ʰᵘⁿᵗʳᵉˢˢ / ʰᶦᵍʰ ˡᵃᵈʸ

remember   that   you   are   a   wolf and   you   cannot   be   caged.

[stareternyl]

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#STARETERNYL.ㅤan independentㅤ&ㅤmutually exclusive portrayal of 𝐅𝐄𝐘𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍 from a court of thorns and roses;ㅤextremely crossover friendly.ㅤ+21 only!ㅤspoilersㅤ+ㅤadult themes.

versesㅤ⋆ㅤpromoㅤ⋆ㅤpinterestㅤ⋆ㅤtags in search.

★ㅤ𝐄𝐗𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐒.

@firehcart.ㅤ( aelin galathynius. )

rules have been removed as i am currently inactive.

psd is by @pinkinnards.

song is by kelsey woods.

[stareternyl]

tiddy suckin but from azriel @brathaidh this time

LMAO you're hilarious and i love you and feyre is a blushing mess ty

[stareternyl]

tiddy suckin 😎

TIDDY 👏 SUCKIN 👏

[stareternyl]

paints my clown makeup...

[stareternyl]

Swaddling you and Feyre in my armslike babies to protect you from The Horrors tbh

Not Rhys tho he’s enticing Feyre to some mysterious sexy second location with the finesse of a male bird

🥺 pls ily

finesse of a maLE BIRD THOUGHSJFGHFHDJ always knew that motherfucker was a peacock. feyre needs him carnally. expeditiously. sos.

[ivymoonstudios]

feyre archeron

[stareternyl]

this is everything to me and has been for ages and is henceforth canon to my feyre. 🥺 feyre being able to conjure light outside of simply glowing, similar to how she can manipulate water into forming the shape of animals too ( ie. her wolves ) + butterflies. having a moment of joy and connection to the magic she was gifted.

[stareternyl]

i know i’ve said this in private chats a million times before but i don’t think i’ve ever posted about it on tumblr. you’re all going to cringe in unison, but guess what? it’s 2025, we embrace cringe, and feyre glows when she’s really happy.

[stareternyl]

character arc: corruption. so. you got worse. and i’m not entirely sure i can blame you for it. maybe it was in you all along, hidden and waiting, or maybe someone planted it in you and watched it grow. either way, it’s there now and you hold it in your fist like a second heart - this blood, this hunger, this thrill of having teeth and using them. perhaps you are right to. you are a mirror for the hardness of the world, and a mirror that we could all stand to look in more often. it’s hard to watch the bleeding bring about more blood, but it is undeniable that you are very good at wounding.

[stareternyl]

i’m going to say something very slutty. at some point in exploring her fashion tastes now that she has the means to, feyre discovers she enjoys suspenders with her trousers; when opting for a smarter type of casual, rather than her comfort of leggings and sweaters, you’ll see her in button up shirts (although the top few buttons are left open) with suspenders. come closer, this next part is very important: she masters the snap-removal of them in a way that makes her tits jiggle.

[stareternyl]

dropping kissies on the top or ur head

make out with me instead, coward.

[ofanswereddreams]

He'll always come when she calls for him. No matter where she is, when it is or why she's calling. It was true the moment he first saw her at Calanmai, and it's just as true now a couple of years into their marriage and partnership as rulers of the Night Court. Rhys doesn't quite know how he managed all of this workload before Feyre's arrival. Perhaps he'd done a poor job in some places. Or been operating at a constant low-level exhaustion. Certainly his life is more vibrant with Feyre by his side. Her curiosity, her kind heart, her sense of purpose, all of them a constant source of new adventures for the couple.

So when she asks for him and shows him a particular field near the Middle in her mind, Rhys cannot finish the meeting he is in quickly enough. Once he exits the Palace of Bone and Salt, he simply winnows over and strolls out of a puff of shadow, hands in his pockets. He pauses to look over at Morpheus and honor the stallion with a bow of his head. Then he approaches Feyre, eyes alight with amusement. "You know how I enjoy a dramatic entrance, my love," he drawls as he reaches her side and crouches down at eye level with her. "What is it about this particular field that so urgently requires our attention?"

[stareternyl]

a small smile quirked the edge of her mouth as feyre stayed on her knees in the grass; in her periphery she could see morpheus eyeing rhysand as he always did, forever the proud stallion that didn’t balk in fear from the high fae—never seeing them as predator. although out of eyesight, it was the tug in her stomach that feyre’s well of power wrapped around to gauge rhysand’s position, caressing the unfathomable bond that connected them beyond the limits of mind and body. delight sparks in her bright blue hues as their gazes connect and she drawls, a light tone to her remark, “you do have a reputation, after all.” if the pulse of magic under her knees wasn’t so urgent, so demanding, feyre would happily draw out the moment with taunts, but he redirects attention effectively. she beckons him, but he’s already beside her, their thoughts in tandem like he knew where she needed him to be.  

taking rhysand’s hands in hers, feyre presses his palms into the grass; spreading his fingers, the gaps between them fill with her own, and her eyelids shutter closed. with a deep inhale, she concentrates on the pulse that screams out to her—this tendril of power that seems loudest, strongest, in this meadow. she can feel it begin to spread in all manner of directions, like roots running deep underground, pulling and pushing this essence of magic on the continent of prythian. but even then, she feels the faintest whisper, resurfacing from waves to call to her like a siren song. it begs her to find it, wield it. “can you feel that?” feyre asks, her voice gentle. “does it call to you too?” her eyes open slowly, searching out rhysand instantly. 

[wandyrlust]

nesta's nose scrunched under the foreign touch, and she sniffled before her eyes fluttered open in confusion. her sleep-addled mind had forgotten where she was, wholly anticipating a leathery wing in her face as she came to. "what are you doing," she wondered rhetorically, the light accusation tumbling gracelessly off her tongue on instinct. but as her eyes came into focus, the face behind the soft touch was far more similar to her own. definitely not cassian. nesta cleared her throat and righted herself, quickly sobered by a light kink in her neck from her apparent choice of sleeping position—as well as the memory of why she'd fallen asleep watching her sister in the first place. "is everything alright?"

[stareternyl]

amusement danced on the planes of feyre’s face, much like the rays of sun that began to creep further into the room; muted as it was by the grogginess of recovery, it still shone, as nesta awoke and attempted to steel herself into something appropriate. “just me,” the youngest whispered in assurance while watching her sister adjust. “everything’s fine—well, someone forgot to close the blinds and now it’s our problem, but the world isn’t ending.” with a small smile, feyre’s arm drew back, pressure dropping into her elbows to pull her body up. she felt stiff, muscles aching as they were made anew under her bruise-blushed skin. thought etched its lines between her brows as her gaze cast down, inspecting what she could see of herself – the bandages, the stain of blood that the first bath hadn’t been able to rid – shame coated her tongue at the sight of it all. “i’m sorry. you should not have had to...” feyre trailed off; she didn’t even know the full extent of what nesta had done, only that she was still alive because of her. that's not how it’s supposed to be. feyre had always been the protector and she never wanted her sisters to sacrifice anything for her. 

[stareternyl]

a compilation of physicality headcanons, because i enjoy visualising feyre in a unique way that matches how i write her.

she has buck teeth. her two front teeth are slightly larger than average with a slim gap between them. if you pay closer attention, you’d notice she has an overbite. among other things*, she also has prominent freckles; a paint splatter across her nose and cheeks, the tops of her shoulders, and scattered across her body. the tattoos that she has on her hands and forearms cover a lot of scars from her usage of weaponry.

(it’s safe to assume her skin is anything but porcelain.)

poverty striking in her adolesence lead to her body developing differently. it isn’t until her “happily ever after” that feyre develops subtle curves and a soft stomach. a lover of strength training and hand-to-hand combat, it isn’t too obvious at first glance, although her arms show her muscles the most. she has hip dips and, post pregnancy, stretch marks on her thighs and stomach.

she has a septum piercing and is open-minded to more piercings.

*also mentioned in this post is that when feyre blushes, it reaches the tips of her fae ears. bonus points: if you really make her blush, it even goes down as far as the top of her chest.

[stareternyl]

wHAT

I SAID DO N'T WORRY AB OUT IT@!!!!!

[ofanswereddreams]

With Feyre's left hand lifted up to eye level, his gaze travels from her hand to the nose ring in question and back again. He can't help but think that the sapphire in the ring being so near her face will bring out the bluer tones in her storm-colored eyes. So when Feyre decides to purchase this one too, Rhys' mouth twists in a pleased smile.

Before he can say anything more (or get to pointing out another trinket she might like), the piercing artist calls Feyre's name from the back of the shop. He can feel the way she stiffens ever so slightly when her name is called, so he follows her towards the doorway. Rhys raises his brow in a silent question when she stops him with a hand on his forearm, but he acquiesces nonetheless. Of course. I'll just wait out here and try not to buy the whole store. He grins after her with teasing twinkle in his eyes as she steps away, his voice a silken smooth stroke down the walls of her mind. You'll do great, darling. I can't wait to see the finished result.

Rhys waits until she has disappeared behind the door before he returns to the counter where the shopkeeper has helpfully packaged up the second, sapphire studded nose ring for him. After Rhys has paid the total owed for both, she gives him a tiny bow and explains: "I'll just run this to the back room for my lady. She wanted to wear it home."

He nods and smiles at the female and gestures to the tray still atop the glass case. "Thank you. If you don't mind leaving this out, I'm still perusing." In the end, he manages to restrain his gifting impulse, primarily because he doesn't see anything else in this case that strikes him as something Feyre would like, so he returns to his seat along the wall by the door, waiting patiently for Feyre to emerge from the back room.

[stareternyl]

you better not is the chastise and final remark feyre sends down the bond before she disappears into a more private room. 

although clinical in a way that heightens her senses in alert, there’s something warm about the room. comfortable. intimate, even. she can smell the variety of balms and medicinal herbs that work with the small amounts of magic that stir in the air; it’s a wonder how they’ve managed to create this kind of artistic body modification and feyre will never stop being impressed by the ingenuity of the fae. once creatures she held such fear and disdain of, they were now her charges; her people, her culture. her heart would always be human, but this is where she belonged now.  

following directions and adjusting without complaint, feyre yielded control of the situation easily. the door had opened briefly with another attendant slipping in, a decorated box in her hand. it prompts a brief smile, but feyre learns the happiness and excitement is easily shadowed by the pain of this type of self-expression. uncharacteristically quiet, she watches the set up with curiosity, assuming the haste is due to her position and the buzz of nerves she could sense in the professional. “if it’s alright with you, i do have an additional request—something i wanted to keep a surprise, so i didn’t say it out there...” 

she can only pray to the mother that her soft squeak of “fuck!” didn’t reach rhysand’s ears. 

left alone for a moment by the blushing attendees, feyre follows their advisement to spray mist on her face, laced with a healing magic that lessens the red in her skin – and her eyes, embarrassingly so. just because they say she had no control of tears did not mean the high lady wasn’t mortified they had fallen. still, she was alone now, and it provided her with an opportunity to admire her new jewelry in front of the mirror, committing these images to memory. 

she kept them playing on loop as she exited the boudoir, heartbeat thrumming in her veins as feyre rejoined rhysand. her hand outstretched towards him and he responded without words, their bodies attuned to each other on a deeper level; as feyre’s fingers entwined with his, she looked up at him, expression that of faux innocence. “what do you think?” it appeared to those in front of them that she was simply showing off the new ring under her nose, but through the bond she sent another vision: of her a few moments earlier, shirt held high to expose her bare chest and the sparkling diamond barbells that now decorated both her nipples. 

[firehcart]

SHE HUGS HER TIL THEY BREAK FOR BREATH, and her own features remained alight with that same relieved smile that conveys how truly excited she is to see her, how excited she is to show her friend her home and kingdom, all earth and forest to contrast with the nightlight and stars of the Court she hails from. Still, releasing her now with an almost apologetic flash to her smile (and a slight windsweep to golden curls from the impromptu spin the smaller female has somehow managed to swerve her within ), Ashryver hues light with mischief now as gaze is swept over her own clothing. Almost as if reading that expression, a gentle laugh spills now, and warning follows.

“You can change after I’ve dragged you around the palace.”

Murmuring quietly, her frame fits into her friend’s side in turn now, an arm comfortably finding her slender waist to face the entourage of the Inner Court. Fae, but so very different to those who dwell within her own home ; almost as if prompted now, her own make their way within the courtyard as formality demands, and her smile deepens at the sight of her own territorial fae bastards, and their obvious envy of the impressive wings on each of the warriors before them now. As each are introduced, Queen of Terrasen nods in recognition, but she’d be lying if she didn’t admit she were all too impatient to begin her tour of her home, after months of writing to the other.

“Welcome to Orynth – and to Terrasen. Formalities aren’t necessary – any friend of Feyre is a friend of mine, and can call be Aelin.”

A hand waved now, towards the fae who accompany her – introducing each ( her husband, her cousin, her bloodsworn ). An apology on behalf of Lysandra, whom she knows the girl beside her had been eager to meet, and a promise that she’ll be here to visit in several days. At her question now, her smile deepens with a nod, and Aelin volunteers her own mate ( admittedly not a Lucien-equivalent, given he’s the Consort to the crown but one she knows will do as she asks anyway ) to give the political tour, before flashing an utterly effervescent smile to HIGH LORD before her.

“Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll be stealing your wife for the foreseeable future.”

Arm linked within her now, she doesn’t hesitate to make good on that claim, squeezing her hand lightly as she turns to glance her direction.

“What would you like to see first?”

[stareternyl]

the laughter that aelin pulls from her is almost melodic, brunette waves tossed back as her head tilts from the challenging look that aelin and rhysand share between each other. her mate holds the stare for a beat longer and feyre knows it’s because of how he enjoys her laugh; when she sobers, his starlight hues flicker to hers and the mirth is mirrored, all before he curtly nods and follows rowan’s lead. cassian does his best to remain stoic, but he does lean down as he sweeps by, whispering to the queen and high lady: “bring back some chocolate cake for me.”  

she would shake her head if she didn’t entirely understand. “i’m sorry,” tumbles from her lips as their company departs. “actually... no, i’m not going to apologise for him. this isn’t the summer court.” the made fae waves a dismissive hand as she straightens, standing without using aelin’s body as a leaning post. a noise of thought resonates in the base of her throat as she begins to wander backwards, clasping hands in front of her body; at first, she had intended to play it off jovially, but pensive thought creeps its way in after feyre had made it a few paces away. her feet slow to a stop and she turns to her friend, brows furrowed. 

“i worry, sometimes, that our war with hybern left a scar that i can’t see. there’s still threats on our horizon from koschei, but even then, it’s like we haven’t truly healed still. the human queens—the other high lords, even—there is unrest. and our people. they always suffer the most in these squabbles between rulers,” the words tumble from her lips without much care, but she knows this is a safe space to admit these things; the doubts plagueing her heart. “could you show me how you helped rebuild after your war? the monuments, the places, the... everything that helped those of orynth recover.”