#high king rhysand

[feyrescourt]

chapter 48, I will always love you

art by nicki.li_

[potatoplace]

OMGG can you please do a dark High king and queen🩵💜 that discover reader is their mate 🤭

(Un)Lucky Soul

Dark!Feysand x Reader

Notes: non-consensual bond acceptance (you don't know that's what's gonna happen 🤷‍♀️)

🩵💜 Feysand 🤍 Reader 🖤 Dark Fic 💘 Mates

Notes: eeee I love High King and Queen Feysand, they can rule the whole world idc just let them be sexy n powerful (my brain is not very coherent today lol) I hope you guys like it! 🫶 Request Game | Masterlist

18+ only pls

🩵💜🤍💜🩵

"You- come forward," a rich voice commanded, and the power laced into the words could have only come from one male - your High King.

Your head snapped to look at him, sitting at the far end of the room in a throne, your High Queen seated in her matching one, wanting to see who they had called forth.

And to your utter surprise, their eyes were on you, violet and blue searing into your skin.

Hands pushed you gently from behind, your head whipping to see who had offered you up - your mother and father, a hint of fear in their eyes but mostly- mostly pride.

Every so often they did this, choosing a soul from the crowd of their subjects to join them for the night. And apparently... tonight you had been chosen.

Your feet managed to carry you across the throne room, heart in your throat as all eyes stayed glued to you, everyone curious as to what would become of you.

You regretted being one of them, before tonight.

Stopping at the edge of the dias their thrones rested upon, you kept your eyes trained at their feet, waiting for their demand.

"Look up, dear," your High Queen said, and your eyes snapped to hers instinctively. Her blue eyes shined warmly, an inviting smile on her lips. "What is your name, darling?"

"Y/N, my Queen," you answered, cursteying as elegantly as you could.

"Come here, Y/N," Feyre said, patting her lap twice, a demand you would be foolish to refuse. You stepped onto the dias and up to her throne, your eyes darting nervously between her and your King as you approached them. Her lap was warm through the sheer silk of her dress, her bare arms turning you so your legs dangled onto her mate, heels landing in his lap.

They were even more stunning close up, impossibly beautiful, but it was Feyre who held your attention, her warm eyes and full pink lips so difficult to look away from. When you did, you'd inevitably be drawn back in by a breath or a shift of her head. And their scents - a delicious combination of lilac and pears, citrus and sea that had your head feeling fuzzy, unable to keep your thoughts straight for more than a few seconds at a time.

This was far different from what they normally did - usually their plaything of the evening would sit at their feet, holding their wine glasses until they decided to retire for the night, taking the unlucky soul with them.

"Mm, but you're not any little soul," Feyre whispered in your ear, cheeks flushing when you remembered they could hear your every thought.

Your High King snapped his fingers, and a servant brought over a tray of chocolate dipped fruits.

"Rhys," he said authoritatively as he picked up a raspberry, holding it to your lips. "Open, but don't bite," Rhys instructed you, placing the sweetened fruit on your tongue, letting the pad of his thumb drag across your bottom lip. "Now, do the same for both of us, darling."

You nodded nervously, plucking a piece of chocolate covered pineapple from the platter and placing it on Rhys's tongue, his lips wrapping around your fingers. Heat rushed to your core as you pulled your hand away, grabbing a small strawberry next. Your eyes turned to Feyre, part of you delighted to see her lips already parted, pink tongue sticking out from between them. The berry was placed on her tongue, her painted lips also closing around your fingers as you pulled them away.

Bite down, Rhys's midnight voice spoke into your mind, and you followed the command without a thought.

Heat rushed through you as you did, the perfect couple next to you doing the same. Two golden threads tugged on your heart at the same time, making themselves known and solidifying in an instant, a gasp leaving you at the overwhelming feeling of it.

"Bow to your new queen," Rhys - The High King, in this moment - demanded, and in a wave of movement, each citizen gathered, regardless of Court or status, bowed deeply, waiting for their rulers' command to stand.

But it never came - Feyre had already winnowed the three of you to a bedroom, the mating frenzy already beginning to take its course.

🩵💜🤍💜🩵

[jacksdreams]

If Rhys was truly the evil dictator he would've wiped out all the high lords while they were in shock after Amrantha's death ( as he's the most powerful of them all) , kidnapped feyre and crown himself the High King of Prythian

🎨: vinc_ry , bronwyn.psd

[stargirlfeyre]

People upset that Feysand made a death bargain as if Rhys wouldn’t destroy the world (and himself) if Feyre was no longer in it anyway.

Death bargain or not, Rhys does not and is not living in a world without Feyre. There is no life for him without her.

[court-of-secrets]

“rhys would be a bad high king!!”

🎶💖🎶🫸🥰🫷🎶💖🎶

I actually can’t hear you over my love for my husband

[colorlesschristmastree]

People in this fandom are aware that the Dusk Court is Rhysand’s by blood and birthright, right? He is the only one whose ancestors are Fionn and Theia, his connection to the dusk court and prison is explicit and in the text, not just speculation or a theory.

That land isn’t just some prize to be thrown around to your favorite supporting character, it is apart of Rhysand’s territory and Rhysand’s ancestry and lineage. It is an important piece of the story that will lead to Rhysand and Feyre becoming High King and Queen of Prythian. And even if that plot doesn’t happen that land is still his by blood, why would it wind up with some other character?

[unforgivenyunjin]

Your personal feelings about who should be High King and Queen does not change who Sjm actually set up for the role.

[feysandsrealm]

Rhysand Week

Modern Rhysand Aesthetic

Can you just imagine him in our modern world? I just know he’d embody that “old money aesthetic”. I feel like he’d definitely be a CEO of his family’s business that has been up and running for centuries. He’d just LOVE expensive cars, private jets, bourbon, cigars, chess, watches and anything to do with dark luxury (and Feyre lol)!!!

What do you think a modern Rhys would look like?

[l14099l]

The amount of crazy, senseless people in this fandom that are obsessed over Feyre and Rhys.

They live with these two in they minds and blogs 24/7. Feysand is that powerful!

Long live the future high queen and high king of prythian!

[dorkyvondork]

I haven’t published fanfiction in such a long time so I’m quite rusty. This is also my first time writing ACOTAR! So if you read this at all, drop a like! If you like it, let me know your thoughts!

The Almighty High King of Prythian

Summary: The cauldron keeps calling to Rhysand, and there’s only so long that the High Lord can keep avoiding its whispers. It’s time for him to fulfill the prophecy he’s been avoiding — he must become high king. Before anyone else can take his crown from him.

xxx —> next chapter

Chapter 1: Fatum

Rhysand couldn’t sleep. His mind kept flashing to those three weapons that Nesta had made.

 

A dagger, a sword, and a great sword. Ataraxia, Nesta had named it. Inner Peace. It was a beautiful weapon, even if it didn’t like him, and it had a beautiful name to match. The dagger had been given to Eris, the simpering fool, but the swords remained in their possession.

 

He also kept thinking about what Amren had told him.

 

”With these three blades, you could make yourself High King.”

 

His stomach churned at the thought of it. Him, high king. He’d be no better than the monster his people in the hewn city already saw him as, forcing his friends in the other courts to kneel before him. He’d be just like—

 

He cut the thought short before she could be mentioned, even if only in his mind.

 

…

 

He’s not getting any sleep tonight. Huffing to himself, Rhysand carefully untangled himself from Feyre, mentally apologizing to his mate. He slipped on a pair of undergarments and trousers, and silently exited the room.

 

They had converted the room next to there into a nursery, and Rhysand couldn’t stop himself from peeking his head inside.

 

Nesta’s prized possession, her Symphonia, was softly playing music for the babe to sleep to. She always allowed them to borrow it on the rare occasions she decided to spend the night at the River house with Cassian. Nyx loved it.

 

Just another reason that Rhysand was forever in her debt.

 

Nyx was sound asleep in his cradle, wings splayed out every which way. Rhysand smiled at the sight, his heart swelling with so much love and so much pride.

 

Silent as a whisper, Rhysand walked away from the nursery. Maybe some tea would help him? Mind made up, the high lord made for the kitchen.

 

He sifted through every cabinet and cupboard in the kitchen, but he couldn’t find his special blend of tea Madja made him. It always knocked him out. Did he somehow leave it back at the house of winds…?

 

“You’re up late,” a voice remarked, catching Rhysand completely off guard. He spun around, magic ready to be released, body tense and wings vanishing, but it was just Nesta. She leaned elegantly against a counter sipping from a mug.

 

“I could say the same thing to you, Nesta,” Rhysand replied. He focused on his shoulders, making them loosen at least a fraction. It was just Nesta. Nesta meant no harm to him or his family.

 

Which she was part of, he reminded himself. Nesta was Feyre’s older sister, and had more than made up for their past disagreements.

 

“I couldn’t sleep,” Nesta admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. It wasn’t very often Nesta wore her hair down— it added to her beauty, made her look less lethal and more soft. Or perhaps it just reminded him of his Feyre.

 

“Me neither,” Rhysand agreed. “What are you drinking?”

 

Nesta shot him a glance, gripping her mug the slightest bit tighter. A frown tugged at Rhys’s lips at the gesture. Perhaps his exhaustion made him sound accusatory— he trusted Nesta to stay sober. He didn’t mean it that way.

 

“Coffee,” she finally replied. “Would you like some?”

 

Rhysand blinked, surprised at the gesture. “If it’s no trouble, I’d love some.”

 

~~~~

 

A few minutes later, Rhysand found himself sitting in one of the living rooms with Nesta, a small fire blazing in the fire pit. The fire crackles, and Rhysand could hear Nesta take a deep breath. He saw her force herself to relax. His heart ached for her.

 

“What’s keeping you awake, Rhys?” Nesta asked. She took a sip from her mug; it one of the many gifts he had bought for her. It was a hand painted mug, black with red thorny vines. He bought it for her the moment he saw it.

 

Rhysand pondered the question for a moment. He owed the eldest Archeron his life and his court, but he couldn’t help but to be wary of her anyways. Eventually, after a scorching hot sip of coffee, he decided how to answer. “I’ve been having flashbacks.” A vague answer, but not untrue. Nesta nodded once, though remained silent. “Amren thinks the cauldron has chosen me for something.”

 

Nesta’s eyebrows raised slightly at the mention of her friend. “What did Amren say to you?” Her voice was full of concern, but she put no malice into her words. She knew just as well as anyone that communicating politely wasn’t Amren’s strong suit.

 

“Nothing bad,” Rhysand waved a hand as if to dismiss the thought from her mind. “But nothing I want to hear, either.” Nesta waited again, setting her mug on a coaster Elain had crocheted, so Rhysand opened up just the slightest bit. “She thinks I’m… destined for something greater.”

 

Nesta’s eyebrows shot up fully at that. “Something greater?” She echoed. “Is there anything greater than being High Lord?”

 

“Unfortunately, there is.” Rhysand could feel a headache coming on at the thought of it.

 

“Such as…?”

 

Rhysand swallowed. “Being high king.”

 

Nesta froze. She took a deep breath, held, and released it. A memory must have bubbled to the surface. He wondered what. “She wants you to be high king?” She finally asked.

 

“She thinks I’m meant to be high king, that the cauldron chose me.”

 

“When did she tell you this?” Nesta’s voice was calm, Rhys could tell she was trying to keep it neutral.

 

After his magic had unsheathed Nesta’s weapons, full of powerful magic. Nesta’s magic. He could picture the memory as though he were still living it. “A while ago,” he said instead. Nesta nodded slowly. “All I want is to stay in my court with my family and my son. He’s only a month old!” This was the most vulnerable he had ever been with Nesta Archeron, second only to when Feyre had just given birth.

 

“Perhaps you could wait until he’s more grown,” Nesta suggested.

 

“…I might not be able to,” Rhysand admitted, slumping fully into the couch.

 

“…what do you mean?”

 

“Amren told me the cauldron might not be willing to wait. That if I don’t act, it will extend the offer to someone else. Someone like Beron, or Tamlin.” He paused, “or someone worse.” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. He could see the impact they had in her immediately. Her body went rigid, her breath catching in her throat.

 

“That can’t happen.” Nesta said quickly, body quivering. He couldn’t help but to wonder who she thought of in that moment. She turned to face him fully, her blue-grey eyes almost looking like they had lost their shine. “Rhysand, you have to become high king. Before anyone else can.”

 

The words hung in the air until they fizzled out of existence. The silence that followed was even louder.

[mostlypetty30]

Thanks for the Reminder Alis

Chapter 32 of ACOTAR Alis mentions that Amarantha is the High Queen of Prythian. She had Prythian held under one ruler.

Of course, you know in SF Chapter 42 it's brought up as if Amarantha didn't already hold that title once and the push for Rhys to be made High King and Feyre High Queen is made calling it a necessary evil. (You know the one where Az and Cas backed Amren on it being a good idea).

Yeah, the IC isn't beating the allegations of being power hungry with that one. Yikes!

Side-ish Note: As much as I hate the nearly direct use of Arthurian legend here. I have a HC that the only reason Rhys doesn't want to be High King is because he doesn't want Feyre and Cassian to hook up and kill him. Maybe that's why he was so forceful at getting Cass and Nesta together.

Another note: Fionn winning against other Fae who were already fighting over territory and uniting them under a king who controls a powerful made sword in a world of Daemati with a 1000 years of peace until his wife and general killed him taking his most powerful and precious weapons just doesn't sit well. Maybe it's because the NC hordes similar things...who said that!

One last note: Yes I wish Rhys was evil. He'd be so fun. SJM has a lot of fun evil characters that just get killed with such little page time and it's criminal! Also, TAR Rhys and start of MAF Rhys was a bit more fun until he shifted to more Good Rhys. Do I think he will end up evil in the series? No, sadly I don't. The set up is there, but she never executes well. I just like having fun with these thoughts.

[feyrescourt]

Just an FYI, Rhys has never done anything wrong a day in his life.

[potatoplace]

The Tradition: A Lesson in Courting

Alpha!HighKing+Queen!Feysand x Omega!Tamlin'sDaughter!Reader

C1 | A Lesson In Courting | C3 | Chapter Moodboard

Poly!ACOTAR x Reader Masterlist | Series Masterlist | AO3 Link

Summary: Your official invitation to the quinquennial courting season arrives, and your mother does her best to prepare you as well as ease your nerves.

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, I think that's all

Words: ~5.2k

Author's Note: yaaay I finally got it out! I hope you guys like this one, it's mainly an introduction to how the season will work with some Tamlin/Lilia cuteness sprinkled in, and a fun treat at the end with our favies 🤭 let me know what you think!! Comments keep me motivated ☺️

18+ only pls

🤍🌸🤍🌸🤍

“I already drew a bath for you, so scurry on in there,” your mother said as she watched you place your neatly folded stack of nesting materials back in your closet. “And don’t worry about doing your hair, I’ll do it once you’re done,” she added.

“Alright, mama, I’ll be quick,” you yawned as you went into your bathroom, shutting the door softly behind you. As promised, the tub was filled with hot water, inviting tendrils of steam drifting upwards. Your nightgown was stripped off and dropped in your hamper, along with your undergarments before you slid into the water, sighing at the perfect temperature.

As much as you wanted to soak and enjoy the heat warming your skin, you knew that your mother was antsy to start preparing you for the season ahead. So you dunked your hair in the water and washed it quickly, though with its length it could only be done in so little time. Next you picked up a cloth and poured soap on it, working it into a lather before you began to scrub your skin gently. It took you no more than twenty minutes to haul yourself out of the bath, water dripping off your hair and skin onto the soft mat that covered the marble floor. You’d just managed to pull on your robe when Lilia knocked on the door.

“Breakfast is here, dear!”

You opened the door while using a towel to scrunch your hair and spotted your mother at your vanity, placing a cup of tea down for you. She patted the chair at the vanity, and you crossed the room to sit down. Lilia snagged the towel from you and pulled your hair over the end of the chair, and set to work drying the length of it. It nearly reached your waist now, though most people wouldn’t know that. You only let your hair down in front of family, a tradition passed down on your mother’s side of the family. One day- one day, you would show your hair to another. To your alpha. Your parents had given you a choice in continuing to honor the tradition once you’d grown old enough to manage your own hair, and you hadn’t hesitated.

You had found it so very romantic to keep your hair bound in front of all but your blood, to save the way you looked with your hair loose for the one you would spend forever with. It was one of the few things you could control even in your heats, as you were well aware of the overwhelming need that could easily have you giving yourself to an alpha physically without so much as a thought. But keeping your hair bound even in those moments was easy, and it gave you an extra layer of security during your heats.

And just thinking about the way your eventual partner would look when you took your hair down in front of them for the first time… It was enough to make your heart race.

“I was thinking we could practice the hairstyles you’ll want to wear during the season,” your mother said once your hair was dry, pulling you from your thoughts. She gently ran a brush through your locks, working out any tangles with ease.

“I loved the braid you did for my birthday this year, it looked so pretty with the cherry blossoms,” you replied, reaching for your tea. It was the perfect temperature, and your favorite blend of orange and cinnamon.

“Then we’ll do that one today,” she smiled, already beginning to twist your hair into the correct pattern.

“So… You said that you met papa at your own courting season?” you asked, grinning when a light flush rose to your mother’s cheeks.

“Yes, we did. Seventy-five years ago in one week,” she said dreamily as her hands worked your hair into a loose plait. “I was like you, I’d had no intentions of settling down at only twenty, but when I saw your father…” she paused her movement, looking off into the distance. “It was love at first sight for me, he was just so handsome, and so polite with everyone he interacted with. And I’d never thought he would fall for me, for someone who came from an untitled family in Summer.”

“But he did,” you giggled, loving how in love your mother was with your father.

“That’s right, he did! The first night we’d only met during a dance, and I’d thought that it would be the last time he interacted with me. But the next night at dinner, he brought me a plate of food and a goblet of wine immediately, and we talked for hours,” Lilia gushed as she tied off your braid. “He only left my side once he saw that there were other alphas waiting to speak with me, but by then I already knew that he was my alpha.”

You grabbed your box of enchanted flowers and opened it, holding it so she could grab the small blooms to place in your hair. “When did you know that he knew, though?”

“That night,” she giggled. “I was only half paying attention to the other alphas that came to dine with me, and I watched Tamlin sit in his chair and watch me and me alone. Of course, I learned I was truly correct when I returned to my room that night, and an invitation to lunch the next day and a beautiful red rose from him was waiting on my nightstand. Now, what do you think?”

You turned in your chair, twisting so that you could see the back of the braid. It looked perfect, a loose plait with cherry blossoms tucked all down the middle. “I love it! It’s as pretty as I remembered, thank you mama,” you beamed. “Now, you’d mentioned breakfast?”

Lilia chuckled and nodded her head. “Yes, Loren brought something up for us so we don’t have to dine with the boys. Your father would have been blushing and stammering while I told you how we met, I’m sure,” she tittered, and you joined in. He was wonderful at showing his love, that was true, but he did always blush when your mother complimented him.

You stood from the vanity and grabbed your teacup, then followed her to the two person dining table in the far left corner of your room. A lovely selection of croissants, sliced fruit, and breakfast meats was set on the table, and the two of you tucked in.

“So,” Lilia started once you’d both finished your meals. “I’d like to spend most of our time today getting you acquainted to the schedule you’ll be following for two weeks, and if we have time, we can start on your wardrobe.”

You were tempted to ask if you could skip straight to the wardrobe part, but refrained. You were certain that your mother had the better plan. After all, you’d be packing for two weeks, and you could spend days picking out that many dresses, when you have the goal of impressing an entirely new court in mind. “That sounds lovely, mama.”

“Wonderful! You can go ahead and get dressed, and we’ll walk down to the gardens. I think a bit of fresh air would be nice,” she said, standing to leave the room. “I’ll be right outside, Y/N.”

You nodded and watched her leave before standing and making your way to your closet. Your hands found a pink dress with a sweetheart neckline and slightly see-through sleeves that came in to cuff your wrists. It would certainly be suitable for spending the day in the gardens under the spring sun, even if a cool autumn breeze swept through as it ended at your ankles. You slipped out of your robe and slid into a pair of panties before grabbing a simple shift. You shimmied it over your shoulders, then did the same with the dress, being careful to not disturb your hair. You grabbed a pair of white flats, sliding them onto your feet as you walked to the door.

Lilia was leaning against the wall across from your door when you opened it, standing straight when you walked out. You took her arm when she extended it, the two of you making your way to the gardens at a leisurely pace.

There was a teapot waiting on the table when you arrived, and as soon as you’d sat down you reached for the teapot, grasping its handle a moment before your mother could. You poured her a cup of tea first with a grin on your face before pouring your own and setting the teapot back down.

“As you now know, the courting season lasts two weeks. During those two weeks you will be staying in the High King and Queen’s Court, in a wing reserved for omegas only. The door to the wing bars all alphas excluding the High King and Queen themselves, so there are no worries about the safety of omegas,” your mother explained, and you let out a breath of relief. At least you needn’t worry about an alpha sneaking into your room at night, that knowledge would surely put you more at ease in an unfamiliar place. “It’s quite the blessing, actually, to have that privacy. Your father will be your chaperone, and I'm sure it will be nice to have the occasional break from him. He gets rather antsy in their court, you see.”

“Ah. And is there… Is there any reason that he gets more agitated there?” you prodded, wanting to know just why your father had a bad relationship with your High King and Queen.

“That is not my story to tell, Y/N, I’m sorry. But I will say that he has valid reasons to feel uneasy,” Lilia replied smoothly. “Now, back to the season. The first night is undoubtedly the most important of them all. The first impression that you make on not only every alpha in the room, but every member of their court is extremely important. However, I recommend dressing in the simplest gown you take.”

You furrowed your brow at the suggestion. “But wouldn’t dressing in your most lavish gown make a better impression?"

"Technically, yes. However I believe that being in a simple yet elegant dress that accentuates your body will have you standing out more than the other omegas. They’ll likely be dressed in their finest clothing the first night, but as the weeks wear on, they’ll wear simpler outfits than their first appearance. Whereas you will have come in as a fresh bloom, only to be adorned further as time goes on.”

You nodded, her logic making sense, though there was a chance other omegas would follow the same strategy. Not that you’re in competition with them, you just… Like to make a good impression.

“Now obviously we’ll decide which dress you’ll wear on the first night later. It’s customary to bring a gift for the High King and Queen, usually one made by the omega themselves. I’m sure we’ll be able to figure something out in the short time we have, you’ve always been very good with gift giving.” You preened at the compliment, knowing you always put extra thought into each gift you gave. “And once every omega has been introduced to the court, the dancing begins. You’ve already learned most of them, but Lucien has agreed to help you practice them and learn one or two new ones over the next week.”

“I’m sure he jumped at the chance for it,” you giggled. “Is he planning to attend the season? I can’t see him passing up an opportunity to dance.”

“I believe he is, his mate is still an unclaimed omega. He usually likes to attend to spend a bit of extra time with her.”

That’s right. Your uncle had been trapped in a cycle with his mate, his intended omega for over a century now, but he never complained about her to you. Instead he’d waxed poetically about her, how he hoped that someday it would be written in the stars for them to be together. You personally found it romantic, the way he was waiting so patiently for her to be ready, though your father had expressed his concerns to you about it one night when he’d had a tad to much to drink.

“So I’ll have two chaperones,” you pointed out, earning a laugh from your mother.

“Very true, Y/N. Now, the first night is strictly dancing, there’s very little time for conversations. It’s more for getting a cursory feel for each available alpha, to see if there are any that pique your interest. A newer tradition for alphas is to slip a coin with their family name and court into your hand if they are interested in you, and you’ll keep a pouch tied to your wrist so you won’t lose any of them. The second day is much more involved- omegas eat breakfast together each morning, and I personally would recommend trying to make a few friends. I still visit and write to a friend in the Autumn Court that I met during my own season.”

“But what if… What if they’re mean?” you asked, voice full of nerves. You’d only interacted with a few omegas in your life, and all of them had been kind. But you were their princess, and as much as you wanted for it to not color your interactions with them, it must in some way.

Your mother’s blue eyes were sympathetic as she grasped your hand in hers. “Most likely, there will be one omega who is less than fond of you. But most of them are like you- nervous and in a new situation, and looking for kindness in those around them. If you are kind to them, they will be kind to you, just as the people in Spring are. I know we’ve kept you a bit sheltered, but I’d love for you to use this opportunity to broaden your horizons. I promise that you won’t regret it,” she said sincerely, her words instilling you with a sense of confidence. You rarely meet new people, but you always try to put your best foot forward.

And you can keep trying, starting with this courting season.

“Alright, I will do my best, for you. What happens after breakfast each morning?”

Your mother smiled broadly, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “Omegas are given a few hours of free time, either to spend in privacy, or to explore the court a bit and have a conversation with an alpha or two. I was personally a fan of the gardens they have, and I have a feeling that’s where you’ll spend most of your free time,” she giggled. “After that comes lunch, which will be spent with an alpha who’s interested in you. You may get several invitations for one day, but I’m sure your father will help you choose wisely. He knows quite a bit about the other alphas in the court, and how they behave when not under the watchful eye of the High King and Queen. Most afternoons you’ll be encouraged to have a soak in the heated pools the court houses, but I would stay away from the mixed pool, which allows alphas and omegas to relax together. I do not think it’s worth the risk, and found it much more relaxing to spend time among other omegas.”

You made a face at the mention of bathing with others, let alone alphas. “Do most people wear bathing suits in the pools, at least? I don’t think I could handle bathing nude with so many people, omega or not,” you said while shaking your head.

“The vast majority of omegas remain clothed in some way, and clothing is required in the mixed pools, to keep any misunderstandings or scandals from happening,” Lilia reassured you, a small smile on her lips as she patted your arm. “In the evenings everyone gathers for dinner in the throne room, though you won’t be allowed to grab your own food. Interested alphas will approach one at a time with a plate of food and drinks to share, and you’ll get to have conversations with them for as long as both of you desire. If they really like you, they’ll ask you for a dance, at which point you may either accept or decline.”

“Decline? Isn’t that… rude, though?” All your life you’d never rejected a fae’s offer for a dance, even if you would’ve rather returned to your rooms early for the night than dance with them.

Your mother shook her head, wisps of blonde hair shaking around her face. “No, the season is one of the few times it is considered polite to reject a dance offer. It’s seen as a kind way to inform someone of your disinterest and not use up more of their time, and it also frees yourself for suitors that you are more interested in.”

“I suppose that makes sense…”

“Be sure to remember that your feelings toward an alpha matter more than being polite, Y/N.” She said seriously. “They also matter more than any alpha’s feelings, until you’re claimed. Don’t get lost in their scent until you’re sure that you want them as a person, my dear.”

You couldn’t help the water that pooled in your eyes at her sincerity, how fiercely she wanted you to have a wonderful alpha to call your own. “I won’t, mama, I promise.”

Her eyes were misty as well when she nodded and said, “Good. Now… Ah! On the seventh day there is an outing to the countryside. It’s much more relaxed than the other courting events, as each omega lays out a blanket to sit on with alphas that are interested in them.”

“Like a picnic?” you asked, envisioning yourself sitting so casually with alphas that you barely know. When you visited the villages in Spring, you mainly interacted with the beta and omega crowds, seeing as you felt more at ease with them.

“Yes, sweetie. Most omegas choose to send out invitations to the alphas that they are interested in getting to know in a more casual setting, usually three to four. Though I only invited one,” Lilia giggled, pink dusting her cheeks.

“I hope I get lucky like you did, mama, even if it isn’t this season,” you sighed dreamily. While you’d never fully entertained the idea of having an alpha aside from when you were in heat, you had always wanted a family of your own. A husband or wife who loved you and you them, and tiny little babies to nurture and protect until the end of time.

“I’m certain that you will, Y/N. You are a lovely young omega, and I am proud to call you my daughter. Anyone, alpha or not, would be blessed to have you as their partner,” she said, grasping one of your hands firmly when your eyes went misty again. “Now, we’ve covered the basics of the season, and I think it’s time that we start on your wardrobe.”

“That sounds perfect to me, mama.”

The two of you stood from your chairs and began making your way inside, walking past the staircase and into your mother’s sewing room. You came to a stop at the doorway you were never allowed to pass through, even now that you’re grown. Yet your mother slid a key into the lock, opening the door and passing through, looking back and beckoning to you as if you’d always been welcome in here. You stepped over the threshold, faelights coming alive when you did.

Your jaw dropped. Everywhere you looked, silk, tulle, chiffon and lace surrounded you. Rack upon rack were filled with evening dresses, day dresses, nightgowns- anything you could ever need. An entire wall was taken up by four large chests, each holding five drawers.

“Welcome to your trousseau, Y/N,” your mother said with pride, gently pushing you towards one of the racks. Your hands went out instinctively to feel the fabrics between your fingers, silk slipping over them like water.

“I- this is mine?” you asked incredulously. When would you possibly wear all of these? You were only attending the season for two weeks, meaning that you would need at most three dozen dresses, but if you had to guess there were at least five dozen dresses hanging, along with whatever was in the chests.

“Of course, my dear! I started parts of your trousseau when you were born, just putting away little memories for you to show to your own children, someday,” Lilia explained. She kneeled in front of one of the chests, and you followed suit. “I even… I know we haven’t talked much about what you want for your future yet, Y/N, but I started making clothes for your future little ones when you were born.” Your mother opened one of the drawers, revealing tiny onesies in every color of spring, from the deepest greens to bright pinks and yellows. “My mother did the same for me, and I wanted you to have something of me to take into your new life, though I know you’ll come visit me. I saved your first onesie for you to put on your little ones, if you’d like.”

“If I’d like?” you asked, tears in the corners of your eyes. “I would love to have my babies wear it, mama. Thank you so much,” you cried, and let her pull your face into her shoulder. You gave yourself a minute to be overwhelmed by the love your mother held for you, the care and effort she had put into this surprise. “You mentioned my wardrobe?” you sniffled, smiling at her.

“That I did, love. And as you can see, you have quite a selection to choose from, if I do say so myself,” Lilia giggled.

“I suppose we should get started then!” You pulled yourself up and cautiously approached the racks of clothing again before Lilia chuckled.

“Go on, pick one! You’ll get to try them all on before the week is up.”

You nodded, and ran your hands over one of the racks. You looked away, letting your hand grasp a random dress.

Four hours later and three hairstyle changes by your mother, and you’d found it.

The perfect dress for you to be introduced to Court in.

It was made of a cream colored silk, with princess seams running down the chest and stopping at your waist, leading into a skirt that flowed beautifully when you spun around. The square neckline was modest enough for your comfort, and the added lace on the end of the butterfly sleeves and ruffle over your chest was perfect. The back was tied together with a matching silk ribbon, and overall the dress felt so… you. It made you look so feminine and sweet, and would be comfortable enough to dance in for hours.

“This is the one, mama,” you said as you smoothed your hands over your stomach, the fabric soft beneath your fingers.

“You look beautiful, Y/N. You’re sure to take every alpha’s breath away,” Lilia said tearily as she watched you twirl in the mirror, the skirt moving like water around you.

“You think so?” you asked hopefully when you turned to her, a bright smile on your lips.

“We know so, Y/N,” the voice of your father said behind you, and you spun to face him. “You look perfect. My darling daughter, all grown up,” Tamlin said hoarsely, but his eyes were overflowing with love, glistening with tears.

“Thank you, papa,” you said softly, walking to him and throwing your arms around his neck. “I’m only this perfect because of both of you.”

Tamlin chuckled at that. “If you say so, dear,” he said as he released you from his hold. “Are you girls hungry? Dinner is ready, if you are.”

Just as he finished speaking, Lilia’s stomach rumbled softly, eliciting laughter from all three of you.

“I’ll be out in a moment, I just need to change out of my dress,” you said, pushing your father from the room.

“Alright, we’ll wait to walk down with you,” Lilia replied, following Tamlin out into the main sewing room and shutting the door behind her.

You turned back to the mirror, admiring yourself one more time. You certainly looked the image of Spring in this dress- pure and full of hope, ready to start a new life. One minute. One minute, you allowed yourself to dream about the possibility of meeting your future alpha in this dress.

A happy sigh left your lips at the thought, before you started undressing.

🤍🌸🤍🌸🤍

Dinner had been wonderful as always, with the addition of Lucien teasing you about how much he was going to run you ragged during your dance lessons over the next week. You had merely shaken your head, knowing that you’d danced all day before, every Calanmai up until dusk.

Now though, you were back in the gardens.

You were currently contemplating what gift to create and present to your High King and Queen, wishing that you knew what they would appreciate. Your hands were busy pushing magic into the few lilac roses that had yet to bloom, a practice you were familiar enough with to let your thoughts drift to other things.

Should you give something related to Spring?

Or something only you could make? What would that even be?

Would they prefer something to eat, or would that be seen as rude- as if you were implying they did not have enough to eat?

What about something that you’d embroidered? Though you weren’t the most skilled with needlework yet, having preferred to hone your blooming abilities first.

The thoughts raced around your head for the entire hour you spent outside, the sky going from a bright orange to dark blues and purples, and you still had yet to decide on anything.

But at least your roses were fully bloomed, and would stay that way for weeks. Maybe you’d be back in time to see them wilt, if they stayed as stubborn as they usually did.

You sighed and stood from where you’d been kneeling, brushing dirt and blades of grass from the skirt of your dress. Slowly you began making your way back to the manor, nearly ready to turn in for the night. You came to a halt in the small courtyard in the center of the rose gardens, letting the sound of babbling water from the fountain quiet your mind, your eyes falling shut without a thought.

Your eyes snapped open- perfect!

The courtyard you were standing in had always been a favorite spot of yours, it’s beauty unmatched. The cherry blossom trees encircling it were almost constantly raining down pretty pink petals, and the clusters of flowers scattered about were beautiful. Along with the fountain and the ornate wooden bench, it would make for a lovely diorama depicting the season of spring.

Of course you would need your mother’s help for the flowing water part, and possibly the help of one of the village’s glassblowers, but you would be able to create most of it yourself, if your parents thought it a good gift for your High King and Queen.

Satisfied now that you had an idea, you turned and made your way to the manor. Only a few minutes later and you were shutting your bedroom door behind you. You went through your night routine quickly, wanting nothing more than to sink between your sheets and drift off to sleep.

Your nerves were quieter today, and it took you no more than five minutes to fall asleep once your head had hit the pillow.

🩵🌸🤍🌸💜

Grass was soft underfoot as you walked through the gardens, eyes lifted to the night sky.

The stars were beautiful tonight, glistening more brightly than you had ever seen them. You didn’t bother looking where you were walking- after all, you’d practically been raised between these hedges, so many days passed by playing hide-and-seek with your parents and uncle.

And when you bumped into something- someone, you were pulled from the magnetism of the stars, your cheeks heated as you apologized.

“It’s nothing, darling,” the female chuckled, wrapping her arms around you. “You found me! I’m surprised you did so quickly, did someone use the stars to help her?” she asked, fingers ghosting over your sides, pulling a giggle from you.

“No, I just thought they were pretty tonight,” you said, breathless now that you’d seen her.

She was far prettier than any stars in the sky.

“Thank you, darling,” she giggled, and you blushed even harder when you realized that you must have spoken that aloud. “Come now, let’s find Rhys. He’s hiding somewhere in here.”

The female pulled you by the hand, leading you further into the hedges, stopping abruptly every now and then, your chest bumping into her back. It took her all of five minutes to lead both of you to a male, his back turned to you and head tilted to the sky. The female nudged you forward, an encouraging smile on her face when you looked back at her.

Nervously, you approached the man on your tiptoes, poking him gently on the shoulder. He whirled around, arms encircling you before you could move away.

“Aha! I’ve caught you now, little one,” the male, Rhys, chuckled, burying his face in your neck, nose nudging your braid.

“It’s the other way around, Rhysie,” the female giggled, her chest pressing to your back as they held you between their bodies.

“Uh-uh, Feyre, I caught her first, all our little omega did was tap my shoulder. So I win,” Rhys said smugly, a satisfied grin on his face when you looked up at him- absolutely stunning, just as Feyre was. “See, even Y/N thinks I won. Don’t you, darling?”

With those violet eyes looking into yours, it was all you could do to nod in agreement.

“Fine,” Feyre sighed, her hands drifting to grasp your hips. “You need to give him his reward for winning, Y/N.”

“Re-reward?” you asked, confused.

“Mhm, for winning I get a kiss from our sweet omega,” Rhys gloated, puckering his lips invitingly. “Please?” he asked with a slight pout, and you bit your lip, fighting the grin that was threatening to cross them.

You pushed up on your tiptoes, planting your lips to his skin.

“Not fair,” he whined as your lips left his cheek, a grin fully formed now.

“Maybe,” you giggled. “But you still got a kiss, didn’t you?”

He narrowed his eyes playfully. “Oh, I see. We’re teasing each other now, aren’t we?” You nodded, and felt Feyre do the same, her golden brown hair tickling your shoulder. “Alright, just remember that you started it, little one. Now, run. Let’s see how long it takes one of us to find you, and the first one gets a real kiss, on the lips.”

You were beaming as you freed yourself from their holds, not wasting a moment before taking off into the maze that you knew like the back of your hand.

🩵🌸🤍🌸💜

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria @meritxellao @twismare @wrenisrad @icey--stars @le-nottibianche @archerxnn @littlest-w01f @human169

Series Taglist: @that-one-small-world @mystirica-18 @lou-diaries

[jacksdreams]

Rhysand aesthetic

[stargirlfeyre]

I understand Rhys on a spiritual level because I’d nearly start a war over those eyes too💫.

Art🎨: gdeliarte

[nightbornfeyre]

Sarah J. Maas has said multiple times that Feysand was always meant to be. Rhysand was in the game from Chapter 1 of ACOTAR—it was always her intention and original plan. So I really don’t get why Rhysta and Feylin stans keep acting like that wasn’t the case.

What’s even weirder is that a lot of the people who ship Rhys with Nesta claim to hate Rhys, and a lot of those who ship Feyre with Tamlin claim to hate Feyre. But let’s be honest—you don’t actually hate Rhys. You just hate that he’s not with your favorite character or that he doesn’t behave the way your fave does. And you don’t hate Feyre—you’re just mad that she didn’t end up with your poor baby TamTam.

Feysand stans are one step away from being the worst. Why be so threatened with Rhysta?

If we saw the potential of the ship, why would we stoop lower with Feysand?

You Feysand girlies like to rant how we “hate” Feyre for shipping Rhys with Nesta when we’re complaining that if these characters are paired off differently, it would justify SJM’s writing considering how Feysand aren’t supposed to be original endgame in the series. It would even solve certain plot holes.

If you can’t handle that maybe all of you are just threatened that Rhysta is getting more popular now and you worry for Feyre losing relevancy because her character cannot stand on its own and is always attached with Rhysand. Sorry that your ship sinking. Advise for Feysand stans, don’t be an ass just because you don’t like or feel threatened over a ship.

Point by Point I will deconstruct this. First, nobody is "threatened" by R*ysta, we MOCK it. If you like crack ships whatever, but the seriousness of it? Rhys and Nesta would never happen. They aren't remotely interested in one another and they are incredibly different characters.

The reason why people say you hate Feyre is simply by how you make her behave in your fics (this goes for T*msand too) as the wife who's cluelessly getting cheated on or having Nesta flat out steal Feyre's character arc (becoming High Lady, mating bonds etc). Feyre does stand on her own, people love Feyre because she's an actual strong FMC.

Feysand was always end game, SJM has confirmed this several times. Even the newsletter people point to (where she says rewrote ACOMAF) says this:

The romantic arcs of ACOMAF were the same in the original draft and in the final version. That means Feysand was always intended, and you can see this in ACOTAR where she has Feyre draw stars on her draw, seeing a pool of starlight in The Spring Court, and the scene where Rhys felt the mating bond click into place.

Even in her live the other night SJM was saying she knew the romantic plot points of ACOTAR. You can dislike it, but it's a fact. Feysand was the intended endgame and F*ylin was the bait and switch.

Also Feyre and Rhys are overwhelmingly popular among the fanbase. Don't confuse people shouting loudly on tumblr to true popularity. Most people who read and enjoy the books like Feysand. Most people don't keep reading a book series where they hate the main characters.

Feysands aren't bitter over anything, because at the end of the day it's the canon ship. SJM talks them up all the time because she loves them and has written them a happy ending. Feysand and Pro Feyre accounts are MOCKING antis simply because you are wasting your time and energy. Nobody is forcing you to read ACOTAR or interact with the fandom.

If you don't like Feysand, Rhysand or Feyre these books are not for you. SJM is never going to go down "evil Rhys" path or make it so Feysand isn't canon. Feysand is always going to be canon and likely they will end up High King and Queen at the end of the series.

I suggest touching grass and finding a book series you enjoy.