable air of confidence it brought to your demeanor.

The transformation was not just in your appearance but in the energy you exuded. Standing there you embodied the strength and resilience of an Illyrian warrior, qualities that resonated deeply with Cassian’s own identity. It struck him then how seamlessly you seemed to integrate into his world. How naturally you adopted its symbols and its strength. This was no longer just about training or sharing skills. It was a visual affirmation of your integration into his life and culture.

As he approached you his initial shock gave way to a profound respect. The way you carried the weight of the armor, the casual yet respectful nod you gave him as he walked up. These small actions spoke volumes. Cassian felt a renewed sense of connection. A deeper bond forming not just from shared interests and conversations but from seeing you embrace a part of his heritage with such ease and honor.

In that moment as he closed the distance between you, Cassian realized how deeply he was drawn to you, far beyond the physical allure. It was your spirit. Your willingness to step into his world, to don the armor of his people and stand ready to engage on equal footing. This realization brought a warmth to his chest and a smile to his lips. One that was both proud and welcoming.

As you stood before Cassian in the Illyrian warrior attire your presence was a striking blend of determination and slight apprehension. The soft evening light cast long shadows across the training grounds accentuating the quiet resolve in your posture. You were about to propose a change to the day’s lighter, planned routine. While confident in your suggestion there was a hint of nervousness tinged your voice, reflecting the care you took in challenging the agenda.

"Um, Cassian," you started, your voice carrying a cautious undertone, "I know we planned for a less sword-intensive session today..." You paused trying to gather your thoughts. But before you could continue your eyes met Cassian’s, their intensity like a direct challenge, causing a sudden vulnerability to flutter in your stomach. His gaze was penetrating, studying you with a warmth and focus that unnerved you. For a moment the confidence you felt started to waver under his scrutiny. The depth of his attention making you want to melt into a puddle right there on the training grounds.

However, drawing a deep breath, you summoned your resolve. Despite the shake in your confidence, you pressed on bolstered by the knowledge that this was an important step in your training. "I feel fine. But I've been thinking. I'm already quite familiar with my magic, and not as much with swordsmanship." Your voice grew slightly firmer as you continued, "Maybe, if it’s alright, we could incorporate more of that?" As you reached the end of your proposal a slight stammer betrayed your nervousness. "If you're okay with that, that is," you added with a nervous smile. Eager yet uncertain of his response.

Cassian, still somewhat in awe of your striking appearance and the commanding aura you exuded in the traditional leathers was momentarily taken aback. His response was on the tip of his tongue, an agreement forming, when Azriel quietly joined the duo. Observing the scene, Azriel noted your determined stance and Cassian’s admiring gaze. A knowing smirk crept onto Azriel’s face. "Looks like she’s going to give you a run for your money, brother," he teased unable to hide the amusement in his voice.

Cassian was caught between his brother's teasing and your challenging proposal but managed to regain his composure. He cleared his throat and stepped forward, his confidence rekindled by the familiar banter and the prospect of a spirited training session. "Alright then," he agreed with a nod. A smile breaking through as he embraced the challenge, "swords it is. Let’s see what you’ve got."

As the session progressed Azriel lingered on the sidelines, his eyes shifting between the clashing swords and Cassian’s animated instructions. Every now and then he couldn’t resist throwing in a light-hearted jab especially when it seemed like Cassian was particularly impressed by your quick learning curve or deft movements. "Careful, Cass, I think she might just outdo you in your own game," Azriel called out after a particularly skillful maneuver from you. His tone teasing but proud of you.

Cassian shot a mock-glare at Azriel, but his eyes sparkled with humor and something softer, an undeniable delight in your prowess and enthusiasm. Despite himself Cassian found that he enjoyed this, the mix of training intensity and the undercurrent of playful rivalry. Not just between him and you but with Azriel's involvement as well. It felt oddly, natural. You’d found a way to integrate yourself into the court within only a month of being in Velaris.

Throughout the training Cassian’s admiration for you only grew. Every block, every parry you performed with increasing confidence seemed to not only impress him but also deepen the sense of connection that he felt. This wasn’t just about teaching you how to handle a sword. It was about sharing a piece of his world, his passion, and seeing you embrace it with such fervor was both exhilarating and endearing.

As the sun dipped below the horizon Azriel’s teasing remarks faded into the background, replaced by a quiet acknowledgment of the shift he saw in Cassian. It was clear to him that his brother was, indeed, in trouble. But in the best possible way. Cassian's usually unshakeable demeanor was softer when he looked at you, filled with a mix of pride, respect, and a burgeoning affection that went beyond the confines of the training ring.

When the session finally wound down and the cool evening air settled around, both you and Cassian were catching your breath, reveling in the afterglow of intense physical exertion. It was then that Azriel, unable to resist the opportunity for a little brotherly teasing, stepped forward. Clapping Cassian on the back with a broad grin he couldn’t help but comment, "Well, that was quite a performance. And here I thought today was supposed to be less about swords."

Cassian, still a bit winded from the session, shot Azriel a quick, warning glance. But even he couldn’t hide the amused smile that tugged at his lips, indicative of his own acknowledgment of the shift in plans. Your puzzled look darted between the two brothers catching the tail end of their dynamic, your smile mirroring Cassian's albeit with a touch of confusion.

"Less swords, more magic, but I guess plans change when you're dressed for battle," you chimed in attempting to play off Azriel's comment, still somewhat oblivious to the deeper layers of teasing.

Azriel’s smirk widened as he observed the interplay, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Absolutely, plans do change. Especially when a certain someone decides to show up looking ready to join the ranks of Illyrian warriors," he teased you, turning his gaze back to Cassian with a sly expression. "Makes a general reconsider his strategies."

Caught in the moment, you shared the origin of your attire, a light chuckle escaping you. "Feyre absolutely insisted on me wearing the traditional leathers," you explained, your smile fond as you recalled Feyre's insistence. "I thought it was just for protection, given the training. She seemed really adamant about it."

Cassian’s expression softened at this with a brief smile acknowledging the hidden hand of Rhysand in this setup. Though he connected the dots, realizing his brother's likely involvement in Feyre's insistence, he chose to keep this revelation to himself. Instead, he simply nodded, appreciating your earnestness and perhaps, deep down, thankful for the unintended push it gave him to see you in a new light—strong, capable, and utterly captivating in Illyrian leathers.

As the training session drew to a close and the night deepened around them, the playful banter and shared laughter began to ebb. Azriel's remarks, though lighthearted, had hinted at the shift he observed in the dynamics between you and Cassian. A development that seemed to promise much more than just companionship in the future.

Recognizing the cooling air and the perfect, serene evening that enveloped Velaris, Cassian suggested a leisurely walk back through the city. "How about I walk you home tonight? It's a nice evening to cool down and stretch out after training," he proposed. His voice casual but with a hopeful undertone.

Azriel caught the subtle inflection in Cassian’s tone and simply couldn’t resist one more jab, his knowing smile broadening into a full-blown, mischievous grin. "Sure, take your time," he teased, his voice rich with implication. With a final chuckle and a wink at Cassian, Azriel spread his wings and took to the skies leaving you both to the quiet of the evening streets.

Cassian walked beside you there was a thoughtful distance in his initial steps. As if he was contemplating the right words or simply savoring the shared silence. Gradually, he drew closer, his presence a comforting constant at your side. The soft lighting from the streetlamps cast gentle shadows and the faint rustle of the leaves created a backdrop that enriched the moment with a quaint, almost magical quality.

Every now and then his hand would lightly touch your arm or guide you around an uneven patch on the cobblestones. Each contact sending a quiet thrill through you. Despite the casual nature of the walk there was an undercurrent of something deeper. A thread of anticipation weaving through the air between you.

"Same time tomorrow?" Cassian finally broke the silence. His voice a blend of softness and something undefinable yet unmistakably tender.

"Definitely," you replied with your smile genuine and wide. The connection you felt with Cassian was undeniable and while you might not fully grasp the depth of his feelings, the pull towards him was strong and only growing stronger with each passing day.

When you reached your quarters Cassian lingered for a moment, his demeanor protective and gentle. He seemed reluctant to part ways, but he was satisfied to know you were safe for the night. "Make sure you rest well tonight," he said with his hand resting briefly on your back, his smile warm and lingering as he wished you a good night.

Retreating to your room, the echoes of the evening replayed in your mind. The laughter, Azriel's teasing, the soft, serious timbre of Cassian's voice asking to see you again. There was an excitement brewing within you. An eagerness for what these sessions and these new feelings might lead to. It was an intriguing mix of anticipation and a bit of nervousness, stepping into this newfound connection with Cassian, but every instinct told you it was a path worth exploring. As you settled down with thoughts of the next day’s training, and more importantly, of seeing Cassian again, it filled you with a warm sense of expectation and a quiet joy.

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[bikananjarrus]

okay so i wanted to rewatch the scene at the end of 2x03 to see if i could figure out exactly by whom/how/when brasso got shot down, because i definitely did not catch it on my first watch. plus i've seen a few people say now that cassian accidentally shot him down with the TIE (which would fuck me up so bad). but after rewinding the scene a couple times, i think that might not be true, based off this screenshot:

right before this, we saw the troopers on the ground firing at brasso's speeder as he drove away past the silo. we see one of the shots blast off a piece of his speeder, but not hit him directly. and then cassian loops around the silo in the fighter and fires on the soldiers on the ground. in the screenshot you can see where the TIE's targeting computer is focused on the imperial soldiers, but you can also see the trail through the field (where the red arrow is following) which i believe is the trail left by brasso's speeder.

after cass dumps the grain on the remaining soldier, he sees brasso's downed speeder and sets down the fighter. so i don't think cassian accidentally shot him down. but it's also still unclear if the stormtroopers shot him or not, because we don't actually see that happen. so yay (maybe) for cassian not having his friend's death on his conscience. but also i wish they had made it a bit clearer how brasso died.

[merelyspecters]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Andor (TV), Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso, Cassian Andor/Bix Caleen Characters: Cassian Andor, Jyn Erso, Bix Caleen Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Post-Battle of Scarif (Star Wars), Cassian Andor Lives, Jyn Erso Lives, Cassian Andor and Jyn Erso Live, Trauma, Complicated Relationships, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Grief/Mourning, canon compliant besides the fact that they yknow live, which includes everything with bix, Love Triangles, Angst, Bittersweet, Rebellion Era (Star Wars), one shot Summary:

Tragedy bonds. Being the “only survivors” forges a chain between hearts. It’s why Cassian and Vel raise toasts to Aldhani. But there’s Aldhani… And then there’s Scarif.

Or; how Jyn and Cassian's relationship evolves, after they survive.

[angrypurplebean]

REBEL CAPTAIN SHIPPERS I NEED YOUR HELP!!!!!

Ok so I read this Jyn/Cassian fanfic a while ago and I can’t find it!!! It is either on Tumblr or Ao3! I know the exact plot. So just to get is out of the way it was smut.

So Jyn was mad a Cassian for leaving (for god knows how long) when he comes back to the base she is still pissed. And basically they are all at a cantina and Jyn takes this X-wing pilot to the back so where they make out and do other hands on things. Well Cassian caught them and was low key kinda pissed. Long story short they have angry sex which was kinda public. Remember this is angsty so there was I think crying afterwards and both left each other angry, upset, and sad.

Please help me I really want to read it again!!!! Don’t ask why I just do! STAR WARS FANDOM HELP ME YOUR MY ONLY HOPE

Update: WE FOUND THE FIC!!!!

[honeylashofficial]

Ash Angels | a Rogue One Fix-it fic

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Chapter One: Distance (Ao3)

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Teen and Up F/M (eventually) No Archive Warnings Apply (currently) Complete? No

1.6K (as of chapter one)

—+—

The remains of Scarif are burning.

Jyn and Cassian’s hopes are burning.

But the galaxy and its resistance only grows stronger amid the intense heat of war.

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Canon Divergence Slow Burn Strangers to Friends to Lovers Angst Blood and Injury Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Check Ao3 for the full list of tags!