Just Thinking That The Worst Villains Are The Ones Who Believe That They Are Good, And So Any Actions

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.”

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

There was a young man from Peru

Whose limericks stopped at line two

“I love you… did you know?”

“No… you never …”

“I know.”

“Then why?”

“We were always going to end up here. It didn’t matter.”

“It always matters that the love was there.”

This is the censored version.

Im 99% sure the uncensored version of this art will literally kill - to death - at least 4 people that I know but if you wanna see…

Here on Ao3

"Chunky is it an au of sorts? He doesn't have wings."

...Of sorts. But let's just say that the full version didn't require wings. What it did require was that outline of them for placement.

I was using this painting as a reference;

The Ritual by Roberto Ferri, 2016

When I wondered what it would be like if it had been Eris and Azriel instead of Lucien and Jesminda.

"He had teased him, taunted him- seduced him so thoroughly that he hadn't wanted anything but him. He'd seen him not as a High Lord's eldest, but as a male. Had loved him without question, without hesitation. He had chosen him."

Holla at ya boi if you want on or off the Azris tag train : @talibunny30 @iftheshoef1tz @born-to-riot  @fieldofdaisiies @aktrain @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @secret-third-thing @acourtofladydeath @pippsmcgee @youvereachedthenearest-lovergirl @baileybird71 @skyesayshi  @yams-77 @buffy-vanserra @areyoudreaminof @unanswered-stars @futurehunt @ninthcircleofprythian @matrixsss @going-through-shit @c-starstuff-man0 @jules-writes-stories @the-darkestminds @krowiathemythologynerd @cauldronblssd @hieragalbatorixdottir @yourlazykitkat @hellolordling @climbthemountain2020  @lilah-asteria  @shadowsandlint @acourtofbatboydreams @theeternalstruggle @christeareads @molcat07 @mistandmemories @neciebee @dusk-muse @chairofchaos @amalhe-kofee @brunetterebel010 @astro-h0e-4azris @g00seg1rl @queercontrarian

i think i need more dark azriel. i think i need more irritable, sleep deprived, angry azriel. azriel whose hands shake and you don’t know why, you don’t if it’s stress or anxiety or a deep sated fury he can’t stifle anymore. azriel whose chest rumbles with growls and hisses he is too tired to stifle. bitter azriel. disillusioned azriel. azriel who is too disgusted by everything, by those around and by himself, to play nice anymore. azriel who doesn’t eat, doesn’t drink anymore because he is so….so lost to his ever increasingly dark thoughts that he just…forgets to eat and drink. azriel who can’t sleep—not because he doesn’t want to, but because he can’t, because his shadows have grown darker and needier over the years, wrapping around him and not letting go, sticking to his skin like tar and wriggling in all his thoughts, tainting them, staining them. and azriel lets them, because of course he does, he and the shadows are one, after all, aren’t they? he cares for them. he craves them. he doesn’t mind all that much that they become the only thing he cares about, because the shadows are right. he should be angry. he should be bitter. no one understands him, not really, but the shadows do. they do. and so he spends all his nights awake with them, listening to their whispers, letting them nestle deeper inside of him, until that line he’s always been so aware of, the one that has always separated him from them begins to blur. he doesn’t care. he doesn’t care. and the shadows don’t care very much, either, rather they are almost…happy with this turn of events. and the happiness is a muted thing of course, they cannot be happy, but azriel’s closeness grants them more freedom, and so they begin to roam. they are curious by nature. they like to hoard things. they like to seep and to stain and to steal the light from all their encounter, greedy things that they are.

and so it’s natural that they fixate on eris. eris is bright. eris is warm. eris is as fickle as the flames that play at his fingertips and azriel’s shadows taunt their other half with snippets of dreams and memories they steal from eris; scents and flavours that make saliva pool under azriel’s tongue. he dislikes it at first, of course he does, but the shadows burrow deep inside of him and those snippets of eris that they hoard become azriel’s own secret treasure. and his sanity begins to ravel, obviously. his anger grows, the trembling in his hands worsens. and he can’t blame it on the shadows, because he is the shadows—and so he blames it on eris, because that is easier and sparks an aching, burning hunger in azriel that is better than the hatred, than the numbness that it brings after it spills out of him in violence.

azriel doesn’t stop the obsession when it comes. doesn’t stop the anger, the jealously, the bone deep urge that grows in him to take eris and peel him open, layer by layer, rib by rib; to peer inside of him and learn what his heart tastes like when he sinks his teeth into it. he doesn’t stop it. he doesn’t stop it.

About me:

- I'm a Hufflepuff, welcome to all fellow Hufflepuffs 💛💛💛

Socials: https://www.youtube.com/@Ejkreader https://www.instagram.com/ejkreader/profilecard/?igsh=dTl1bDBpY2g2YXRt

Ejkreader on Ao3

I listen to Rustage + other nerdcore artists (but mostly Rustage), play some video games, draw a lot and try to write, spend every spare moment reading and watching anime (I have watched all of One Piece to date). I'm born in the lAnD oF tEh FrEe, but consider myself Bulgarian as both of my parents are Bulgarian :)))

I like using :) ;) :] ;] a lot- and also "hehe" ;)

My top 5 most used emojis: 💖💀💅😭✨️

Hope y'all are all having a good day today and this week!!! :)

I'm fr laughing crying at this

If tumblr dies for real where do you think people will migrate to?

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

Day 4 : Hair

Tampunzel!!!!! 🤭

I’ve been wanting to do this for the longest time because I call him Rapunzel. We do not acknowledge any hair cuts given to this male in acotar 🙅‍♀️ Long hair will forever be the superior choice 😌

I’ve had this sketch for a while now but unfortunately I did not have enough time or energy to execute the vision in my head 😭😭 sigh.

@tamlinweek

LINK -> A Ballad of Thorns & Roses: How the High Lord of Spring Tells his Tale

by positivelyruined 🌹🍃🎻

links: Ao3 | original writing blog | WriterGram

Summary: When Tamlin, the High Lord of the Spring Court of Prythian, finds the clock counting down to his final battle with Amarantha — two things push him into action: the sudden death and bloody sacrifice of his friend Andras and the fierce vexation of his close friend Lucien. With no more time to waste, he offers shelter to the one person that he should despise the most — the girl who murdered Andras. His heart has been bleeding for a decade. Will their connection be enough to break the bond that holds the Spring Court captive, or will this burning love only spurn Tamlin’s heart? In this tale as old as time, only time will tell. 🌹

Shoutouts: big thank you to both of my original fans and betas, @tamlinfairchild and @lorcandidlucienwill who have both dealt with endless message spam, ten thousand questions, and my endless protection and fascinations with this character. also to @sonics-atelier who will be writing poetry for this epic in the long run. 👏👏👏

also a shoutout to the entire #proTamlin community | I’m glad to know that even if I am insane, at least I’m not alone.

for a lot of people, this will be my debut into the community (although I’ve written a handful of small things). but in short, I answer to cece, alex, ‘hey you over there’ and anything generally nice. 👋 I am twenty-seven and have been writing around fifteen years. 📝 I hope you all enjoy this exercise in mindbending and my journey into fixing everything SJM broke by…writing these books.

Tag List:

Here is the tag list. DM to be added, DM to be removed. This exists in two parts, the post and the comments because it is massive which is both flattering and incredibly intimidating

@goforth-ladymidnight @praetorqueenreyna @ceridvven @simmanin @golden-shani @ontheline840 @hiddenmidnightshadows @fleetfairy @supremedolphinoverlord @papaj--p4l @siriusement @szalonykasztan00 @rin-u-pos @alegomz @kateprincessofbluewhales @generouslawyereggsstudent @prettyawordthatstuck @bettdraws @lilyslittlewife @isabiss @draconicfaenerd @alizangc @hrizantemy @fourteentrout @camreadsum @yoddhasblog @mkused @wingsdippedingold @skyesayshi @ladydevena @leanderp @jungliet-capuleet @matrixsss @samsaj-05 @theknittingoracle @not-so-civil @multifandom-reader @iamtiredcanyouhelpme @littlestw01f @springandstarlight @yaralulu @foxcort @loneliestluvr @mathiwrites @1800naveen @kookiekissez @andrigyn