#tog x acotar crossover

[rowaelinsdaughter]

please, please, please

a/n;; long time since I uploaded anything here BUT here is a fic I LOVE so much, it's like my ideal reality having feyre and aelin as my mates 😭🛐 want to thank @throneofsapphics for being my beta reader for this fic 🫶🏻💌

warnings;; smut, smut, smut, oral fem! receiving, fingering, threesome, face sitting and soft moments.

the grass was soft and comfortable beneath her, like a cloud. the breeze was calm but pleasant, and the sun rays were a welcomed warmth to her skin. she heard a distant whispering but she didn’t find the strength to open her eyes, instead she enjoyed the sweet calm of the field.

time passed and the whispering started to grow into a more clear sound, voices. female voices.

“hush, you will wake her up.”

“that is what we want.”

“yes, but not like that.”

she started to blink, trying to adjust to the sun that made its way through the heavy curtains of the room. a room, not the field she was a moment ago… a dream. she tried to focus on her surroundings, the curtains, the sheets, a body behind her… and another body between her legs. aelin. a wicked smile on her face as she said to her. “good morning, sweetheart.”

“what are you doing?” two hands gripped her nightgown and stripped her, leaving her naked before the hungry gaze of her mates. feyre kissed her below her ear, in that exact point that made her shiver.

“we wanted to wake you up in a special way, but aelin wouldn’t stop talking,” she said, her mouth traveling down to her neck, biting and kissing. her breath hitched and her tights clenched but aelin gripped them and pushed them apart, leaving her cunt bare before her.

“it’s not my fault that our angel is so perfect,” she bit her, a trail of blood running down her thigh “besides, it was your idea.”

“it doesn’t matter… really” her voice breathless as feyre’s hands wandered through her body. up and up till her skilled fingers were under her breasts. her nipples were already hard and sensitive and a whimper fell from her mouth when aelin’s finger stroked her cunt like a feather. “so pretty our little girl, ready for us to do whatever we want with her, are you?”

a nod. “use your pretty voice darling” feyre said, her fingers nipping her nipples.

“yes, do whatever you want with me, please please please” she cried. feyre giggled and aelin smiled. “good girl” and then she was on her cunt, her hands gripping her tights. a loud moan from her at the sweet taste of her.

her head fell back to feyre’s shoulder and she cried when feyre gripped her breasts. she felt dizzy, too many sensations at once, she couldn’t think straight, all her senses were on her mates. she looked down and the sight nearly made her cum. aelin was eating her like she was starving, her eyes were on fire and she couldn’t resist the urge to grip her blonde hair. feyre bit her neck and moved a hand to her clit.

“feyre- fuck” she screamed. it was too much.

aw, poor little thing.

aelin entered a finger to her dripping cunt, then a second one, and a third one. in, out, in out. “fuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god. i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum, please” her voice was flickering, she wanted to cum so bad.

“you want to cum, little thing?” aelin purred.

“yes please, please, please.”

“what do you think fey, should we let her cum?” they stopped and she whimpered at the loss of her fingers inside her and feyre’s hand on her clit, instead she gripped her chin so she was looking at her. her breath was fast, and her eyes pleading for release.

she waited for a verbal answer but instead she kissed her, her tongue touching hers, dancing around each other, that was the signal aelin needed to continue with her work. her teeth bit softly her clit and she heard the scream feyre swallowed, not wanting to let her go from the kiss. her tongue moved faster on her cunt, her fluids were everywhere and she lost her sanity at it.

she felt the knot on her belly, gods, she was going to cum so hard, she could feel it and so they mates could. she broke the kiss but didn’t get too far away, her lips were still touching but she couldn’t stop moaning.

“aelin, aelin-”

and she came, but aelin didn’t stop, swallowing everything she was giving her like some exotic fruit she couldn’t stop eating. finally, she stopped, a last lick to her cunt and sat on her heels.

her eyes were closed and her breath labored, she felt numb and relaxed. a weight beneath her forced her to open her eyes… just in time to see aelin kiss feyre, grabbing her neck so she can’t move apart. and she clenched her thighs again. gosh, they looked like goddesses and she felt like a mere mortal and she was ready to get on her knees for them.

aelin was the first one to break the kiss but feyre bit her lower lip and she heard a low growl from aelin. “i think our little girl is ready for another round,” feyre said, and they both looked at her “are you?”

aelin moved so she was on top of her. her golden hair a curtain that framed her ethereal face, and she couldn’t resist asking. “can i eat you?” she giggled but fell back to the bed and opened her legs, her cunt glistened from her fluids. she bit her lip and like she was moved by some kind of force, she went to taste her and she moaned at it. aelin gripped her hair and moaned at the sensation of her tongue on her cunt and clit.

she was so immersed in eating her, that she didn’t notice how feyre moved to aelin, each of her legs on either side of her head, her cunt near her mouth. aelin giggled at her and grabbed her to lower her down to her mouth. at the first contact of her tongue on her cunt feyre’s head fell back. she started moving her hips searching for the friction she needed to cum, and aelin moved her hips too.

she looked at them and moaned into aelin at the sight. she clenched her cunt and couldn’t resist the urge to move down a hand to her clit and start rubbing it.

feyre’s moves were fast and irregular, she was near, so they were all, so near to touch the sky of pleasure. “fuck, so good aelin, don’t stop, fuck” she gripped her hair to find some stability. aelin’s hands moved to grab her ass and slap her, making her moan loud enough for all the city to hear.

she moaned into aelin’s cunt, she was ready to cum again, but she wanted her to cum also, she wanted all of them to cum. and just like aelin had done to her, she entered three fingers into her and started thrusting fast and hard.

she heard her moan into feyre and she moaned also. the air was heavy, filled with lust and passion. “i’m about to cum, i’m-” feyre couldn’t finish. her legs closed around aelin’s head and then aelin was cuming on her mouth, and finally, she cummed.

their breath was labored but they all managed to find a comfortable place on the bed, feyre and aelin on either side of her, both their arms around her waist and the legs intertwined. aelin kissed her head from behind. “mmm, you have done it so good for us” another kiss, this time on her neck.

feyre grabbed her cheek softly and kissed her. “we love you darling.”

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all rights reserved to ©rowaelinsdaughter no tranlations allowed. no copy theme. don not copy my work.

[featherymalignancy]

CHAPTER TEN—In Vino Veritas: A Nessian Story

Summary: Nesta Archeron is convinced she has everything she wants: a law degree from an ivy, a prestigious job, a gorgeous boyfriend, and excellent taste in wine. However, when she wanders into her local wine vendor and meets a handsome stranger unafraid to play her quick-witted games, she begins to wonder if the life she’s built is really the one she wants.

Cash Kahukore worked his entire adolescent life to become a sommelier, ignoring the slurs his mixed heritage have always earned him as he fought his way to the top. However, after five years abroad buying for Michelin star restaurants and dealing with rich white assholes, he’s grown bored with his life. When a gorgeous lawyer comes in to his uncle’s shop one afternoon, he immediately recognizes a worthy opponent in her. Undaunted by her sharp tongue and possessive boyfriend, he’s determined to be her friend, and—as time goes on and their circumstances change—possibly something more.

Check out the In Vino Masterlist HERE

This a prequel to Navy Suits and Chelsea Boots that takes place three years before. If you love Elriel (and don’t mind finding out how this story ends) check it now.

Chapter 10, Pt. 1: Dom Perignon

Though Nesta had spent the better part of a week attempting to rationalize the feeling away, by Friday afternoon she could no longer deny it: she was nervous.  

Ordinarily, meeting new people didn’t scare Nesta. Winning over strangers was literally part of her job, after all, and her record in court suggested she was rather good at getting strangers to trust her. Compared to some of the juries Nesta had faced, meeting one of her boyfriend’s best friends should—in theory—have been a cakewalk. 

Except that Rhysand Sadeghi was no ordinary stranger, and Nesta couldn’t deny that he had several distressingly valid reasons for not liking her. Cash had never given her any details about his weekend with Azriel and Rhys in Vegas and Nesta had never asked, in large part because she selfishly didn’t want to know what ungenerous things he may of said about her while under the influence of alcohol and the pain she’d caused him.

Still, Rhys had seemed supportive enough when Cash and Nesta first went public with their relationship two months ago, which would have been enough to assuage the worst of Nesta’s fears about meeting him had she not also surmised from Cash’s many stories that the Sadeghi family prized loyalty above everything else, and that their good opinion, once lost, was difficult to regain. She wasn’t naive enough to think that a few flame emojis on an instagram post meant that Rhys genuinely approved of her. Despite Cash’s assurances to the contrary, Nesta could see Rhys’s current trip to the States for what it really was: a test.

When she’s suggested as much to Cash, he’d merely laughed, explaining that Rhys was coming to California to finalize an acquisition deal he’d been trying to close for months, and that he’d only decided to extend his trip and stay the weekend after Cash had suggested it.

It was a plausible enough story, Nesta supposed, and she might have even been tempted to accept it was true had Rhys been traveling alone.

 Except he wasn’t coming alone. 

Seemingly unsatisfied with the prospect of interrogating her one-on-one, Rhys had summoned what felt like a tribunal of Cash’s closest friends, including Mor and Azriel, despite the fact the former allegedly hating getting involved with the family’s real estate business and the latter lived over six hours away.

 Even Rowan was supposedly coming to their gathering this evening, and though Nesta might have otherwise been relieved to have him there as a potential ally, she felt she knew him well enough to understand that if Rowan was going to a nightclub, it was likely because Aelin was forcing him. Nesta had still yet to formally meet Aelin thanks to the latter's current AVP tournament schedule, and despite the role Nesta had played in saving Nehemiah from deportation, Aelin still remained very much a wildcard. 

As did Mor.

She’d been warm and perfectly friendly the first time Nesta met her, but things had admittedly been very different then. And now…

Nesta knew that Mor was one of Cash’s fiercest defenders, and she hadn’t deluded herself into thinking Mor would ever forgive her for what Nesta had put Cash through that night at Tonga Room, even if she didn’t know all the ugly details. 

Then again, maybe Mor would understand. From the little Cash had shared about her romantic history, Nesta had gathered that Mor had first-hand experience with abusive relationships. Perhaps if the opportunity presented itself this evening, Nesta could get Mor one-on-one. She knew that she had nothing to apologize for, but perhaps if she could explain her side of things, she and Mor could move past all the messiness and possibly start over. Maybe, with enough time and patience, they could even become... friends .

The idea filled Nesta with a dangerous sort of hope, and she found by the time that she got home to the townhouse she and Cash now shared that she was actually somewhat looking forward to seeing where the evening might take them. 

Kicking off her stilettos, Nesta gave her grandmother’s beloved bookcase an affectionate pat as she headed up the stairs to the main floor, calling for Cash as she did. 

“You still here, Mister?”

Yet another complication of the evening: Cash—who was in the final stage of interviews for the coveted North American brand manager position at Dom Pérignon—had been invited to a last-minute dinner with one of the company top executives, who’d flown in from Reims specifically for the meeting. Thrilled as Nesta was for Cash—particularly now that Devon was home and back running The Merchant full-time—she couldn’t help but be nervous for the two or so hours she’d be spending with his friends sans Cash. 

Nesta glanced at her watch and frowned. It was barely six o’clock, and the reservation wasn’t until nine-fifteen; surely he hadn’t left already. Checking her phone to ensure he hadn’t texted her, she made to call out again before hearing the rumble of his voice coming from the third floor. 

Abandoning her cell phone and purse on the dining room table, Nesta headed up the stairs, listening with increasing worry as Cash’s voice grew louder. 

He was in the study speaking to someone via video chat through the tv which had been mounted to the wall, and as Nesta drew closer, she heard an uncharacteristic bite in Cash’s tone that instantly had her good mood curdling to worry.

“If you didn’t want to come,” he was saying, voice harder than usual. “You could have at least been straight-up with me about it, instead of putting on this dog-and-pony show just to punish me—”

“Don’t be dramatic. I didn’t plan this, and I certainly didn’t do it to punish you.”

Nesta knew that voice—that lovely, posh accent, so much colder now than the first time she’d heard it. 

Mor.

And if she was on the phone, it meant she couldn’t be on a plane, and if she wasn’t on a plane, then that meant—

Nesta’s shame spiral was interrupted by the sound of Cash’s brittle laughter.

“Oh I see. To punish Nesta, then.”

Mor was silent for a moment, her voice softer but no less fierce when she finally said, “I’m not trying to punish her, either, but can you honestly tell me she wouldn’t deserve it if I was?”

Nesta’s heart sank, dragging her down with such brutal force that she had to lean against the wall to keep her balance. Every fear she’d had about meeting Cash’s friends came flooding back to the surface, and she felt the guilt she’d been trying to swallow these past months rising like bile in her throat, acrid enough to make her mouth water.

“I don’t have to justify myself to you and neither does she,” Cash said. “Jesus, what is your problem?” 

Mor gave a soft snort of disgust, her own patience seemingly frayed by Cash’s accusatory tone.

“Oh, so now I’m the villain? Even though she's the one who strung you along then broke your trust? Look, I get that she’s been through a lot and that you always want to see the best in people, but sometimes you’ve got to do the selfish thing and put yourself first.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Cash demanded.

“It means that having a shitty ex—even an abusive one—isn’t an excuse for treating others badly! I’ve known a million girls just like her, and I’ve seen how this story ends. She’s a taker, and if you let her, she will take and take and take from you until there’s nothing left.”

Mor’s words struck Nesta like a blow, driving straight to the fear that most often plagued her about her relationship: that she was selfish for still wanting Cash after everything she’d put him through, and that by continuing to be with him, she was proving she cared more for herself than she did him.

Six months ago, that one thought would have been enough to send Nesta spiraling into panic and self-doubt. Today—despite the pain—she managed to catch herself, rooting down in the knowledge that what she and Cash now had, they’d built together .

Cash—for his part—seemed equally as unwilling to allow the comment to find its mark.

“You don’t know her, though. You don’t know a goddamn thing about her, because if you did, you’d understand what an absolute dickhead you’re being right now.”

Mor gave a tight, almost-pained, sigh.

“I’m not saying this to hurt you. I’m telling you because I care about you and I’m worried.”

“Well you have a shitty way of showing it,” Cash snapped. “I love this girl, Mor! Does that really mean so little to you?”

It had apparently been the wrong thing to say, because when she finally spoke again, Mor’s voice had gone cold enough to burn.

“Do what you want, then,” she said flatly. “I’m not going to pretend I’m fine with this just because no one else has the bollocks to tell you the truth.”

There was a pause before Cash replied, voice softer but no less edged, “You’re way out of line right now; if you don’t want to admit it to me, I hope you can at least find the courage to admit it to yourself.”

“Fine,” Mor said. “Anything else?”

“Actually yes,” Cash said, a renewed bite in his tone. “While we’re on the subject of messing about in other people’s business, get off Az’s back . He’s never going to be able to open up enough to meet someone when he’s terrified you won’t approve of anyone he picks.”

Mor’s answering laugh was acerbic, and though Nesta didn’t know her well, the bitterness in her tone didn’t seem to suit the bright, kind women Nesta remembered meeting all those months ago.

“Why, so he can meet a girl like Nesta?” 

“You wanna lose me? Stay one more cruel thing about her, I fucking dare you.”

“Cash—”

“Goodbye Morrigan.”

Nesta listened as Cash ended the call before swearing to himself, the sound partially muffled as he presumably buried his head in his hands.

Nesta remained where she was, debating if she ought to just sneak back downstairs and pretend she hadn’t heard any of what had just been said. It would be easier for Cash if he could keep believing he’d managed to shield Nesta from the worst of Mor’s scorn.

Nesta’s mind was nearly made up when she recalled the look on Cash’s face as he’d begged her not to lie to him anymore, even in the service of protecting his feelings.

It was that promise which gave Nesta the courage to finally move, deliberately shuffling her bare feet along the rug in the hallway to alert him of her presence before pausing in the doorway.

Cash raised his head, his tender expression managing to slightly lessen the current ache in Nesta’s chest.

“Hi,” she said, leaning her head against the wall as she took him in.

“Hi,” he said, seeming to study her with the same intensity. “How much of that did you catch?”

She shrugged, not bothering to hide the truth of it in her eyes.

“Enough,” she admitted.

Cash swore softly before extending his arms to her.

“Can I hold you?”

That he’d asked—that he’d cared enough to seek her permission instead of simply reaching for her—soothed a part of Nesta she’d hadn’t realized was still healing.

Wordlessly she crossed to him, sinking into his lap and breathing in his inviting masculine scent. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers.

“Don’t be,” she said, fighting to keep the emotion out of her voice. “I understand.”

“No, please don’t do that,” he said. “Don’t internalize this.”

“She's not wrong, Cash.”

“Yes she is!” he said, his voice firm. Still, his touch remained gentle as he reached to cup her cheeks. “What happened at Tonga was between us , and we’ve moved past it! Besides—”

He let out a sigh.

“Look, this doesn’t excuse her behavior, but this isn’t about you. Mor’s got plenty of her own baggage she’s yet to fully square up with, and sometimes I think she chooses to get overly-invested in other people’s problems to avoid having to deal with her own.”

“I understand why she doesn’t care for me,” Nesta said. “If the situations were reversed, I’d likely feel the same way. I just—I don’t want you to lose friends because of me.”

“I haven’t lost anything,” Cash assured her. “Mor and I have been in much nastier fights than this before and we’ve always managed to patch things up. Besides, if she truly isn’t willing to give the woman I love a chance, she isn’t the friend I thought she was.”

Nesta nodded, desperate to take comfort in what he’d said about Mor and move on. Still, hearing the righteous venom Mor harbored had felt to Nesta the way she assumed opening that damned box had made Pandora feel, and now that the floodgates had been opened, she found there was one fear in particular she couldn’t shake. 

Unable to suppress the urge any longer, she finally asked, “And Aelin?”

“Aelin?” Cash asked, brows knitting. “What about her?”

“Please don’t play dumb,” Nesta said, hating the slight pleading in her voice. “I assume she hates me, too.”

Cash gave a wry smile that she couldn’t help but be slightly assuaged by. 

“On the contrary, Aelin has been picking out our wedding china since before we were even dating.”

Nesta huffed a laugh, and he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“And next to Rowan, Nehemiah is hands-down the most important person in Aelin’s life. Regardless of what she may have thought before, I guarantee that after what you did to help NeNe, you have a friend for life in Aelin.”

“I’m sorry,” Nesta said. “For causing all this. I didn’t—”

She broke off, and though Cash waited for her to finish, she realized after a beat she didn't actually know what to say.

“Nesta,” Cash said softly. “I love you. Nothing anyone else says will change my mind about that, and I am never going to let anyone tear you down, whether you think you deserve it or not.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” Nesta asked, tucking a strand of dark hair that had come loose behind his ear. 

Cash answering grin was soft and achingly lovely.

“Should I go alphabetically or chronologically?”

Nesta brushed his lips with the pads of her fingers, her own smile growing as well. It never ceased to amaze her how easily he could change her mood.

“Chronologically.”

“Okay,” Cash said, tugging her more fully into his lap so he could kiss her neck. “Then how about this morning in the shower?”

With similar schedules and a dual-head shower in the master bath, they showered together most mornings, a simple ritual that had nonetheless become one of Nesta’s favorites. 

Most days they merely shared the space in contented silence, focusing on their own tasks and only speaking to request the other fetch the shampoo or pass the body wash. However, when Nesta glanced over that morning just in time to watch Cash tip his head back to rinse his hair, water cascading down his toned back and over his gorgeously sculpted ass, she hadn’t been able to resist. Pushing him against the wall, she’d gotten on her knees and sucked him off until his eyes had rolled back in his head. 

They’d ended up staying in the shower until the water had gone tepid after that.

“That was mutual,” she reminded him. 

Cash grinned, leaning up to kiss her neck again.

“The sounds you make when I fuck your ass honestly make me feel like I’ve won the lottery,” he said against her skin.

“I know,” she said with a smirk, moving to slide off his lap. “You should probably start getting ready. You need to leave in an hour and a half.”

Cash was undeterred by her prudence. 

“That’s plenty of time,” he breathed, hitching up the pencil skirt she wore and toying with the waistband of her black silk thong. “Take these off and let me make you feel good.”

Nesta dug her nails into his toned shoulders, grinding against him almost involuntarily. 

“Here?” She asked, distracted by the fact he was already growing hard beneath her. 

“Study’s still on the list.”

It was a tempting offer, and though part of Nesta badly needed the distraction, the lingering guilt over what she’s wrought between Cash and Mor kept the worst of her selfish impulses in check.

“You went down on me in here last week,” she pointed out in deflection.

Cash, unsurprisingly, wasn’t deterred by this explanation.

“True,” he agreed. “But your sister called before I could make you come, so it doesn’t count,” he said, tugging her thong up until the fabric was roughly splitting her. “Don’t make me beg, gorgeous.”

She couldn’t hold back the groan when he gave another her thong coaxing tug, the material brushing against her unsheathed clit.

“I like when you beg,” she said, already growing breathless from his machinations. 

“What’s coincidence,” he said, leaning forward to nip at her ear. “I like when you beg, too.”

“I don’t beg,” she said, not quite ready to give up their little game despite her own growing anticipation for what was sure to follow.

Cash’s answering laugh was pure sin.

“Don’t tempt me to make a liar out of you, Nes. We both know that I could have you crawling on hands and knees for me if I wanted, and that you’d enjoy every sweet second of it.”

Nesta only smirked in response, sliding off his lap in a way that made him groan in pleasure. Slowly she retreated to the opposite wall before shucking the thong off from beneath her pencil skirt and kicking it to his feet in offering.  

Cash settled further into the plush velvet couch in answer, arms draped across the back and legs casually splayed. 

“Good girl. Now everything else,” he said in a silken command. 

She flashed him a tarty, ‘fuck-me’ smile. 

“Everything?”she repeated.

He studied her with a stark male appreciation that made her instantly wet, his gaze slithering  from her bare feet to the chignon still wound into her hair. 

“You can leave the earrings.”

“How generous,” she said, easing the hem of her silk blouse out from where it had been tucked into her skirt and beginning to unbutton it. 

Cash made a soft sound of appreciation as she finally slid the garment from her shoulders and tossed it onto a nearby club chair. 

His eyes glazed a bit as she reached behind her back to unfasten her bra next. When the clasp came free, she tossed the frilly scraps of evergreen lace into his lap. 

Though he hadn’t moved from his languid position on the couch, Nesta could clearly make out the consequence of her teasing as it pushed against the front of Cash’s trousers. 

“Don’t stop,” he urged, voice midnight soft now. 

Nesta obeyed, pulling the clip from her hair and giving it a soft shake before finally reaching for the zipper of her skirt. Cash was practically panting by the time Nesta began easing the garment down her thighs, and when she straightened to reveal her completely bare form, his eyes were dark with hunger. 

He surveyed her for a moment without comment, head slightly cocked as he admired her beneath the soft glow of the office’s recessed lighting. His gaze was like warm honey, sweetly clinging to every place on her body it touched. She felt her own desire coming alive under his unceasing attention, and she rubbed her legs together to ease the ache which had begun to throb between them. 

Sensing her impatience he finally rose, advancing on her with quiet intent before pushing her against the bookcase which had been built into the wall and kissing her. She moaned as he eased his tongue into her mouth, the soft material of his shirt brushing against her bare chest as he strung an arm around her waist and tugged her more fully into him.

She moaned again when his hand finally found its way between her thighs, but he only spared her a teasing stroke or two before coaxing her legs around his waist, carrying her to the center of the room and easing her onto the sheepskin rug.

She might have objected to being naked on the floor had the cleaning woman not been there the day before. Cash must have thought the same because he laughed; not at her, but in a way that told it safe to let go. 

“Relax for me, sweetheart,” he said, lips brushing a spot on her neck which instantly had her melting.

Noting the change, he huffed another soft laugh onto her skin, lightly grazing the same spot with his teeth before breathing, “good girl.”

Nesta wasn’t ashamed to admit what praise did for her in bed, but she had little time to revel in Cash’s words before he was easing his way down her body, lips brushing her ribs and the crease of her hip before his tongue lazily found its way directly between her legs.

She swore at the first contact, her fingers finding their way into the dark water of his hair and tugging as he applied a small amount of pressure just where she needed him.

She could still hear Mor’s venomous rebuke ringing in her ears, but the words grew fainter with each careful stroke of Cash’s tongue, her conscious mind yielding to pure sensation.

Despite the time constraint, Cash remained unhurried in his task, and Nesta was weak-kneed and covered in a thin sheen of sweat by the time release finally found her.

Cash pulled back slightly to survey her, a satisfied smirk tugging at his full mouth when he brushed a finger down her torso and she trembled in response. 

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he breathed, bending to kiss her.

“What time—” she began, but he cut her off with another kiss.

“It’s 7:15,” he said against her lips. “You still have plenty of time to get ready.”

However, when he attempted to pull back she dug her nails into his shoulders to keep him close. 

“Take your clothes off. I need you inside of me.”

His answering laugh skimmed across her bare skin like silk.

“As my lady commands.”

“Now, pleasant,” she said, pressing a teasing foot to the center of  his chest and nudging him back.

Cash laughed again before rising to his feet and beginning to undress. When he peeled off his shirt, her hand found its way between her legs almost of its own volition, moving lazily as she drank him in. 

“That’s it, gorgeous,” he said, hands at his belt buckle now. “keep going.”

“I’d rather have your fingers between my legs,” she admitted.

He chuckled.

“I wouldn’t. You know what watching you get yourself off does to me.”

“Maybe sometime you’ll let me watch you, Handsome.” 

They hadn’t experimented with mutual masturbation yet, but it was on Nesta’s list. 

By now Cash had shed his boxer briefs to reveal—unsurprisingly—that he was fully ready for her. 

“I could come just from the way you look at me,” he said, stroking himself as he once again knelt to join her. 

Before she could protest, he put his head between her thighs again, tongue focused solely on her clit as he continued working himself. When she felt herself begin to tip over the edge he pulled back, pressing a hand to the crease of her hip and sinking into her in a single motion. 

It was timed perfection she could only marvel at. In several quick thrusts the head of his cock scraped her g-spot just as her orgasm had been ready to fade, and she came hard.

“That’s it,” he said as she clenched around him, trembling. “Squeeze me, Nes.”

She panted as the sensations continued to ripple through her.

“How did you even—“

“Because I know this body even better than you do,” he said. “ Fuck , that was so hot to watch.”

“Ride me,” Nesta demanded in response. “Hard.”

“Flip over,” he said. 

She did, and he wasted no time in sinking inside of her again, one foot braced on the carpet for better leverage as he grabbed her hips.

“Keep touching yourself.”

“I’m not going to be able to come again,” she said. 

“We’ll see about that. Go on Lovely, do it for me.”

Her clit was still throbbing from his earlier machinations so Nesta kept her touch featherlight as he began to move. Instead of thrusting forward into her, Cash instead pulled her back onto him while Nesta rocked her weight in the opposite direction to create tension. It was a rhythm they’d discovered early on in their sexual odyssey, and the friction was blinding for both of them. 

The room filled with the sound of their bodies as they came together, and Nesta could feel the swing of Cash’s stones against her ass as he thrust, a depraved sensation that drove her out of her mind with want. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” she demanded. 

“I’m thinking that if this rug wasn’t three grand, I’d be tempted to pull out and come all over you.”

“You’re close?” 

“Oh God , yes.”

Nesta couldn’t help but preen at that.

“Keep talking,” she demanded, always greedy for as much of him as she could get.

And Cash, God love him, was always just as eager to oblige. 

“Do you know why I like to go down on you right before we have sex?”

“Tell me.”

His thrusts increased in intensity, a sign he was close. 

“Because your gorgeous little cunt is so tight, I’m never sure if I’ll be able to last long enough to give you an orgasm.”

“You’ve given me tons of vaginal orgasms,” Nesta panted.

“Only through sheer power of will. Fuck , Nes.”

She threw her hips back into Cash’s a final time and he was a goner.

He kneaded her ass with a firm grip as he emptied himself inside her, and though Nesta felt herself going boneless as the pleasure Cash had thrust her into finally began to relax its hold. 

Fisting her hair, Cash coaxed her head back for a soft kiss before pulling out and slapping her ass. 

“Go jump in the shower, I’ll join you in a second.”

Nesta  rose to her feet, keeping her thighs neatly tucked to avoid making a mess of the carpet after all. Cash marked the gesture before rewarding it with a cocky, bone-melting smirk. The Nesta of a year ago would have snarled at him for the stark appreciation shining in his eyes; today she could only marvel that he seemed to find her as desirable as she found him.

A beat of comfortable silence passed as they remained drinking one another in, and when Nesta’s gaze finally met Cash’s again, it was to find his expression had faded to something almost reverent, though the hunger remained.

“I know it probably makes me a total caveman, but I never get tired of seeing you full of me like that.”

The admission was so stark and primal that Nesta felt her belly clenching pleasantly.

“Maybe it does,” she agreed. “But I’m too much of a junkie for that look you’re giving me to care.”

Cash laughed.

“She digs the caveman vibe; good to know.”

Nesta rolled her eyes, even as she laughed a little herself. 

“Don’t push it,” she said, turning to the door and slipping down the hall to the bathroom.

Despite his promise, Nesta more than halfway through her post-sex shower ritual by the time Cash joined her, his touch warming her skin in a way the water alone never could.

“Are you going to miss me while I’m at dinner?” He asked, kissing her neck.

“Of course,” she said, leaning in as he nipped playfully at her ear.

“How much?” 

“Enough that I’m still debating if I ought to call a bomb threat into Mastro’s so dinner will have to be postponed.”

Normally Cash would have simply laughed at that, but he must have heard something in Nesta’s tone, because he pulled away slightly so he could study her, a frown tugging at his sensuous lips.

“Are you seriously nervous about tonight, because you have no reason to be; everyone is going to love you.”

“Everyone except Mor, you mean.”

Cash’s frown deepened, though his gaze remained almost unbearably tender.

“Don’t worry about her.”

“How can I not?”

“Nes—“

“It’s fine,” she said, slipping past him to grab her towel. She turned, forcing a smile as she reassured him, “I’m fine.”

She left before he could push the issue, trying to focus on getting ready as a means of distraction from Mor’s voice still echoing on repeat in her head.

Cash, for his part, seemed to sense she didn’t want to be pushed, because she was nearly through drying her hair by the time he finally re-emerged, dressed in a burgundy sport coat and slacks, his own hair pulled back in his typical style.

He didn’t immediately speak, simply leaned against the doorframe and watched her as she finished her hair and moved onto her makeup. 

She allowed his silent assessment for as long as she could bear before glancing up at him in the mirror and snapping, “what?”

Her tone was slightly sharper than she would have liked, but she was still learning how to accept his concern without defensiveness.

“Do you want me to cancel dinner?”

At this she stopped what she was doing, turning from her vanity to face him fully.

“Are you insane?”

“Gabriel already told me last week that I’m Dom’s top choice. If that’s true, then they will understand—”

“I’m sure it is true!” she interrupted. “But how could you possibly think I’d let you take that risk? Especially over something so trivial.”

“Your emotional safety isn’t trivial,” he said quietly. “Not to me.”

She felt herself softening at that, especially as she noted the unbearable tenderness which had crept into his expression.

“I know that,” she said. “But you should know that I would never let you give up something this important for my sake.”

“Fair enough,” he said, but before she could revel in the knowledge he wouldn’t be risking his career over something as petty and inconsequential as her feelings, he added, “then don’t go tonight. You can meet my friends another time.”

Nesta couldn’t hold back the surprised laugh which slipped out, the sound brittle even to her ears.

“And how will that look? You can’t make it so I just decide to bail?”

“I don’t really give a shit how it looks. I only care that you are alright.”

“I am,” she assured him, and seeing that she’d yet to fully convince him, she added, “At least, I’m getting there. I know what tonight means to you, and that’s important to me! Besides, I want a chance to get to know your friends and for them to get to know me. I can’t do that if I spend the rest of our relationship casually hiding from them.”

Cash’s expression didn’t change, but Nesta could tell the idea pleased him, which only hardened her resolve to see things through.

“You’re sure?” He said.

“Seeing as we already know that my biggest detractor won’t be there, how bad can it be?” Nesta said, turning back and flashing him a sardonic smirk in the mirror.

“Too soon,” Cash said with a huffed laugh, coming over to kiss her cheek before adding more quietly, “I love you.”

In lieu of responding, she reached back to string a hand around his neck, scraping her nails along the nape in a gesture she knew soothed him.

They remained there for a long moment in comfortable silence before Cash gently extricated himself.

“I’ll let you finish getting ready,” he said. “I’m not leaving for another twenty minutes.”

Nesta nodded, leaning into him for another kiss on the cheek before attending to her makeup.

Cash was sitting at the kitchen island reviewing LVMH’s latest earning statement when Nesta finally emerged, the soft rustle of her sequined mini dress the only sound as Cash eyed her appreciatively.

“You like?” She asked, reaching the landing and giving a turn to show the open back and dangerously-short hem. “It’s new.”

“You look stunning,” he replied, eyes twinkling. “Though I would argue that has very little to do with the dress.”

She rolled her eyes even as she draped an arm over his shoulders and settled into his lap. She didn’t miss the way his gaze flitted to the forbidden stretch of thigh which was revealed as her skirt rode up to accommodate the new position.

“I assume LVMH is sending a car?”

Cash nodded, smoothing a hand down said thigh and causing Nesta’s skin to tingle.

“Should be here in five.”

She nodded, preparing to ask if he was ready for the meeting when he spoke first.

“Okay, last offer, hear me out.”

“Cash—” she began, attempting to stand up even as he coaxed her to remind where she was.

“I can tell Az we’ll just meet him at the club, then you can hang out here and wait for me and we can go toge—”

“Don’t do that, he’s probably already on his way,” Nesta cut in. “And I said I’ll be fine, so I will be. Just…stop, please.”

Cash opened his mouth as if he wanted to argue before his phone dinged, signaling his driver had arrived. 

“Go,” she said, sliding to her bare feet. “You don’t want to be late.”

After a final moment’s hesitation he did the same, straightening his slacks as she grabbed his sports coat from the back of a nearby stool and held it out for him.

He obliged her, slipping his arms through and shrugging it on as Nesta came around to adjust the collar. She sometimes forgot just how much taller he was than her when she wasn’t in her typical heels, and she had to rise to her tip-toes to kiss him.

“Go kill it,”she said against his lips. “You’ve earned this.”

He brushed his nose against hers in response, an affectionate gesture that still made butterflies dance in Nesta’s stomach every time. 

She could tell that Cash was fighting with the urge to offer her one final out on the evening’s festivities, but she was grateful when he chose to simply kiss her instead.

“Have fun with the boys,” he said. “I shouldn’t be more than an hour or two behind you.”

“Take you time,” she said firmly. “From everything you’ve shared, I don’t see Rhysand ending the party anytime before daybreak.”

“How very terrifying and true,” he said, eyes full of all the things still left unsaid as he grabbed his phone, blew her a kiss, and jogged down the stairs to the front door. 

Nesta felt some of the fight go out of her as she listened to the door open and shut, the telltale chime of the security system being re-armed echoing up a second later.

The plan to have Azriel meet them at the townhouse for drinks prior to joining up with Rhys and the rest of their cabal had been made before Cash had known he’d be entertaining the Dom execs, and though Nesta had been adamant that they needn’t change the plan simply because Cash wouldn’t be there, she couldn’t help but wonder at her own stubbornness as she waited nervously for Azriel to arrive.

On the one hand, Nesta’s initial interaction with Azriel had been entirely pleasant, and had left her with an adequate degree of certainty that—despite the Owen debacle—she and Az could get on just fine without Cash present to act as a buffer. 

However, Mor’s assessment earlier had challenged any confidence Nesta may have had when it came to Cash’s friends. Perhaps she’d been arrogant to think that Rhys and Aelin were the only one she had to be worried about winning over tonight, even with Mor temporarily out of the picture. After all, Rhys may have been Mor’s cousin, but it was clear to Nesta that Azriel and Mor had some kind of history.

Cash had never fully explained what—if anything—had gone down between them, but Nesta had always gotten the sense from his stories that Azriel had carried a torch for Mor at some point. It was only just occurring to Nesta that he very well still could. Perhaps all of Azriel’s seemingly meaningless flings were just a distraction from the girl he wanted but couldn’t have. 

And even if he didn’t have romantic feelings for her, it was clear that Mor’s opinion was incredibly important to Azriel.

What was it that Cash had said earlier?

 He’s never going to be able to open up enough to meet someone when he’s terrified you won’t approve of anyone he picks. 

If Mor voiced her concerns about Nesta to Cash, it was entirely possible (and indeed fairly probable) that she’d shared the same—or worse—with Azriel. And even if she hadn’t, what was to say that he hadn’t come to his own unfavorable conclusion about Nesta after the Vegas trip? She could only imagine what he’d heard and seen that weekend, and frankly she couldn’t blame him if he’d decided that he hated her, too.

Nesta’s heart rate kicked up as she considered the increasingly-grim possibilities. Perhaps she’d been too quick to reject Cash’s offer to send Azriel ahead. If she hadn’t—

Nesta’s phone chimed to signal a notification, and she’d been so deeply engrossed in her catastrophizing that the sound startled an undignified shriek out of her. Pressing a hand to her chest in an attempt to slow her hammering heart, she glanced down to see an alert from the Ring app signaling someone was at the door. 

Having no time left with which to ponder her potential evisceration, Nesta simply exhaled a steadying breath before heading down the stairs and disarming the security system.

Nesta felt some of her initial apprehension melt away as she pulled open the door to find that—far from the anger or aloofness she’d feared—Azriel was actually smiling, a modest bouquet of tulips tucked under one arm.

Much like the first time Nesta had met him, Azriel was in all black, from his silk bomber jacket to the well-tailored Japanese denim he wore, his designer boots—Prada, if Nesta had to guess—shined to perfection.

“For you,” Azriel said in greeting, extending the flowers, already neatly trimmed and arranged in a stylish vase, before flashing another soft smile. “I would normally have just brought a bottle of wine, but given what Cash has told me about your incredible palette, I didn’t want to embarrass myself by bringing something terrible.”

“These are lovely,” Nesta assured him. “Please, come in.”

Azriel gave a polite nod and stepped past her, waiting as she re-armed the door before following her up the stairs to the main living space. She thought to offer him a tour before remembering he’d already seen the place when Cash first moved in with her, so instead she opted for what she hoped was amiable silence as she set down the flowers on the island.

“Can I get you something to drink?” She asked, turning to the fridge in an effort to mask her unease. 

Despite Azriel’s warm greeting and the flowers he’d brought, Nesta felt her nerves lingering. However, not wanting to dwell on the stakes, she simply forged on.

“I have water, wine, beer, some of those disgusting hard seltzers....”

When Azriel still didn’t reply, she glanced up to see wry amusement sparkling in his eyes, brows slightly raised.

“I have two college-age sisters,” she explained. “Feyre in particular has terrible taste in beverages.”

Azriel huffed a polite laugh, though the slight flush in his cheeks told Nesta he’d been perhaps warned off making any comment about the youngest Archeron, even if it was friendly.

Smart man.

Instead he said, “If I asked for a shot of tequila, would you join me?”

Nesta smiled, retreating to the liquor cabinet and fetching a bottle of reposado and two rocks glasses. 

“I should have known,” she said, pouring the golden liquor into both glasses before raising one to him in a toast. “Cash said you’d be the one to watch out for; the knife in the dark.”

At this Azriel laughed outright, his impeccably straight teeth on display as he raised his own glass. It was a deep, rich sound, made all the more satisfying by the knowledge that it had been earned. 

“I’ve been to this club before,” he explained. “Trust me when I say it’s not a place you want to go sober.”

It surprised Nesta a little that Azriel—for whom a weekend in Ibiza had been a self-professed torture—was nevertheless familiar with some gaudy nightclub in a city almost 400 miles away from his own. 

She opened her mouth to say as much before remembering Cash’s sly remarks about Azriel’s dating life. It seemed a reasonable bet that the last time that Azriel had gone to Divinity, it hadn’t been for the shitty music or overpriced cocktails. 

Still, that wasn’t any of Nesta’s business, so she instead replied, “I will drink to that,” tapping his glass and throwing the shot back. It didn’t burn the way the cheap tequila she’d always drank in college had, instead warming her belly as it settled in her stomach. 

She poured them each a second measure of tequila—this one for sipping on—and gestured Azriel take a seat on one of the barstools studded around the large granite island. 

There was a measure of surprisingly comfortable silence as they both took a sip of their refreshed drinks, and Nesta cast around for something polite for them to talk about before the moment stretched too long. 

Nesta hadn’t forgotten the comments both Cash and Azriel himself had made about Azriel’s family, but unsure of where else to begin, she began carefully, “Cash mentioned you met in London. Are you from the UK originally?”

He didn’t have an accent, but that didn’t mean much. Perhaps he’d trained himself out of it as a means of transformation. If there was one thing that Nesta felt certain of in regards to Azriel Macar, it was that the man who stood before her today—hair impeccably styled and clothes tailored to perfection—was a facade crafted with the same artistry which had made him so successful as a designer. 

The real Azriel, Nesta sensed, was hidden somewhere beneath all the trappings of wealth and success, and for a reason she couldn’t fathom, the idea he felt the need to keep himself disguised made Nesta’s chest ache a bit. 

Azriel huffed a quiet, humorless laugh at the question, and Nesta wondered if—however innocuous—it had been the wrong one to ask. However, after another small sip of his drink, Azriel met her gaze, expression steady but guarded. 

“Hardly,” he said before glancing back down into his glass. “I grew up in Oklahoma.”

It had been the last thing Nesta had expected, and her struggle to master herself earned a laugh from Azriel, this one slightly easier. 

“You seem surprised,” he mused.

“I’m sorry,” she said, cheeks flushing a little. “I—”

“Don’t be,” Azriel said. “I’d have been offended if you hadn’t been. It’s a Hellhole.” He gave another humorless laugh. “Which is ironic considering churches practically outnumbered people in the town I grew up in.”

Not wanting to offend him by saying the wrong thing, Nesta settled for what felt like the safest option.

“I’ve never been to Oklahoma,” she offered. “The closest I’ve come is Dallas, and I can’t say I’m a huge fan of that, either.”

“Oh agreed,” Azriel said. “Though I wouldn’t say that in front of Rhys; you’ll break his bougie black heart. He loves Dallas.”

“For some reason that doesn’t surprise me,” Nesta admitted, and Azriel smiled.

“Then you’re a quick study.”

They fell into another comfortable silence as Nesta turned the comment over and over in his mind, debating the merits of voicing the question dangling on the tip of her tongue. The potential for blowback if she overstepped remained a clear and present danger, but Azriel’s relaxed demeanor emboldened her to take the risk.

“So…Rhysand,” she began, trying to keep her tone casual rather than anxious or over-eager. “Any tips?”

Azriel paused at this, his glass halfway to his mouth as he raised his eyebrows. Not as if he were offended by the question, but rather to indicate he hadn’t been expecting it. 

He took a sip of his drink in lieu of giving an immediate answer. Nesta wasn’t sure what to make of this stall tactic, but she resisted the urge to fill the silence, waiting instead for him to speak.

Finally he said, “Rhys is like skiing. Easy to learn but difficult to master. When I first met him, it took me all of ten minutes to decide I had him all figured out and that I fucking hated him. Now we’ve been best friends for almost five years, and he still finds ways to surprise the hell out of me on a regular basis. Still, chances are that even if you don’t want to like him, you still will. He’s inevitable in that way.”

“And what about the people he doesn’t like?” She asked carefully.

Azriel’s smile had grown soft and slightly more elusive, but he answered gamely, “I don’t think Rhys has ever met a female he didn’t like.” 

She didn’t know why she said it, but Nesta found herself blurting, “first time for everything, I suppose.”

It was more vulnerability than she’d wanted to show, and seeing the smile slip from Azriel’s face, she knew at once she’d said the wrong thing.

However, he didn’t immediately clap back like she feared he would, instead seeming almost...concerned.

“I know we don’t know each other that well,” he said after a beat, “but can I be...honest for a second?”

“Please,” Nesta said, despite the fact she wasn’t at all sure she was ready for whatever it was he had to say.

“I assume this has to do with Mor.”

It wasn’t a question, but it certainly answered any doubt Nesta had over whether Mor had voiced her dislike to the rest of the group.

“What makes you say that?” Nesta said, annoyed at herself for the tartness which had slid into her voice.

However, if her curt tone bothered Azriel, he didn’t show it. Instead he merely nodded, seeming to weigh his next statement before continuing on.

“I usually try to stay out of the inter-group politicking because there are enough busy-bodies in this crew as it is, but I will say this: Mor is entitled to her opinion; don’t make the mistake of assuming it’s an opinion that everyone shares.” 

“I wouldn’t blame you or Rhysand if you didn’t like me,” she admitted, fighting the urge to grow defensive in her vulnerability.

Azriel only shrugged. 

“Like I said, it’s not my style to insert myself into other people’s business, but…” 

He paused for a second to meet her eye before quietly adding, “I saw what was done to that bookcase, Nesta. Mor didn’t.”

Nesta felt a lump swelling in her throat at the memory, Tomás’s screaming still echoing faintly in her ears.

“That’s probably more grace than I deserve, but thank you.”

Azriel nodded again, looking down into the swirling remains of his drink before adding, “And for what it’s worth, you should know that Cash has never said one ugly thing about you, even in Vegas. He had every opportunity to tear you to pieces that weekend, and he never did.”

“I think that says more about his character than mine,” Nesta admitted, “But I can’t deny it’s a relief to hear.”

“Cash may seem carefree, but I don’t think I need to tell you that everything he does, he does with intention. That includes the company he chooses to keep.”

There was a finality to the way Azriel said it, as if he’d finally exceeded his limit for getting mixed up in his friends’ personal lives and was hoping to change the subject. 

Nesta rewarded his tacit request by refilling both their glasses and saying, “So, as two people who don’t like clubs, any idea what we can expect from tonight?”

“A bloody nightmare,” Azriel said half under his breath, accepting his glass back from her and taking a healthy drink. “Rhys promised we wouldn’t have to be there all night, so I’m praying he can accomplish whatever required schmoozing quickly so we can fuck off to somewhere slightly less atrocious.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Nesta said, raising her glass in salutation and taking a generous swig.

The conversation flowed fairly effortlessly after that, shifting from the friend group to Azriel’s work. He’d seemed hesitant to discuss it at first, as if he were afraid he might bore her if he talked about himself or his own interests for more than a sentence or two. However, once she’d coaxed him into opening up slightly, no doubt aided in her effort by the tequila, she found they had no shortage of topics to discuss. 

Beyond his own work, Azriel was a walking encyclopedia on the history of modernist architecture and design, and he was effortless in his ability to recite fascinating anecdotes about the movement’s pioneers. The way his eyes lit up as he regaled her with a story about Frank Lloyd Wright reminded Nesta of the look Elain always wore when discussing the Papal intrigue of Quattrocento Rome, and she envisioned—not for the first time—how well those two would likely get on were they to ever meet.

Nesta was surprised when she glanced at the oven clock and realized it was nearly 11:30. Azriel must have seen it too, because he drained his glass and reached for his coat.

“I’ve unfortunately exhausted all my tactics for delaying the inevitable,” Azriel said, pulling up the Uber app on his phone and showing Nesta that their driver was six minutes away. “Shall we?”

It was nearing midnight by the time they reached the white lacquered doors of Divinity, a throng of club hopefuls already beginning to amass behind the velvet rope which snaked off to the right of the entrance.

It was only then that Nesta realized they’d never been given any instruction on how or where to find the others. However, Azriel seemed to know the drill, because he skirted the line and went to the bouncer guarding the other side of the rope, presumably the entrance for VIP guests.  It didn’t take more than the words “Rhysand Sadaghi” to get them through the rope and following a hostess to what she continued to remind them was the club’s “premiere suite”. 

The farther they traveled into the space, the louder the hypnotic bass became until they were skirting the massive dance floor en route to a private balcony fashioned to look like a giant cloud suspended in mid-air. Nesta swore as she picked her way up the narrow staircase leading to the box, praying none of the smarmy-looking douchebags below would think to look up. If they did, she was fairly sure they'd have a full view up her skirt through the translucent steps. 

Finally, they reached the landing, and Nesta permitted herself one last steadying breath before accepting Azriel’s hand to clear the final stair.

The suite seemed to be divided into two chambers separated by a silk curtain. The initial space was currently unoccupied, but through the partition in the silk, Nesta spotted a single figure lounging in a plush armchair as it if were a throne, a drink balanced lazily on a knee as he surveyed the crowd below. However, she had less than a second to study him before he took notice of their arrival, his arms outstretched as his mouth split into a breath-taking grin.

Rhysand Sadeghi was gorgeous almost beyond comprehension. The picture of elegance and obscene wealth, he was as tall as Azriel and just as well-built, with glittering azure eyes and a smile bright enough to dazzle even in the semi-darkness. 

On paper his beauty was profuse to the point of revulsion—his eyes too blue, his lips too full, his cheekbones too sharp. In short, Rhysand should have been too pretty to actually be attractive. But there was something so devilishly human in the arch of his dark brows and the curve of his smile that made him, hands-down, the most handsome man Nesta had ever met. 

But not, she noted with a swell of pleasant emotion, the most attractive. Rhysand may have been physical perfection, but he would never be more beautiful to her than Cash; no man would. 

Rhysand gave a cat-like smile as he approached, straightening the lapels of his Armani suit jacket as if he were preparing to step into a business meeting. The crisp shirt beneath had the first several buttons undone, and Nesta could see the making of what was clearly a very intricate chest piece tattoo peaking above the collar, the swirling lines matching the designs which covered the backs of each of his hands.

“Nesta,” he said in greeting, tone warm as if they were old friends. “Finally. I was starting to worry that Cash was hiding you from me.”

His English accent was clipped but smooth, a clear product of his education at Eton and Oxford. 

Nesta turned to allow him to brush a kiss on her cheek. 

“So you’re the philandering rake I’ve heard so much about,” she said as they pulled away. 

It was perhaps a somewhat risky thing to say considering how badly she wanted Cash’s friends to like her, but Rhysand’s answering smile indicated he enjoyed a good verbal spar.

“And you’re even more beautiful than Cash described,” he shot back easily. “Careful, I might be tempted to steal you for myself.”

Nesta hit him with an expression Cash had affectionately termed “Disney Villainess.”

“I don’t know if I’m expected to laugh in your face, or slap you across it.”

Rhys only tipped his head back and laughed as Azriel said from behind her, “A fairly common reaction to meeting him, I’d say.”

“Drink?” Rhys asked, gesturing to the various champagne buckets scattered around the space. “What can I get you?”

He was already pouring a whiskey for Azriel before patting his friend affectionately on the cheek, a gesture which Azriel swatted away. 

“No special friend with you tonight, brother? Cash said it’s been a proper revolving door since you moved to LA!”

“Oh fuck off,” Azriel said, tone light even as his cheeks pinked. “You’re just jealous.”

“Maybe I am,” Rhys said, shooting Nesta a wink. “Champagne, Nesta?”

“Please,” she said, noting the bottle of $500 Armand de Brignac nestled in the closest chiller. Being around this level of wealth was going to take some getting used to. She seemed to sense that Rhys was waiting for her to take a sip, so she did.

“It’s lovely,” she said. “Thank you.”

Rhys grinned. 

“I’m so pleased you like it. Cash says you have a palette for wine that’s destined to put the rest of us to shame.”

Just then another dark-haired man appeared from the darkness, bending to speak quietly in Rhys's ear. Nesta noted the radio at his belt and the gun at his hip, and the way his dark eyes shone with an alacrity which told her he was stone-cold sober. 

When the man straightened up, Rhys gestured to him with a smile. 

“This is my bodyguard, Adan. Donnie, this is Cash’s better half, if you can believe that.”

“Nice to meet you,” Adan said, voice thick with a French accent. “Welcome to the court of nightmares.”

Rhys’s crushing blue eyes glittered as he laughed. 

“Nightmares? Brother, this is a court of dreams! Algerians take everything too seriously,” He added with a smile. “Relax, Don.”

Adan rolled his eyes and snapped a retort in French, though his body language suggested he wasn’t actually bothered. Rhys only laughed in response before offering a rapid reply in the same language.

“Shall we, then?” Rhys said, ushering Nesta forward while keeping his hand a respectful distance from her low back.

“Your timing is impeccable as always, Az,” Rhys said, dropping onto one of the low couches with a lazy grace before kicking his feet up on the glass table. “Even five minutes earlier and you’d have been forced to make small talk with the owner. The man’s a complete knob.”

“Sorry to have missed him,” Azriel said wryly, appraising the space with a designer’s critical eye.

Rhys seemed to note Azriel’s assessment, because he gestured to their surroundings and asked, “So, what do you think?”

Azriel’s lip curled in disgust, the most expression Nesta had ever seen him show.

“It’s fucking horrendous.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Rhys said with a grin. “Wouldn’t buy this place if it were free.”

Azriel rolled his eyes, though there was no malice in the gesture.

“If that’s true, then what are we doing here?”

“You mean besides running up an obscene tab on the ownership’s dime? We’re celebrating.”

Az simply rolled his eyes again, but Nesta shrugged. 

“I’ll bite; celebrating what?

“The successful culmination of a well-deserved revenge plot.”

“I’m officially intrigued,” Nesta said, and Rhys flashed her a bone-melting smirk.

“I thought you might be,” he replied, drawing a cigar from his inside pocket before lighting it and settling back into his seat.

“Six months ago the prick who owned this place called me wanting to see if we’d be interested in going in with his group on a joint venture for a new property they wanted to open in Miami. They’ve been wanting to break into the market but didn’t have the contacts to do it, so they were hoping I could provide leverage. I said I’d consider it, but the financials didn’t pencil so I thanked him for the offer but told him we were going to pass.” 

Rhysand paused to take a casual sip of his drink before continuing on.

“A few days later he pocket dials me. I was getting ready to hang up when I realized he happened to be talking about me to a colleague. Didn’t catch the whole conversation, but considering the fact I stayed on the line long enough to hear him refer to me as a ‘towel-headed terrorist”, I think I got the gist.”

The champagne she’d been enjoying moments earlier turned immediately sour in Nesta’s mouth. It wasn’t always easy being a woman—particularly in a chauvinistic, ego-centric industry like hers—but even with all the wayward comments and veiled jabs she’d endured over the years, she couldn’t imagine what it must feel like to be on the receiving end of that kind of ugliness. Glancing between Rhys and Azriel, she could see in their expressions the same bleakness she sometimes glimpsed on Cash’s face, a stark reminder of the realities of racism they didn’t have the privilege of ignoring. It made Nesta want to hunt this hideous prick down and bury her stiletto into his jugular.

Azriel, for his part, only gave an unamused snort, gaze going cold. “He should meet my brother Tanner. Sounds like the two of them would get along great.”

“Indeed,” Rhysand said, his own smile razored. “I won’t bore you with the gory details, but the long and short of it is that while he’s been kissing my ass the last three days thinking I’m interested in investing in this dump, my lawyers have been finalizing a deal to buy the property across the street.”

“So you can rub what an asshole he is in his face for the rest of eternity?” Azriel asked.

Rhys opened his mouth to reply, but Nesta beat him to it.

“You wanted him to open his books,” she said, reading Rhys’s cold smile. “You needed to see his balance sheet so you’d know what it would take to put this place underwater.”

He nodded, grin widening.

“Turns out that in addition to being an ignorant piece of shit, dude’s also an idiot,” Rhys said, smoke slithering through his lips as he took another drag from his cigar. “His distributor’s been fleecing him on booze. I already have a supplier lined up who’s willing to sell to me at cost, which means I will be able to charge 30% less per drink while maintaining the same margin. This place will be lucky to last six months.”

At this his crushing gaze met Nesta’s, and she couldn't decide if he was seeking her approval or illustrating the power he had to destroy people who crossed him. The fear that it had been the latter had the instinct to go on the defensive flaring, but Nesta forced the urge down, merely raising her glass to him instead. 

“All’s well that ends well, then.”

“I wouldn’t start gloating just yet,” Azriel said. “It’s gonna take more than cheaper drinks to thin this herd.”

He gestured to the packed throng of revelers below.

Rhys remained unruffled.

“True, but when have you ever known me to not hedge my bets?”

“Let me guess: you’ve convinced some Kardashian sibling to come on opening weekend and lie to their billion followers about how great it is.”

“Kardashians? You’ve got to learn to dream bigger, Azzy!”

“We’re not going to play twenty questions with you about it,” Azriel shot back mildly. “So either tell us what you’ve got up your sleeve or I’m changing the subject. Cash won’t thank you for boring Nesta to death within the first twenty minutes.”

Rhys laughed, undimmed by Azriel’s slightly-acerbic wit. It made Nesta like Rhysand slightly more than she otherwise might have, knowing that his wasn't the sort of ego that was so large it had grown inflexible.

“Conn agreed to a two-week residency when the place opens,” Rhys explained instead. “ People are going to forget this joint even exists when they find out he’s performing at such an intimate venue.”

Azriel gave an appreciative chuckle, clearly understanding who that was and what it meant. Nesta, on the other hand, didn’t have the slightest clue. 

Part of her didn’t want to give Rhysand the satisfaction of asking in the event he’d only brought it up as a means of making her feel foolish for not knowing. However, a glance up at him showed that the chilly gleam in his eye from earlier had softened to pure amusement, and she decided to play nice by saying, “I admit I don’t frequent enough clubs to know what that means.”

“If we said the name ConMan, would that mean anything to you?” Azriel asked.

Actually it did. ConMan’s signature was blending classical movements by Mozart and Bach with modern electronic music, and though Nesta wasn’t usually one for house or EDM, she admittedly had more than one ConMan track on her gym playlist.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re friends with one of the most famous DJs in the world,” she said to Rhysand, and he laughed again

“Actually I met him through Cash. They grew up together in Hawai’i.”

Now it was Nesta who wanted to laugh. In all the stories Cash had told about his childhood friends, including the twins—Fen and Connall0—he’d failed to mention that one of them happened to have a Vegas residency. She loved that about him, that he wasn’t one to drop names or lord his impressive friends over her.

“I don’t know how you feel about house music,” Rhys continued, “But you should come see him spin. He’s incredible on stage. Watching him perform, you’d never guess what a massive homebody he actually is.”

“I don’t know how he does it,” Azriel added, the whiskey stones in his drink clinking as he rotated the contents with a practiced flick of his wrist. “If I were Connall, I would have faked my own death years ago.”

“I do love that the two biggest introverts I know both ended up being famous,” Rhys said with a grin.

Azriel rolled his eyes.

“I am not famous.”

Rhys only bubbled his lips.

“Bruv, you were featured in Vogue. Give it up already.”

Recognizing that Azriel was currently her closest ally in the fight to win over Cash’s friends, Nesta decided to throw him a bone and redirect the spotlight by asking, “How well do you two know the Hawai’i boys? They seem like a fun bunch.”

“Nah, they're all assholes,” a voice echoed from beyond the gauzy curtain.

They all turned at the intrusion, Rhys whistling appreciatively and rising to his feet as Rowan Whitethorn cleared the last of the stairs and emerged into the lounge.

“There he is,” Rhys said. “Nice hair, brother!” 

Rowan grinned as he ran a tattooed hand through the grey strands, which gleamed silver under the club’s sleek lights.

Rhys was right; it was quite different than Nesta had ever remembered it looking. Though he still wore it in an undercut, the sides were now almost to the skin and the top longer and more ostentatiously styled, making him look less clean-cut and more...dangerous.

Nesta didn’t have to wonder too long at the change. When she’d asked Cash why he  hadn’t been seeing as much of Rowan—worried that he was still avoiding his friends because of her—Cash had made a vague remark about Ro’s current caseload requiring him to work extra hours. Seeing Rowan now, she suspected that ‘extra hours’ had actually been a euphemism for working undercover. 

Rowan only smirked at Rhys’s assessment, their vibe easier than Nesta might have imagined. But then, that was the magic of Cash; he could bring anyone together.

“I’m trying something new,” Ro offered coyly.

“I like it,” Rhys said. 

Rowan's smile grew a little, green eyes flicking up to Rhys’s own dark hair, which was styled in a similar manner.

“I bet you do.”

“I can’t resist a bit of drama,” Rhys admitted before glancing behind Rowan. “No Ace tonight?”

Rowan's face fell slightly even as he accepted a drink from Rhys and smiled at Nesta and Azriel in greeting. 

“She and NeNe were playing in a tournament in Latvia until yesterday, and her flight out of Riga got canceled because of staffing shortages with the airlines. Don’t get me started.”

For her part, Nesta couldn’t decide if she should be disappointed or relieved. She hadn’t been lying all those months ago when she’d told Cash she liked Aelin already. But after Mor...Nesta wasn’t sure how much hope she could realistically harbor that Aelin would ever like her back. 

She was saved from her self-improvised spiral by Rowan, who’d finished greeting Azriel and turned his full attention on her.

“Nesta,” he said, brushing a soft kiss on her cheek the same way Rhys had. “Good to see you.”

His smile was full of meaning, and she found herself flushing a little.

“You don’t seem...surprised. To see me.”

Didn’t seem disappointed, she didn’t need to say. She could see in his eyes that he knew what she meant, and the way they softened at the corners told her that he was genuinely glad she was with Cash, even after all her mistakes.

“Can’t say I am,” he said, accepting a whiskey from Rhys with a nod. “I had faith you two would...figure it out when you were ready.”

“I’m sorry Aelin’s not here,” Nesta said, hesitating for only a second before admitting, “I was looking forward to finally getting to meet her.”

“She’s gutted to have missed it,” Rowan said. “If there was any way she could have been here, she would have.”

Rhys and Az traded a furtive glance at this, but before Nesta could worry at what it might mean, Rowan flashed a soft smile, the sincerity in it putting her at ease.

“It really is a shame she’s not here,” Rhys said as they resettled. “I like to think she would have really appreciated the unholy douchbaggery of this place.”

“That’s because she’s a godless hedonist,” Rowan said, expression neutral but tone full of affection. “Why do you think she likes hanging out with you so much?”

“You’re just lucky you met her first,” Rhys shot back easily.

Remembering how Rowan had reacted when Eris had dared to make a comment about Aelin, Nesta half expected Rowan to clap back. Instead, he only grinned, clearly at-ease with this dynamic.

“Please,” he said, taking another sip of his drink. “You two would tear each other apart.”

“Agreed,” Azriel said mildly. “She’d have your sensitive little ass in tears the first time you got into a disagreement.”

“Fuck you both,” Rhys said, grinning now too. 

Friends, Nesta realized. These three, despite all their perceived differences, were genuinely friends in their own right, even when Cash wasn’t around.

“Honestly, Sadeghi,” Rowan said, “I can’t wait to meet the girl you end up with. She's going to need the patience of a saint to deal with your…”

Rowan trailed off, head cocking towards the new song currently building in the space below. Nesta didn’t recognize it, but it was hypnotic and dark, admittedly a lot better than the manic-tempo shit they’d previously been playing.

Rowan remained on alert, listening intently, and finally Nesta asked, “Is everything alright?” 

“This is Ace and NeNe’s warmup track,”Rowan said, seeming almost dazed. “Connall made it for them specifically after Aelin complained women's sports don’t get the same pre-game hype.”

“How annoyingly true,” Rhys said with an almost-theatrical frown.

Despite his disapproving words, Nesta didn’t miss the undercurrent of self-satisfaction in Rhys’s tone.  Rowan clearly hadn’t missed it either, because his head instead snapped back to Rhys, his expression caught between confusion and excitement.

“Is this you?” He said, gesturing to the speakers.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Rhys said, blue eyes glittering with delight.

Rhys’s reaction, despite meaning absolutely nothing to Nesta, seemed to confirm something for Rowan, and he leapt to his feet.

“No way,” he said, a smile growing on his face now. “Even you couldn’t pull something like that off.”

Rhys pretended to buff his nails on his lapel.

“Couldn’t I, though?” He said with exaggerated self-importance before gesturing to the dance floor below with his eyes.

Rowan leapt up, running to the balcony to peer over it. Still unsure of what the fuck was going on, Nesta followed, reaching the balcony just as the beat dropped, everyone in the crowd seeming to pulse in time with the music. 

That was, everyone but three people, who were instead cutting a distinct path away from the stage and towards the roped-off stairs.

Even if Nesta had not recognized the gorgeous blonde leading the trio, Rowan’s reaction to seeing her would have been enough to tell her who it was.

Rowan was in motion at once, abandoning his drink on the nearby table and taking the stairs two at a time. He ignored the belch of fake fog which exploded around him as his foot reached the last stair, because by that time the blonde had noticed him as well, and in two long strides she was in his arms, the hem of her tight dress riding dangerously high as she wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him.

“Nice work, brother,” Azriel said, extending his knuckles to a preening Rhysand. “Wasn’t sure you were going to be able to pull it off.”

By now Rowan and Aelin had finished their steamy reunion and were heading back up the stairs, Aelin tucked comfortably under Rowan’s muscled arm as they continued to grin at one another.

Finally Rowan turned back to Rhys, laughing a little.

“You sneaky bastard! All those questions about Ace not being here when you knew full well she was already on her way!”

“You know Aelin tears are my kryptonite,” Rhys said, winking at a beaming Aelin. “When she called me crying earlier saying her flight had been canceled, how could I leave her stranded, especially when I knew my father’s jet was sitting idle in London?”

It was then that Rhys finally came into greater focus for Nesta. If Cash was the group’s unifying thread, weaving all the disparate personalities into a single, tight-knit clan, then Rhys was its magic wand, trailing sparks through the air and achieving the seemingly impossible with a flick of the wrist. 

It would have been easy to attribute it to his extreme wealth, but watching him now, Nesta could see it was more than that. Yes, money had a way of making big problems seem small, but the finesse with which Rhys handled roadblocks told her that he was neither as frivolous nor as rash as he liked to pretend.

And he hadn’t just done it to prove he could, Nesta realized. He’d done it knowing what even one extra day together would mean for Aelin and Rowan, and so that Aelin wouldn’t have to miss out on this rare opportunity for them to spend time together as a group. It was clear watching them interact how much they all meant to one another, and how much they cherished any time they got to spend in one another’s company. More than friends, it was clear this group was more like a second family, even scattered as they were across the globe. And it was all because of Cash.

Nesta watched the joyous reunion unfold without comment, feeling so caught up in the moment that she’d nearly forgotten her own outsider status. It wasn’t until Aelin finished greeting the others that Nesta remembered herself at last, the same anxieties which had plagued her all week swelling with renewed urgency.

A quick glance over Aelin’s shoulder revealed wary expressions on both Rhys and Rowan’s faces, as if they too weren’t sure how this meeting would play out. 

It was only when Aelin’s stunning blue eyes fell on Nesta that the latter realized how badly she wanted this woman to like her, despite all the legitimate reasons Aelin—like Mor—had to dislike her.

To aate her even.

It was too late for all of that though, as Aelin was making her way over, her slinky gown glittering like molten gold under the lights. Nesta guessed that even barefoot Aelin must have been over six feet, but she towered close to Rowan’s height in her spindly heels, making Nesta feel positively minuscule in comparison. 

Still, she did her best to steel her nerves, unsure whether to extend her hand as she forced herself to meet Aelin’s gaze and say, “I’m Nesta.”

“I know,” Aelin said, not extending her hand either.

Unease sluiced through Nesta as she tried to decipher Aelin’s tone. However, before she could worry about what to do next, Aelin continued.

“I know we don’t really know each other, but…” she paused, glancing over her shoulder at Rowan before turning back to Nesta and continuing,  “Can I hug you?”

It wasn’t what Nesta had expected, but she nodded, extending her own arms with a slightly-strangled, “of course.”

Aelin pushed forward at once, pulling Nesta to her as if they’d been friends all their lives. It wasn’t the overly-tight embrace Nesta had feared, and she found herself immediately inundated by the fresh citrus scent of Aelin’s perfume.

When they pulled back, Nesta found Aelin smiling at her, no calculation or contempt on her face.

“I want to thank you again for what you did for Nehemiah,” she continued. “We were in a proper panic until you stepped in.”

“I was happy to help,” Nesta said, grateful for the warmth in Aelin’s tone, even if she wasn’t sure she deserved it. “I’m just glad it worked out.”

“It did. Thanks to you,” Aelin said, tone full of meaning. 

Nesta nodded and made to step away, terrified she might ruin the moment by saying the wrong thing. However, Aelin reached forward to grab her hand, giving a soft squeeze as she leaned forward, voice pitched low as she said, “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” Nesta admitted, pausing before adding, “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you for a long time.”

“Me too,” Aelin said with a smile. “We all have.”

Nesta could barely contain what those words did to her—how they soothed all the jagged self-loathing she’d harbored over the last several months. Aelin seemed to read the lingering pain on Nesta’s face, because her own smile dimmed slightly.

“She’ll come around,” Aelin said simply. “Just give her time.”

Nesta didn’t need to ask who Aelin was referring to, but she nodded, grateful beyond measure for Aelin’s kindness.

Not wanting to monopolize Aelin’s attention, she turned back to the rest of the group, which now included two more men she didn’t know. 

Though they’d yet to be introduced, it was clear from their piercing blue eyes who they were. 

The Ashryvvers, Aelin’s maternal cousins.

The blonde was the first to notice Nesta, and his answering smile was deceptively mild as he nodded to her in greeting before leaning over to his cousin and whispering—perhaps a bit louder than he’d intended, “Ella está buena.”

Despite her parents’ insistence, Nesta’s Spanish had never been nearly as good as her Portuguese. However, it was certainly good enough to understand when a man was checking her out.

Flustered, Nesta tried to keep her expression neutral. It wasn’t that she was offended; she just wasn’t sure how to proceed without embarrassing Aelin’s cousin and possibly offending Aelin herself in the process.

Fortunately for Nesta, it seemed that Aelin had also overheard what had been said, and she reacted with no hesitation.

Quick as an adder, she slapped the blonde soundly upside the head and hissed, “That’s Cash’s girlfriend, you ignorant doorknob!” before flipping into smooth, clipped Spanish and adding, “Y ella habla portugués; puede entenderte. Sorry,” she said, turning back to Nesta with an apologetic smile. “You’d honestly think these two were raised in a barn. These are my cousins, Aedion and Galen.”

“Why am I being scolded?” Galen, the darker-hair one, asked. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it,” Aelin sniffed at him. “So you’re just as bad.”

Galen rolled his eyes in defeat and turned to make himself a drink, but Aedion only grinned, seemingly unruffled by Aelin’s rebuke as he extended his hand to Nesta.

“Lovely to meet you,” he said. “Cash is a lucky man.”

“Knock it off,” Aelin said, pushing his hand aside as she steered Nesta away. “She’s probably gotten enough of that from Rhys already.”

“Me?” Rhys said, laughing. “What did I do?”

“Plenty, I’m sure,” Aelin said, blowing him a kiss. “Besides, I thought you saved the worst of your shameless flirting for me!”

“Don’t encourage him,” Rowan said.

“Don’t get possessive,” Aelin lobbed back, flashing him a tarty smile over her shoulder. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you.”

“God, I’ve missed you,” Rhys said, grinning appreciatively at her.

“Then move to California already,” Aelin said, pouring herself a glass of champagne before topping off Nesta’s glass as well. “Then you can annoy Ro to your heart’s delight.”

“It’s tempting,” Rhys admitted. “But I wouldn’t want to encroach on Az’s hunting grounds.”

Azriel, who Nesta expected to clap back the way he usually did when someone brought up his love life, simply raised his glass in answer.

“Be my guest. You and I have very different taste in women.”

It was a testament, Nesta decided, to how comfortable Aelin’s arrival had made her, that she actually debated actually asking Azriel what his type might be. However, after a moment of consideration she decided not to push the issue, if only for fear of upsetting the delicate but promising balance she’d struck within the group.

She thought of how it had felt watching Cash meshing with her own friends, and she hoped he would be similarly pleased when he saw how easily she’d seemed to find her way with his. Because they’d all gone out of their way to accept her, even after what she’d put Cash through. Being here with them, it became dangerously easy, in fact, to imagine what a future amongst these people might look like for her. 

Before tonight, Nesta had been apprehensive to plan too far ahead where she and Cash were concerned, afraid to get her hopes up while things with his friends remained so much in the air. Hard as it had been, Nesta had promised herself when they’d started dating that she would never let herself come between Cash and the people who were most important to him, even if it someday meant making the difficult decision of letting him go so he wouldn’t be forced to choose.

She supposed she’d never forgiven herself enough to actually imagine they might accept her the same way Cash had. Sitting amongst them now, listening to them talk and laugh as if they didn’t all know how selfish and broken she’d been, her heart felt full in a way even she didn’t have words for.

“Boo, we’re out of champagne!” Aelin said, pulling Nesta from her reverie as she shook the empty bottle upside down and pouted in Rhys’s direction. “Please tell me we don’t have to flirt with the horrible owner to get more.”

“No champagne?” a familiar voice called, sending Nesta’s heart soaring into her throat. “What kind of shit party is this?”

Nesta leapt up in time to see Cash emerging from behind the gauzy curtain, a huge smile on his face. A cheer went up at his appearance, but he only had eyes for Nesta, stringing an arm around her waist as she approached and pulling her close.

“Miss me?” He asked, brushing his nose against hers as he grinned.

“A little,” she said, stroking a hand down his cheek. 

Before she could ask how the dinner went, Rhys interrupted with a laughing groan.

“Guess I’m going to have to order the expensive stuff, now that Kahukore is here.”

“No need,” Cash said, pulling a bottle from behind his back. “I brought my own.”

Nesta recognized the crest-shaped label and laughed.

“You got it?”

Cash grinned.

“They offered me the job on the spot. I fly to Paris next week to sign the papers. Here Sadeghi, this shit is bougie enough to get even your spoiled ass excited. Dom P3 Plentinude Brut, a gift from the personal wine cellar of Dom’s COO.”

“This beauty spends 20 years aging on its lees, and you want to share it with these animals?” Rhys asked.

“Good point,” Cash said. “We better open before I change my mind.”

Divesting the bottle of its cage with practiced ease, Cash held his thumb to the cork to keep it from accidentally popping off before offering the bottle to Nesta.

“Will you do the honors?”

She gently pushed the bottle back towards him.

“You’re better at it than I am,” she said.

“True,” he said, grin widening as she bared her teeth at him. “But I wouldn’t have gotten this job if you hadn’t pushed me to apply, so this one’s all you.”

“Nes-ta! Nes-ta! Nes-ta!” Aelin chanted, the others joining in until Nesta finally accepted the bottle from Cash, applying pressure to the cork before it finally came loose with an expert kiss of sound.

They all cheered again, Cash pouring a measure into the fresh glasses Rhys had produced before raising his own, Nesta still tucked comfortably into his side.

“Oscar Wilde once wrote, ‘pleasure without champagne is purely artificial.’ Since I’m not one to argue with the greats, I’ll simply say, here’s to genuine pleasure, friends!”

Another cheer went up as they all clinked glasses and took a sip, Nesta nearly moaning as it hit her tongue. It was even better than the bottle of Armand de Brignac they’d opened after Nesta’s trial, every carefully-cultivated flavor dialed to 11 by the lengthy aging process.

“What do you think?” Cash said quietly, studying her reaction with delight.

“Perfection.”

“Just like you, then,” he shot back easily.

Instead of sniping back like she normally would have, she merely smiled, leaning up to kiss him.

“I’m so proud of you,” she said quietly.

“Thank you,” he said. “For making me go tonight. It would have been a mistake not to.”

“No thanks necessary,”  she replied firmly. “Since there was no way I was going to let you miss it.”

“Things have been going...well here, I take it?”

She took a minute to compose herself, glancing down into her glass before meeting his eye again.

“The only thing that would have made it better would have been if you’d been here.”

He studied her face, seeming to relax as he read the calm contentment on hers.

“I’ve told you a million times; to know you is to love you, Nesta Archeron. Anyone who refuses to see that is truly blind.”

Nesta's heart stuttered a bit at that, both at the compliment and the reminder that there was still work to do when it came to repairing all the damage that had been done. Still, that was a problem for another day. Tonight, they were celebrating. 

xx 

It was Nesta’s phone which woke her the following morning, the annoyingly-bright chime alerting her there was someone at their front door. She turned over to wake Cash, intent on making him fetch whatever package had been dropped off so she could continue sleeping.

She was fairly certain she was going to be hungover for the next month after the bender they’d embarked on the night before, and she didn’t plan to get out of bed until she had to leave for work on Monday. Maybe not even then.

Blindly reaching for him, she found his side of the bed cool, and when she’d gathered the strength to open her eyes, she swore to find a note instead of the mass of naked man she’d been expecting.

Gone to the gym with Ro to sweat out the demons. Take the Advil I left you. <;3 

She swore again at realizing he wasn’t there, and a third time for good measure when the doorbell chimed again.

“Just leave whatever it is and go!” She yelled, even knowing there wasn’t a chance in hell the delivery person could actually hear her.

When the door chimed a third time, Nesta groaned and hauled herself to her feet, slugging down the Advil and nearly falling down the stairs in her attempt to reach the front door. 

Dredging up whatever decorum she could muster, she smoothed her rumpled hair and fought down the urge to snap at the overeager UPS driver who’d thought it was appropriate to ring the doorbell three times on a Saturday morn—

Nesta felt herself go pale as she wrenched open the door to find that it wasn’t a delivery at all. It was Mor, looking fresh as a daisy and distressingly composed when compared to what Nesta was sure she must have looked like. 

A beat of horrifyingly awkward silence reigned before Nesta regained her wits enough to say, “I’m sorry, Cash isn’t home right now.”

“Actually,” Mor said, “I came to see you.”

The panic must have shown somewhat on Nesta’s face, because before she could manage a reply, Mor pressed on.

“I would have been here sooner, but apparently Rhys lent the jet to Aelin, so I had to fly commercial.”

When Nesta still didn’t reply, Mor shifted slightly, the first sign of discomfort she’d allowed to show.

“I know it’s early for a social call, but I thought—would you like to come to breakfast? I know a great place in Portrero Hill. My treat, of course.”

Nesta, for all her usual composure and aplomb, remained speechless. When she finally opened her mouth, the only thing that came out was “Why?”

“I was hoping we could...talk,” Mor said. When Nesta made no move to reply, Mor continued, “I wanted to apologize for yesterday, and for us to hopefully...start over.”

After another hideous beat of silence Mor seemed to relent, nodding as she stepped back, gaze falling to her feet.

“But I understand if now is not a good time. I’ll just let you get back to—“

“No,” Nesta said finally, making up her mind. If Cash could forgive her for the mistakes she’d made and allow her to move on from them, the least she owed him was to offer Mor the same chance. “I’d like that. I just need to—” she glanced down at herself. “I could be ready in twenty minutes, if that works.”

“Yes!” Mor said, eyes lighting up. “Take your time, I’ll come back in an hour.”

Mor was already heading for the stairs, and Nesta considered the courage it had taken to extend this olive branch before deciding to extend one of her own.

“Would you like to wait here instead? I can make coffee.”

Mor’s smile went from edged hopefulness to soft relief.

“I’d love that.”

@that-golden-lyre @aspidenchantress @annedub @so-chill-mochill @verypaleninja @bookofmaas @katexrenee@mightymorphingayagenda @tswaney17 @keshavomit @subhuman-queer @123moiaussi @b00kworm @sezkins79 @marnz @wesupremeginger @toallthefandomsivelovedbefore @rhysanoodle @actuallyacotartrash @empress-ofbloodshed-writing @superspiritfestival @donnarosemary @regolithheart @kingdomofbrokenhearts @mariamuses @verifiefangirl-mainblog @awesomethreedragons @awesomelena555 @kayak34

[acourtofquestions]

Rhys is just Aelin without the fire & with the wings

[snelbz]

The Holiday {2}

Ships: Nesta x Cassian / Aelin x Rowan

Written alongside @theladyofdeath.

Trope(s): Christmas, fluff, love at first sight, enemies to lovers

Summary: Nesta has just been dumped. Aelin hates her job. Both women need an escape from reality and with Christmas quickly approaching, it's the perfect time for a getaway. After discovering a trend where people can swap houses for a non-traditional vacation experience, these two women decide to spend the holidays in each other's homes. With their houses comes a series of unique experiences and a couple of handsome suitors. It's time to see just how much a change of scenery and two weeks of Christmas solitude and romance can change a person.

A/N: It's December, which means the holiday season has officially begun! This one has been a blast to write, we never write such fluffy stuff. We hope y'all are enjoying it, too!

Rating: M for mature - language, smut, substance use, etc. 18+.

Inspired by The Holiday (2006).

The hour-long Uber ride was not what Aelin was expecting when she got off the plane at nearly ten o’clock at night, but it was sure as hell what she got. Her driver, a blessedly quiet man named Ilias, asked her what kind of music she liked, found a Pandora station dedicated to it, and they were off. After traveling all day, she knew there was no reason to be as exhausted as she was, but keeping her eyes open was proving to be a challenge as he left Orynth proper and drove up into the mountains.

Thankfully, just as she thought she would really doze off, the car came to a stop. A blast of cold hit her as he got out and popped open the back hatch.

It was frigid in Orynth, a different kind of cold than she was used to in Velaris.

After unloading her suitcase and ensuring she had both her purse and backpack, Ilias bade her farewell, backed out of the drive and headed down the long, single-lane road that curved along the mountain. They’d passed another cabin coming up and she knew more were likely farther up, but all she could focus on was the one before her.

Pulling her phone out of her back pocket, she checked the screenshot of the information Nesta had sent her. She’d warned there could be spotty cell service the farther into the mountains you went and she hadn’t been wrong. Thanks to the wifi password she’d already memorized, she knew she wouldn’t be without TikTok or Facebook for long.

After locating the key under a bucket in the front porch, Aelin unlocked the door and walked in.

Only to immediately shiver.

“By the Wyrd, how is it colder in here than it is out there?” Aelin murmured, snagging her bags from the porch and pulling them in. She closed the door, walking deeper into the cottage.

“Cozy mountain cottage, my ass,” she muttered, walking around the living room, looking for the small pad on the wall to control the central heating.

After searching for nearly two minutes, she still hadn’t found it.

The cottage wasn’t big by any means. It was certainly cute and meant to be homey, if only there was warmth of some kind. She had no idea how this woman hadn’t turned into a popsicle or died of hypothermia. 

There was a main room, which held a tv, a little sitting bench by a massive window, and walls lined with bookshelves. Reading — it was an apparent hobby that Aelin shared with Nesta. She made a mental note to check out the shelves of books as soon as she wasn’t freezing her ass off. 

Luckily, all the lamps she tried worked beautifully, lighting up the small space. There was a short hallway off of the kitchen where the bedroom and bathroom were. After tossing her bags on the neatly made bed full of blankets and pillows, Aelin made her way back into the living room. The space was far too cold for the heat to only have been turned off when Nesta left, which meant that there was no heat in this place at all.

Who the hell survived in the mountains with no central heat?

Aelin felt very strongly that such a fact should have been on the vacation listing. 

With a frustrated, exhausted sigh, Aelin turned to face the fireplace. There were no logs in the fireplace which meant that she’d have to make her way outside in the snowy darkness to try and find some. Being almost midnight, it was the last thing she wanted to do.

She wanted to sleep.

Maybe have a snack.

She wanted warmth. 

Gods, she was freezing.

After turning on the flashlight on her phone, Aelin threw open the front door.

And screamed.

A giant figure stood at the threshold, his fist raised to knock. He didn’t look startled in the slightest as Aelin cursed, her heart racing. Instead, he simply raised a brow, his green eyes scanning Aelin’s face. He was covered in layers, all of them black or dark green. Snow dusted the coat on his shoulders and his knit beanie, which stopped just above his thick brows.

“What the hell?” Aelin yelled, one hand bracing the door to keep herself steady. “It’s the middle of the night! Who the hell are you?”

Once again, he was not phased by Aelin’s outburst. Instead he tossed a thumb over his shoulder. “I brought wood.”

Aelin blinked as she scoffed. “You brought wood? At midnight? You brought wood at midnight? Is that when this woman usually gets her wood? At midnight?”

The euphemism wasn’t lost on Aelin but she didn’t say anything about it. Thankfully, neither did he.

The fist he would have used to knock with slowly fell back to his side. He shoved those hands into his pockets. “No, usually I’m here promptly at ten every couple of days, which is when I would have been here tomorrow…which is also when I thought you’d be getting here, not today. I was on my way home when I saw the lights on and knew I’d gotten the day wrong. Thought you might be cold.”

She was. Gods, she was. “I’m fine.”

She swore she saw his lips quirk as he looked over her shoulder at the dull, empty fireplace. “I’m guessing Nesta didn’t mention that you’d have to heat the place yourself.” 

“Look,” Aelin began, taking a deep breath as her fingers tightened on the door. “I’m tired. I’m grumpy. A little hangry, even. All I want to do is climb into bed, close my eyes, and hopefully wake up in the morning to not regret this decision I’ve made. So, if you would, get the hell off my property so I can make that happen.”

“It’s not your property, but I admire your conviction,” he said, and Aelin hated how he wasn’t even the slightest bit phased by her. “Why don’t you go get ready for bed, unpack your shit, and I’ll start a fire for you?”

Aelin nearly gaped. “You want me to let you, a man that could be a murderer for all I know, in here? Who shows up at midnight—”

“I’m trying to be helpful,” he interrupted, clearly getting frustrated. “If you prefer to chop your own wood and light your own flame, that’s fine. I have places to be.” He turned his back to her and slowly descended the stairs, back to the snow covered path to his truck. “Nesta said she left a note letting you know how to reach me when you need wood. Call, I guess, if you don’t want to freeze to death. I’d hurry. It’s only getting colder tonight.”

By the time Aelin remembered how to speak, he was climbing into the cab of his truck, which was still running, and gunning the engine. Up the mountain he went and Aelin grumbled something about unpacking her shit and went to retrieve the bundle of wood he’d set down at the top of the staircase.

Closing the door, and locking it for emphasis, Aelin found the instructions Nesta had left for her, including a phone number for Rowan, who she could only assume was her new friend. She hastily lit the fireplace and wood burning stove in the back bedroom, and before she knew it, the cottage was nearly as cozy as it’d been in the listing.

She connected to the wifi and sent a text to Lysandra, letting her know she’d safely made it and settled in. 

And then she checked her email.

There were nearly thirty emails and Aelin was almost positive twenty-five of them would be from Arrobyn. She had ignored his texts throughout the day, going so far as to send him to voicemail as she was boarding her flight to Orynth, something she’d never done. None of them were letting her know she’d been fired, so whatever Nox had done had appeased their boss, though he was already making demands for her to be at the office bright and early the day she was back in town.

With a groan, she turned her phone off and reminded herself she was here for a break. From Arrobyn, from life in Velaris, from everything.

There was a bottle of wine on the counter, near her note with Rowan’s phone number, with another note tied around the neck. It had another number on it, in the same feminine scrawl.

Give me a call if you need anything at all! Hope we both get the escapes we need.

Nesta

Although Rowan had pissed her off, Nesta seemed welcoming…even if Aelin had a slightly warmer idea of what welcoming meant. Nonetheless, Aelin hoped they both got their escapes, too. In the morning, she would make sure that she got her relaxing vacation. She wouldn’t accept any other fate.

Just after one, Aelin poured herself a small glass of wine and snuggled up on the couch in front of the fireplace. She had only drunk half of it before she fell into a deep, comfortable sleep.

<.>.<.>.<.>

Since arriving the night before, Nesta was scared to touch anything.

Aelin’s townhouse was immaculate. Everything was sleek and modern, and fell into the white, gray, calming blue color scheme. From the second she had opened the door, she felt like she had walked into a magazine. Only one thing looked out of place, and that was the Christmas tree. Sitting in the living room, it was tall and green and covered in ornaments. It was a nice, cheery sight. Nesta couldn’t remember the last time she’d help put up a Christmas tree. It hadn’t been since her childhood, certainly. 

Although their tastes were different, Aelin did have a good collection of books in her bedroom. Nesta spotted some romances and thought she’d spend a couple days diving into the pages.

Not today, though.

Today she would explore the city. 

She’d arrived in Velaris around eight the night before. The drive to the townhouse was less than twenty minutes and Nesta instantly made herself comfortable. The fridge had been recently stocked and the liquor cabinet was full. Judging from that and the look of her townhouse, Nesta had no idea what Aelin did for work but she decided that the woman did fairly well. There was no way Nesta would be able to afford anything close to this on her author’s salary. Although her books had begun to do well in the last few years, money went fast. 

Having been asleep by ten, Nesta was wide awake before eight, surprising herself by how well she was adjusting to the time change. Maybe the jet lag would hit her later. She needed to take advantage of her time before that happened.

It was snowing outside but wasn’t too cold. The second the flakes hit the sidewalk, they’d melt. It was a nice change from trudging through feet of snow like she did back home. Considering the heart of the city wasn’t far, Nesta decided she would walk. After putting on her boots and coat, she grabbed her purse off the bar in the kitchen and slung it across her body before locking Aelin’s door behind her and strutting toward the city. 

Velaris was beautiful.

Not only the starlight, which Nesta had admired the night before in awe, but the city itself was stunning. The skyscrapers were massive, the people were cheery, and the shops were busy. Everything was decorated - every building, every bus stop, every park bench. The light poles had ribbons wrapped around them like presents and the statues were surrounded by string lights and holly. Nesta had never seen anything like it. With the city so big and so much to do, she was afraid even two weeks wouldn’t be time to see it all.

She didn’t want to waste a single second and before she knew it, it was lunch time and she’d stopped at a restaurant whose windows were open to the hustle and bustle of the streets outside, despite the temperature. Thanks to a roaring fire in the hearth, Nesta was cozy as could be as she sipped her tea and ate the most amazing BLT she’d ever had.

“Everything good over here?” Her server, Emerie, stopped by, a stack of plates in her hand.

“It’s all lovely,” Nesta replied, giving the dark haired woman a polite smile. It was more than she usually offered those around her, but this trip she’d decided to try and be nicer to people. Unless they deserved it, at least. Starting with her sweet waitress was easy. “Thank you so much.”

Emerie’s brows bunched together before she said, “I’m sorry, I’ve got to ask. Where are you from? I’ve been trying to figure out your accent, but I can’t.”

Nesta’s own eyebrows raised, not realizing she even had an accent, but she was a long way from home. “I’m from a small town just south of Spring, but I’ve lived in Orynth for years.”

“Orynth? In Terrasen?” Emerie’s eyes were wide. “I’ve never been, but I’ve heard it’s beautiful. And cold.”

Nesta couldn’t help but laugh. “That it is.”

“What brings you to Velaris?” Emerie asked, a bus boy coming and taking the dirty dishes off her hands. “Are you visiting for the holidays or did you just move to town?”

Shaking her head, despite the fact that she’d been asked two questions, Nesta said, “Just needed a vacation from life. Thought the City of Starlight was the place to do just that.”

“Well, if you’re looking for suggestions to start this vacation of yours, I can give you a few places to check out,” she suggested, and the offer was too kind to decline. Five minutes later, Nesta had a long list on her phone of places to enjoy, starting with the Rainbow.

It was a strip of local artists in shops and vendor carts. Sculptures lined the streets and murals covered the brick walls. As soon as she started exploring the Rainbow of Velaris that afternoon, Nesta decided that Feyre would be in heaven there. In fact, she picked up a few pieces to bring home to her sister for Christmas. There was a painting, a landscape piece of something called Starfall that Nesta was mesmerized by, and a tiny clay sculpture of an ancient being with dark, incandescent wings that caught her attention. Feyre would love both.

She spent hours there, admiring the art, exploring the street. By the time the sun began to set, Nesta was exhausted, but feeling fulfilled. She also found a set of glass roses for Elain. Although Nesta would be missing Christmas with her sisters, she would come home with unforgettable presents. 

Realizing she was starving and not wanting to test Aelin’s kitchen out just yet, Nesta checked the list that Emerie helped her create. There was a little bar and grill not far from Aelin’s that Emerie gave a glowing review. Apparently it had live music, which was always a plus. By the time she made it back to the townhouse, however, Nesta’s feet were killing her and she almost cursed herself for not wearing more practical shoes. The boots looked cute, but they’d been worth it. After dropping off her sister’s gifts, she decided they were cute enough to be worth it again.

A drink would help her forget about her aching feet, surely.

It only took her a few minutes to reach the Illyrian from the townhouse and when she arrived, she was pleasantly surprised to find it busy. It gave her a chance to watch people, to imagine the stories and lives the people around her led. There was a lone table open, thanks to the gloriously chaos of open seating and Nesta found herself sitting before a small stage.

The bartender came, a handsome man about her again, with eyes a color of violet she’d never encountered before, and promised to return with a Jack and Coke and the best thing the kitchen had to offer.

As she waited, she began to relax. She spotted a couple at the bar, happy in love, then another couple a few spots down that couldn’t seem to stop fighting. There were a few loners there, too, surely hoping to find love or at least love for a night. Nesta wondered what people thought about her, sitting at a table alone, but quickly realized that she did not care. 

Especially not as her drink came.

She sipped her Jack and Coke, continuing to watch those around her. Fifteen minutes passed before her waiter returned with the biggest bacon cheeseburger she’d ever seen, with homemade chips, and she ordered another drink to go along with it.

As she took the first bite — the first glorious bite — a man came out on the stage with a guitar. In a matter of seconds, a hush fell over the people in the restaurant and a group of women ran back to their table, giving him their full attention.

Nesta rolled her eyes.

He was one of those.

He cleared his throat as he sat down in the stool, leaning forward to speak into the microphone. “What’s up? Y’all know the drill. You want a song, I’ll play it if I know it. And if I don’t, I’ll pretend I do.” The gaggle of girls laughed far more enthusiastically than they should have. “Relax, have a drink, and tip your bartenders, unless it’s that asshole.”

He pointed at the violet-eyed man who was, in fact, the one serving her and was rolling his eyes, and started strumming.

Nesta was surprised at just how mesmerizing his voice was. It was husky and sensual and matched his rugged good looks. He wore a dark gray henley, jeans, and boots, and his hair was tied back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. There was a day or two’s worth of stubble along his jawline and his hazel eyes were bright in the stage lights trained on him. Most of the songs he played were covers, though he’d tossed a few original songs in now and then. Original songs that weren’t too bad.

He had just finished a request from one of the fan girls sitting at the table next to her own when she realized he was…looking at her.

She wasn’t sure how to take it, wasn’t sure how to handle his piercing stare. He must’ve seen the hesitancy in her body, because he chuckled as he started singing once more. 

Started singing directly to her.

She liked it and hated it at the same time. There was a thrill that shot through her along with the dread and panic that had settled in the pit of her stomach. A couple of the fan girls shot disgusted looks her way and Nesta couldn’t blame them. There she was, sloppily eating a burger by herself while getting serenaded by a guy they were obviously obsessed with.

He was handsome.

He also liked the attention and Nesta could tell. He was the type of man that thrives on a woman’s attention, the kind that used it to his advantage and ran with it.

She wondered which of these groupies he’d be taking home tonight. Nesta looked pointedly at him as she took the last bite of her burger and that stupid grin appeared again as the beautiful words streamed from his mouth.

She suddenly realized he was singing Your Body is a Wonderland and scoffed, pulling enough money out of her wallet to cover her tab and tip her server.

With a final look at the stage, finding his eyes still on her and a smirk still on his handsome face, Nesta turned and left.

She couldn’t shake the feeling his gaze was on her the whole way home.

[offtorivendell]

What’s your favorite crackship??

Ooh, there are so many crack ships and so little time, but I'd have to say that my absolute fav (and one of the most crackish) is Mor x Hypaxia.

[theoverlyenthusiasticwriter]

Migraine

Here’s another little snipbet of my obsession with Fenrys and Azriel, because I know I haven’t been posting very often. Let me know if you want to see more of these two.

*****

“You’re staring.”

He was. Fenrys narrowed his eyes on Azriel, studying his every movement. “Something’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Azriel said for the fifth time that day. He was sitting at his desk, reading some report or other. He lifted a hand, touching his fingertips to his temple and Fenrys pounced. 

“There!” Fenrys pulled his chair closer so he could grab Azriel’s jaw, turning his face this way and that in an attempt to figure out what was plaguing the shadowsinger. Azriel showed no reaction until Fenrys scooted the oil lamp closer too. 

He flinched.

Well, not really, but it was the closest Fenrys had ever seen to one. An almost imperceptible reaction, the slightest fluttering of his eyelids, before Azriel brought his body back under control.

Fenrys moved the lamp back to where it had been before. “You have a migraine.”

“Fenrys, I’m fine—”

“No. Stop that.” Fenrys pointed a finger in his face. “You may be able to lie to everyone else, but not me. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I have work to do.”

“The work can wait. Come on— you’re going to bed.” He stood, attempting to pull Azriel with him.

Azriel remained stubbornly in his seat. “It’s not that bad.”

“It is that bad. I’ve seen you get headaches before, but you’ve never flinched from the light. This is non-negotiable.”

“I didn’t flinch,” he grumbled, but relented. As he rose, his eyes fluttered shut, his face paling slightly.

Fenrys guided him to their bed, forcing him to sit, then to lay down in the center. He fluffed the pillow beneath his head before rising to blow out the lamp and close the curtains. The room plunged into darkness, Azriel’s shadows settling slightly.

“Don’t you dare move,” Fenrys warned Azriel as he left the room on silent feet. “I’ll be right back.”

He retrieved some salve and ice from the kitchen, wrapping the latter in a bit of cloth. Returning to the bedroom, he was relieved to find Azriel hadn’t moved much beyond slinging an arm over his eyes. He was breathing softly through his mouth, hands clenched into fists. 

Fenrys sat carefully on the side of the bed, gently drawing Azriel’s arm back. Whatever had compelled him to hide his pain before was gone now and even in the darkness, Fenrys could see a faint lining of silver in his eyes as he opened them. 

“Where does it hurt?” Fenrys whispered.

Azriel brought a trembling hand to the left side of his brow so Fenrys pressed the ice there as softly as he could. Azriel repositioned it slightly, taking hold of the ball. Next, Fenrys unscrewed the salve he’d brought.

“What’s that?” Azriel asked, his voice rough.

“It smells like peppermint. Trust me.” Fenrys scooped a bit onto his finger and smeared it under Azriel’s nose. “It’ll help.”

Azriel grunted, closing his eyes again. “You don’t have to take care of me.”

“Hush. I want to take care of you.” Fenrys wiped his hands on his pants. “Try to fall asleep. I’m going to see if Madja has something that can help.”

Before he could rise, Azriel’s free hand snaked around his belt. “In the bathroom. Second drawer.”

Fenrys nodded, unsure what he was talking about, but he rose to retrieve it. He kept the light off in the bathroom too, grateful for his Fae vision. The drawer held Azriel’s shaving supplies, but, upon further inspection, also had a small tin. Fenrys unscrewed the lid, finding a powdery substance. He squinted at the label.

Mix one spoonful into a glass of water every twelve hours as needed for migraine headaches.

So Fenrys prepared the drink and brought it back to Azriel’s bedside. “Is this what you wanted?”

Azriel peered at the glass in Fenrys’ hand, then nodded, pushing himself up to a seated position. He drank the whole thing without hesitation, even when Fenrys hissed at him to slow down. 

“It’s painkillers,” Azriel explained, rubbing his temple. “From Madja.”

Fenrys took the glass back and set it on the bedside table. “Lay back down and put the ice back. Do you want me to stay here with you?”

Azriel nodded, then sighed when Fenrys lay with him. His head settled on Fenrys’ chest, their legs tangling together. Fenrys took the ice from where Azriel had set it aside and held it against his brow once more. 

“Thank you,” Azriel whispered after a few moments.

Fenrys kissed his hair. “Of course.”

*****

Tags: @a-trifling-matter @vanilla28 @texas-shaped-waffle-maker @illyrianwitchling @feyrheart @sarahjmaasslave @h-a-p-p-i-e-s @sadb1tch3000 @samuelcasera-blog @wanderlustlastsforever @catita09 @ @madie-max @gendryaforthemasses @nestaarxheron @imlumpingamazingstuff @silver-flames @awesomelena555 @ribhinnog @sannelovesreading @over300books @sayosdreams ​ @illyrian-bookworm @perseusannabeth @ireallyshouldsleeprn ​ @thalia-2-rose ​ @my-fan-side ​ @skychild29 ​ @superspiritfestival ​ @nahthanks ​ @duskandstarlight ​ @julemmaes ​ @darkshadowqueensrule @illyrianshadowhunter ​ @maastrash ​ @swankii-art-teacher ​ @nehemikkele

[lees-chaotic-brain-reblogs]

Azriel Fic Recs

Note: I do sometimes link my reblogs bc there is literally nothing I hate more than clicking on a link only to arrive at the ghost blog page.

Blogs to just read through

@azsazz @azrielhours @daycourtofficial @assassinsblade @illyrian-dreamer

@utterlyazriel @imaginesmai @solbaby7 @fieldofdaisiies @writingcroissant

@pellucid-constellations @flickering-chandelier @shadowdaddies @solbaby7

@marvelsmylife

The Orange Peel Theory (fluff) Hug (fluff)

@bubbles-for-all-of-us

Buried Underneath (angst) Golden Hour (hurt/comfort, fluff)

@mrs-azriel

Unrequited (angst) A Pair of Spies (hurt/comfort)

@leoniestarlee

Illyrian Assassin (fluff, hurt/comfort) (series)

@florencemtrash

The Shadowsinger and the Inkbird (angst, fluff, hurt/comfort) (series) In a Years Time (angst, fluff) The Artificer (angst, fluff, hurt/comfort) (series)

@azrielsdove

Love and Loss (angst, hurt/comfort)

@readychilledwine

Haven (fluff) Losing Forever (angst, hurt/comfort) The Breakfast Club (fluff)

@serpentandlily

No Going Back (angst)

@violet-shadows

Low on Hope (hurt/comfort, angst) (series) Speaking of Forgiveness (angst, hurt/comfort) (series)

@writingsbychlo

When You Hold Me (fluff)

@lalacliffthorne

The Basic Rules of Friendship (fluff)

@bluetimeombre

And I Wouldn't Marry Me Either (angst)

@prythianpages

I've Been Waiting for You (fluff, hurt/comfort) Dandelions (fluff) (series) When I Kissed the Teacher (fluff)

@imaginesmai

The Orange Peel Theory (fluff)

@azrielbrainrot

I Laugh Like Me Again...She Laughs Like You (angst)

@itsjunear

Hidden Feelings (angst)

@stxrvel

The Cliff (angst) (series)

@stormhearty

Pushed to the Edge (angst, hurt/no comfort) (series)

@heartless-tate

Notice Me! (fluff)

@leafsandstarlight

Annual Visit (fluff) (series)

@shadowandlightt

Of Nightmares and Memories (series) (angst)

@azriels-shadowsinger

I Can't Sleep with You Still Mad at Me (hurt/comfort) Everything Reminds Me of You (angst, hurt/comfort) I Broke the Lock You Were Screaming (hurt/comfort)

@thisblogisaboutabook

Rainy Season (angst) Baby, Mine (angst/fluff)

@thehighladywrites

Banned From Intimacy (fluff, 18+)

@ervotica

My Hands are Searching (angst, hurt/comfort)

@grandlinedreams

Archeron Sister AU (angst, hurt/comfort) (series) Untitled (fluff)

@azrielwingspan

A 'Tea' Party (fluff)

@angelshadowsinger

Scarlet-Tipped Secrets; Peonies, for You (angst)

@parkerslatte

Centuries Coming (angst, hurt/comfort)

@moonlightazriel

Worlds Apart (tog x acotar crossover, hurt/comfort) (series) Nap (fluff)

@motherabove

All the Time in the World (angst)

@surielstea

Bright Smiles (fluff)

@itsswritten

Finally (fluff, pregnancy)

@lady-of-tearshed

Clingy Bat (fluff)

@utterlyotterlyx

Another Love (angst, fluff)

@sillymercury

Emergency...(fluff)

@mxtantrights

Jealousy (fluff)

dividers by @cafekitsune

[emilystheories]

Breaking SJM news: a completely new series is (likely) on the way !!

Last night, I came across a veryyyy interesting YouTube video posted by Bloomsbury 4 weeks ago. Although the video was mostly super boring (talking numbers and finances), towards the end, we get this little nugget of information...

[Bloomsbury staff member]: "Regarding the timeline and future Sarah J Maas book releases, which are obviously very important to us... so her next title, which is the third in her Crescent City series, comes out on the 30th of January, 2024. So, that will fall into this financial year."

[Bloomsbury staff member]: "And thereafter, we have SIX further contracted titles -- so continuing this series, and STARTING A NEW SERIES AS WELL."

A new series! This likely goes hand-in-hand with the announcement made by Bloomsbury a couple of months prior, in which they stated that 4 additional SJM books were on the way (but curiously, no further details about these books were given...)

Although we don't know for sure, this is my guess as to what these 6 future SJM books are:

2 x ACOTAR books.

Then the 4 remaining, newly contracted books; the first being the final Crescent City book, House of Many Waters.

Leaving 3 x books for the new series (which makes perfect sense, as when starting a new series, SJM is always contracted for 3 books initially).

The question remains as to what exactly this new series may be. Which leads me to... Twilight of the Gods.

[SJM universe spoilers ahead!]

Back in 2015, SJM started a Pinterest board for 2 new book series that were connected in some way; one was Crescent City, and the other was called Twilight of the Gods. 

On her Twitter, SJM also mentioned that she had been working on both for quite a while, and that it was soon time to release them into the world.

Around the same time, a series called 'Twilight of the Gods' was mysteriously added to SJM's official Goodreads catalogue.

'Twilight of the Gods' is another term for Ragnarok; a famed tale of Norse mythology where the Gods and giants/demons across all worlds joined together to fight a giant battle that signified the end of the world.

Thus, I believe that 'Twilight of the Gods' is SJM's next series; it will be a Ragnarok retelling, and all of the characters from TOG, ACOTAR and CC will join together for a cataclysmic battle against the Asteri, the Daglan, and the Valg (because lets not forget that Orcus and Mantyx are still unaccounted for...).

With this in mind, consider the numerous references to Norse mythology that SJM has already scattered throughout her books:

Feyre as Freya: Freya was perhaps one of the most renowned Norse goddesses, and was Queen.

Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn as the Valkyries: An obvious one, but the Valkyries originated from, and had a huge part to play in Norse Mythology (Ragnarok especially).

Lucien as Loki: According to Norse mythology, Loki is often depicted with long, red hair. He is also seen as a God of fire, and is commonly associated with foxes.

Danika (Fendyr) and Fenrys as Fenrir: Fenrir was a renowned monstrous wolf of Norse mythology. Fenrir being 'unleashed' is one of the key events of Ragnarok.

Hunt as Thor ('Thurr'): During Ragnarok, Thor has a famous battle against the 'Midgard Serpent.' Consider the snake that Hunt is holding on the cover of HOSAB. 

Midgard: is the 'Earth' world in Norse mythology.

Hel (spelt the same way): Is the 'underworld' of Norse mythology.

Further, if you looked at SJM's "Twilight of the Gods" Pinterest board - before it was deleted - you'd see countless images of (Lady?) Thor, the Valkyries, Sailor Moon, and even the coffin that Maeve locked Aelin in... (that can't be a coincidence, right..?!) Some examples below:

'Twilight' is also another word for 'Dusk'; considering the lost Dusk Court, and 'Dusk's Truth' (both of which are the centre of the upcoming crossover and broader multiversal narrative...) it matches up perfectly.

Thus, I believe that the remaining ACOTAR and CC books will continue to add to the multiverse, bit by bit. And whilst they can still be read in a standalone fashion, my guess is that they will build up to a grand finale (perhaps the very last ACOTAR book will end with Aelin walking through a portal...?) and then Twilight of the Gods will begin.

If you thought Kingdom of Ash was epic... then Twilight of the Gods -- if correct -- is bound to blow us away (and, it might even put SJM's name in the history books).

[hunnyrants]

A/N You'll need context from the ending of CC2 for the beginning of the fic, but if you don't plan on reading that series it will (mostly) make sense. But hardcore spoilers for CC2 😭😭

But lmk if you guys would like more Azriel x Cadre!Reader! I've loved this concept forever and am finally ready to start sharing it 🥰 You'll meet reader in the next part and get her pov 🥰

ACOTAR X TOG crossover

Pairing: Azriel X Cadre!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, eventual smut, angst, trauma, CPTSD, war (to be updated ❤️)

⚠️ GIGANTIC ACOSF, CC2, AND KINGDOM OF ASH SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT⚠️

The Blade of Doranelle

part 0.5

Rhysand was going to go mad.

He paces behind his desk with furrowed brows, trying to get any sense of something rational in his life. Since Bryce Quinlan fell into his court months ago his brain has been close to bursting. Feyre is no better. They've each had dozens of reports of tears in their world, in the very air itself, with shifting light marking every last one of them. Even when the female made her way back to her world, the rifts didn't close behind her. Both high lord and lady had gone together to the closest one, just outside of Velaris, and tried to close it themselves. When that proved impossible for the two most powerful high fae to have walked Prythian, tensions rose considerably.

Rhys takes a deep breath and turns to his mate who has been watching him quietly from her perch on the couch. She had Rhea, Madja's assistant, watching Nyx while his parents were occupied throughout their busy afternoons, and this was no exception.

"Thought for a thought?" She murmurs gently.

Rhysand stops pacing, and despite the exhaustion weighing on his soul he smiles. Despite his 500 years being alive, nothing could have prepared him for something this absurd.

"I'm thinking… that I want to throw something out of that window," Rhys grumbles. He turns to Feyre who can practically see the instincts in him roaring to protect and slaughter any who threatens what's his. But that now unsealed letter at the top of dozens of reports? It rattled him.

Azriel had brought it in, after his spies witnessed a village go into an uproar after a blonde fae male in silver armor stepped through a rift and politely requested a letter be delivered to their leader. But when Az had gotten there the male was long gone, stepping back through the rift.

As soon as Rhys finished reading the male's letter; he silently handed it to his mate and his eyes glazed over, immediately contacting everyone in his inner circle for an emergency meeting. Feyre's eyes had darted across the page before immediately turning back to Azriel, her face grave. "We need Amren here."

Although its contents itself were as pleasant as it could be, all things considered. Azriel's face had been dark since he brought in the damned thing, and now that the second in command was getting involved? As he winnowed away, Azriel was sure this was nothing but a bad omen.

He returned within a heartbeat with Amren. The small female was still intimidating despite her loss of power. Especially now seeing her delicate face contorted with rage as she's handed the offending paper by her high lady. Azriel's face was still dark as he moved to stand in front of the fireplace and a cunning eyed Amren now read the letter.

Feyre twists towards her mate once more and leans forward, "What is the political side of you thinking, Rhysand?"

Despite her young age, her eyes were sharp and clear. This was her court and her family potentially in danger, no matter how important these rifts may be, to be sent a letter from something on the other side was a security risk, no matter their intentions.

Rhys takes a deep breath in and considers. Just as he opens his mouth the door bursts open- "What the fuck do you mean a queen from across the rift requested an audience?"

"Hello cousin," Rhys grumbles before pinching his brows.

"There's no way in Hel that you're considering it," hisses Mor again, with Cassian and Nesta on her heels looking inclined to agree. She likely had winnowed them to the river house upon getting her own summons and brief explanation from Rhys mind to mind.

"As I was going to say," he rubs his face, "this meeting is risky."

"But so is leaving unattended rifts across our court." Amren says. She had been silent since she finished reading, the letter dangling haphazardly from her pinched fingers.

"We can handle the rifts across our court. We shouldn't be interacting with what is on the other side," says Azriel as he stalks forward towards Rhys, "It has to be a trap."

"What if it's genuine? Look at your orrery Rhys, you already thought other worlds existed. It was confirmed with Bryce. It wouldn't hurt to at least reply to the letter," Nesta says before she catches Azriel's eye, "You're a spymaster, shouldn't you be halfway through that rift to seek your own answers from whoever delivered the letter?" Azriel's eyes narrow in response.

"That is not a risk even I am willing to take. The rift itself could likely kill us-"

"It won't. I already have eyewitness reports of townsfolk stepping through a rift with rope tied around their waists and returning of their own accord," Feyre interrupts as she presses her fingers into her temples.

"Rhys and I entered their minds and they weren't altered at all, Madja looked at several as well and no bodily harm came to them either. And its been well over two months since the first rift opened, if something was going to happen to those people I think it would have already."

"Mother's tits Rhys. First the queens, Koschei, Bryce, rifts opening across all of Prythian and now finding something on the other side of one?" Cassian sighed before grumbling, "I need to make sure the Illyrians are ready to fly again."

Mor's skirt hissed against the wooden flooring as she swept forward to snatch the letter from Amren, who surprisingly allowed her with no more than a sideways glance. She refolds the paper to align the broken seal once more and traces the dark green wax.

"This seal is unfamiliar…" she muses before skimming the letter and promptly dropping it back onto the once organized desk of Rhysand's office. The paper now seemingly mocking the rest of the reports that were deemed unimportant.

"Do the initials A.A.G. ring any bells?"

[yanny-77]

20 Questions for Writers tag game!

Thank you for the tag @witch-and-her-witcher! I have been waiting to get tagged in this one!!!!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 19!! 13 of them have been updated in 2024. I've been busy!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 377,473 words

3. What fandoms do you write for? I have works for A Court of Thorns and Roses, Crescent City, and Throne of Glass, but these days, I primarily write for Fourth Wing

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? - The Underpants Heist: 332 - Sweet Waters of Spring: 236 - I Don't Feel Safe With You Anymore: 153 - A Tragedy of Fawns and Fate: 134 - Dear Brennan: 116 - Me, You, and My Roommate: 86 (honorable mention since SWOS is no longer available on AO3)

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes! It might not be right away but I will respond to them. Seriously comments make my day and I read them over and over again before I respond. I went through a period after I got sick where I didn't respond to comments and this is one of my only fandom regrets.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I Don't Feel Safe With You Anymore is my Post-Iron Flame Xaden POV fic. The ending is ambiguous and neither option is happy.

Honorable mention to my ToG Epilogue: The Ice King & The Witch Queen

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? You, Me, and My Roommate is a threesome based on HOSAB where everyone finishes. I'd say that's a happy ending.

Honorable Mention: Tell Me a Secret, a cute Bodhi/Ridoc one shot

8. Do you get hate on fics? My SJM fics got hate on the r/acotar subreddit and now I don't go there anymore. Never on AO3 or tumblr

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I do write smut! I primarily write M/M smut but I also write M/M/F threesomes and M/F smut. I am open to other combinations too, if the right story strikes. I usually write Porn with Plot rather than just smut for the sake of smut so I need compelling ideas first.

I'm most proud of the smut in Pink Pony Club. It's Fourth Wing fic but @suebswrites requested that I make it like the Court of Nightmares scene from ACOMAF

10. Do you write crossovers? Yes. I have two fics with Crescent City/ACOTAR crossovers and I am planning a crossover for The Empyrean and All For the Game thanks to @hoeelliexx. I just can't start it until I finish TUH.

A Day to Remember: Flynn x Gwyn A Tragedy of Fawns and Fate: Flynn's Dad x Elain

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Nope

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? I am not cool enough for that ahahaha

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? YES. I love co-writing. I've co-written with @suebswrites and @korrinamoe

Dear Brennan Garrick's Snorkel The Moment I Knew

14. What is your all-time favorite ship? Either Azris or Bodoc...Or Tristan Flynn x Me.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? A Tragedy of Fawns and Fate. I recently revived this fic and published five new chapters so it's not impossible, but I won't make any promises. There's a lot of baggage with this fic because I was very sick while writing it and went through a very difficult time mentally as I struggled to cope with chronic illness. It just brings up a lot of feelings when I work on it

16. What are your writing strengths? I get comments on my dialogue and authenticity and those are both things that I'm really proud of in my writing.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I get caught up in the dialogue and actions and forget to set the scene. I think this is because I don't need a lot fo details to generate a vivid image in my head so it's not a priority when I write. I think people are seeing what I'm seeing until my betas say "Hold up? Where the fuck are they right now?"

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I only read English so it can be difficult for me to follow fics with large amounts of untranslated dialogue. This is 100% a me problem though. I took Spanish for eight years and the best I can do is "Más cerveza por favor" and "¿Dónde está el baño?" I don't even drink so that first one is completely useless to me.

That being said, if you include context clues or translations for me, I'm golden. It can be a really fun way to add characterization to fics.

19. First fandom you wrote for? ACOTAR. I've written fics in my head before but it wasn't until I read ACOTAR that I started writing them down. I think I first published in 2022?

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Pink Pony Club. If you only read one of my fics, let it be this one. I put my entire heart into this one and I'm so stinking proud of it. This fic features Drag Queen Bodhi Durran and his journey to self-acceptance.

---

Tagging: @sarahydeart @alltoowellread @suebswrites @hoeelliexx @sarcasticmothwrites

[maybeiwasjustjade]

Would anyone be interested in reading an Eris x Azriel x OC poly mates fic, where Eris and OC are both mates with Azriel but not each other, but are also each other’s twin flames?

It’ll be a somewhat ToG/ACOTAR crossover post-HOFAS, detailing how the two realms are connected, and a large abundant of lore. It’ll be a two part story, and includes Neris friendship, a spotlight on the Vanserra brothers childhood and Beron’s abuse, complicated family relationships between Eris, his brothers, and their mother, a broken mate bond, IC critical, and Tamlin healing.

Aside from this one, I’ve also got an outline for an au version of ACOSF, where Nesta was rescued by a third party during the hike. Nesta-centric, ToG next generation(s), and Neris endgame.

Lastly, a Tamlin-centric fic detailing his healing post-Koschei, with HL of Dusk Nesta, HL Eris, Lucien back in Spring, a Hewn City rebellion, and a fractured IC. Though I’m not so sure how well this one would be received as there is a lot of Rhysand bashing.

Also all three fics have the same cast of OCs, so really they’re just AUs of the same world? Anyway if people seem interested, I’ll start posting snippets and character introductions (maybe moodboards). Honestly, this started because I wanted to connect the two worlds together, and how certain powers migrated from ToG to the Prythian as we know now.

[featherymalignancy]

Your rose limit is way higher than I thought haha so 🌹x10 for in vino if you want

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

Feyre wore a yellow satin dress adorned with an elegant cherry blossom print, the off-the-shoulder cut and trailing overskirt making her look so much older than her 21 years. Or perhaps it was the look in her steely blue eyes, the self-possession in them reminding him so much of Nesta he almost had to do a double take.

“You look lovely,” he said, extending the flute to her with a smile.

“Thanks,” she said, accepting it and taking a grateful swig. “The dress is Nesta’s, but she never wears it because—”

“—it’s not black,” they finished in unison.

Feyre laughed, taking another swig of her drink.

“She says that yellow makes her look like a toad.”

Now it was Cash’s turn to laugh.

“I highly doubt that, but I’d agree it suits your style better than it does hers.”

They lapsed into comfortable silence for a beat as Feyre studied him, her expression neutral but her gaze wary.

“So,” she said at last. “Which one of them sent you to check on me?”

[acourtofquestions]

Reading the Heir of Fire ending chapters & getting to Chapter 60 aka the “blood oath” Chapter — like: NAH-NAH-NAH — Sarah I READ ACOTAR, UR NOT GETTING ME WITH THIS “BLOOD OATH” TRICK

That right there; THAT IS A MATING BOND if I’ve ever seen one!!!

[lucienarcheron]

HOFAS Thoughts and Review!

This is also my review on Goodreads. Naturally, this is full of spoilers so proceed with caution!

4 star read!

This was a wild ride from start to finish. I found that you jumped right into the action and it literally didn't stop. The crossover with ACOTAR was very info-dump but I didn't mind since a) I don't remember anything lol and b) we needed to make the connection. I really loved seeing Nesta and Azriel in this different element. Given the timeline between ACOSF and HOFAS being about 3 months, I loved that Azriel and Nesta now know how to fight together and Nesta is so in touch with her powers. I love seeing how their friendship has bloomed.

Bryce is a menace and will forever be one. She's one of Sarah's MCs I relate to the least and therefore needed to warm up to her more. I found that in this book, I could despite a lot of her arrogant moments that will rub people the wrong way. I love Quinlar's love but didn't appreciate that she minimized Hunt's reaction to basically reliving much of his trauma with the first war. I'm glad she apologized and got to the point of understanding him but it left a little meh of a taste. The ending scene where he goes after her had my heart in pieces!! Through love, all is indeed possible and I love they were always with each other through it all.

Bryce basically being the High Lady of Dusk and controlling the land was amazing! I loved seeing those scenes. Saitha being the one to kneel first, declaring her as queen? Loved that. The two fae kings dying an awful death? Fabulously done! Hunt mf Althar removing his own slave halo and then removing Isaiah's while calling out that governor lady on her shit??? ADORE! Jesiba's everything in this book? I salute you, queen! Sabine's death??? The Under-King's death??? Literally had me gasping so much.

Ruhn my love, you will always be the Crown Prince of the Fae and that soundbite will always be on repeat every time I see your name lol.

Ruhn x Lidia's romance fell very flat to me. I love Ruhn and hated everything he had to go through but Lidia's character felt out of left field for me. I expected better/different? We find out out of NOWHERE that she's a mom of twins and suddenly, that's her whole personality. She went from this badass agent to everything being about her kids. There is NOTHING WRONG with her being a mother but why couldn't she be a mother AND care about the cause because it's the right thing to do? This was a missed opportunity in my opinion. I also felt like this was very self-insert of Sarah being a mom to have to include another character having kids. The constant talk about all these traumatized idiots having babies is getting on my last fucken nerves tbh. They have a million years to live so can we, I don't know, let them LIVE for five seconds without the absolute need to "start a family"? Let them go to therapy damn it. Sarah constantly writes about how awful it is that fae are obsessed with breeding and whatnot, yet every single of one her characters talks about babies...pls sarah, I beg. Give me ONE otp that doesn't have children. I know she's a HEA author which is what I love about her and her romances but it doesn't always have to end with kids and I just wish we'd see that more. Ruhn and Lidia did not strike me as characters who would be parents at all but now, Ruhn is a stepdad to the Hind's secret twins? It's very weird to me but I hope maybe down the line, we get to see Lidia realize that she is a whole person outside of being a mom. Aside from all that, the rescue scene was amazing. I loved seeing her destroy that asshole she had to endure and I just want to say, Aelin would be cheering mad hard at her for it! It felt like Lidia's fire abilities, the stag relation, and her son's name were all a nod to TOG and I loved that.

As for all the other characters, I really enjoyed seeing Ithan come into his own even though my guy was making mad stupid decisions along the way. His moment with Connor will always have my heart! l also loved the little bits of Ithan and Perry so much! Tharion my love, you will always be famous for making the most desperately dumb decisions before passing that one brain cell you have to Ithan but you know what? Sathia is going to be great for him and I ship it with my whole chest. Ari was wasted in this book and her ungrateful attitude annoyed me. Sigrid's whole plotline was pointless. Declan and Flynn are the best buds and I love them so much. Baxian, you are a gem! Pax being the one responsible for the actual HOFAS while being a healer who is making those antidotes was a great twist and I love it for her. The little fire spirits were so cute and their little moment with the viper queen made me cackle. The Viper Queen can suck it but I am also so very curious about what will happen now considering how that scene ends with Tharion/Ari/Sathia/Colin. I have a feeling all these characters will be showing up again in the future and I'd be excited to read how that will go. I have a feeling it might be done ACOSF style - in that, it'll be standalone in the CC world.

Bonus Chapters:

Bryce, Azriel, Nesta - hilarious and also so cute how Nesta was fascinated by the music playing from Bryce's phone. Azriel doesn't have a mate or partner so let that be clear LOL. Also Nesta already thinking about babies makes me wanna die tbh.

RuhnLidia - It was cute that she proposed and Ruhn is such a little dork crying left and right hahaha.

Quinlar - Hilarious how the big strong thunder boy was scared of those little dolls HAHA.

Ember/Randall - This made me want the Archeron sisters to have a mother figure so badly! The moment with Nesta and Ember hugging was so sweet in the book. I know people are mad at Rhys for yelling at Nesta but y'all...the whole world was at stake and that was a scary decision to make on Nesta's part given how the Pyrthian is STILL traumatized by the Asterie. I don't love how much he yelled but I get it.

Despite having parts I didn't like, I did overall really have fun with this. I think Sarah always does a great job with the action scenes in the end and giving us that found family connection. I could do without having the whole girl boss/girl power white feminist nonsense constantly shoved in our faces but alas! As I said, I still really enjoyed it! It had a lot of moments that pulled on all my emotions as every SJM book does. I will always enjoy what she puts out because I take it all at face value and read it to have fun. Sarah always knows how to enjoy her writing and you can tell while reading and for me, that's more than enough. The lore/plot is secondary to the characters for me and that is always how she sucks me in. She writes compelling characters who have amazing adventures and friendships that you feel through the pages and I will always enjoy that. Can't wait for more books! Here's to hoping we hear something about ACOTAR soon especially now that Bryce gave both swords back to Nesta! Can't wait to see how it plays out!

[sserrafeim]

The only reason I’m begging for a tog x acotar crossover is so that Rhys or Feyre can help Lysandra figure out what her real form would look like

[chairofchaos]

AO3 Chaos

I invite anyone who is interested to 1) Respond to these questions and 2) TELL ME WHAT YOUR AO3 IS SO I CAN FIND YOU THERE!

Thank you @c-starstuff-man0 for the tag! (I think someone else also tagged me but I could not find it- so thank you to you, as well, whoever you are!)

1. How many works do you have on AO3? I currently have 7 works up on AO3.

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 26,150. (That will easily double when I start posting Letters of Love, since LoL is already about 40,000 words. Oops!)

3. What fandoms do you write for? On AO3, currently only ACOTAR and Crescent City (so, SJM Universe stuff)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? (I linked my AO3 at the bottom if you want to go check any of these out!)

The Power of Jewelry (Azris, fluff)

When the Blood Burns (Azris, angst/MCD stuff)

Stormy Night in the Library (Azriel x Reader, fluff)

Death & All That Follows (Azris, definitely angst at this point). This is hilarious because it’s only half done and I’m not sure I like the ending I’ve written, which means it could go happy or sad and I don’t know how to feel about that.

Even In the Dark (Cassian x Reader, hurt/comfort and kind of fluffy) I won’t lie I had to revisit this one to remember what it was lol

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes, and I’m mean about it. Sorry to anyone who has been on the receiving end of a teasing chaos comment. I maybe have too much fun dangling teasers like carrots on a stick...

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Hahahha. Uh. Probably When the Blood Burns. For now, anyways.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? (Do I write happy endings?) Stormy Night in the Library takes my vote for this, though Say It’s True (Mor x Emerie) is also cute and ends happily. I love them. 

8. Do you write smut? Yes. There are some smutty elements to things I have posted. I haven’t written anything specifically for smut though.

9. Do you write crossovers? Nothing that’s posted.

10. Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope.

11. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Uh… not on AO3! (But if you want to check out the Gold Star Crack Headcanons @ninthcircleofprythian and I wrote a little bit ago here they are!)

12. What is your all-time favorite ship? Please. Please don’t hate me. I’ve been on a Dramione train for years now. I know it’s controversial. I can’t get them out of my head.

13. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Would it be bad if I said “Letters of Love”? No. I want to finish it so badly. I do. I’m just scared. I’m working on it, I swear. It just feels monstrous at this point. 

In actuality, I think it’s the crossover that I’m working on. It’s a Throne of Glass/ACOTAR/Crescent City monstrosity that would be roughly 400 9x11 pages long, 12 pt font single spaced with formatting. It started as a romance, morphed into a second-gen TOG x ACOTAR throuple adventure and political drama. Now I just don’t know what to do with it because the universe I’ve imagined for this is so insane and I cannot do it justice.

14. What are your writing strengths? I write with my whole heart, and I care about every word. I’ve been practicing for years.

15. What are your writing weaknesses? Mental illness. Procrastination. Writing 10k in 24 hours and then never finishing that work. I overthink everything. Next question. Please.

16. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I love it. However, I much prefer it when it’s canon that the character speaks another language. I feel awkward prescribing languages to characters unless it’s some sort of AU. I read an incredible Azris AU (linked HERE, check the tags please, written by the wonderful @annaskareninas for Azris Week) where Eris is Italian, and it worked beautifully because it was an AU! But if I was writing in universe, I would have a harder time making Eris speak Italian because for all we know they’re speaking Fae Language We Don't Have a Name For and Italian doesn’t exist in the universe. It’s a mental block for me. I don't mind reading it though!

17. First fandom you wrote for? …Harry Potter. It was 2011, okay?! However, the first I ever POSTED was Percy Jackson. Don't ask me where they ended up, it was a long time ago and those secrets were lost to the sea

18. Favorite fic you’ve written? When the Blood Burns. It hurts just right.

Tags (no pressure!): @positivelyruined @annaskareninas @ ANYONE WHO WANTS TO DO THIS! Also, let me know what your AO3 is in replies or reblogs. I need to follow more of you over there <3

My AO3 is keyboard_clacks, or chairofchaos. I post and respond to comments under both pseuds! Find Me Here!