A Court Of Fans And Fiction

Reposted and original works~~ feel free to send any fics you think should be added to the list. Let me know if you’re having trouble finding the next chapter in a fic, I’ll try to dig it up for you

[rhysismydaddy]

After Midnight pt. 4 (Feysand)

I have the strongest urge to reread ACOWAR just to read the part where Cass and Azriel like “slam into the ice” or something when Feyre’s running from the Autumn Court. That scene is so good for absolutely no reason I love it. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

_________________________________________________________

~Rhysand~

As usual, thoughts of Feyre invade my head the entire week. 

I can’t believe I told her about Mor. 

My cousin’s treatment is my biggest secret, and I haven’t even let it slip to my closest friends. They all think I’m too busy with teaching to see them. And Mor… I told her I’m paying for her care by finance work online. 

And yet I told Feyre. 

The one person on the planet I probably shouldn’t have told. 

Except I don’t regret a moment of what happened last week. 

Even the goodbye kiss. Oh, yeah, that’s played a prominent part in the memories that flood through my head in the seven days between our appointments. 

I couldn’t resist it. She was standing there looking painfully beautiful, and thoughts of what she’d done an hour before were practically suffocating me. So I kissed her. 

Which was stupid as hell, because goodbye kisses are something couples do. Couples who have feelings for each other. 

And we don’t. 

We have a connection–that’s undeniable at this point–but we definitely don’t have feelings for each other. 

I ignore how that statement feels and get off the elevator, then use the key Feyre left at the desk for me and swing the door open to our standard Friday-night room.

Keep reading

[rhysand-vs-fenrys]

The Shadows of Night: Chapter 1

Summary: A mysterious army appears in the mountains of Night and soon declares war against the High Lords. The conflict will shed light on Night’s darkest secrets and reveal the horrible truth behind every Daemati and Shadowsinger in Prythian.

*Chapters posted every Tuesday.

For my fanfic library, visit @rhysand-vs-rowan-vs-writing. 

Keep reading

[acotarfanfiction]

What did she see????? I have a huge list of things I should be doing, but that was completely worth every second it it took to read! I’m so excited for the next chapter!!!!

[stardustsroses]

a hymn to war | a tog + acotar story | prologue SNIPPET

summary: set 80 years after acofas & koa | Prythian and Erilea have been opened to each other ever since a portal connecting the two worlds was found. Queen Aelin Galathynius has signed a secret peace treaty with the High Lady and High Lord of the Night Court, thus fortifying their friendship, and the union of their families. But when the other High Lords of Prythian discover the Night Court’s secret friends, they are intent on seeing them as foes, and Eris Vanserra is ready to take the opportunity to further destroy what little is left of Prythian’s unity. 

In a world remade by peace, you can hear the faraway drums of war that can - and shall - destroy it once again.

***

a/n: this story will touch on most of the tog + acotar characters, as well as introduce their children. you do not have to read my other gen 2 stories or headcanons to read a hymn to war, but this is a direct continuation of Suns and Stars.

here’s my other gen 2 stories:

- Heirs of the Sun:  post-koa || it begins two and a half-years after the war, and Erilea has slowly been rebuilt into a better world. Through various points of view, we see how all our friends managed to heal ever since, and what their lives have in store for them now that the sun has the chance to shine.

- The Archer. The Prey: they say with great power, comes great responsability. Here’s the part they don’t tell you: with great power, comes great loneliness, too. And the Prince of Adarlan knows loneliness all too well. (Hollin and Evangeline’s story)

- Suns and Stars: set in the future in both the throne of glass and acotar worlds. this is the story of the gen 2, where we will see the lives of our old favourites, as well as tell the stories of their children. Will the two worlds be eternal enemies, or fight to keep the peace together?

- To the Stars: set a couple of years after Suns and Stars || Imagine Feyre and Rhysand have a child, and name him Aidan. Imagine him growing up to be a quiet, loving ~slightly brooding~ male, just like his father. Imagine the aching loneliness he would feel and not understand. Imagine he falls in love with a human girl. That lives in a completely different world. 

- If I Loved You Less:  set in the future, where rhysand and feyre’s second son falls in love with a human girl | When you receive news that you’re about to be an uncle for the first time, it just doesn’t seem possible that anything can come along and ruin it. Except for, you know, your Seer aunt having a vision of your human mate becoming fae under Dangerous Circumstances.

- The First Snow: second epilogue to Suns and Stars, depicting the events of the tog + acotar gen 2 story starting at the end of Suns and Stars, until a few years into the future.

***

tw: verbal abuse; 

rating: explicit | | masterlist | ask box | gen 2 page

***

~the worlds, books, and any recognizable characters belong to sarah j maas~

***

P R O L O G U E snippet:

56 years after the events of acofas

Vanserra Manor, Autumn Court, Prythian

A shrill cry echoes through the manor.

Eris Vanserra grits his teeth, head bent over his dark mahogany desk. In front of him there is a map. Beyond him, there is world painted grey through a fogged up window that greets him with the icy reminder that this season will be a particularly cold one. There has not been a warm autumn day in decades, and Eris Vanserra has no intention of changing that, even though his powers have roots in these lands; even if he himself is autumn; even if his people further in the north have come knocking on his door complaining about no crops and bad harvests and wood that never burns for long.

Well. Where he is concerned, it is their own fault for not preparing beforehand. For taking this land and what t gives them for granted.

Another cry reverberates through the walls, and in a moment of blind rage he stands, and his desk is sent flying. Glass shatters at his feet, and mahogany leaves splinters on his dark floors. Eris ignores the cracks under his boots as he marches out of his office, and into the halls of the cold, silent manor that his father left him

Perhaps left is not the right term, not when one has to pry a crown from your father’s bloody hands and destroy the rest of your siblings to keep it.

But it is his all the same.

The cries become louder, and louder. He cannot stand it.

His wife goes still as tones as he opens the doors to her chambers. He cannot see the crying babe in her arms, hidden by her turned back and her dark hair, and he does not care to, either. He barely takes notice of his third child, his presence as soft as a dim light as he sits at the corner of the room, a book he cannot yet read opened on his lap. The child looks on as he father enters the room, every muscle locking into place, gaze travelling between his mother’s gentle face, to his father’s angry scowl. Involuntarily, his shoulders sink.

“Shut him up,” Eris snarls low, hand on the door handle. “He’s been howling for hours.”

The Lady of Autumn almost pretends her husband is not there. She is now the mother of four healthy males, so she is more than used to being a carer - and a calm one at that. But where calm begins and stoicism begins…

That is another question.

She was raised specially for him. Beron had known her father and grandfather - a good enough high-born family. In fact, because her and Eris had been close in age when they were introduced, they had become fast friends. And, perhaps, Eris might have once cared for her. Even loved her to an extend, even. He had yet to figure out how many children ago that was. Now, he dark hair and hazel eyes and pretty hips did nothing for him. After all, his wife had pulled away from him long ago. Sometimes she dared to look at him as if she despised him. And most times, the feeling was mutual.

Like now.

Swaying the child slowly against her chest, and without turning her eyes to her husband, she says, “He is ill again, Eris. Babes are allowed to fall ill every now and then, too. It is perfectly normal. Give him time.”

Eris’ lip curls. “He’s a weakling.”

The Lady’s back straightens, and slowly she turns. The child’s eyes move from the nonsensical symbols to look up, but the moment he meets his mother’s warning eyes, he promptly looks away.

Her gaze falls on her husband’s face. “He is no such thing. If you had held him once, only once, you would know that to be untrue.”

“They do not need holding,” Eris snarls back, “they need discipline. Something you cannot give them.”

A glimpse of surrow kisses her eyes, but the Lady blinks it away before Eris can sense it. “Eris,” she murmurs, “he is only a little boy.”

Eris looks her over. And finally, his eyes turn to the other child, alone in the corner, but the child knows not to look up. “I want him to be ready by dawn. His brothers will begin training him.”

The Lady raises her chin. “They will do no such thing,” she says, and her voice still maintains an emperious grace about it. She tucks her baby into her shoulder and tries to refrain showing her teeth. “He is a child still.”

“Prepare him.”

“No.” Her composure seems to rattle. A curtain falling. A mask taken away. She swallows her pride, familiar fear consuming her - not fear of the dangerous glint in her husband’s eyes, but the fear that comes with nearing loss. “Eris,” she whispers, “please. Fraser is too young. Train him when he is old enough, so that he may learn faster. He barely knows his letters yet.”

Eris clenches his teeth. “How old is he now?”

The Lady does not dare to breathe in relief. “Only six.”

Eris’ eyes snap to Fraser, analysing, and the boy looks toward his mother, fear bubbling over the surface, almost, almost showing.

The lady looks between her husband and her third child, and with her free hand, she reaches out toward him. “Fraser,” she says, keeping the calm in her voice. “Come here.”

Obediently, the child moves to her side, taking her hand, half hidden by her skirts, his eyes turning to his crying baby brother.

“Look at the way he moves,” she continues, adressing her husband. “Still has the walk of a child. How do you expect him to hold a sword?”

Her voice turns softer then, inexplicably. Like a caress. “Eris.” She says his name as if she might have once said it. Tenderly. “Spare your son for a couple of years. That is all I ask.”

Eris shakes his head. “You coddle them.”

Fraser sees his mother’s eye twitch. A slight tremble of her bottom lip. Things that might have escaped everyone’s notice - even his father’s - but Fraser was attentive. Even this young, he’s already learned to capture the things that normally others do not look for. He sees nervousness. He recognizes it in his mother, because he recognizes it in himself, too.

“And you,” she hisses, “ruin them.”

“Paloma,” Eris growls low - a warning. But Fraser’s mother turns her back on Eris, swaying the babe in her arms while keeping Fraser close to her. Those unusual hazel eyes of her turn to the window, watching the grey skies above, and Fraser is somehow reminded of the birds his father keeps caged in the gardens, always looking up at their ceiling, wishing they saw blue skies instead of iron.

Eris gives her a glare, and disgust lives in his gaze as he looks down at Fraser. It is a look he will remember for the rest of his life, before his father turns on his heel, and slams the doors closed.

His brother cries harder in his mother’s arms.

Paloma lets out a shaking breath.

“Mama.”

She looks down at Fraser, brows pinched together. “Yes, my love.”

“What’s wrong with Jerek?” He asks, frowning at his little brother.

Despite it all, his mother gives him a faint little smile. “Tummy pains. You had them too, when you were very small.”

“What’s a weakling?”

Paloma loses her smile. “Fraser,” she murmurs, “do not ever repeat that word.”

“Sorry,” says Fraser, “but what is it?”

“It means - someone who is not strong enough.” Jerek finally calms a little, exhaustion creeping in. Paloma sways him gently kissing the top of his head. “But that is an ugly word, and it does not apply to your brother or to you. If anything, it applies to your father.”

Fraser pauses as his mother’s eyes turn to the window once more. A raging growl comes from the gardens below, and Fraser stands on his tiptoes, hands on the cold, marbled windowsill.

His mother and him watch as as his two older brothers train with each other among the oak trees. Crius manages to get his brother on the ground, but Octavian is lighter and faster, and swings his arm fast, catching Crius and his jaw by surprise. Crius’ blood drips on the grass. Laughter is heard. Turning his gaze away, Fraser watches his mother instead, and her downcast eyes. He can recognize the sadness in her gaze as she looks out the window at her two sons. Fraser has seen it endless times before.

“I do not want to train,” Fraser says, perhaps to his mother, but mostly to himself.

He does not like blood. He does not like the sight of it, nor the smell of it. 

His mother pulls him close. Jerek sleeps at her shoulder. “I will keep you from that,” she gestures toward the window, “for as long as I can, my love. But there will come a day when I will not be able to keep you from your father, and you must remain strong. Do you understand me, Fraser?”

Fraser lowers his eyes. “I must not be… a weakling.”

Paloma takes in a sharp breath. “You will never be your father. Neither will your brother.”

Fraser’s gaze finds his brother, asleep, half hidden in the crook of their mother’s neck. 

“One day,” Paloma murmurs, “you will know what I mean. And I will need you to protect yourself. And your brother, too. He will need you someday.”

“Need me how?”

“You are an older brother,” Paloma says. “Older brothers are protectors.”

Fraser does not understand for his older brothers have never been protective of him before, but as it is common in young minds, another thought occurs to him before he can finish the last one. “What are they training for, mama?”

Paloma closes her eyes for a single moment, and when Fraser tries to lean into the windowsill again, she drops the curtains. The room is only lit in candlelight now. For a long second, she does not speak. And then, under her breath, so as not to wake the baby, she says, “For war, child.”

“What war?”

She seems to speak to herself then, rather than to Fraser. “There is always a war.” A long pause, her eyes lost in the little fires around the chamber. “I have to do something before he takes you from me, too.”

Fraser’s heart races for a moment at the thought of being parted from his mother, but Paloma quickly comes back to herself and touches his cheek. “Nevermind, my love. It is time for bed.”

Fraser helps his mother gently place Jerek in his cot. “Go on,” she says softly, and smiles as Fraser delicately places a blanket over his brother.

His mother tucks him in. Her bed is only a few feet away, but to Fraser the room feels as if it might extend to the other side of the world. Paloma sees the worry in her son’s eyes and gently pulls his copper hair away from his face. Those dark eyes - her eyes - look up at her, glinting in candlelight.

“Can we keep the candles burning tonight?” Fraser asks in a single, soft breath. “Just for a little while?”

“Do not fret, child,” Paloma says to him. “The darkness is nothing to be afraid of. You will know it. It shall be your friend, someday.”

“But-”

“Sleep, my darling boy,” she murmurs, “I will be here, worry not.”

The Lady of Autumn kisses her children goodnight.

She watches the last flame in her nightstand flicker and twist on itself, like a dance. She remembers dancing. She remembers parties and music and light and excitment, a dashing smile and a courteous hand and a gentle kiss and a whispered I love you. She remembers a flame that once shined bright.

Perhaps too bright.

Without another thought, nor care, she purses her lips.

The flame dies.

***

TO BE CONTINUED…

***

a/n: AHHHHHHHHHHH. Another gen 2 fic you say? APPARENTLY SO. *sighs* I hope ya’ll aren’t getting bored or tired of the gen 2, but do let me know how you feel about this so far. i wouldn’t want to write something you guys are not enjoying, so any feedback is absolutely appreciated! thank you all so much for reading, and hopefully i will see you for the next part!

Tags: (let me know if you want to be tagged for this new work! i will be tagging my usual lovely people, but do let me know if you no longer wish to be tagged)

@acourtofabsandillyrians @mariamuses @lost-in-fictionn @faequeenaelin @mysweetvillain @loysydark @lord-douglas-the-third @empress-ofbloodshed @city-of-fae @cwheart @sewingmonster @b00kworm @spyofthenightcourt @scarznstars @sleeping-and-books @hizqueen4life @thesirenwashere @agirlwhofans @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @keshavomit @paz-fretes @highqueenofelfhame @rosegoldannie @ourbooksuniverse @slightfanofeverything101 @yourlocalautisticoverlord @starcrossed-wildfire @nahthanks @to-read-is-to-breathe @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @wildernessfaerieee @enpointe10 @lisaflowers @claralady @ellequinestpersonne @ladywitchling @uttertrainwreck @lady-therion @shyvioletcat @anonniemousefics @observantmap@ireallyshouldsleeprn @vasudharaghavan @tillyrubes10 @fuzzypineapples @music-and-movies @julemmaes @pullnpeeltwizzlers @esseichayem @nite0wl29  @highlordrhysie @courtofdreamsandterrasen @fireheartdreamerstarborn @space-buns-arsinoe  @acourtofglass   @thebookapothecary @raissassampaio @alxanxah @ifangirlninja @booklover242 @the-love-yourself-journal

[mariamuses]

omg how even do you take this characters and make them so incredibly human and realistic?! i’m in legit awe with you… you never fail to surprise me

[emdythewriter]

A new light | masterlist

Summary:

Azriel Mystic has been in love with his best friend since the moment he met her three years ago. Elain Archeron has been in love with her best friend since the day she moved into his apartment building three years ago. However neither of them have told the other about their feelings. They go through a routine every single day which includes pushing their feelings to the back burner. Azriel is starting to lose his patience though, he’s done waiting and is ready to make a move. Elain however is scared to lose her best friend.

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

chapter five

chapter six

chapter seven (NSFW)

chapter eight

chapter nine

chapter ten (NSFW)

chapter eleven (NSFW)

chapter twelve

chapter thirteen (NSFW)

chapter fourteen

epilogue

[maastrash]

I LOVED THIS OMG BEST BINGE READ IN A WHILE 

[acotarfanfiction]

Do I have work at 6am and it’s 2am now? Yes.

Do I regret bingeing that from beginning to end? Absolutely not!

[nomattertheoceans]

Feysand Summer Fluff Fest - Day 5

Midnight walk

Prompt: Person A and Person B taking a walk on the beach at night time under the moonlight - 932 words

Rhys couldn’t sleep. He’d tried everything, and yet it was almost one in the morning, and he couldn’t sleep.

It was the heat and the humidity. He wasn’t used to it, and the more the days passed, the more  he regretted having agreed to this trip. Cassian and Azriel were sleeping peacefully, and he hadn’t heard any noise from the girls, and yet he couldn’t sleep.

Finally, he got up and left the bedroom to go to the terrace and get some fresh air.

The view was gorgeous from their ground floor apartment directly connected to the beach. He sat down on one of the chairs and let the sound of the waves rush into his ears. Closing his eyes, he listened to the waves until he had almost forgotten the heat of this summer night.

“Rhys?” A voice came from behind him, and he opened his eyes with a start. He turned to the voice, and found Feyre looking at him, wearing only a very short summer dress, a small smile on her lips. Great.

Keep reading

[thefangirlofhp]

PLEASE can we have modern au elain at the gym for the first time and azriel helping and getting all flustered teehee

Nonnie, your wish is my command! You’ve caught me in a very good mood so watch out for a follow up reblog to this answer later on :))

[thefangirlofhp]

I wrote this when I got inspired and it doesn’t match exactly your request but I have no regrets 😂 please enjoy.

__________ Elain wasn’t a fit person by any stretch. She hadn’t a reason to be, in her defence, her job as part of the IT department required minimal physical fitness, and elevators and escalators were invented for the purposes of avoiding the devil’s work that people called stairs. And she lived in the second floor of her apartment building and used public transportation to go about. To top it off, her love of pastries and baked goodies meant she wasn’t quite ready to pay mind to her calorie intake or be bothered to count them. 

She tried to remedy the lack of fitness by walking to the bakery and other nearby facilities. She even had the idea of starting to walk to work, but quickly discarded the idea after one time where five minutes into her walk she had realised that a) she was going to be late, b) she was sweating and heaving for breath too much, and c) the path to work was extremely shorter when one was taking a vehicle there. Elain could just not understand people like her friend, Clare, who would get up at the crack of dawn for a run before work, take the stairs instead of any other alternative, walk the numerous trips in one’s day and have a life of planned meals and healthy eating. Elain thought about dieting, like Clare once did, but just could not give up croissants on her coffee break for granola bars. 

That is not to say Elain is a picky eater or that she prefers junk food. Elain likes all food. That’s her problem. That, and her job does not need being in shape- only her brain to be sharp. No one said anything about being able to run laps or do push-ups. That, too, is also not to say Elain doesn’t like being active. She loves to play games like badminton and Burglars and The Police (that had been one of her favorite games in school. She loved being the burglar). She loves to run, play games and swim. She just can’t last two minutes without her rib cage threatening to cave in on her chest or her sides straining sharply like a pair of tights that don’t fit.

It was all fine and dandy for her, until it got bad enough to the point that when the elevator was out of order and she had to take the stairs with Clare, she collapsed on the ground clutching her sides after climbing four floors, wheezing about how life can go on without her, she’ll be fine her yes thank you, leave her to die in peace.

Clare had talked her into signing up to a gym and working on getting back in shape. Her friend suggested a gym who recently was offering a membership with a discount for a month. What’s the harm in trying it out, Clare had asked. Sipping a glass of orange juice, Elain agreed. Now, she was no idiot. Before going on her first day to the gym, she had went online and scavenged the internet on the Dos and Donts of gym-going. She watched comedy sketches that identified the types of people one would see at the gym, in order to avoid being the dumbest person there and mentally preparing herself for what she was to witness. It was a lot like going to middle school, listening to Nesta instruct her and what to do and what to avoid. By the time the video about a workout for beginners finished, Elain looked up from her laptop at the time and shut down the device when it was a late 1:03am. Her cat was snoring in her lap. 

When she arrived at the gym, she immediately felt out of place. Sure, she’d gone and online shopped for matching cute gym shirts and yoga pants and a new headband and a brand new water bottle and a new wristwatch to keep her motivated. But looking around the large gym, filled with people already into their respective beast modes going at the machines that Elain had absolutely no name for, she was ready to turn on her heel and to leave.

No! She had promised herself to go back into shape and the gym was the best place for it. She promised herself a cinnamon roll after this, and the thought of the pastry was enough to make her walk into the gym and sign up for a membership. Now. Elain walked in with whole categories of people to sort into for fun. There was The Screamer already spotted, The Light Sweater at one of those machines you had to pull, The Talkative Timmy (she made a mental note to avoid him) and the Heavy Sweater. Elain was armed with the knowledge of the kinds of people that frequent gyms, and was thoroughly educated about the gym now.

What YouTube videos failed to mention was the idiot who forgot their water. Naturally, Elain was such a person. The safest option to start with is the treadmill, so she had approached the machines lined up before a set of windows and timidly got on one, most comfortable with starting her workout with running. 

Five minutes later of light jogging, Elain was beginning to feel good about herself. The Singer type was running next to her on the nearby treadmill, loudly singing to a rock band Elain hadn’t heard of. But the girl was funny so Elain did not comment on her loud singing. Six minutes in, a fellow gym-goer stepped on the treadmill which Singer abandoned after two minutes in (Elain was very grateful) and began running. Elain glanced at him out of the corner of her eye as he walked for a few seconds then sped it up to full running. She was curious to the stereotype he would fit in, and Elain contemplated sorting him in the Heavy Sprinter category. He was running fast. 

Not wanting to be The Creep, she didn’t look again and kept her steady light pace of running. She was doing good, for a first timer. Ten minutes later, she looked around for that cycling machine that had looked like fun to use. She wanted to try that one. Really, the only two machines that she had in mind to use where the treadmill and that cycling machine. Sweating, she stepped off the treadmill and stood on the tips of her toes to locate it. She spotted Mr How Many Sets Are You Doing screaming the question at an innocent bystander, then she found The Creep. 

Staring at her. She quickly looked away, her hand shooting up to her ponytail nervously. The Creep wouldn’t look away when she glanced at him again, so she quickly got on the treadmill again and started it once again. If Heavy Sprinter noticed her quick return, he made no mention of it. Ignored her even. Elain ran for a solid minute before The Creep appeared at her shoulder with a “Hey, girl”. She visibly startled and jumped, loosing her pace on the quick treadmill and stumbling on it. Her legs couldn’t keep up with the lost rhythm. She latched onto the treadmill handle as her legs ran, bending and crouching, loosing control and almost tripping onto it.

For one terrifying moment, her face came too close to the hasty rolling tape, and she screwed her eyes shut as she tried to pull herself out of imminent injury when someone yanked her off the fast machine and switched it off with the emergency red button she should have used. Stumbling to stand straight, her eyes flew open while someone holding her steadied her on the floor, safely away from the treadmill. Her heart was racing and The Creep was nowhere to be seen. “You all right?” A smooth deep voice asked from her side. She met the eyes of her savior, a hazel pair of beautiful mixing colours, coloured with concern as they stared straight into her soul and thought-

Oh no.

The man who had been running on the treadmill next to her was staring at her face, brow furrowed and eyebrows low over his eyes. Beautiful. He was beautiful. Devastatingly. Elain panted, mouth dry and sticky and stared back at him. Then, the Idiot Who Forgot Their Water promptly fainted.

——

She came to what felt like a second later, to stare up at an office ceiling- oh thank God, it was all a bad dream. She’d never go to a gym. She was dozing off at work before murmured voices made her actually think. Someone was supporting her head, her legs were propped up high on the edge of a chair, and she was in her brand new gym clothes, her legs positively screaming. The arm beneath her head was steady and the rim of a bottle was held to her lips, cool water lightly sloshing into her dry mouth. 

She almost surged up to drink all the cool water, hand darting to the bottle to drink more and someone withdrawing it slightly with a warning “careful”. Standing over her was a stranger of a brown colouring, black hair bound in a bun and observing her keenly. Then she looked to the person supporting her and helping her drink. Mr Heavy Devastatingly Handsome Sprinter. 

She coughed, almost a choke and he set down the bottle, lowering her head back to the floor. “What-?” She began to ask, slightly confused and disoriented and frankly, a little scared. “What?”

“Dehydrated,” he answered. “Lack of sugar,” piped up the other guy. She rubbed her eyes. She hadn’t eaten anything this morning before going to the gym. What an idiot. 

“How long?” She tried to sit up.

“Stay still for a little,” the handsome stranger said. “Five minutes. Cassian put in a sugar solution in the water” he held the wrapper before her eyes to see. “I’m Azriel.”

“Elain,” she grumbled, embarrassed. “I forgot my water at home.”

“First timer?” Asked Cassian. She hummed affirmatively.

“Eat this when you feel like getting up,” Azriel pressed a bar of chocolate in her palm. “Or just call it a day and go home.” “Don’t tempt me,” she mumbled, thinking of the promised cinnamon roll. “I’m trying to get fit.”

“You should have signed up for a class,” Cassian sounded amused as he spoke. “Instead of braving the wild alone.”

“What are you, The Fanatic Instructor?” She said without thinking. Azriel laughed. “Yeah, he is. He gives a class here.”

“Aha, caught you,” she, delusional, muttered as she pointed a stray finger at him, her eyes closing. “Trying to recruit me.”

“Guilty as charged. Gotta make a living somehow.”

“Well I’m never coming back here again so don’t put your hopes in me,” she sighed, opening her eyes and rubbing her furrowed forehead as Azriel laughed again. He had a handsome laugh, too. Not fair at all. 

“Another lost client, man,” he shook his head. Elain used the shelter of having fainted to watch him. “Told you, your gym will shut down if you don’t make a move to save it.”

“This is your gym?” Elain asked Cassian. He nodded, a smile on his lips as he stood, arms crossed. “Well I’m too tired to be embarrassed. I stand by what I said. Sorry.”

He shrugged. “It’s fine. Though I encourage you not to give up just yet.”

“Too late,” she whispered dramatically, eyes fluttering shut again. “It’s too late.”

Sighing, she swung her legs off the chair and sat up, clutching her head that turned with the rush of blood. Azriel touched her shoulder with another voiced “careful”. She liked that word from him. 

Elain glanced at the chocolate bar in her hand- a Snickers. Oh this is a semi-good day. It would go so well with some bitter coffee. “Thanks for everything,” she smiled at Azriel. He dropped his smile as he stared back at her -so much staring. She didn’t mind at all. She’d stare at him all day if it was all right- and glanced away, almost, almost shyly. 

She glanced at the chocolate again and bit her lip, contemplating. She looked up at him again -today was the day for new choices and leaving the comfort zone- and smiled her most charming smile, one she summoned with a quick prayer and enough resolution. “This chocolate would go well with some coffee. Can I treat you to some and we can share it? As a thank you.” 

Azriel rubbed his neck. “It’s my job. I’m a paramedic.” 

Elain smiled gently. “That’s not why I asked.” He met her steady gaze, mouth parted a little. Then he shut it and smiled. And nodded. 

Cassian spluttered somewhere in the background, but neither of them heard him, too busy enraptured in their small world of cool water, a chocolate bar, treadmills and shy bright smiles. ______ tags: @tsawney17 @julesherondalex @56bloodyfingers @theshadowsinger-and-thefawn @illyrian-bookworm @christiashadows @awkward-avocado-s @mis-lil-red @gorl-power @thesirenwashere @so-yeah-imma-witch @sadbitchlorcan @stars-falling @trying-to-read @dreamerforever-5 @starlitfangirl @hail-doodles @eloeloeheheh @i-am-lost-in-my-world

[theladyofdeath]

Alone in the Ashes {Masterlist}

A Court of Thorns and Roses fanfction, characters belong to Sarah J Maas. Revolves around Nesta x Cassian, Feyre x Rhysand, and Elain x Azriel. Other characters appear throughout.

Warning: Mature content. Alcohol abuse, verbal abuse, sex, language, eating disorders.

Summary: The Archeron sisters had a great childhood, but everything had changed once their mother died. Their father lost it, and Nesta, Elain, and Feyre were left on their own.

Feyre moved in with her long time boyfriend who had become verbally abusive and controlling. One day, she decided that she couldn’t do it anymore, and fled to be the roommate of her best friend, the boy that Feyre’s ex blames for their breakup. 

Elain had fallen in love, only to have her heart broken in the most horrid of ways. Between that and her addiction, she forgot who she had been before him, and she has no idea who she wants to be. All she knows is that she wishes to fade away, if only so that the pain would stop, if only for a little while. 

Nesta had a falling out with her father and her sisters after her mother’s death. She now lives in a shitty apartment in a shitty part of town, wasting her days at the bar and barely scraping up enough money to get by, killing the loneliness any way she can. 

Depression is a bitch, isn’t it? 

Index:

Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

[quakeriders]

quakeriders’ new feysand taglist

reblog this post if you want to be tagged in my feysand fics. likes and replies do not count. more info under the cut.

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[quakeriders]

the note glitch isn’t fixed but i found a work around so starting today (17.02.2020) this is my official taglist. likes and replies do not count. if you want to be tagged in my feysand fics, please reblog this post. thank you.

[acotarfanfiction]

Here’s the prologue of my new fic from Cassian’s POV after ACOFAS:

A Court of Dance and Bloodshed

“Prologue

  The moment we received Devlon's head and wings in a box was one of the worst in my life. 

   My first thoughts had been to another century, two other boxes.  The first box containing the head of a child whose face was as dear to me as Rhys and Azriel's etched in pain.  The second box showing the face of a woman who had become a mother to me in the camp that I both loved and hated.

    I dug my blunt, chewed nails deep into my palms in an attempt to shake the memory and focus on the terrible implications of the present.

    We were at war.”

You can read more on Wattpad @illyrian_tattoos

[river-talks-books]

I’m Willing to Try

(Ao3)

This is the first chapter in what I’m planning to more or less be a collection of oneshots about Lucien and Elain getting used to the Night Court and getting used to the idea of being mates. 

I’m Willing to Try

           Lucien looked out the window at where Elain was happily tending her garden. Beside her, Azriel was lounging with his dark wings spread wide to catch the sun. Every time Lucien saw them together he had to intentionally shove away his jealousy, had to remind himself that though Elain was his mate, she was not his, and she could spend her time with whoever she liked.

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[thewraithsofmorhogg]

The Darlings \\ ACOTAR

the darlings, a peaky blinders-inspired au // 

‣read on ao3 ‣fic masterlist 

summary: Rhysand Darling is the leader of a gang. He leads his family and protects his people; life is simple. Isn’t it?

a/n: hello, back with another au because I can’t stop myself. i have very little plot for this other than feysand in this setting? enjoy what i’ve got. we’ll see if i come up with anything else.

warning: this post contains mature/nsfw content.

Rhys had a shit day, and he was ready for a drink.

He groans, settling into the stool at the bar, bones weary from a long day, scheming and managing Velaris affairs. Cassian plops beside him, into the seat on his left, and Azriel perches at the end of his own place, eyes focused on the door in ever-lasting vigilance.

Azriel would save all their lives one day. It was only the luck of the Cauldron that’d prevented him from having to do so yet.

“On the house Mr. Darling,” the bartender tells Rhys, approaching with an unopened bottle of amber liquid; he sets it on the counter with three pristine glasses. It was going to take a lot more than that to get these three Illyrian-bred bastards drunk, but it was a start.

Cassian cheers and Azriel begins to serve the drink, quietly eager for his own glass. Rhys nods to the bartender in thanks; the man is also the owner. He pays them for protection. Still, Rhys slides the man a generous amount of coin, enough to cover the monumental cost of getting the Darling brothers wasted and even leave enough for a generous tip.

Rhysand Darling paid his own way in life. No one else.

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[mademoisellenimbob]

I love this so much this literally gives me life and Thomas Shelby is my literal crush like dude

[crackedship]

Great Deceits #1

Feyrhycien fake dating AU #1

See my masterlist to read other chapters.

Warning for drinking, light swearing, some sexual thoughts and past abusive relationships.

Feyre was absurdly drunk.

It was honestly her favorite activity to do with her roommate and best friend, Lucien. Whether it was a good or bad day, out on the night or in their apartment in the middle of the morning, it always ended up with laughs and weird one-night friends.

Like right now.

They came into their fourth bar of the night, more than slightly tipsy. The day had been bad- it was nearing the holiday season, and as if in a secret plan, both their families called.

No, forget about the part we never supported or, pretty much, made an effort for the whole 21 years of your life, Feyre. Come celebrate capitalism with us.

She hated capitalism a lot.

At least, she could tell that her family regretted somethings and actually loved her, unlike Lucien, who had been beaten and humiliated by his ex-father and half-brothers. The fact that he had Helion, his real father, and his mother now helped, but didn’t erase shit nor stop his older siblings of inviting him, for whatever reason their wicked minds could come up with.

Given that, they got back from work and barely had a meal before starting to vent about how their families were spiteful and deciding for going out. And now, they were sitting with strangers. Well, not that much of strangers anymore.

There was Morrigan, a wonderful sight. Blonde, brown eyes, tall, beautiful curves hugged by a shiny red cloth. Life of the party, burning flame, unbendable steel. Feyre wasn’t that into women, but cauldron, Mor was a hell of a keeper.

Amren and Azriel were quiet. While he was just towards private and shy with a hint of danger, Amren was sharp edges and dark jokes, looks that demanded respect and implied intimidation. They were the ones you couldn’t decide you should fear or love, but would do anything to please.

Cassian was just big. In a sense of tall and muscular, but also just big laughs, smiles, stories, hugs. Everything he did or say showed a bit of how big of a heart he had, even still acting like a shameless flirt. Big, big dork.

And then there was Rhys. Cauldron, she had half a mind to remember breathing when looking at him. Of course she had been crushing hard on Lucien for the longest time now, but she still had eyes. And she could very much see her best friend also gawking at the man.

They couldn’t help it, honestly. He was just full of smirks, looked like the incarnation of a heartbreak itself. But he was also intelligent and kind and had tons of insufferable flirting lines. The fact that he had dark blue, almost violet eyes with a gorgeous tawny skin and black hair, sharp jaw and great cheekbones wasn’t bad either. Not quite the same height as his brothers, yet still fit and dressed in black, seemingly soft clothes. All she wanted was to run her hands in his arms, kiss his neck and-

Perhaps it was enough drinking.

They only had ended up in their table after Cassian flirted with Feyre. She had all intentions to return the feeling, since Lucien was apparently still oblivious to any advances she did, until she saw Mor and thought she was more into her than Cassian. But then they were invited to their table, she saw Rhysand and her mind was set.

Maybe she was enjoying being single too much, but that was exactly something Tamlin would say, so she just resumed to thinking impure things about many people in just one group of friends all at once. It was unfair for a single bunch of people to be so pretty.

They were having a blast until, way too soon, the talk went from Cassian and Mor covering their high school physics teacher car with glittery, pink unicorn stickers for being a misogynistic ass to why Feyre and Lucien were out tonight.

They were too drunk to filter what they should tell strangers, but these strangers are nice, she told herself, making her mind avoid scenarios that they would just have that pity look. So they told them as best as a drunk mind could, about shitty families and even shittier holidays.

Not to her surprise, they joined Lucien and Feyre while they roasted their relatives. Even when the mood could have changed and they could have “put her back to her place” as Ianthe, Tamlin or even Alis would do when she talked about her family like that, saying they were right and she should be more grateful.

Her mind was quick to decide that she shouldn’t ever compare these people in front of her to the other ones she previously had in her life. They were nothing alike, and she wanted to keep these one-night friends very much.

“That sucks,” Mor said when the subject was almost over, taking a long sip of her beer. “But, if it sucks that bad, you could scape like me and Rhys do sometimes,” she pointed her finger at Feyre, swaying a bit in the chair. “We make bets.”

“Bets?” Feyre just frowned, not getting the idea.

“For example, once we bet who could get the most crazy Thanksgiving,” Rhys said upon seeing her confusion. “That’s how she got wasted on a frat party and I pretended to be someone’s boyfriend to cause havoc on a family dinner.” He raised his glass of wine, toasting his cousin. “Needless to say that I won.”

Feyre just laughed, watching them start bickering over who had actually won. Even inebriated, she discarded the idea of bets. Just wasn’t much of a thing for her and her roomate, they would much rather be sulking together then having fun apart.

Except that all of it still made the wheels of her wicked thoughts turn.

Havoc on family dinner.

Yes, indeed she had a family and a perfect scenario to raise hell. All she needed was a phone number and half a mind to scribble a note on her phone to remember when sober.

She was certain Lucien became a little scared of the devilish grin she was giving them.

**********

Oh yes, yet another feyrhycien au from me. Can you tell I have an obsession? 

This is going to be a multichapter, but I can’t promise I’ll upload constantly, since I don’t have all of it written down yet. Also it’s sort of a prequel to the pregnancy ones, but I might add or change somethings that aren’t really brought up on those ones.

It doesn’t have a name yet, but its the fake dating au you never asked for. You’re welcome. 

Thank you for reading/like/reblog, let me know if you would want to be tagged ❤️

[acotarfanfiction]

There’s only 5 chapters so far but I’m already dying. I really freaking love this ship and the writing is awesome!

[illyrianbeauty-deactivated20260]

A Not so Chance Encounter: Chapter 1

Rhys is persuaded to attend a fundraiser by his cousin Mor. He didn’t expect to meet the girl of his dreams.

Fic Masterlist

Writing Masterlist

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[acotarfanfiction]

❤️❤️❤️

[stardustsroses]

Nesta touching Cassian's wings for the first time and his reaction to this!!!

you shall get it!!!

***

The weight of the heat was almost suffocating, even at night, even in the mountains.

It danced around them, kissing their skin and leaving little prickles of sweat falling off their foreheads. 

Nesta set her jaw. And she waved her sword.

The clash sent him staggering back only half a step, but it was enough to make her chest swell of pride - and his. Everyday, she was getting better and better, unbeatable, formidable, absolutely, mind-blowingly, good.

And she knew that Cassian never dared to back down, or go easy on her. This was her doing. This strength, this solid, unwavering strength of hers, was her triumph alone.

Cassian grinned, breathing hard through his mouth, as they danced in the night with swords gleaming between them. Nesta’s steps were clean as rivers’ waters, swift and crisp like a morning’s wind, calculating. Her hands didn’t shake, not even as his sword came down on hers to attempt to push her back.

Nesta quickly pushed his sword away in a defensive, cutting move. They twirled around each other, not as prey and predator, but as predator and predator. They faced each other eagerly, and that is when he made the mistake of advancing first.

Because she was ready.

Wasn’t she always?

Always one step ahead of him, that Nesta, that fire of a female, always counting his bad steps and taking complete advantage of him.

That’s exactly how he liked her.

But truth be told - the moment he came tumbling down at her feet, when she tripped him when he was absolutely captivated by her eyes, Cassian was not expecting it.

He found himself swordless and with the tip of a blade pressed at his throat.

His grin grew the size of the sun.

She breathed hard, and smirked down at him, and dear Mother, that smirk - that smirk that only Nesta could create, that staggering beauty yet unresolved darkness etched in that mouth-

“I win,” she said, and pushed her blade out of the way.

But if Nesta Archeron gave him a fight, then Cassian gave one right back.

She enjoyed him like that.

But truth be told - the moment he swiped her feet and made her fall to the ground, her blade lying somewhere far, she was not expecting it. So large was her amazement, that when she opened her eyes, he was on top of her, blocking her movements, looking down at her with smug eyes.

Idiot.

She grinned back, shaking her head at him.

“I win,” he breathed, lips nearing hers.

Before he could kiss her, Nesta raised her hand, and without a moment’s notice, she touched the underside of his wing - light as a feather, almost curiously, just to see what he’d do-

He stopped, frozen on the spot, his breath cut off.

Something changed in both of their faces.

Something primal, yet sweet on his.

Something-

Tender. On hers.

Nesta traced the contours of the sharp wing, feeling its ridges and veins, the soft parts and the harder paths, where it all connected. In the moonlight, it appeared translucent. As if part of the night itself.

“Do you…” she whispered, somehow unable to find her words in that moment, unable to remember that they were on the dirty ground, covered in sweat, in the middle of the camp at night. “Do you like it when I touch you like this?”

Cassian, too, could not find his words. Her touch was unexplicable.

Heaven in a second.

He smiled as her hand fell at his cheek. He kissed her palm. “You will soon learn, Nesta, that touching a male’s wings will most likely get you in very big trouble.”

“How so?” She asked, interested.

“I could devour you just now,” he said, touching his lips to her wrist then. “Right here, right now.”

Her breathings shook a little, her eyes tracing his. “Only I can do this.” It was a little bit of a question.

He nodded once. “Just you. No one else touches my wings. Just you.”

[ao3commentoftheday]

Six Sentence Sunday

Writers: post (approximately) six sentences from something you’re working on. If you aren’t ready to do that, add six sentences to your WIP.

Readers: challenge yourselves to leave a six sentence comment or give a writer a six sentence prompt. (or a total of six sentences for the day)

Fans and creators alike: reblog a fandom post and add some love in the tags. Aim for 6 posts - or 6 tags. Whatever you can manage!

Feel free to repost this banner!

[julesherondalex]

Home in Hogwarts (Elriel)

Summary: Sweet pining, love notes and Hogwarts. Let’s unite, Potterheads.

Word Count: 7096                    Song of the Fic

A/N: This one-shot sprang from unexpected inspiration and now holds a very special place in my heart. It felt wonderful to return to the place that will always remain mini-me’s home. Excuse the exorbitant length of this fic.

Read on AO3 here.

“Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home.” - J. K. Rowling

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Azriel was lying on his bed, reading a book, with Elain freaking Archeron.

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[acotarfanfiction]

I’m crying at this beauty

[thewraithsofmorhogg]

Castle of Dreams (ACOTAR AU Week, Day 7: Feysand Royalty AU)

ACOTAR AU Week, Day 7: Feysand Royalty AU

ACOTAR AU WEEK, DAY 7: Free AU (Royalty) | 3703 words

Read on AO3. | Noodlecatposts’ Masterlist for the week.

Feyre wasn’t sure how she landed herself in some modern-day fairytale, but here she was, serving as a tutor for an actual princess.

Inspired by the prompt: “Sire, please stop flirting with me in front of your potential suitors. It’s making it very hard for you to get married.” “Yeah, that’s the point.” 

Author’s Notes: I got carried away; so, I will be posting this thing in parts. (Two parts? Three? Unclear.) It’s basically a Hallmark movie. Enjoy!

To see other submissions view @acotarauweek​!!!

***

PART ONE

Feyre wasn’t sure how she landed herself in some modern-day fairytale, but here she was, serving as a tutor for an actual princess.

 It was just—she’d been so desperate to escape her current life that Feyre hadn’t thought twice about applying for some arts tutor job abroad that promised the two things she desired most in this world: freedom and art.

Was Feyre qualified to teach some kid, some princess, about art? She wasn’t really sure herself, but Feyre had a bachelors, paid for in her blood, sweat, and tears, and she had experience tricking the small children at the youth center into arts and crafts time. So, she applied, and Feyre went through the interview process, charade though it might have been.

Imagine her horror when one Morrigan Verity of Prythian called her and offered her the job.

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[acotarfanfiction]

This is awesome, I hope you continue it!