What Strength Really Means 💪

Messy petty Az

it’s them it is so them. aka zosan brainrot strikes again

once my exams end i'm gonna brainrot over my skk AUs again and YOU 🫵 will suffer with me

however i did make a playlist for my upcoming AU because i couldn't resist </3

ⓘ You can Bite your Friends.

Behind every book, play, poem, and piece of writing is an author.

And behind that author is their reason why they wrote it, who they wrote it for or in memory of, what they needed to do to write it, and the work they put into it.

I love reading books and fanfiction, but I also love reading about the people who made them- interacting and seeing their motivations.

I want to write. I want to write a novel someday, and I want it to be known worldwide and for it to be a bestseller. But I think I would still be happy if I just wrote it- not because of people who want to read whatever I write, but because I wrote what I wanted to write. But even before I think about novels, I need to practice, practice, and practice writing more.

I don't think it has to be good. If I'm writing what I want to, it won't matter if it's bad or not. It'll just matter that I wrote it, and I like it. And that I want to keep going.

Sometimes it can be hard to want to keep going. Sometimes I just want to not dream, to just be ready for a life where my only goal is a better job, a raise, a good family.

But I want to write.

So even if almost everything I write stays private, even if I never share that work- I'm writing. And I'm trying.

I don't know when author appreciation day/week is (there is such a thing, right?), but it's 11 PM and I just wanted to say thank you to all the authors. I may not know your stories, or have read your works, but you wrote them for a reason, no matter what it was. You pushed through whatever was in your life, you moved on, you got a better story. Or you just wrote it for fun, still- thank you. I'm sure that you have made someone's day by writing it, even if it was your own :)) I love y'all. Keep on writing 💛

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.

Wip update in honor of poly week @polyacotarweek

Nesta x cassian x azriel just having a Sellyn Drake good time

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

Okay I have a fic brewing for today's @tamlinweek prompt biting/chest, but I don't actually know if it'll be ready to post to AO3 by the end of the day, so I figure I'd give a little snippet now!

This fic is Rhysand/Tamlin, past friends to enemies, present strangers to lovers. There's technically an age gap but Rhys worries about it way more than he actually needs to.

I promise my real post for it will be prettier than this haha. But anyways, the clip is below the cut if you'd like to see what's in store!

It’s maybe a little weird. Or a lot. Rhys can't really tell.

It's definitely a little weird that he's at a high school reunion for a class that he was never a student in, but Mor had asked until he relented, and he loves his cousin enough not to make a big deal about it. Plus, it's basically a form of community engagement. Good PR.

And it’s not like he wasn't curious.

(But Rhys supposes he knows what curiosity does to the cat.)

It probably is weird. He should just let it go. Pretend he didn’t even see that flash of pale hair, that once-familiar smile, the eyes that somehow still look green from afar in the dim throwback-to-homecoming lighting. Rhys knows that he’s become a little dry, distracted, and that people will start noticing, but he just can’t stop searching.

Looking for a trace of the boy he knew ten years ago in the man he sees now.

Tamlin looks practically unreal. His hair has gone from sandy, dirty blonde to vibrant, spun gold, practically platinum in some places. It cascades down past his shoulders, wavy and thick, holding none of the country club pretentiousness that his preppy little swoop had back in high school. His shy grin is the same, but the face it decorates is practically foreign. Angular and distinct, high-definition in human form.

When Rhys first met Tamlin, he’d looked like he was growing like a puppy. Linebacker shoulders that he didn’t seem to know how to grow into, a jawline hidden in lingering baby fat that he hadn’t yet grown out of. He’d always moved with a clear cautiousness, like he didn’t know what to do with his size, a kid piloting a teenage body. With the soft roundness of his face and the unsure gait he walked with, he'd almost appeared small despite his height.

Now, it seems like there’s not a part of him that hadn’t stopped growing since Rhys last saw him.

He fills out his sage green dress shirt like it was tailored to display his form in the most accurate way possible without the stitches ripping. He’s thicker than most average men, his chest curved, arms thick, and hell, even his legs show their definition through his light tan pants. He’s very clearly jacked.

It’s understated enough, though, that he doesn’t look crazy or roided out. Just very carefully crafted, like somewhere along the way, he’d turned himself to stone just to reshape his body into the cut he wanted.

His clean-shaven jaw is now entirely visible and perfectly sharp, not too severe. His cheeks have hollowed a bit as well, but not in a way that suggests cosmetic help. Broad shoulders now have the muscle to make up for it, his large hands finally matching the rest of his body, his strapping chest smoothly leading down to a slim waist, creating a figure that simply dominates among regular layfolk.

And he’s tall. Even taller than he’d been when Rhys graduated, towering over his company, easily clearing six feet.

He’s a man now. Practically a whole different person.

But it still feels so weird. That spark of attraction racing along Rhys’ veins, teasing the inside of his mouth, under his tongue.

If they were strangers, he wouldn’t think twice about it. It’s not that big of a difference.

But the fact is, they’re not strangers. They knew each other, once. When Rhys was already awaiting his acceptance letter from Brown, and Tamlin was fourteen.

Wait

We were defending Dazai???

dazai and akutagawa make me sick too (though i discovered today that i had food poisoning and did not, in fact, actually throw up from bsd angst)

dazai was only a couple of years older than akutagawa and simply perpetuated that cycle of violence that the world around them followed, one lost and deeply disturbed kid trying to lead another and idk that just makes it all the more sadder because the intention behind dazai's actions weren't even intentionally malicious. who is to say dazai did not wholeheartedly believe, like he did for himself, that akutagawa could find meaning in the port mafia?

dazai, who is assimilated in the darkness, who lives around blood and violence each day, how would he have taught akutagawa something other than all he's ever known in his life?

i don't know i just feel like we need more nuance in this discussion when it comes to dazai's abuse of akutagawa, which isn't to defend him at all but to realize that it was a horrible position for either of them to be in; where the blind lead the blind.