Ejkreader - Call Me Lizzie

Hello happy Tamlin week!!!!!

I procrastinated this fic so much that I only finished it today so please excuse any mistakes because there are definitely some in here. Also I finished 2 drawings and will be posting them on their respective days but idk if I will be able to finish anything else so sorry Tamlin nation I have failed you my loves 😔😩

Anyway please enjoy this poopoo quality fic and I’m sending virtual hugs and kisses to anyone who actually finished all the prompts, you are clearly way cooler, sexier and better at planning than me 💕

Tamlin Week

Day 1: Forgiveness

Tamlin knew every leaf and every sapling in the Spring Court. He could feel the wind every time it rustled a shrub, taste every wave of water as it crashed against the rocks of babbling streams. He was the Spring Court, and so he felt Eris’ polished boots burning into his soil, felt the daisies dying under his careless steps.

Tamlin prowled closer to investigate, still in his beast form with blood matting his mane from the game of his hunt. He found Eris scowling at a thorny branch that had got caught on his pristine tailcoat. He must have heard Tamlin’s heavy paws thudding against the ground because he quickly yanked himself free and straightened his posture. The disgruntled arch of his brows remained as they locked eyes and Eris took in Tamlin’s monstrous form.

Eris tutted. “Still as untamed as ever, I see.”

Tamlin leaned closer in reply, quietly prideful that Eris flinched, even if it was just for a split second. He grunted, making a strand of Eris auburn hair fall out of place.

“What, don’t tell me you’re here to tame me?” When Eris didn’t so much as laugh, he grumbled, “why are you here?”

Eris tucked the wayward strand of hair behind his pointed ear. “I’m the heir of the Autumn Court. Can I not visit my ally?”

“As the heir of the Autumn Court you should know that you shouldn’t cross a court’s boarder’s without an invitation. Ally or not. And I’m not convinced we are allies.”

Eris didn’t even have the decency to pretend to be disappointed. “Aren’t we?”

“No, not when you insist on getting cozy with the Night Court.” Tamlin shook his head, not able to hide how he was disappointed. He had always begrudgingly admired Eris. His father could never resist pointing Eris out at every gathering— not that he needed to, even in his youth Eris carried himself well and dressed even better, with eyes that seemed to pierce Tamlin to the ground he stood on and a laugh so wicked Tamlin found himself praying for salvation. Eris was the pinnacle of what a High Lord wanted in a son, where Tamlin was… to put it politely, terribly lacking in nearly every aspect. So to think of Eris making deals with the Night Court was unbelievable. Nearly. “I suppose your father really was right about cock from the Night Court being persuasive.” Tamlin’s chuckle was too weak to convince either of them that he found any amusement in the jibe. “Just get off my land. I don’t want anymore Vanserra blood on my hands.” With a flick of his tail he began to stomp off, only to find Eris striding beside him.

“It really isn’t,” Eris said, staring straight ahead as they approached the crumbling walls of the manor. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand my motivations but just know that I’m not doing this naively. I have a plan.”

“You always do.”

Eris’ eyes flickered to Tamlin’s. “Unlike some.”

“If that is what you choose to believe of me.” Tamlin didn’t have energy to argue anymore. People thought he was a lot of things these days. There was a time when he cared but that time had passed, like all things do.

“Are you saying I’m wrong?”

Tamlin sighed as he came to a halt at the manor’s vine tangled doors. “I’m saying I’m tired. Goodbye Eris.” When Eris refused to move, only stare him down with a frown, Tamlin added, “You don’t need to keep checking in on me. I’m fine. Whatever responsibility you feel you have to me, feel free to forget about it.”

“I’d hardly call it responsibility. More like pity.”

“I can reject you, would that make it easier?” Tamlin didn’t mean for his words to have as much venom as they did. He steeled himself for a fiery comeback.

“For you it might. I suppose you and all of Prythian would love to see me driven to insanity.” He ground out, his cheeks hearing with rage. Without warning Eris tugged at the bond, making Tamlin quiver so much he shifted out of his beast form. Eris’ eyes slipped down Tamlin’s naked form, his grip on the bond burning hot.

“You know that’s not what I want.” Tamlin tried not to melt under Eris’ gaze, tried to ignore the way his skin prickled as Eris’ grip on the bond became almost tender as he stepped closer.

“What do you want?”

“Nothing. I’ve never wanted anything from you. I’m sorry that you were unfortunate enough to be tied to me, all because that damned cauldron sees me as a female, just because I have the capability to shift into one. I want you to just pretend this thing between us isn’t there. I want you to be as happy as your cold heart is capable of and I’ll try the same.” Before Eris could utter a word Tamlin pushed open the door. Inside servants and members of the court bustled about. Plant life spilled out from every crack of stone. Paintings and fine pottery lined the walkways and there wasn’t a single blemish on any chair or cushion. Every sentry was in their place and all bowed politely at their High Lord. The manor was perfect, at least in Tamlin’s eyes and he learnt over time that that was all that mattered.

“What, were you expecting me to live in a shithole?”

“Well… yes. All anyone has been talking about is how run down your court is.” Eris brushed his thumb over a red rose that clung to the wall. “When did you do all this?”

Tamlin shrugged. “A while. And as far as anyone else is aware my court is still in ruins. I’ve put up a veil so to outsiders it seems as if I’m living with nothing but rubble and dust. I couldn’t risk another attack. I figured if everyone still believed I’d succumbed to defeat they’d leave me and my people alone. So far we’ve remained unbothered so it seems to working.”

Eris blinked back at Tamlin in disbelief. “How— how did you even find the strength to do it?”

Tamlin paused for a while before answering, “I suppose I just forgave myself, which maybe I don’t deserve, but I can’t undo all I’ve done. All I can do is try my best to take care of my people and my court. I’ve decided that I’m just going to try and move on. I’ve made mistakes and maybe I’m a monster but this monster has a court to oversee and people who depend on me.”

Eris forced himself to turn away. “How noble.” Was all he could muster. Eris refused to look Tamlin in the eye and Tamlin was much the same, too afraid in case he might see something of himself in there.

“It would do you good to try the same. I won’t pretend to know all your secret and misdeeds, but I do think you’ve suffered enough. Try forgiving yourself, just for something small every day and then work your way up to the big stuff. It sounds ridiculous but it helps. It’s freeing.”

Eris’ expression hardened, his lips curling into a snarl. “It’s just that easy, huh? Well I hope you can forgive me for being blunt but I really don’t think I’ll be taking life lessons from you while you’ve still got your whole ass out in front of your court.” Eris crossed his arms and began to storm off. “I only came here to tell you to stop purring in your sleep, I can hear it in my dreams. Our bond is quite vocal, it seems.” He barked over his shoulder before disappearing out of sight.

Tamlin rubbed his temples. The maddening smell of burnt cedar and cinnamon still lingering in the space Eris left behind.

He hated how he lied to Eris. The truth was he still hadn’t forgiven himself for one thing, and likely never would. How could he ever forgive himself for cruelly burdening Eris with their mating bond? It was the cauldron that decided it but he was the only one responsible for not being what Eris needed.

I tried sketching the version of Eris that's always in my head, but I don't think I'm a good enough artist yet to properly draw it :)

Oh well, at least I managed to draw this! I'm really happy with it ^^

I gave him half-elf ears because he always gives me elf vibes, and earrings because I think he'd start wearing those a lot more Beron dies- as an act of rebellion, and to show that he is different from his late father.

Anyway, I'm going to go read more Azris now- hope anybody who sees this is having a good day!! 💅✨️💛💖

A lil Danganrompa drawing (because I finished DTHP recently)

ANYWAY Celestia was always my favorite character (SPOILERS NEXT LINE IF YOU HAVENT PLAYED THE GAME)

...

Everyone gone? (There wasn't anyone in the first place, what am I talking about 🙃) ANYWAY she was always my fave, I was so sad she died :((( I really thought she would make it to the end, but oh well. Two murders is really something- she wouldn't have gone out any other way (with a BIG statement ;)) And like, nobody really cared about Hifumi and Taka anyways (especially after he first with Mondo's spirit??? Wtf was that about?)

I really thought Yasuhiro was the killer, idk abt you guys (I feel like I knew it was Celeste but just didn't want to admit it to myself 😭😭😭)

She is my girlfriend frfr

Hehe idk I really wanted to give her bright colors ^^ AHGHAGAG I LOVE HER BEING CHIBI

Anyways I love talking for forever

Because like

I don't think many people will see this

So I can just RANT

AGH I LOVE IT (as an introvert)

Anyways chickin nuggets guys

have a good day :)

(Very slay of you if you actually read all that stuff

Have some dino nuggies) ^^

@tamlinweek Day 2: Dark Spring/Mythology

Chunky: Wow, look at that picture. Totally looks like Tamlin Chunky a little while later: *gasp* m u s t d r a w t a m l i n Also Chunky: Ok but HOW can I make this sad?

The evening primrose blooms at night can hold different meanings. It can represent fond memories or young lovers and is often the first spring bloom.

Thirteen primroses is considered to be lucky... More or less than that is bad luck. There are only 12 violet evening primroses in his bouquet.

In contrast, the late blooming aster, or Michaelmas daisy, whose name translates to star, was created by the tears of the goddess Astraea due to the lack of stars in the sky.

The purple aster is for royalty and it is often used as a symbol of farewell and departure. It can also symbolize renewal and the resilience of spring. Thank you to @mistandmemories and @jules-writes-stories for helping me come up with a flower for Feyre's representation.

Amaranth is the symbol of Artemis, the huntress and a representation of unfading affection and everlasting love; And in my interpretation, Amarantha is a ghost that will always haunt him. 

He wouldn't have her so she tainted his first love(Tamsand), and his last (Feylin).

Dividers by @olenvasynyt

Here is a link to (hopefully) better quality on Ao3

Upon further review I don’t think that’s actually the case lol but we tried.

Emerie of Illyria

hey azris community, can y’all pls lmk ur absolute fav fanfics on here or on ao3?? i need to read some more goodies

Hello, a little request here!! ❤️‍🔥

Azriel gets jealous when Eris courts a female his father has ordered him to win her favor. The sole view of her hooked to his arm makes Azriel see red, and unable to bear it any longer he's dragged to the Autumn heir's chambers where he waits for his return to make a clear statement of possession and raw desire. *winks, winks*

helloooo lovely anon!! thank you for the request!! i love it and it made me realise i've never actually written jealous!azriel so must remedy that immediately. Hope you enjoy!

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

It’s the colour of her dress that Azriel loathes the most. 

A deep emerald green, layers of silk and lace that fall on the floor like spilled ink. They trail after her every delicate step, the click of her heels against the marble grating on Azriel’s nerves like clashing blades. 

She has no name—but she smiles and holds her head high and her eyes are green, two shades lighter than her dress, and cunning. The words she says are few, but the looks that dawn on the other guests’ faces as she speaks tells Azriel enough—that she is as cruel and mean as the male whose arm she hangs off, that she is smart, that she is familiar with the game she has come to play, here, tonight.

Her wings rest folded against her back, the open back of her dress framing them perfectly. Green, like her eyes, like her dress; beautiful gossamer webbing sparkling against her deep skin. 

Eris’ hand brushes against the small of her back. 

Azriel looks away. 

The ceremony is dreadful; he does not want to be here. But Rhysand dragged him here with a single, menancing look, and Azriel hates his brother, just a bit, just enough for his skin to pull tight over his hands when he curls his fingers into fists. 

At least the stone wall against his back is cool. They are in Dawn, and the night, as it descends slowly over Thesan’s court, is pungent and bright. 

The air smells faintly of oranges, blown into the open-roof ballroom by a gentle breeze. All manner of Fae mingle together, talking in low tones or bursting into laughter or dancing, fine dresses fluttering around ankles and females dipping low towards the floor. 

Azriel tries not to stare at her—but the light refracting off her wings catches his attention more times than he would like. When his gaze falls on her, his stomach clenches, a feeling like spiders crawling up his throat causing his wings to twitch against the stone. 

He should be working—he should be paying attention to countless of other things but her: this Fae that glides across the room with an ease even Rhysand would be envious of. 

Eyes other than Azriel’s track her movements avidly; whispers follow her as she makes her rounds across the room, leading Eris more than Eris leading her. She takes a sip of the peach-coloured wine in her glass and Azriel shadow’s show him how Eris’ eyes fall to her mouth, how they linger, for a moment, on the wet curve of her bottom lip, painted a burgundy shade. 

A burning ache alights in Azriel’s stomach. Eris’ hand on her back pulls her a little closer. The golden embroidery of his tunic shines against her green dress. 

Azriel wraps himself in shadows and disappears, just as Eris looks away from her and towards him.

He reappears high in the sky, the deep purple of the nights echoing green against his closed lids. He flies all the way from Dawn to Autumn, his shadows coiling around his limbs, demanding he return. 

But Azriel can’t, because the ache in his stomach has grown into a fury that stretches and wraps around his very bones. His pulse thrums in his ears, louder even than the wind as he flies over red and golden trees. 

He dives with desperation clustering his sternum and when he lands in front of Eris’ garden doors, the earth shuddering beneath him, Eris is already there. 

Eris’ eyes are bright, his long hair dancing with the wind brought forth by Azriel’s landing. 

“Azri—”

Eris’ words are cut short by Azriel’s mouth pressing to his, by his hand cupping Eris’ neck and bringing him closer, until thier bodies are flush. 

Azriel kisses his anger and hunger into Eris’ mouth—pushes him backwards until the curtains of Eris’ bedroom part and make way for them. 

Eris grunts into his mouth and kisses him back with the same desperation, his hands cupping Azriel’s face, fingers tangling in his hair. 

“Who was she?”

Azriel presses the question against the hinge of Eris’ jaw as he pushes him down onto the bed. 

“No one,” Eris says, then groans when Azriel’s blunt teeth bite just above his collar, where Eris’ pulse is alive and thrumming and Azriel’s. 

Azriel wraps one hand around Eris’ waist and pulls him closer to him, until their hips are pressed together and Eris’ breath hitches. 

Eris captures Azriel’s mouth in another searing kiss. Azriel wishes, fervently, that the Mother would let him rest, let him live in this moment forever. Let him keep Eris for himself, tucked away somewhere no one will ever find them.

“You’re mine,” he says into Eris’ mouth. “Even if they don’t know it, you’re mine.”

Eris’ fingers tug at Azriel’s hair. He pulls Azriel’s mouth away from his to leave a burning kiss against the side of Azriel’s neck. “Always.”

No but like how was JK Rowling transphobic and also described one of her character's voices in HP (I don't remember who) as having a "fruity" voice

The math isn't mathing here ;)

Kallias and Viviane let Rhysand off the hook a little too easy about the Winter Court children. They're just supposed to believe it was another Daemati when Rhysand was tormenting them all UtM and Rhysand couldn't even provide the name of this other Daemati? All this evidence against him and they just believe his word? just like that?

Here we are, y'all. This is the first gif I have made in 10 years! Wow, it feels good to flex that muscle after a loooong rest. Maybe it's a bit choppy, but eh it's fine with me as long as I get to watch my meow meow Thanatos tonguing his Zagreus, heh