#acomaf au

[vidalinav]

"What do you mean she's pregnant? She's human."

"I don't know how it happened."

"You don't know? Didn't you do it correctly or do we need to bring in Madja for some educational lessons in biology?

[nocasdatsgay]

I just binged @whisperingmidnights Heart of Velaris series and it was so well done I now have book hangover.

You also made me fall in love with Rhysand again. Witchcraft.

[btsunyeondan]

@bookishfeylin @riote OK BUT WHAT IF, WHAT IF feyre rlly had been brainwashed by rhys and that’s why she starts saying things abt tamlin and the spring court that never happened but when the king of hybern breaks the bargain, it also breaks the brainwashing but feyre knows rhys would never let her go so when she starts her whole crying act, she’s not acting. AND THEN, AND THEN, when they get back to spring, she waits until ianthe fucks off to a temple somewhere and the hybern twins are out terrorizing some innocent people, she tells tamlin and lucien what happened to her AND THEN, AND THEN, they make a plan where it’s basically what happened in acowar except it’s all fake this time, and feyre and lucien leave (sry ianthe doesn’t suffer in this) the twins still try and stop them but fail, and this time feyre choose to go through summer because she’s now sans brainwashing and just hopes tarquin will believe her if they’re caught, something something, they make it to night and feyre has to act all happy to see the ic and ratsand, and then everything is like essentially the same, except ofc feyre and lucien are plotting to expose the nc and rhys, until the hl meeting, where tamlin bursts in and shock, gasp, wtv. feyre has to act all angry until tamlin reveals the hybern plans he stole AND THEN, AND THEN, (this is the whole reason i even thought of this) feyre stands up and goes to tamlin’s side and reveals that she’s been playing the ic this whole time and she calls for a trial to judge ratsand for his crimes against prythian. shit hits the fan. the end.

anyway, what do you think.

[captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship]

FM2M hit 3k hits on AO3!

Thank you all so much for your constant love and support!! I could not do this without all of your love and kindness 💕 special shout out to my two internet besties and the most amazing beta editors I could ask for @beaumaismortel and @panicatthenightcourt 💕💕 another special shout out to the discord group! You are all the best support system I could ask for 💕

Catch up with Ch1-4 on AO3!

Tag List: @beaumaismortel @panicatthenightcourt @s-uppertime @vulpes-fennec @the-lonelybarricade @corcracrow (omg I can finally tag your account now!!) @starfall-spirit @booknerd87 @vikingmagic33 @headcanonheadcase @hlizr50 @highladysith @valeridarkness @lokisllama @aldbooks @foreverinelysian

[epochofbelief]

Breath Control Masterlist—COMPLETE

An A Court of Mist and Fury College Swim Team AU

All characters belong to Sarah J Maas

Feysand and Elriel focused.

Warnings for: alcohol use, cursing, mature content, kidnap, etc, etc.

Summary:

Feyre is a Student-Athlete in college at Prythian University. Unfortunate circumstances lead to Feyre falling in with a group on her swim team that has a reputation for keeping to themselves… Rhysand, the best swimmer on the team, leads this group. Maybe if she starts hanging with different people, life won’t look so hopeless. Or maybe it will lead to more drama. At this point, Feyre doesn’t care. She certainly wishes she did, though.

Chapters:

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

[thesurielships]

143. “Just how stupid do you think I am?”

magnifique

This is super late, I’m sorry. Enjoy :))

Word count: 791 | Masterlist | ao3

Feyre hated French. She hated the snobbish accent, the garish vowels and the fanciful spelling that had no logic or practical use. Whoever dubbed it the language of arts and love and all that was beautiful in life was a fool. Beauty was simplicity. It was a stroke of paint on a blank canvas, vibrant colors coming to life under an inspired gaze. It was the stars glowing in the night sky, the violet of amethyst and crocuses, an irreverent smirk on sensuous lips -

She scowled at the turn her thoughts had taken, fighting the blush creeping up her neck.

“Here, translate these sentences for me.”

She huffed, rolling her eyes at the tutor the principal had forced on her. As if she needed more reasons to stand Rhysand putain de Night’s company.

See? She spoke French just fine.

He tapped the paper in front of him. “It’s just so I can see what level you’re at.”

She dragged it to her side of the table, avoiding his gaze. The handwriting was elegant, the letters beautifully looping into one another.

Rhysand est le gars le plus beau du lycée.

She frowned at the name, knowing mischief was afoot. It was a simple, short sentence, and yet it took longer and much more effort than she cared to admit, but –

“Are you fucking kidding me? How stupid do you think I am?”

Rhys’s eyes were twinkling with amusement. “What is it?”

She nearly slammed her hand – or his face – on the table. “This says Rhysand is the most handsome guy in school!”

“I’m glad you think so, Feyre darling,” he purred, his voice sinfully seductive in the shadowed corner of the stuffy school library.

“No, I –” she protested but she knew her blazing cheeks betrayed her.

She’d had a strong, albeit reluctant crush on Rhysand since sophomore year. He was one year older, her best friend’s cousin, the most popular guy in school and every other trope imaginable, but whenever their eyes locked and he winked or smirked or smiled, she stopped caring how silly she was being.

Rhys was already writing down other sentences, and she could see his name every couple of lines. Gods, how was she supposed to keep a straight face, let alone learn French, when the hottest guy in existence seemed hell-bent on teasing her until she died of embarrassment and/or intense emotional repression?

“Since we’re past that, how about we move to la conjugaison?”

Feyre scowled at him. “Prick,” she muttered under her breath. He’d known that was the area she needed help with from the beginning.

Rhysand … (être, présent)  merveilleux.

Je … (faire, futur simple) n’importe quoi pour ses beaux yeux.

J’… (adorer, présent) la compagnie de Rhysand.

Feyre was careful to keep her face blank as she worked through the ridiculous exercise, until the last sentence had her snapping her head up so fast she almost gave herself whiplash.

(Vouloir, tu) … sortir avec moi? ‘Would you like to go out with me?’

She couldn’t gauge Rhys’s intentions with his face buried in a textbook. Was he serious? Or was it just his usual shameless flirting?

Feyre’s heart was beating so loud she was sure he could somehow hear it. The guy never missed anything. There was no way he didn’t know about her silly crush on him, and he wasn’t so cruel to tease her this way… or was he?

There was only one way to find out.

She steeled herself and scribbled down at the bottom of the page, her handwriting a messy scrawl near Rhys’s picture perfect penmanship.

“Rhys,” her voice was breathless. She cleared her throat and pushed the paper towards him. He slowly closed the book, or maybe it was only slow to Feyre’s heightened senses. His gaze was inscrutable. “When you finish correcting, there is a question in vocabulary I need your help on.”

He clicked his pen open and got to work. She winced at all the wrong answers she had, barely less than half, then held her breath as he read what she’d written.

She couldn’t read French upside down, nor could she decipher Rhys’s face through its impenetrable mask, so she waited.

After what seemed like an eternity, he handed her back the paper. He had filled out the blanks she’d left for him.

Feyre est… belle (adjectif). ‘Feyre is beautiful.’

Je voudrais … sortir avec elle. ‘I would like to go out with her.’

She bit her lip, shyly glancing back at him. His eyes were glowing, as bright as the stars in the night star, as vibrant as amethyst and crocuses.

“So?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, I would love to go out with you.”

Rhysand’s answering smile was nothing short of magnifique.

Tag list:   @joyceortiz13 @bailey-4244 @quakeriders @standbislytherin @mariamuses @ignite14 @1800-fight-me @velarian-trash @rhysands-highlady @queenblueoffire @rowaelinforeverworld @feeoly @buckybvrnes @dayanna-hatter @shadowstar2313 @goldfishh20 @sleeping-and-books @crackedship @your-high-lady @thesirenwashere @whiskeybusiness1776 @amren-courtofdreams @tswaney17 @julemmaes @booksbooksbooksworld @queenofbumblebees @meowsekai @awkward-avocado-s @jesstargaryenqueen

[ad1thi]

thinking about an ACOMAF!buckytony au today 

[moonchildky]

Feysand prompts!?!

So… I’m currently writing a lot of Feysand fanfiction but because of college I can’t actually finish one chapter of neither of them.

You are right now, like: okay, what’s this about?

Let me tell you, I want to try somethings out.

I want to have some Feysand prompts to work in before I uplog anything in here.

So, if you have any prompts you would like to put out there, you can send it to me!

PLEASE!?

I WANT TO HAVE SOMETHING ELSE TO DO, BECAUSE COLLEGE IS KILLING ME!!

It can be anything, AU’s, ACOMAF’s timelines, whatever you want, you can send it to me. I’m such a sucker for Feysand.

Oh, you can send me scenes if you want, too! I mean, what I’m talking about? Just send stuff and I will love you all forever.