Latest Posts by ejkreader - Page 3

ok but thinking about Rhys saying Nyx is an "ancient night goddess" suggests there were multiple gods and there was polytheism, only for there to now be an Unnamed Goddess called the mother who also picks men to hold domain over the land she created like

Sarah this is reading so hard like fanfic I swear to God please be consistent in your world building I am BEGGING you

ok but thinking about Rhys saying Nyx is an "ancient night goddess" suggests there were multiple gods and there was polytheism, only for there to now be an Unnamed Goddess called the mother who also picks men to hold domain over the land she created like

Sarah this is reading so hard like fanfic I swear to God please be consistent in your world building I am BEGGING you

Lucien really asked her if he got her a moon on a string, would she give him a kiss, and she didn’t jump his bones. Insane. Absolutely bonkers.

Day 4 of @tamlinweek - Powers

Being able to shapeshift himself AND other people is op actually. If only SJM let him unleash his full potential!

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FanArt for the ACOTAR book series by SJM.

The High Lord of the Spring Court,Tamlin.

Sorry, not sorry, but I truly believe Tamlin deserves an healing arc.

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"the uwufication of chuuya" "the feminization of chuuya" and it's a fic or fanart where chuuya cries

day 4: Powers

@tamlinweek

Protector of the Emerald lands

_______________________________________________

They had come - and Tamlin had managed to rally that force I'd so gleefully destroyed-

(ACOWAR ch.70)

_______________________________________________

Lucien panted, wiping at his bloodied lip with the back of his hand.

Even with the combined efforts of the Illyrian forces and Miryam and Drakon's army, Hybern was still outnumbering them. Pathetically so. But even as his stomach roiled and his heart jerked, Lucien tightened his grip on his sword and continued onward.

If today was to be his last, he would fight like hell. 

The hours bled into the next in a wild blur. 

Foe after foe fell under his sword, and yet still more appeared.

A shrieking cry erupted from above, and Lucien was sent sprawling across the dirt. He instinctively turned himself onto his back, bringing his vambraced arms up into a cross just in time, the sound of talons against metal setting his teeth on edge. Lucien snarled, grappling frantically for his fallen sword with his free hand. 

The harpy's wings beat at the air as it swiped madly at him. It was all he could do to keep a firm grip on its throat, pushing its gaping maw away from his face. His arms screamed under the effort. Flames would not deter the disfigured beast, no matter how intense, and soon he could feel himself weakening under the exertion of using his powers.

But then,

The groan of a war-horn. 

It reverberated through his chest. 

The beast was distracted by the sound too. 

It paused in its attack, confusion marring its features. Lucien took advantage of its distraction, slithering his arm down towards his boot as quick as lightning and drawing out a hunting knife before ramming it into its throat, killing it instantly.

He clambered to his knees, crawling towards his sword with great panting breaths. 

A second groan of the war horn. Then a third.

He twisted his head round, eyes straining.

It was- Mother and Cauldron above…

High on the cliff's edge...

It was Tamlin.

And- no, it couldn't be…

Autumn was there too, their scarlet banners whipping wildly from the steady flaps of the gryphon horde waiting in the skies above. 

The sight was enough to bring tears to Lucien's eyes.

Tamlin wore no helm, and carried no shield. He wore no armour at all. Only his favoured cuirass and vambraces, made from supple leather the colour of the forest. 

"Gods damned idiot," Lucien breathed.

Stupid though he was, Tamlin cut a formidable figure, flanked on both sides by the beasts and fae of Spring's army. 

Along the cliff's edge, the warriors beat at their painted chests with throaty cries, their weapons shining in the sunlight. Lucien thrust his own sword into the air, screaming until it felt like his lungs would give out. Hope flooded his veins for the first time that day.

As Lucien watched, Tamlin raised one arm and the air seemed to freeze, every being coiled and prepared to strike. Then, with a sharp cry, he sliced his arm through the air.

Hundreds upon hundreds of shrieking gryphons dove from the skies, their talons glinting as they sliced through Hybern's army. Centaurs galloped down the ragged cliffside, brandishing wicked swords. Nymphs and dryads rode atop the backs of wolves and bears, daggers and bows gleaming in their hands. 

And in the thick of it all, their High Lord.

For a moment he stood alone on the edge, his hair whipping like a golden silk about his face. Then he ran, leaping off of the cliff. At the last possible moment, Tamlin flicked his wrists, bending and shaping the land to his will. 

Columns of earth and stone rose to meet his nimble feet. He swept through the battlefield, the dancing movements of his fingers sending devastating shockwave after shockwave through Hybern's forces, the soldiers flung in every which way into the neat paths of the diving gryphons.

In the sky behind him, Lucien could spot Rhysand flapping midair, caught in a trance.

Tamlin's arms rested lightly by his sides, then slowly, he began to raise them.

It was a quiet rumble at first, so soft he could barely feel it. But then the earth began to shake, in great waves of energy that pulsed and reverberated up from his feet to his chest. Louder and louder, a crescendo of pure noise. It rattled his teeth and sent his stomach lurching. 

Then everything stopped. The battlefield froze, a thousand hearts barely daring to beat.

And then the earth split apart with a horrible, thundering crack. 

Lucien stumbled to his knees, his ears ringing. 

An ugly chasm tore across the battlefield like a gaping maw. Those of Hybern's men that weren't dragged into the chasm's depths were thrown violently through the air, where the gryphons awaited them. 

Disjointed screams of pain echoed up, bloodied arms clawing at the earth, struggling to pull themselves free. The nymphs rode swiftly by, yipping triumphantly as they loosed arrow after arrow into their trembling hands. dropping them into the cool depths.

For Spring.

For all that Hybern had taken from them.

A laugh tore itself free from Lucien's throat. 

Hybern would fall today. 

Once and for all.

I have to assume that in the fullness of time, at least once, a mouse has used a mushroom as an umbrella.

That’s enough to keep me going.

I feel like in the rush of “throw out etiquette who cares what fork you use or who gets introduced first” we actually lost a lot of social scripts that the younger generations are floundering without.

I feel like in the rush of “throw out etiquette who cares what fork you use or who gets introduced first” we actually lost a lot of social scripts that the younger generations are floundering without.

New portrait time!! It's Morrigan!!! I wanted to design an outfit that she would wear into the Nightmare Court where she can rub it in everyone's faces how much of a goddess she is, with her come out of that darkness and creating her own light. I really had to work on this one to get it right, she went through many versions to get here, and im really happy with the result! she'll be on redbubble too!

Nesta Archeron.

Inspired by the art of @charliebowater

Drarry as Onion Articles (pt. 1?)

feel free to add on!

Dudes healthcare is so fake. My ADHD meds are $940 without insurance. But they gave me a website of "coupons" which straight up looks like a scam website, and I got it today for $60! Just a coupon from a random website and it was $900 cheaper. America, I am confusion!! America explain!!

here I tried to combine digital with watercolor

reblog to give a plushie to the person you reblogged this from

When I just want to talk about characters I've loved since childhood and learned valuable life lessons from but I remember the author's bullshit and the joy is gone. I wanted to post things and didn't.

No but imagine just how against HP characters would be against acephobia. Harry Potter point blank would not care. Sirius Black would verbally destroy her and throw hands if needed. He doesn't give a rat's bald arse she's supposed to be an old lady. Let's be real, Charlie Weasley is ace. The twins would go Umbridge mode on her. Even Tom Riddle would not discriminate based on asexuality. Oh you've mastered control over the urges of the flesh or risen above such mortal temptations? Good for you, he'd respect it.

Odysseus Tamlin x Poseidon Rhys? No? Come on...

Seat one

I get leg room and all the secrets from the Suriel

And dog on my right

And dog next to the Suriel

DOG

(I love this prompt so much)

ACOTAR Airplane Seat Game Round 4 of 4

Unsurprisingly many of you wanted to squeeze between Cassian and Azriel. That's fine, because we're currently sitting on Eris's lap. 😈

This brings us to our final plane flight. You're tired. We're tired. The dogs are also tired. Good luck. 🤞

If you've enjoyed this, please be sure to join us for Eris week this September 14th - 20th. We also have some fun surprises coming up, so keep an eye on the blog. 👀

yes this is a joke, but it's relevant because eris would buy seats for all of his dogs.

day 2: Dark Spring

@tamlinweek

What once was yours

_______________________________________________

Feyre bargains for Rhysand's life.

But all magic comes at a price, some more costly than others.

_______________________________________________

“...Please. I will- I will give you anything.”

Tamlin raised his head at that, finally looking up from the pale corpse of Rhysand.

“Anything?”

“You’d best be careful.” Mor warned, stepping forward.

“Quiet.” He snarled, the single word cracking in the air like a whip. 

Mor's lip curled, but then she dropped her eyes to the golden threads of magic twining between his fingers. 

Pulsing. Rumbling. 

Her fingers tightened around her blade, but not another word left her lips.

“Just bring him back.” Feyre begged, twisting her hands into Rhysand’s clothes. 

“Please, just bring him back.”

Tamlin knelt beside the lifeless body of her mate. “Are you certain what you ask of me?”

Feyre stared up at him with wild, unseeing eyes.  “I am. I will give you anything.”

“Do you swear it?”

“I do,” she whispered. Feyre looked up into Tamlin's face.

"I do."

His lips curled into a smile, and it was almost tender.

“I want the Night Court.”

“No!’’ 

“Feyre, don’t!” 

Mor made to step between them yet again, but Feyre stopped her with a tattooed arm, blocking her path.

“Yes. I accept.”

Cries of dismay wrenched themselves from the throats of the Inner Circle, utterly hopeless as Feyre reached out her other hand; unblemished with nightly ink, clasping Tamlin's hand tightly in hers.

“It is done,” he murmured.

A shroud of smoke ensconced Rhysand’s body, lifting him into the air. Feyre cried out, stumbling back as the cloud swirled around him. A tendril of silver began to wind its way out of the cloud, twinkling as if it had been spun from the stars themselves. It reached towards Tamlin like a vine. He took it into his hand tenderly and it lay there, seeping into his skin until he glowed like a star.

And then there was utter stillness.

From the farthest corners of Prythian to the now crumpled wall, the wind rumbled with a single name…

Tamlin Silverthorne, the Stone-hearted, Killer of the Never-Fading-Flower, Protector of the Emerald lands,

High Lord of Spring and Night.

The Spring Storm

Tamlin week 2025 prompt for Day Two|Dark Spring

@tamlinweek

@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.

Pondering my orbs.

May we have a sneak peek at the next chapter 👀👀

i'll do you one better

What Once Was

pairing: Tamlin x Lucien

word count: 697

warnings: none

a/n: written for day 1 of @tamlinweek using the forgiveness prompt. also if i have any hotd fans you may recognize a line at the end, i just thought it worked so well for Tamlin hehe

The Spring Court was quieter than Lucien remembered.

The wind whispered through the overgrown hedges, the scent of wildflowers heavy in the warm air. The once-perfect gardens looked like they had surrendered to time—petals spilling, ivy climbing unchecked, a kind of disarray that made Lucien’s chest ache.

He hadn’t been here in months. But after that dreaded solstice where his mate kissed another and Feyre’s pregnancy where he was treated like a threat to someone he used to call a friend…he hadn’t known where else to go.

But now, his boots crunched across the gravel path that led to the manor, and he felt like a ghost in his own memory. The manor loomed in front of him, sunlit and crumbling around the edges, just like the male inside it.

Lucien swallowed hard and knocked. The door creaked as it opened on its own, and he tentatively stepped through the threshold. His steps echoed on the marble floors. His eyes roamed over the interior. Furniture destroyed, the wooden pieces scattered. Dust covered every surface and flew about the room. And the smell—Cauldron the smell—lead Lucien to believe Tamlin must be bringing his prey back here and leaving the carcass…somewhere.

Lucien was about to open a window or two when he heard the familiar tapping of claws against the floor.

“You have some nerve,” Tamlin growled. Even his beast form had seen better days. Dried blood covered his maw and his golden fur was matted.

Lucien didn’t flinch. He met Tamlin’s sharp green eyes and said, voice soft, “I know.”

“Do you?” Tamlin stalked the rest of the way into the room. “You disappeared. Left when everything was crumbling. When I was crumbling. You didn’t even say goodbye.”

Lucien looked away, jaw tightening. “I didn’t know how to face you.”

“Because of Elain?” Tamlin sneered. “Or because you abandoned your court?”

Lucien’s throat bobbed. “Because I abandoned you.”

Tamlin reared back like he had been slapped.

The tension crackled between, years of history unspoken. Lucien clenched his fists at his sides, then stepped closer. “I came back because I couldn’t stop thinking about it. About you. I miss what we had—what we were before everything fell apart.”

Tamlin laughed, bitter and low. “What we had? You mean the friendship you walked away from? Or the thing you never let yourself name?”

Lucien’s voice cracked. “It had a name to me. I was just too much of a coward to say it to your face.”

Tamlin stared at him, chest heaving. “You think you can just show up and expect forgiveness?”

“No.” Lucien dropped to one knee, head bowed. “But I’ll ask anyway. I’ll beg if I have to. I failed you, Tamlin. I left when I should’ve stayed. I was selfish and afraid, and Mother help me, I regret it every day.”

Silence stretched like a chasm between them. Then there was a flash of light.

Tamlin knelt too, one hand cupping Lucien’s jaw, forcing his head up. There was pain in his eyes. Longing. The kind of grief that never quite heals. Lucien couldn’t help but notice his golden hair was longer than he remembered.

“I wasn’t perfect either,” Tamlin murmured. “I pushed you away. Let the rage win. Said things I didn’t mean.”

“You meant some of them,” Lucien said, a rueful smile curling his lips.

Tamlin huffed a laugh, eyes glinting. “Yeah. Maybe.”

Lucien’s fingers found the edge of Tamlin’s wrist, tentative. “But I never stopped loving you. Even when it hurt. Even when you hated me.”

The hand on his face tightened. Tamlin leaned in slowly like he didn’t trust the moment. Like he expected it to vanish.

Lucien didn’t let it.

He surged forward, lips meeting Tamlin’s in a kiss that was all rage and sorrow and grief. Tamlin responded with a low sound, hands tangling in Lucien’s red hair, gripping him like he might disappear.

They kissed like it was the first time. Like it was the last. Like all the pain they’d carried could finally be set down.

When they pulled apart, foreheads pressed together, Tamlin whispered, “Leave me again at your own peril.”

Lucien breathed, “Not unless you make me.”

i literally don't have time to do a better job of this

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.

My entry for @tamlinweek Day 1: Forgiveness / Change

This is based on the Witch Hat Atelier art challenge that was on the bird app a while back (you can find the original art under the cut).

I thought the image fit Tamlin so beautifully.