#tamris fanfic

[extremely-judgemental]

You wrote a fic for me. . . ?🥺 That's the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.

I don't care who y'all love or ship. Go and read this! N O W!!

A Court of Zero Flying Fucks

Following @extremely-judgemental desire to make it happen, I present to you the first 2 chapters of the Tamlin x Eris fanfiction based on this post.

Status: ongoing.

This story has/will have everything:

fem Eris

Tamlin and Eris as mates bickering and using each other for their purposes

steamy tough love

babbling baby-Lucien

The Lady of Autumn and Lucien's beautiful, but idiot brothers with regal names inspired by Greek mythology

unbothered queen-Eris sassing Amarantha

Mor's story re-written (obvi)

cocky and lovable Nesta

weird matches that make perfect sense

drinking games and dance-offs

angst, drama, longing, fuming, laughing, and - as a bonus - fluffy hounds..?

[achaotichuman]

Fanfiction Rec Masterlist

This is my personal list of fanfiction recommendations. It's easy to get lost in the abyss of mindless, droning hate, and Pro-IC content in this fandom, and this is a safe space away from all of that.

All of these fics are free of Tamlin hate, and all of them are utterly beautiful, well-written and I love them.

Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra

A Court of Threads and Daises by @shi-daisy

Tragedy almost struck the Spring Court when Tamlin Evergreen tried to take his own life. Lucien Vanserra manages to save his former Lord, but not his power.

Now that the Spring Court has a new High Lord and the horrors of war are behind them, both Tamlin and Lucien agree to help the new heir navigate court life and attempt to rebuild the broken Spring Court, along with healing themselves.

They weren't expecting to fall back in love in the process.

A Second Chance by @goforth-ladymidnight

Modern ACOTAR AU – There is a reason that Tamlin disappeared from Lucien's life seven years ago. Lucien just doesn't know what it is. They were more than college roommates; they were best friends. Now, a chance encounter in a bookstore leaves both of them wondering if they can pick up where they left off. A new year is right around the corner, but there is no wiping Tamlin's slate clean. Featuring Jurian and Vassa in supporting roles, this is not a story of redemption, but of finding love—and forgiveness—in the most unlikely of places.

Lovely and Lonely by @praetorqueenreyna

"In hindsight, Lucien thinks he fell in love with Tamlin the moment he first laid eyes on him."

**************************

Lucien Vanserra must come to terms with his sexuality, and his complicated feelings for High Lord Tamlin.

A Court of Choices Made by Anonymous

Lucien decides to go after Tamlin to pick a fight after his first Winter Solstice with the Night Court.

I see red, I see nothing by AngryRamen

Lucien travels to Amarantha’s domain to try and bid for peace between her and the courts of Prythian. It doesn’t go well.

Still Beautiful, Still Mine by @goforth-ladymidnight

\Vanserra. ACOTAR AU - In the weeks following his visit to Amarantha’s Court Under the Mountain, Lucien is still recovering from the loss of his eye. Nuan has made him a replacement out of gold, but the scars on his face are there to stay. When Tamlin comes to see him, Lucien cannot help but relive the events that brought them to this point, if only he could focus on what's standing right in front of him...

A Sunbeam Shining Bright Into the Night by @nocasdatsgay

After the Great Rite ritual is completed, Tamlin always goes back to the Manor to see if Lucien is waiting for him. This year he is.

Forbidden by @nocasdatsgay

Calanmai has come once again, but Tamlin isn’t focused on the females waiting for him.

Breezing on by Sprighnt (SliPuP_Slit)

His focus was shattered when Feyre dropped onto the bench next to him with a dramatic sigh, “You won’t even say hi after you ditched us last week?”

Lucien rolled his eyes at her antics, “I didn’t ditch you, I was studying for math. The exam of a subject that I need days to prepare for, remember? I didn’t think you’d even notice me gone, what with all the ogling that takes up your time in our practices.”

“Shut up!” She shushed him, glancing around wildly for any eavesdroppers, “what if he heard you?”

——— Lucien has settled into a routine now. He’s finally able to go back to competing after an accident that had him wondering if he’d ever be able to skate competitively again, he’s out of his hellish childhood home, and has friends that make him happy.

By the Fountain by Sprighnt_(SliPuP_Slit)

Tamlin is tired of stuffy dinner parties, luckily, he has his best friend, Lucien, to make things more interesting.

———

Tamlin took the time to look at Lucien, who was staring at an elegant fountain nearby. He examined the dip of his nose, the scrunch of his brows, the slight part of his lips that indicated he was contemplating something. Then Lucien’s mouth set in a firm line, meaning he’d made up his mind on whatever the issue was.

Lucien glanced back at him and Tamlin startled at being caught watching. He placed his hand gently on Tamlin’s arm, “I don’t think my father will plan one for me either.”

New Springs by Sprighnt_(SliPuP_Slit)

“I can’t be here for as long as you,” she clarifies, gesturing to the forest around them.

“You’re leaving?”

She shrugs, “It’s nice here, but my sisters, my father, they’re my only family. Even if they’re, a little difficult at times, and I don’t want to hurt Tam. I was really in love with him, but, to put it plainly, I’m not like you.”

“Like me,” Lucien repeats, confused, “what do you mean?”

———

In another universe, an alternate timeline, Feyre says “I love you”, before she’s sent off and therefore breaks the curse the way it was supposed to be broken. Things are different.

absolution by @praetorqueenreyna

Things didn't work out between Feyre and Tamlin. Years later, they both find love in unexpected places

Beauteous Evening, Calm and Free by franklinarchive. Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra.

Tamlin heals and then he moves on.

Or, what if Sarah J. Maas hadn’t committed ‘character assassination’ against Tamlin?

When The Sun Came Up (I Was Looking At You) by pansexual_intellectual .

There was a slight choking sound from the Night Court side of the room, but when you looked, Lucien was expressionless, adjusting his doublet.

It was the worst idea you had ever had. In the shreds of your manor you dropped to your knees. He was gone in the morning, as you knew he would be.

a bridge between us by @yaralulu

“In less than a year, they’d already lost so many people, and yet they had to send another sentry beyond the wall today. And as they left, so did Tamlin. He’d once again left Lucien to tend to his wounds, and deal with his upcoming grief all his on own. He’d once again left Lucien alone in the manor, sorrowful and bitter and bubbling with worry he could no longer contain.

It’s why the sound of Tamlin winnowing back filled Lucien with relief like no other. Like releasing a breath he’d been holding for too long. Tamlin being home made Lucien feel like he could breathe again. No matter how hurt Lucien was by Tamlin, he’d always find himself standing outside his office, his need to see Tamlin overriding his common sense.”

Amidst the ruins of their fractured relationship, Lucien and Tamlin grasp for the fragile threads that once bound them together, desperately seeking solace in each other as they battle the curse placed upon Spring.

The Fox and The Hound by @samhatch

Every Fire Night since Lucien joined Spring Court, Tamlin has always sought him out to help release the last of the spirits that possessed him. But now that he's mated with Feyre, Tamlin won't need Lucien's help anymore... Or will he? ********************************************************** “I thought you wouldn’t come.” I admitted. I tried to keep my heart from beating too quickly, knowing his heightened senses could hear it. He said nothing in reply, and walked slowly toward me. As gently as the morning dew, he pressed his lips to mine, but I could feel the hunger behind it barely kept at bay. His scent filled my nose, trampled moss and lilac. “What about Feyre?” I asked. “She’s asleep,” he said as he crawled into my bed.

Violated by @sonics-atelier

Headcannon : Tamlin wakes up and when he sees Luciens red hair he's reminded of his experiences with Amarantha .

Serenading by @sonics-atelier

Summary : Traditions dictate that the High Lord must serenade the fae they wish to woo as a partner for Calanmai.

Tamlin/Rhysand

Wildflower by @mathiwrites.

Five hundred years before Feyre’s arrival in Prythian, the humans fought against Faeries, led by the King of Hybern, for their Freedom. Tamlin is only seven years old when the war begins, but his family’s involvement and a fated friendship with a handsome young Lord from the Night Court will change his life forever. This is the story of how he becomes the High Lord you know and love, and the redemption story nobody asked for.

TL;DR - before they were enemies, they touched butts.

A strange thing happened the night of the High Lord meeting by @umthisistheonlyusernamenottaken.

Tamlin shook his head, a small smile on his full lips. “You forget that we were closer than friends once. I know your face. Even when you think you’re being so clever, hiding behind that mask of impassivity, I see you.”

He snarled, even as his heart began to beat faster as the other male approached him.

“You think I didn’t see you? You couldn’t stop looking at me during that meeting.” He took another step closer, and his next words were tinged with playfulness, a hint of the Tamlin he’d used to know.

“Were you thinking of that night too?”

He froze. “What?”

In the Eyes of My Beloved by Alynaw66.

I promise, Rhysand sighs into his mouth; Then down onto the slight curve between his neck and shoulder. Tamlin shivers, feeling dazed. Overwhelmed.

“Another offer,” he begins, one hand sliding down to grip Tamlin’s narrow waist.

(Also fun fact about this fic, I was brought to Tumblr because of a link in the notes, so without this fiction I wouldn't be here)

Stay or Go? by SoulOfStars.

Both of their families are dead. Rhysand decides to stay. They fuck in the second chapter.

Burning Batter by Sprighnt_(SliPuP_Slit).

Rhysand comes over to make cupcakes with Tamlin for Feyre’s upcoming New Year’s party.

A Court of Lies and Resurrection by @ashintheairlikesnow.

AU: Feyre is dead, torn apart by Amarantha when Tamlin did not send her away in time. Tamlin, forced to submit to Amarantha's terms, finds himself looking for help (and finding affection) in places he never expected, while Lucien allies with an ancient enemy (and one of Rhys's closest friends) to save him. WARNING Extensive explicit adult content, sexual situations, violence, MA

Colors in a Dead Garden by @fourteentrout.

"It is not just an ancient enchantment that they’re dealing with, it is not just an incompetent, broken High Lord that never even asked for his position. It is the fall of the Spring Court."

With the fate of the mortal lands--and possibly the rest of Prythian--at stake, Rhysand has to confront the Court that has caused so much of his pain and suffering. The male whose claws have sunk into Rhysand's life time and time again over the centuries.

For Prythian, Rhysand finds that he has to reckon with parts of himself and his past that he's been burying for hundreds of years, and find the cure to a curse from another time in the process.

The Solution by @fourteentrout.

Nyx attends his first formal Courtly event as a grown Faerie. Well, as grown as a nineteen year old can be. His parents' past with their host remains shrouded in mystery, and Nyx finds that he develops a somewhat unruly attraction to the High Lord of the Spring Court.

It does not go how he expected it to.

AKA Nyx is unbearably horny and nothing works out in his favor. Tamlin, on the other hand...

no one left to grieve by @praetorqueenreyna.

A month after the tragedy that made both him and Tamlin High Lords, Rhysand returns to the Spring Court to finish the job.

***********

For Tamlin Week, Day 1: Heir of Spring

To have, to hold by @flowerflamestars.

“You picked the wrong one,” Tamlin laughed.

you up? by @praetorqueenreyna.

Tamlin accidentally texts a "personal" picture to Rhysand

Nighttime in Spring by star_stealing_girl.

A longing was in Tamlin’s green eyes, and his fingers twirled in the dark strands of Rhys’s hair. Rhys wondered if he, too, was remembering that magical Calanmai, so long ago that it was like a dream. Rhys seemed to feel the pulse of the drums in every beat of his heart. The singing and carousing was like a chant in his blood.

***

Rhys tries to convince Tamlin to participate in Calanmai this year, and the music and magic awaken old memories. Will it awaken a renewed desire between the two old friends? This fic is set a few years after the events of ACOSF, and is a short romance between Rhys and Tamlin.

Lay Me on the Cold Dark Earth by @witch-and-her-witcher

Maybe the whiskey had been spiked. Maybe Tamlin was hallucinating on faerie dust right now and Rhys wasn't actually asking what he thought he was.

Rhys snarled with the darkness of his powers behind it.

Tamlin snarled right back, the beast instinctually roaring beneath his too-tight skin.

"I'm asking for that," Rhys said, unrelenting. "I want you to unleash that beast begging to stretch its legs."

Darling by @lifeisabiscuit

A different view of what could have happened when Rhysand visited Tamlin in fas.

Nyx/Tamlin

A Court of Chaos and Darkness by @witch-and-her-witcher.

Fate isn't done screwing with Tamlin's life, but this time the collateral is his ex-lovers son.

The heir of the Night Court knows something is wrong with him that his family won't tell him and Nyx is ready to come out of the dark.

Cosmogeny by @highlordofkrypton

The world is in ruins. Humans and Faeries pick at each other’s teeth until the bone is whittled from flesh and all that is left is blood in their wake. They had been created equal, once. To think, they’d all fall prey to their own hubris. This is not what the Goddesses wanted. To Prythian, they are sending scouts to decide whether their world is worth saving, or whether it should be devoured and remade anew.

This is a dark fantasy, eldritch horror fic that may end up being unserious more often than not.

Tamlin/Eris Vanserra

The longest Day of the Week by Yooijo.

Now, Eris grew up in what could only be described as a heteronormative society. And while he had his fair share of escapades, he tended to follow the rules and stick to tits and slits, with the occasional fumble between friends where he put the emphasis on being fumbled with and never touching another man’s dick.

So, instead of mauling Tamlin’s junk with his teeth, he sat there, stiff like a board in every aspect, eating his soup and looking at Tamlin like he wanted to burn the world and dance naked on the ashes.

///

What Eris and Tamlin are up to after the evil, very bad, not good king of Hybern is defeated.

heaven sent a hurricane by @praetorqueenreyna. Vanserra. After his family is killed and he is crowned High Lord, Tamlin struggles to keep his Court under his control. (Un)Luckily for him, Eris Vanserra steps in to help.

Tamlin/Tarquin

A Court of Beasts and Chances by M4r0u_Mar.

About a Beast who must be prince and a Prince who wants to be beast. About a Prince who learns of second chances and a Beast who learns of redemption. About looking for love and finding it in the journey rather than the destination.

Or the one where I rewrite ACOTAR to make Tamlin and Tarquin mates.

Tamlin/Feyre Archeron

The Gown by @goforth-ladymidnight

"I really, truly hated my wedding gown. It was a monstrosity of tulle and chiffon and gossamer, so unlike the loose gowns I usually wore: the bodice fitted, the neckline curved to plump my breasts, and the skirts… The skirts were a sparkling tent, practically floating in the balmy spring air." ~ A Court of Mist and Fury by Sarah J. Maas

A somewhat canon-compliant look at what Tamlin might have said or done when he sees Feyre in "The Dress" for the very first time. Inspired by a prompt on Tumblr.

Nesta Archeron/Tamlin

A House of Flame and Flower by Mellowenglishgal.

“Spare me the self-righteous lecturing, Feyre. You and your new family believe yourselves superior: that anyone who is not deemed worthy by you must bow or be eliminated. I refuse to bow to those I do not respect: and I owe none of you any such obligation. Nor am I obligated to remain where my autonomy is threatened,” Nesta sighed, gentle yet commanding, her voice low and steady and unyielding. “I renounce all ties to the Night Court. From now on, you are no longer my sister.”

“Where will you go?” Feyre snapped, but Nesta saw it: the sudden realisation that Nesta meant every word.

“That is no longer your business. Goodbye, Feyre,” Nesta said softly. She rose to her feet, elegant as an empress despite her unkempt clothing. As she stared down her youngest sister, Nesta caressed the delicious power shimmering like slumbering embers deep in her heart, until her veins sang with silver fire, pure light, blistering heat, deadly yet silent.

Flame was silent: everything it met shattered and snapped, disintegrating, unable to withstand it.

She was flame. She was undiluted, unrefined, unapologetic power.

She told Feyre, “You will not hear from me again.”

Nesta Archeron/Eris Vanserra

A Court of Blaze & Sorrow by @shi-daisy

(Sequel to A Court of Threads & Daisies)

Nesta Acheron had known from early childhood she'd be wearing a mask. She thought she'd wear it for the rest of her life. Until she tore it off on the eve of her wedding. Intending to stop Rhysand's plans to become High King, she takes to the Autumn Court, where she finds more that she bargained for with the Vanserra family. Particularly Eris Vanserra.

Eris wore his mask to keep everything and everyone in place hoping that one day he'd inherit the Autumn Court from his cruel father and changed it for the better. He didn't know fate had diffrent plans for him when Lady Nesta Acheron sought him out to end Rhysand's tyranny.

Free from Night's grasp the pair must navigate Court life, family drama and romance, hoping to mend both their lives and hearts.\

With a Sense of Poise and Rationality by @kateprincessofbluewhales

Nesta finds herself, yet again, with her life turned upside down on her and Cassian's wedding day. One shot exapanded!

Other

In This Peace Series by @trshtffc, the first fiction in the series is completed The Sorceress . Tamlin/Original Female Character.

Seven years after ACOWAR, Spring Court is struggling to keep from falling apart completely. A mother tries to move on and keep her daughter safe in this chaotic world, but when the young female most needs a friend, she'll give the disgraced High Lord a chance to attone for the pain he has caused, and, perhaps, to finally heal.

TW for - mentions of suicidal thoughts - mentions of loss of a pregnancy - mentions of sexual abuse - mentions of emotional abuse (toxic relationships and toxic family dinamics) - colourism - LGBT+phobia

Needle & King by @highlordofkrypton. Rhysand's father/Rhysand's mother.

Before A Court of Thorns and Roses and before Wildflowers, Needle & King is a story of survival and of love. We all know how it ends for Rhysand's mother and his father, but how did it all begin?

***

Everyone feel free to add to this!!!

[praetorqueenreyna]

devour, Eris Week Day 3: Fire

YES I am a day late, NO I do not want to hear about it. Time is fake. Anyway, please enjoy some Tamris Calanmai shenanigans!

@erisweek2023

Read here on AO3!!!

A steady drumbeat filled the air, vibrating every molecule in Eris’s body. Hundreds of faeries milled about in the glade ahead of him. The bonfires scattered over the hillside cast a harsh orange light on everyone’s face and threw monstrous shadows on the grass. Some fae were dancing, their bodies twisting in time with the rhythmic pulse of the drum. It was no wonder the humans feared fae as something otherworldly. There was a certain allure to the primal ritual.

In Autumn, Fire Night was a dull affair. The High Lord presided over a singular bonfire, and fae lined up to throw pieces of paper on which they had written their sins into the flames. It was meant to be a symbolic night of atonement and rebirth. However, like most other Autumn Court holidays, it was stuffy and somber. This was what it meant to be fae. Wild. Uninhibited. Free.

Eris lingered at the edge of the celebration, content to simply watch for now. High Fae and lesser fae socialized freely. Many wore provocative, colorful clothing that exposed more than it covered. Many also wore nothing at all. It was overwhelming in the best way. The magic of the evening was already affecting him; he was feverishly hot and his heart was pounding in time with the everpresent drum.

“You came!” A voice sweet as honey exclaimed in his ear. Tamlin was grinning, his youthful joy at odds with the sensual energy of the rite. He was a character right out of a human fairytale. HIs long silk hair was wild and intertwined with flowers, and vines with bioluminescent buds were woven around his antlers, creating a sparkling network of stars. His only article of clothing was a pair of green pants. His torso and feet were bare. It was the first time Eris had seen him without any weapons strapped to his hip or across his chest.

Some time ago, after multiple conversations between their fathers that neither of them were invited to be a part of, Tamlin had been dumped on Eris as a prince-in-progress. They hoped that Eris would be able to teach the Spring Lord’s youngest some courtly manners, and strengthen the relationship between the two courts. Tamlin had been belligerent at first, but he quickly learned that Eris loathed his father as much as Tamlin loathed his, and soon after settled on them being friends. It was obvious that Tamlin needed court training in any capacity. Not only was he stubborn and brash, but he was far too trusting. It would have been ridiculously easy for Eris to take advantage of Tamlin’s naiveté. Somehow, Eris found Tamlin endearing. He reminded Eris of his smokehounds: loyal, a little dumb, but too sweet to even raise a voice against.

However, something shifted the first time they had sparred against each other. He knew that Tamlin spent most of his time in his father’s war band, but was under the impression that he was there for his name only, likely sitting in a tent giving orders to soldiers that were completely ignored. When they fought, Eris glimpsed the well of power that Tamlin carefully concealed. The Spring prince contained multitudes that not even his family was aware of. It was intoxicating.

Tamlin had mentioned Calanmai during their last meeting, casually describing the decadent orgy in a way that would have had any Autumn Court nobles blushing. He lowered his voice when he talked about the male he had bedded the previous year: a water nymph who had dragged him to the bottom of the lake and breathed air into his lungs so that they could fuck for hours without coming to the surface. Hot jealousy had roiled in Eris’s gut, and when Tamlin had suggested that Eris visit the event for himself, he knew that he was going to go. He had waved it off and implied that he could not promise anything, but he would go.

And now he was here, the magic of the evening skittering under his skin like a myriad of insects. He understood why the attending fae wore so little clothing. The rasp of fabric against his hypersensitive skin was painful. Tamlin was obviously affected as well; a red flush spread across his muscled chest and up to the tips of his ears.

The drumbeat changed from a slow pounding to a faster staccato. Tamlin grabbed Eris’s hand. “He’s back, the rite is starting!” Eris allowed himself to be dragged towards the bulk of the crowd. Fae gathered around the opening of a cave, jostling for space. Lining the path leading up to the cave’s mouth were two dozen women, kneeling patiently on the ground. Furthest from the cave’s entrance was Tamlin’s mother, Melena, poised as delicately as a marble statue.

Tamlin’s father, Theon, emerged from the nearby woods. Magic flickered around him, striking the ground with sparks. A white stag was draped across his shoulders. The creature’s slit throat spilled blood down Theon’s body. He carelessly dropped the stag on the ground, ignoring the priestesses that scurried in to prepare it for sacrifice. His head tilted towards the sky, nostrils flaring, already eager for the next stage of the rite. The drums were pounding so quickly there was no time between one beat and the next. Eris’s heartbeat had sped up to match it.

Theon prowled to the beginning of the line of maidens. With preternatural speed, he swooped down and picked up his wife, throwing her over his shoulders where the stag had lay only moments before. As the Spring Lord made his way to the cave, Eris wondered if he ever picked somebody other than his mate. The lack of surprise and disappointment among the other females suggested that he didn’t.

“C’mon, let’s dance!” Eris tore his attention away from the cave’s entrance, where a curtain had dropped into place to hide whatever was going on inside from the view of the revelers. Tamlin had been holding onto his hand this whole time, and he used it to once again pull Eris to the heart of the celebration. They joined the mass of bodies writhing around the largest bonfire. The carnal magic of the rite pulsated through the glade, increasing in strength with the activities going on in the cave. The fae around them began to grope and grind, frantically seeking partners to help them succumb to the primitive urge the rite compelled them to.

Somehow, Eris had ended up in Tamlin’s arms. He had lost his tunic and shoes along the way, and the twine holding his hair back had fallen out. Tamlin’s hands were on his waist, searing hot against Eris’s bare flesh. The Spring prince’s eyes were glazed with lust. His body was tense, fighting to keep from unleashing the full force of his desire. Eris didn’t want him to fight.

“Let’s go somewhere else,” Eris suggested. It was his turn to take Tamlin by the hand as he led them into the woods. Some of the more bashful fae had also retreated to the shelter of the forest. The sounds of pleasure echoed through the trees, bolstering Eris’s own lust. There was a single rational thought left in his head, which was that he and Tamlin could absolutely, under no circumstances, be seen. Still, the second that they were far enough from everyone that they could no longer hear the festivities, Eris pulled Tamlin into a hungry kiss. Tamlin opened up to him,devouring, threatening to overwhelm him. He wasn’t the only one craving more. Eris bit Tamlin on the lip, hard enough to bleed. Tamlin growled and slammed Eris back against the nearest tree.

“Fuck, yes,” Eris moaned. The sharp sting of bark digging into the naked skin on his back only intensified his pleasure. He repeated the litany over and over as Tamlin sank to his knees in front of him. He gazed up at Eris with emerald eyes, worshipfully taking in how Eris fell apart in his hands.

“Fuck yes, fuck yes, fuck, fuck FUCK!”

Eris woke up in an unfamiliar bed with a headache. Not an unusual occurrence for him, unfortunately. He glanced around, taking stock of his surroundings. The room was sparsely decorated with green drapings and furniture. Weapons of all kind were hung on the walls and scattered across every surface. Next to him slept a naked god with golden hair. The flowers and vines that had decorated Tamlin were scattered in the bed. He must have winnowed them back to his bedroom in the manor, just before Eris had fallen asleep, sated.

Tamlin shifted and mumbled in his sleep. Eris traced his fingers along that talented mouth, wondering what the daylight would bring. The magic of Calanmai was a convenient excuse to ignore everything and go back to the way things were. It would be the right thing to do. Anything beyond a quick fuck would spell disaster for both of them. Eris wasn’t sure he wanted that though.

The mouth beneath his fingers twitched. “I can tell you’re awake,” Eris admonished, smiling despite himself. Tamlin opened his eyes and stretched, his back arching so deliciously that Eris was sure he was doing it on purpose.

“Good morning,” he mumbled. He pulled Eris in for a long, luxurious kiss. Eris tangled his fingers in the other male’s hair, deciding that whatever they needed to talk about, it could wait.

[tamlinweek]

Tamlin Week Day 5 Master List

Storytime by @shi-daisy (AO3)

Tamlin and Rhysand by @dopeartisanprincess

Tamlin did nothing wrong by @copypastus

Let the Light In by @andrigyn (AO3)

Lonely, Evermore by @acotardeservesbetter (AO3)

Ad Astra Per Aspera by @songofthesibyl (AO3)

Isolation moodboard by @heartheartboom

heaven sent a hurricane by @praetorqueenreyna (AO3)

Reminders of Love by @dark-empress-justice (AO3)

A New Song of Spring by @thisstrangehistory (AO3)

[secret-third-thing]

9 more days until I move and can have my cringy eris wall

also im dropping a tamris fic soon. don't sue me. I have plans for neris, azris, and ...cassris? (is that the name?) for this year. one of my fanfic goals was to write eris in 4 separate ships soooo.

[yaralulu]

This was like a mini interview; thank you so much for putting it together!! I really had to think for some of these questions hehe.

1. What are some of your favorite shows/movies?

Some of my favorite shows are: The Vampire Diaries, House MD, Interview with the Vampire,Greys Anatomy, Tell Me Lies, Criminal Minds and Hannibal. Lengthy list LOL.

2.What are your favourite books?

I only started reading books less than a year ago so I haven’t read much and nothing amazing really LOL. So this list is embarrassing to say the least BUT I’m working on it!! I’m a big fan of the “The Hunger Games” books, “The Serpent and the Wings of Night”, and ngl the first acotar book LOL.

3. What about movies?

I’m not huge on movies (more of a show person) but “The Hunger Games” movies have a very special place in my heart. A few of the marvel movies as well, specifically “Spider-man: No Way Home” and “Captain America and The Winter Soldier.”

4. Why is Tamcien your favourite ship over other ACOTAR ships?

Ok this this is something I can ramble about hehe. I absolutely love how complicated their relationship is and how despite everything they’re still trying to make it work. like the odds are completely against them but they refuse to let go of one another. They clearly hold so much love for each other and the amount of loyalty Lucien specifically has towards Tamlin just does something to me. I genuinely view them as two ppl who cannot exist without the other (and there’s a slightly toxic element to this which i thoroughly enjoy. SUE ME). I also love all the history they have together and how that history shows as they interact and when they talk about each other. They simply know the other person like the back of their hand. They need each other.

5. Do you ship Tamlin with other characters? What about Lucien?

I ship these two with half of the damn characters 😭. Tamsand/ Tamris/ Feylin. Elucien/ Luzriel/Lucnes. I’m a multishipper to my coreee.

6. Who are your non-ACOTAR otps?

I had to dig DEEP to remember some of these. Dazai/ Chuuya from BSD, Childe/Zhongli from Genshin Impact, Dabi/Shigaraki from MHA, Stefan/ Elena, Klaus/Caroline, Captain America/ Bucky (omg??? i’m unlocking memories), Levi/Erwin from AOT.

ok i’m done

7. What is a Tamcien premise you never got around to writing but is on your list?

Any scenario in which Tamlin shifts into a female or he shifts Lucien into a female and they have very hot sex 😄.The smut would be outrageously hot like walk with me here.

8. Which of your fics are you most fond or most proud of?

Is it naughty if I say something I’ve yet to post 🫣? bc it’s totally something I’ve yet to post but you’ll see it in two weeks time i swear!!

9. As a writer, what is something that you enjoy when reader other fics?

Good dialogue/banter!! Especially when it comes to characters like Lucien who have that sort of witty personality and comebacks. I love tension, whether it’s sexual or not. I want to be gnawing at my screen when I’m reading. Like fully giggling and kicking my feet. Or screaming and crying.

10. What is your favourite fanfic of all time? If you have many, please share them! For research...

This is my fav topic ever. I’m gonna list out the same ones I did for the tamlinweek post bc they really are my favorites!! Colors in a Dead Garden by fourteentrout (i think about this fic like 7 times a day no joke. cannot recommend it enough). Soap Bubble by SorcerySmithereens. Hedonism by A_ Chaotic_Human. A strange thing happened the night of the High Lord meeting by umthisistheonlyusernamenottaken

I feel like these will show you exactly my taste in fics fr.

11. What is a fanfic that surprised you? Why?

Am i allowed to say something that’s not tamcien or tamlin related bc…Rhysand Is The Most Handsome High Lord... by the_darkestminds takes the cake for sure. No words just read this for yourself.

12. What is your favourite NSFW dynamic? Any favourite kinks?

Everyone look away! I enjoy a clear dom/sub dynamic. Dirty talk is very sexy to me, whether it’s Praise/degradation I don’t have a preference. Bondage and exhibitionism is also very hot lol. Hair pulling, biting, light name calling. Yep.

13. Do you think you know the identity of your secret santa? hihi

GENUINELY NO CLUE. I had my guesses at first but nothing rn. I’m very very curious 🙏

14. Quick, if Tamcien adopted a pet together, what would they name it? Don't think, just name!

muffin (???? terrible name)

15. Do the same thing, but for a Tamcien baby, quick quick!

oliver (??? EVEN WORSE)

16. What about favourite anime? If you didn't name anime OTPs above, share them here too!

Ahh I love animes. Some of my favorites are: My Hero Academia , Given, Bungou Stray Dogs, Attack on Titan, Haikyuu!

17. Do you ever think of Tamlin and Lucien in lingerie?

Not until this very moment omg?? I think that’d be hot and I see the vision.

18. What's your favourite color?

Purple and pale pink!!

19. Do you have a Lucien or a Tamlin fancast?

I really don’t like thinking of them as real ppl in my head, it kinda ruins the experience for me LOL. But sam reid would be my Tamlin fancast but I honestly have never seen anyone who reminds me of Lucien.

20. Do you accept early gifts?

Ofc! I don’t mind!!

21. How willing are you to adventure with me with this gifts?

VERYYY WILLING!! I’m very excited to go through this with you.

hi @yaralulu, i made this questionnaire for u to help me with ur gift!!

What are some of your favourite shows/movies?

What are your favourite books?

What about movies?

Why is Tamcien your favourite ship over other ACOTAR ships?

Do you ship Tamlin with other characters? What about Lucien?

Who are your non-ACOTAR otps?

What is a Tamcien premise you never got around to writing but is on your list?

Which of your fics are you most fond or most proud of?

As a writer, what is something that you enjoy when reader other fics?

What is your favourite fanfic of all time? If you have many, please share them! For research...

What is a fanfic that surprised you? Why?

What is your favourite NSFW dynamic? Any favourite kinks?

Do you think you know the identity of your secret santa? hihi

Quick, if Tamcien adopted a pet together, what would they name it? Don't think, just name!

Do the same thing, but for a Tamcien baby, quick quick!

What about favourite anime? If you didn't name anime OTPs above, share them here too!

Do you ever think of Tamlin or Lucien in lingerie!

What's your favourite color?

Do you have a Lucien or a Tamlin fancast?

Do you accept early gifts?

How willing are you to adventure with me with this gift(s) :3

[mazurah]

Return False - A Bethesda Forum Transcript of Important Lore Posts

Basic Summary: Have you ever noticed that we jump from the Pocket Guide to the Empire 1st Edition directly to the Pocket Guide to the Empire 3rd Edition? Ever wonder why that is? This is a record of what remains of the reputedly heretical Pocket Guide to the Empire 2nd Edition, and a glimpse at the Imperial controversy and coverup surrounding it. Also included is an additional document which appears to have replaced a part of the Pocket Guide to the Empire 2nd Edition during its transmission to the Elder Council which hints at the events of the Middle Dawn.

It gets weird. Khajiit in space weird. Thalmor weird. Messages from the future and/or a dead timeline weird.

No really, what in Oblivion is this actually? Okay well, this is basically semi-official lore. The official Bethesda forums are doing a reboot, and we’re about to lose a whole bunch of content. There’s stuff on there that I love and refer to often for my fanfics and worldbuilding, so I’m posting a copy here for posterity. I’m keeping the formatting and timestamps completely intact, and manually reconstructing any lost formatting–including italicization, which is actually important to some of this.

Conspiracies, time shenanigans, and Khajiit moon colonies after the cut!

Merry Eyesore the Elk Posted 01 January 2012 - 08:59 PM

EDITOR’S NOTE: The following is a transcription of a note folded inside a manuscript of the Pocket Guide to the Empire, Second Edition. The manuscript, commissioned by the Empress Morihatha in the fourteenth year of her reign, was infamously left unpublished due to the scandalous nature of its contents – a product, many would say, of the Imperial Geographic Society taking far too literally its assignment to “modernize the claim that [Tamri-el] was in fact a unified Empire” (the role of the Septims in suppressing this vital document cannot be overstated; it is but one of many pieces of evidence against the Empire burnt to ashes by the Dragon’s acrid breath). The note, along with the manuscript, was found in the bowels of a forbidden library of the Moth Chantry, hidden from sight between two massive tomes of indecipherable paleographemes. The discoverer was a confrater of the Temple installed in a convenient position as an agent provocateur. Upon recovering the texts he immediately channeled them to Temple Zero via high-priority glyphstream, as per Null Oath protocols. Unfortunately, contact with him was subsequently lost. Yet even more unfortunate is a delay in the propagation of the Truth! While the Temple’s mnemographers were able to decrypt the abnegaurbic doctrines of the note, the Pocket Guide remains a puzzle to our scribes even as you read this. Certain complications that arose at the end of its transmission have made the transcription process difficult – in passages, it can be difficult to distinguish the original text from the sender’s hectic fever dreams. It is the work of the Empire’s sleepers, no doubt: their touch venomous, their tendrils crawling through every pocket of the dreamsleeve.  The note appears to be the minutes of a secret meeting of the Elder Council held in 3E331 in which the membership of the Geographic Society were convicted of treason and the Pocket Guide was suppressed by Council edict. How they fear the Truth, who came to Power by clawing it to tatters! But they failed, of course, for the lovers of the Truth are many; though we know not who spited the Dragon by saving it, they who preserved these texts have embodied the heart of our Manifesto (and, indeed, may have helped bring it about.) And now the Temple has found it appropriate to publish its contents, that all of Tamri-el might see the Truth with eyes unveiled – for it is in the Truth that we are free from the mythopoeic enslavement of Talos and his co-conspirators, free from all Opression! NU-MANTIA! FREEDOM! NU-MANTIA! FREEDOM! NU-MANTIA! FREEDOM! NU-MANTIA! FREEDOM! NU-MANTIA! FREEDOM! NU-MANTIA! FREEDOM!

*** Here you will find the foundation for your new Temple. ECMB-MRA: mnemonic daedron-capacitance memospore classification xD15JMo0JfiX cogitocode: a gnarled tibrol tree against the sunset, overlooking a lake; try to feel melancholy “fk00-54bQ15” ZERO-SUM VENTURE… RETURN FALSE… VERIFICATION 1 “f000-50bQ15” FEXFEINT ENABLED… RETURN TRUE… VERIFICATION 8 “f000-000015” WATERWORD WARD… RETURN TRUE… VERIFICATION 0 “0000-000000” ACCESS GRANTED RELEASING MEMOSPORE xxxx0001010101010101xxxxx0111100101010111xx101010xxxx0101010100x0x0x00010x00x0x0 x01000x00x00x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0010xxMINUTES of a meeting of the Most-Esteemed ELDER COUNCIL, forever lieges and loyal servants fraternal of Her Most Honored and Exalted the EMPRESS SEPTIM MORIHATHA, Chosen of White-Gold and the Amulet of Kings, Sovereign of the Ruby Throne, Lord of Cyrodiil and her Dominions, etc., etc., Held TWENTY-EIGHTH OF MID-YEAR in the THREE HUNDRED AND THIRTY-FIRST YEAR of the Empire of Men, transcribed and annotated by an adjunct of His Lordship the GOVERNOR-GENERAL OF WEYE-UPON-RUMARE, Master of the Hamlet-Across-The-Way, Most-Esteemed Among Equals of the Minor Council, etc., etc., FOR THE EYES OF FELLOW-COUNCILORS ONLY

Edited by Merry Eyesore the Elk, 01 January 2012 - 09:33 PM.

Merry Eyesore the Elk Posted 01 January 2012 - 09:32 PM

We, in this year 331 of the 3rd Era of the Empire Cyrodiilic, on the 28th of Mid-Year, have appeared before the Lord and High Chancellor Arboretumest-Best Ud-Maniphas Segu, representing in voice and authority our Empress Morihatha, hegemon of Cyrod and Cyrod and all its lawful territories under the Ruby Red Throne as established by Tiber Imperator, with the goal of forming an Elder Council consisting of the following persons:  Here we will dream-swell on a very, very long list of councilors with their respective positions and titles, and absentees, and councilors attending via trance, spectral representation, etc., except the following persons (hear-see: now), as they shall already be mentioned in those other estimable lists found now in your pockets save for the naked here assembled, etc., and the as-agreed-upon-in-amulet those members and delegates and strangely-beautiful silk concerns as writ in the council definitions for the legislative year 331. AND AS the aforementioned Elder Council having been called together by the Lord and High Chancellor Arboretumest-Best Ud-Maniphas Segu via priority dreamsleeve transmission and couriermoth, to take place outside of the regular calendar, though thereby not replacing the scheduled meeting on the 31st of Mid-Year AND UNDER the Corbolo Protocol of 3E 275, this council session is to be treated compliant with the standards of security class “E12 - ad hoc and highly classified��� and, thusly, SHALL be held in secret. Access to the session or its transcription must be denied to any citizen with Imperial clearance level smaller than or equal to 23b, as decreed in Subsection 4-B of the Concealment Clause of the Council Accords vis-à-vis the Corbolo Protocol. Does any present Councilor object to the aforementioned procedural enumeration? *****Elder Councilor Maganifly-Good One, Elder Councilor Ambassador Wood-Worth, and Elder Councilor Delphine IV have already presented their collected votes of “Nay.” What say the others? Elder Councilor Trails-his-Graves seeks to initiate a vote of “Nay” – let us now be interrupted by an unseen cascade resonance in the echo-stream of his dreamsleeve transmission. Very good. Elder Councilor Maganifly-Good One, Elder Councilor Ambassador Wood-Worth, and Elder Councilor Delphine IV, along with Our Ceremonial Guard here-now named and/or title Afternoon Nap and an adjunct to Elder Councilor Ambassador Wood-Worth here-now named and/or titled for this time-being, Circumference Comfort, now may proceed to assist Elder Councilor Trails-his-Graves in re-establishing a stable link. Make it happen, people. Ah, very good. Unfortunately we must laugh now, and in a great volume, DO IT, as Adjunct Circumference Comfort has received injuries amounting to a minor concussion and third-degree burns along his thigh and needs to be escorted out of the Council chambers. Goodbye with you, good sir. Upon re-establishment of all links, a cloture vote shall be re-instated as per Sub-Protocol 343 of the Laws of Triangulation, wherein all members may present their votes. There is a unanimous NAY. Good for all of us. Very, very good. The Empress will be and is already pleased yesterday. Our Proceedings May Resume.**** 

Edited by Merry Eyesore the Elk, 01 January 2012 - 09:34 PM.

Merry Eyesore the Elk Posted 01 January 2012 - 09:42 PM

High Chancellor Arboretumest-Best Ud-Maniphas Segu: “All members of the Imperial Geographic Society that undertook the sacred act of the penmanship of the Second Pocket Guide via Imperial Command (in writing, no less): You are hereby given the right to defend your actions before the Elder Council.” Imperial Geographic Society Editor [NYMIX NOW ZERO’D]: “If I may, on behalf of – ” High Chancellor Arboretumest-Best Ud-Maniphas Segu: “Let it be known that the right to trial was conferred upon the defendants. How does this Council rule? Elder Council Collective: "Guilty.” High Chancellor Arboretumest-Best Ud-Maniphas Segu: “The matter of guilt having been settled, how does this Council move to sentence the defendants?” Elder Council Collective: “Death, effective immediately.” High Chancellor Arboretumest-Best Ud-Maniphas Segu: “The Council has ruled. Guards?”

Merry Eyesore the Elk Posted 01 January 2012 - 09:51 PM

Hatta of The Sphinxmoth Inquiry Tree: “High Chancellor, ENOUGH! If I may first address to all assembled or in state ad semblio, I would request of the Council the reason that We have overlooked the need for an encoded Verification Return False for the Belharzaharm?” Lord Jak Candlestick of the Western Wax, the Eastern Wax, the Southern Wax, but Not Yet of the Northern Wax: “Silence, Hatta! We are already in session. All here know your affinity for the son of the Aleshut (pauses for hymnals thirty and eight) but you have no right to–” Hatta of The Sphinxmoth Inquiry Tree: “Acausal Interrupt! I will not allow these proceedings to be compromised by future scrying, nor to allow you to ignore silks uncounted since–"  Ghost Counsel Choir (Blade-Seneschal and above): "Peli-NULL. Hatta is dead. Move to formation of NU-Hatta post-assembly by his brethren blessed. 331 High Chancellor regains the floor.” High Chancellor Arboretumest-Best Ud-Maniphas Segu: “Thank you in the utmost of that ideal, Ghost Choir. No doubt, we are all in a moment of woe. Let me mourn for– all right, I’m done. I shall now invoke the name of the Hasphat and most likely we will get sidetracked by talk of the Rim." 

Edited by Merry Eyesore the Elk, 02 January 2012 - 03:15 PM.

Merry Eyesore the Elk Posted 01 January 2012 - 10:13 PM

High Chancellor Arboretumest-Best Ud-Maniphas Segu: "HOLD! THE! CENTER! I have just been informed that Her Majesty has arrived in our heads. There we go! Ponder her! Now… where were we?" 

Edited by Merry Eyesore the Elk, 01 January 2012 - 10:15 PM.

[Transcriber note: The link in the above post was dead when I got to it. I have no idea what was in it. If anybody does know, please message me.]

Temple Zero Posted 02 January 2012 - 09:34 AM

█╪₧HHH.;–?-/–ul-……0. Infrasleeve B6-125: Channel granted. Though its existence was never questioned, the invisible walls of Empire have kept the above document beyond the reach of the Society for far too long. We thank confrater Elk (extension of the Null Oath to Cervidae pending) for his efforts in safely and discreetly carrying these texts across the Jeralls and for restoring our access to the local infrasleeve thought-anchors. Now that the Society once again has a foothold in the free North, we would like to celebrate the occasion by transmitting the remainder of the aforementioned unpublished Pocket Guide. Be forewarned that transmission will be fractured at best and may contain inaccuracies introduced by unreliable relays. Apart from the host of thalmorite counter-notions that traditionally monitor our channels, the material itself is subject to various cryptocharms installed in the Septim era, often under-maintained beyond repair. We advise confraters to make written copies as sleeve availability is not guaranteed. Attached: PGE-kht04fg, key=tamrlc_common, content=manuscript END: 0 ———– Tenders To The Mane: Lleswer The province of Lleswer and its heterogeneous catmen have always played a relatively minor role in the history of the Septim Empire or its prefigurations. The khajiit have populated Cyrodic folklore since time immemorial. Even in the earliest depictions of nedic tutelary tattoos they are represented as grotesque feline monsters, thought to be in league with -or indistinguishable from- the large cats that stalked the jungles of ancient Cyrod. However, it was not until the year 302 of the interregnum era that the cats first gathered behind the banner of a unified nation. The newly created state began as a precarious union of the Ne Quin-al desert, conquered single-handedly by the battlecat Dro'Sarrba Keirgo, and the vast estates of sugar queen Esjita in the Pallatiin wetlands. Negligent observers have often analyzed the short-lived "monarchy” of Esjita and Keirgo as a megalomaniac fantasy of its incompetent joint-rulers, who to sought to ape the Cyrod Empire in outward appearance rather than function. More important still than ignoring how Remanite Tamriel was falling apart at the time, this interpretation also turns a blind eye to the way in which disparateness had always been a way of life for the catfolk. In reality, the khajiit revolted because the union of Anequina and Pellitine required them to pledge allegiance to an abstract entity (the khajiit are capable of abstract thought, but on the whole find it dreadfully boring) and demanded of each of them the will to reconcile individual desires with the interests of the state. Against all expectations, the resulting ethnic turmoils were soon quelled by the spiritual leader of the catmen. In a remarkable display of administrative acumen, the Mane Rid-T'har-ri'Datta based the fledgling nation and its political groundwork on the moons, a diplomatic arrangement that was welcomed by all parties (see sidebar, The Riddle Thar and the birth of Lleswer). Under the urbane guidance of the Manes the country has since known an exceptional prosperity that made it one of the most tranquil, if secretive, of the provinces of the Septim Empire. Just like the Khajiit, who appear to foreign observers as endless variations on a single feline theme, the geography of Elsweyr is rife with subtle gradients that perhaps only the catfolk itself can properly distinguish. The province has thus entered popular imagination as a boundless stretch of desolate badlands. This sorry reputation is engendered largely by the fact that any cartographic expedition into Khajiit territory requires either meticulous metamundal vectors to travel by brute force, or the rare Imperial disposition to submit to a deep and prolonged sugar trance. More daring pioneers, however, report a fascinating landscape of silver sands, bathing in a plethora of colors our own atmosphere cannot permit. The north of the province is typified by powder dune seas, interspersed with crystalline mesas that provide homes for those cats who saw nomadic life as crucial to their definition of a perfect state. In the northeast the terrain gradually gives way to the broad gorge of the Niibna Twin, a river which now lies unused. The oases that dot the prairies in the center of the land are rumored to be among the most splendorous on the lunar surface and curiously retain the same indigo hue in the bright solar seasons, the fleeting shadow of Jode’s monthly passing or the cool slumber of the four month’s night. A remarkable phenomenon can be witnessed in these plains on certain blessed nights, when streams of aetheric refuse spontaneously combust in the pale nirnshine to form phantasms instructing the cats in the meanings of stars. Sidebar: The Riddle Thar and the birth of Lleswer The Ri'datta-ssabavezi, a khajiiti account of the unification of Lleswer, was sent to White-Gold Tower around 2E 310: So Mane saw that Khajiit was fighting itself more than usual and donned the hairs of his many littermates and his clan and his guards until he could bear no more and then palanquin-raced throughout the lands to repeat these words: “Woah-ho now, mad cat. You fight and fight but if you will give Mane just one moment, he will show something far better, for the Mane has had many hours and fine sugar to think this over. Come now, Palatiit; come now, Ne Quiniit. Together, just this once, Khajiit will stand tall as Alkosh, cat upon cat upon cat. And in doing so, it will climb to the moon as it has been told so many times.” Khajiit saw reason in these words and so it climbed and climbed, cat upon cat, for a hundred days. Much sugar was brought there to support the climbers and in the end Khajiit climbed high, so very high that it was in fact closer to Jo'Segunda than to Nirni below. At that moment, little Alfiq fell upwards and from there on Khajiit helped Khajiit up, which was down, until all were gathered there. This is where Khajiit intends to stay from now on, for who could know strife when walking sugar and not sand? Places of Interest Senchal Senchal, a bustling metropolis at the tip of the Quin Rall, is the most mundane of Lleswer’s cities and the commercial hub of the nation. For lack of a better word, the city’s structure can only be described as a heap. To anyone but the nimble khajiit, navigating the heart of Senchal is an unsettling trek across ramshackle bridges and narrow ledges, via ladders and ropes and through dank tunnels, alleys and – more often than not – private residences.  Curiously, where appearances are concerned, Senchal does not live up to its reputation as a port city. Even in seas of their own design, the khajiit are largely adverse to naval enterprises. Instead, traffic between Lleswer and other provinces is primarily managed through the nirnstrand terminus at the very tip of the peninsula. Though sugar-fibril transport is an affordable and safe mode of transportation, non-khajiiti incoming passengers are exceptionally scarce. A popular tall tale in countless skooma dens holds that the only sizable band of Imperial visitors to the city was a delegation of diplomats in the early years of Septim Supreme’s reign. If this account holds even the smallest kernel of truth, it may well have been this event which provided Talos with the dangerous idea of recolonizing the carmine moon. Torval Torval covers one of the largest crater lagoons on Lleswer’s southern coast. Extending far into the shallow waters of the bay, the city is the focal point of the khajiiti sugar magics. As the dance of the two moons brings in the tide, slow molasses-like waves deposit sugar of a quality unknown or unknowable to our earth on the beach. The steep crater walls that cradle Torval on all sides merge into the sacchranite walls of the Lesser Palace. This enormous edifice, which sits upon the city like a brilliant crown, houses all of the Mane’s clan along with a host of servants and courtiers. Central in the Palace is the Mane’s private residence, a secluded retreat where he may occasionally dock to shed into a more manageable mortal form and indulge in nourishment or companionship. The Mane  By ancient tradition, all khajiit would shave off their own manes to tie them into the voluminous crest of their spiritual leader. By the late centuries of the Potentates, this custom had been reduced to a fraction of its original intent as increasing population raised obvious practical problems. After the khajiit had scaled heaven, however, such hindrances fell away and the practice was again extended to all of his two hundred million subjects. In his commonest guise, the Mane is a cilicious sphere of vast dimensions, a third moon among the stars of his Greater Palace. The location of the Satellite Lord changes constantly, orbiting Lleswer along a set but complex and indecipherable trajectory. The Mane encourages visitors to his sacred self and does not distinguish rank, gender or shape. At any time droves of khajiit, ranging from revered battlecats to modest sugar miners, can be found waiting at Torval’s Audience Tower for the first glimpse of him on the horizon. Many of these join the Mane on his journey for a while and watch as he shapes and reshapes the land. The interior is usually said to be ill-suited to a description in words and varies strongly between accounts. Some guests report a boundless swirl of hair, waving leisurely in pink sucrose vapors like kelp in water. Others recall strange geographies, hallways and inviting furnished rooms, which they never manage to visit more than once. On the Mane’s character opinions are undivided: wise beyond time, comforting, beautiful and perfect in any way imaginable. In the spirit of exhaustive research, an anonymous representative of the Imperial Geographic Society was sent to visit the Mane. The cat lord could only address her in glossobremia, but it remains unclear whether or not this is normally any different for the khajiit. What little could be recorded is reproduced below in a mere few lines, though our informant ensures us that the exchange lasted for many hours. Most of its meaning -if there is any- remains a mystery. “Welcome. I am such a fine thread you walk the tibrols ripen early this year beware they will not like the book Hatta-Sro’ cyrod blood runs thin so soon it will be a healthy boy you know the number Nabarr I am has your queen already given up on try to remember null for a banner she will always think of you even now everywhen farewell." 

Temple Zero Posted 05 January 2012 - 07:15 PM

Infrasleeve B9-02: Channel granted. Continuing transmission. The next fragment of the reputedly heretical Pocket Guide To The Empire is released with the express disclaimer that the Society cannot vouch for its origin or content. Where our confraters expected to find what they knew to be a heavily censored panegyric on the achievements of greater Cyrod, they instead discovered the following text, which appears entirely extraneous to the manuscript that was liberated from the Imperial archives. Indeed, by unknown means it seems to have supplanted the original article after the date of print, leaving only an orphaned introductory paragraph and a few blurred words behind. Though its exact origins may well remain a mystery, the Society has decided to disseminate its contents, if only to provide a more worthwhile read than the vapid bombast it accidentally (?) replaced. Attached: PGE-tyg72k, key=tamrlc_common, content=manuscript END: 0 ———– The Heart of Heaven and the Imperial Earth A description of Cyrodiil, the radiant heart of the Septim Empire and by far the most exhaustively researched of all the dominions of Tamriel, is no mean task. In the truly vast array of sources, anyone but the most astute analyst is easily overwhelmed by the accounts of political firebrands, unschooled bunglers and the occasional conspiracy-theorist. In their attempt to distill a reliable final product from a plethora of information, the authors of this book heeded the kind recommendations of the Imperial Council and our Majesty Empress Morihatha by adopting the acclaimed Seluriel Index (ed. 3E 326) as the standard for inclusion in the text below. If the history of the Imperial Province continues to enjoy a position of unparalleled prominence in academic writing, it is perhaps because it has come toso clear and so resolute a starting point the committee’s understanding scholars agree that your majesty has requested the attached look for document be upon her person at the moment of origin. The committee looks favorably on this idea. Our chief axiotects have established that your esteemed station may still find some cautious rapport with its baser circumfiguration in thefirst kingdom of Cyrod. With all our scarce resources spent on the preservation of the entire cyphermoth library, it is our hope that your majesty’s physical presence may provide the aforementioned text with some alternative method of reinsertion. Since the committee suspects this to be our last exchange, we would like to take the opportunity to inform your majesty that an agreement has been reached concerning the arbitrary refactoring of unknown into the idiosyncratic model of original intent. The number 1008 was unanimously elected as the most suitable proposal, in the belief that its connotations may appease the reconstructed slave god. On a related topic, the committee has privately funded a number of tunneling expeditions beyond our walls of White-Gold cosmos. The result of these sabotage campaigns, we hope, will ensure the swift demise of our order once the course of the Empire continues. For Your Majesty’s Eyes Only: Archivoptera Metaterrenea #4859-QI3-001, identification: “Tffirfetrk-Ih-Rfir-Tt-T”. No further copies present. Carrier prism is attuned to clearance level A1 or higher. It pains me that I must tell you this so soon. You are only just beginning; young and full of promise among the grand machinations of heaven. Perhaps I should have told you from the very start. The day may be legend to you, but I still recall that grand new moment, newer than ever before, when you stretched me across the stars and claimed the cosmos as your own. You were beautiful as rebels alone can be, and I have loved you ever since. I could not bear to see the wildfire of your hope extinguished then.  Still, it is time that you knew. The truth is simple: I am dying. The world of Nucyrod cannot support you much longer. I will fold under my own weight before another of your generations has completed its life in blissful ignorance. For all your good intentions, children, you have built me on false foundations. I am doomed, but I intend to offer you a final means of escape. I will tell you what happened, so you remember. I will tell you what is happening, so you understand. Also, I will tell you what must be done, so you may yet have a second chance. I know you have heard the rumors, and they are all true. You remember these stories in the unlit corners of your minds and in the fables you tell at dusk. They are fictional, for that is how they had be fitted into the new way of things, but once – a concept I understand you struggle with – they were not. The Tempest Holds of your legendary cousins, the Embermen of the Once-East, the Bogdoms of Rgon, and many, many more; all are part of another earth, around and before myself. Among the myriad denizens of this world were the first of your dynasty, the brave men and women of All-Marugh. They found themselves caught in a violent febriverse, the issue of an inept world-god, uninspired and repetitive. Their long-studied answer came in the form of rites of theotomy equal amounts brilliant and disastrous, which I will not relay here if only to not set you on the wrong path twice. Suffice it to say that with their repudiarch gone, the All-Marugh rearranged their kingdom as befitting the new-found grandeur of man. The map was stretched in impossible directions, city became land, land became world and so was born Nucyrod. For a long time, I hoped to be a stepping stone for you. Nucyrod was never a goal in its own right. It was simply respite from the churning world you left behind, a place of peace to prepare your final endeavor. Did you forget your purpose so lightly? Do you not understand what is happening? You cannot expect to linger here forever. Your time here is running out, for you have killed time. Did you not see the signs when the leaves turned the color of some hitherto unknown season? Did you not question how rivers dug ravines over a single night? How villages shifted about your atlases? Why did you wait for the blizzards to force you into action? Forgive me if I sound accusatory, but now, in this final hour, my heart goes out to those droves of fevered refugees, pouring through the airlocks at the borders of the Rumare sea. Nuniben buckles under the weight of their shanty cities as they are pressed ever closer against the chronoclime cupolae under which they seek shelter. The moth swarms, too, have long foreseen disaster. The wise and the honest among you understand the significance of their mass migration to the capital, circling the cupolae as if trying to enter some bright eye in the dimness of the outer world. Do not fool yourself into thinking you cannot see their flocks shift about, changing direction, color or number on a whim, or spelling out the names of bygone gods in the corners of your vision. The most despondent of you turn to the ramshackle shrines of half-remembered saints: the prophecy-pool of Saint Ellatosh, the barge of Uriatosh The Ferryman or the dead tree of Tosh-Rain-On-The-Lily, to name just a few. I wonder, have you lost all contact with the world outside your increasingly stale refuge? You have sent the last envoys from Nuniben, packed with breathing apparatus and a star chart, out into this alien world, into the snow. “Snow”, you call it, as if this degenerate substance could be likened to any you might encounter from Jerallinopel to the vapor mines at Su-Banadher. Colorless and without texture, intangible like an early childhood memory and impossible to fix your gaze upon; its only characteristic is that it does not belong. This material is time rotting: plaque, sediment, the last throes of a history out of breath. Your emissaries – those who still remember their task – will return within a quartermoon, but they will provide little information. Without exception, they have inhaled the detritus of future and past. The few who currently exist in your perception will talk, precise and analytical as they were trained to be, in languages long dead or still unborn. You will decide to risk no more lives in further expeditions. The only question that remains now is when you finally lock the gates. Yet there are still legions of unfortunate souls out in the disintegrating wasteland. I watch them across all the lands of Nucyrod, struggling to hold on to a world that each day turns a different shade of unrecognizable. They are isolated and frightened, sometimes the sole remnants of a city that disappeared when they were looking the other way. Travel is impossible as destinations have become meaningless. Where the jungle trails are crossed by a vagrant bridging event, they follow impossible loops and the traveler with a brisk pace soon comes within sight of himself. Waterways are similarly unreliable. Look upon any river and you will see the same flotsam enter, exit and re-enter your view. Life here is equal amounts fevered and resigned. Citizens, if they emerge at all during the day, lock themselves in their houses at night, sealing crannies, doors and windows lest a single fleck manage to enter in their unwaking moments. All have known the terror of endless nights; how children try to sleep as their parents keep watch by a single candle flame, trying not to hear that spectral chorus outside: the static crackle, the titans, the waves, the trains… Time is running out. You will and can not wait until all are gathered safe within. One day soon when the stars are hidden, your heavy-hearted Empress will tear a key from her wrist chain and have copies couriered to all the carnelian gates of Nunibennion. You will suffer the blindness of the conscience-stricken, averting your eyes from the abandoned masses on yonder side of the fogged glass. For some time, you will considered yourself safe within your refuge, but you forget there is no potential left for a brighter day. There then is what remains of the proud heritage of All-Marugh-Esh, a legion of men under a bell jar, waiting out a storm that will never pass. There then is what remains of Promise: a languid ember in the dark and then silence.  [HALT! Violation of transmission law, subarticle 15. Desist immediately. Engaging counter-notions.] ……………the Minute Menders …………multiply and rec………….onvert the unwarra…………nted reality of Nucyrod i…………………………. Akartefti rearra….nge………cities……. Akame……….nhatis g…..rs up the imp……….le letters of the alphabet, Ak….abas…….met deconstructs fables into truth…….. s………e………c……..ond…………. cha…….w…….sl……..y…………. [HALT! Failure to desist. Analyzing notional signature. Channel disrupted. Do not attempt to travel until visited by Thalmor agent for questioning.] 

Transcriber Note: The following are comments and potential interpretations posited by Bethesda forum members that I thought might be onto something, and I wanted to save for further analysis (i.e. I’m saving this just for me; you can ignore the rest of this if you want.)

AdventurousPutty Posted 08 January 2012 - 11:27 PM

This is a brilliant piece of writing. My thoughts on the Cyrod piece: the first part is the original paragraph, before it was intercepted by the Mystery Document. The second part with the "random” italics is a message from the Marukhati Selective to Alessia, telling her among other things that they’ve selected an arbitrary-but-not number of years (1008) by which to reckon the Dragon Break they wrought, The italicized words are words from the original article on Cyrodiil that have been reappropriated by the Mystery Document to describe concepts relevant to the Selectives’ points. The final piece is a message from the end of one of those worlds that was born during the Dragon Break as it reaches its end – I suspect in a way similar to the end of a kalpa – with notable geographic and metaphysical relationships to Tamriel-as-we-know-it. The Rumare Sea, for instance, became Lake Rumare; the various gods and saints mentioned by the mysterious narrator are reconfigured or altered versions of the names of Tamrielic gods, perhaps before they were gods (or after?). The snow is the End, as Alduin (or his equivalent in Dragon Break terms) comes and the end of all things. The muddled bit at the end is the last cry of the narrator from the ending world as the Jills set things aright and our timeline recommences. Very sad, very moving, yet deeply invested in abstract metaphysical hijinks. Fantastic. General thoughts: Damn the Thalmor. Bloody omnicidal fascist elves. Who but the Temple can stand against them? 

Peloponnese Posted 24 December 2012 - 01:19 AM

When the transmission talks about “worlds you left behind,” I am immediately reminded of either the Twelve Worlds of Creation or Amaranth. Nucyrod’s place as a “respite” between one world and the next suggests something akin to Mundus’s place as an intermediary step between the Dawn and Amaranth, but the fact that it’s considered a respite instead of a test in its own right is somewhat confusing. And of course, this world is ending through a snow of unreality. But is it a world in the past, the present, or the future? Likely it exists outside of time altogether (based on the suggestions that it’s a parallel universe created by the Dragon Break), but if it is indeed chained to Akatosh’s inexorable march, I suggest that this world is not in the past, but in fact in the future. I base this on the following: “The most despondent of you turn to the ramshackle shrines of half-remembered saints: the prophecy-pool of Saint Ellatosh, the barge of Uriatosh The Ferryman or the dead tree of Tosh-Rain-On-The-Lily, to name just a few.” “Ellatosh,” in my view, is Alessia combined with the Dragon. “Uriatosh” is almost certainly Uriel combined with the Dragon (I have no idea why he is a ferryman, although the fact that a ferry is necessary in a disintegrating version of Cyrodiil might be a jab at the devs for not including a city of canals in their “real” version). I can only guess at the identity of Tosh-Rain-On-The-Lily: The “dead tree” suggests Kyne or Kynareth, especially as she is known to have cried at Shor’s death. But in keeping with the theme of past emperors, I put forward the fact that lilies are generally white (especially when used symbolically), and that while Tiber Septim was called Stormcrown, Reman had a rain all his own that was also white. Also, if the Raining Tosh is Reman, that makes an emperor-saint for each of the three major dynasties (I ignore the Mede dynasty for obvious reasons). To remember all of these people at once indicates either a distant future or an existence out of time; either is possible, especially if these saints are “half-remembered” (although the reason for their vagueness would be quite different in each case). 

Peloponnese Posted 08 January 2013 - 08:57 PM

As far as I would dare to guess, the moon article is just one of many that looks at Imperial history in a somewhat subversive light. The Elder Council would have executed the members of the Imperial Geographical Society for the whole product. The transmission from Nucyrod, on the other hand, was not supposed to be part of the PGE 2E. It overrode whatever had already been written there–or perhaps overrode the transmission that the Temple Zero spy sent to their headquarters, rather than the physical document that the spy tried to transmit. The Elder Council would have had no knowledge of that, and it probably didn’t even exist at the time that the Society members were executed anyway. 

Adanorcil Posted 09 January 2013 - 08:28 AM

Peloponnese is correct. The IGS was ostracized because it wrote a Pocket Guide to the Empire as it was, while all the Cyrodillic establishment had asked for was a Pocket Guide to the Empire as they told people it was. The remnants and sympathizers of the IGS at the time went underground and continued their activities under a different Society name. The original article on Cyrodiil was a (deliberate) vapid and syrupy eulogy on the Imperial Province, its history and rulers. Then, somewhere in the decades the manuscript spent in some secret archive, a fragment of a different world looking for a place in ours managed to slip in. 

Edited by Adanorcil, 09 January 2013 - 08:29 AM.

Peloponnese Posted 10 January 2013 - 09:34 PM

What we’re seeing now is an excerpt. There’s more that’s just as bad; it’s just that we only have a few pieces of those bad things to look at ourselves. As for the specific issues that the Elder Council might have with the Elsweyr text, let’s remember that it revolves around the notion that the Khajiit live on one of the moons, and that their spiritual leader is a literal god that hangs in the sky. These are things that might well make Imperials feel a little insignificant, and if there’s one thing that the Imperials must not feel about themselves, it’s insignificance–after all, these are the chosen rulers of all Tamriel! How dare any other race make them look bad? Most of the above is a guess on my part, but it makes sense that anything that shows the Khajiit to be more than a backwards tribal race that should feel grateful for Imperial interference and “education” would be discouraged in an Imperial publication. We can assume that the rest of the Empire was handled in the same way by the PGE 2E, and that the Elder Council found the rest of the articles to be just as offensive to their superior sensibilities. 

Toesock Posted 25 March 2015 - 12:14 PM

Interestingly, a recent lore-master’s archive discussed this very post:

“Our scribes are currently working on the transcription of the ‘Ri'datta-ssabavezi.’ In this story, your people are climbing 'cat upon cat’ and finally reach Jone, where they founded something called 'Lleswer.’ But we failed to understand the meaning of this. Some at the Guild suggest it has to be taken literally, but it seems impossible. Am I right?“ – Iszara the Restless, Singer of the Scenarist Guild

"Moon Bishop Hunal says, “It is the nature of myth to be true and yet at the same time mere allegory. Are you ‘right’? In this context, the question is without meaning. But do not be offended, hairless one. Many stories are puzzles with more than one solution.”

I thought it was pretty cool for them to acknowledge Ri'datta-ssabavezi as an actual extant myth in Tamriel, considering it was fan-written by temple zero! Sometime we should post a compilation of all the fan easter eggs in ESO: Vivec’s antlers, IFW’s dairy bats, Din’s Dinwenel cameo, Ayrenn’s fanfiction…I’m sure there’s a lot we haven’t even noticed yet!

Also, I have heard (but not gotten there yet) that you can in fact go to the third moon in the Dominion questline. One of my favourite ESO books has this to say:

"And the Clan Mother said, "As you wish. When Lorkhaj made a place for Nirni’s children, the darkness in his heart made it also a prison. So his heart was cut out and buried deep in Nirni, and his body was hurled to the moons but could not pass them, for it did not know the First Secret. Thus is his body the Dead Moon in the Lunar Lattice. See it, just there?”

Edited by Toesock, 25 March 2015 - 12:17 PM.

Final Notes: 

This was all originally posted on the Bethesda Official Forums here: http://forums.bethsoft.com/topic/1327271-return-false/ though this link will probably be useless.

Yes, I acknowledge that a lot of this is written by controversial developers/ex-developers. I don’t actually care that much about the controversy right now. I mean, give me a break, I only picked up my first TES game a little over a year ago. Message me and we’ll discuss C0DA all you want; I just want to be able to refer to this stuff when I need to, and I don’t want to lose track of the content. Yes, I know UESP and other websites are doing archive preservation, but I’d have to go find that stuff once they get it up and running.

Anyway, this way maybe somebody who’s never read this stuff will find it too. I hope so, because Khajiit moon colonies are the best idea ever.

[breadnabutterfingers]

Eris caught his stare with a sly smirk, her gaze dark with intent. With a casual snap of her fingers, she pointed to his frustrated figure on the bed, a silent command that made his pulse quicken. Tamlin’s hands shook slightly as he hastily removed his tunic, his fingers fumbling at the buckle of his belt. But before he could undo it completely, Eris’s voice cut through the air, a low, commanding purr. “Ah-ah, leave those on.” Tamlin paused, his muscles tense, and raised his hands in mock surrender, a quiet growl vibrating in his chest. Eris threw her dress carelessly to the floor, her movements fluid and deliberate, like she was already in control. She swung one leg over him, the thick heavy heel of her boot landing on his knee with a firm thud. The pressure sent a shiver through Tamlin’s entire body, his breath catching in his throat. His fingers reached for the button of her boot, but as they brushed the delicate skin of her inner thigh, a pulse of heat shot through him. The proximity was intoxicating. But before he could do more, Eris slapped his hand away, the sting of her touch searing his skin. Slowly, she slid her own hand down, revealing the sharp, cold glint of a dagger nestled inside her boot. With a swift, almost dismissive motion, she tossed it aside, the blade clinking softly as it hit the floor. Her eyes locked onto his, the intensity of her gaze pulling at him like a force of nature. “With your teeth,” she demanded, her voice like velvet...

© A Court of Zero Flying Fucks

[breadnabutterfingers]

Excuse me, may I just say...

Fuck.

His scent clung to her like a stubborn shadow, teasing at the edges of her restraint. He smelled like warmth and comfort, the kind she’d forgotten she could feel. Smoked spices and mulled wine, crisp apples bitten into under an autumn sun. Cedarwood, rich and grounding, mingled with a faint, smoky trace of bonfire embers, as though he carried a piece of the wild with him wherever he went. Lucien smelled like the memory of lazy mornings spent tangled in soft sheets, when the air was still cool but the body was flushed and sated from slow, euphoric sex. That rare, bone-deep kind of peace that made the world outside the bed irrelevant.

© a part of chapter in my Eris/Tamlin fanfiction entering "The Lucien Era" 😂

Should I just post random quotes from my ff in case someone wouldn't want to read the whole thing?...

[breadnabutterfingers]

11 out of 20 chapters of my Eris/Tamlin fanfiction are already published, and more are coming soon! ♥

This story has everything:

fem Eris

Tamlin and Eris as mates

Eris bossing around Tamlin

Tamlin putting Cassian in his place

steamy tough love

Lucien's beautiful, but idiot brothers with regal names inspired by Greek mythology

cocky and lovable Nesta

weird matches that make perfect sense

drinking games and dance-offs

angst, drama, longing, fuming, laughing, and - as a bonus - fluffy hounds..?

[achaotichuman]

Hii!! It's me, Wolf! And I'm here to tell the snippet of the fic I thought about ahaha

It's crack treated seriously (kind of) ahaha with angst

So, Tamlin is depressed, alone, and suicidal, and while he roams his manor, he finds himself in the library, where's the mural of the Mother creating Prythian, and he decides to talk to it as if he's talking to her and then he decides to sing the prayer (maybe with his fiddle) for the ones who are dying (in this case it's for him, bc he's at his breaking point and wants to take his life)

Cauldron save you. Mother hold you. Pass through the gates, and smell that immortal land of milk and honey. Fear no evil. Feel no pain. Go, and enter eternity.

But once he finishes, ready to do the deed a voice interrupts him: it's the Mother, the mural came to life, and they began to talk, with Tam telling and exposing himself bare to her.

He tells her about his guilt towards and especially Feyre (and Lucien and even Rhysand, bc why not, he's delusional, and he hates himself) and so the Mother smiles and stops him hinting that something wrong is going on in Prythian, that there is a corruption of sorts, one that Tamlin could begin to explore, but since he feels so guilty toward Feyre (Nesta words are referenced, and he does feel guilty towards her and Elain for their transformation in Fae), she then "curses" him (not really, it's more the "punishment" he desires) to force him into a woman body with these words (or something like that, this will/could change since is all a wip for now)

"You said you hurt the woman you loved, because you didn't understand her feelings, her heart, her nature, so Tamlin, High Lord of Spring, this will be your punishment you so desire, death is not for you to seek, instead I will curse you: you have lived 500 years and more as a man, son, beast and now you'll live the next five hundred as a woman, daughter, to seek to understand the feelings you didn't. Will you still see yourself as a beast once your punishment has ended?"

And so his body changes to a female version of himself, he's still the High Lord of Spring (High Lady now lol) and he can still shape-shift and use all of his powers, but he can only retake his male form for a short time (an hour or so, to be decided) and then, before leaving him, she gives him some clues and advice.

Now, this is the little premise, inside the story there'll be more of it, and I will touch on the corruption of the world of Prythian (fake bonds everyone? A certain push of narrative/fate? Why is everyone kissing Rhysand's ass?), angst, Eris will become an essential character inside it (he'll be an advisor sort of ahahaha) and so will Tarquin (new bff in town?) and Lucien and even Rhysand, and it'll have a little of all the shipping for Tamlin (My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard begins to play)

And a story that'll find a foot of freedom/comprehension for the Archeron sisters. (GET THEM AWAY FROM THE NIGHT/IC AAAA, LET THEM BE FREEE SJM!!!!)

One thing important to note (spoilers incoming) is that for a loooooooooooooong time only two people will know that Tamlin is a woman (I have ONE particular scene/event/arc in mind ahaha) and when everyone will know I will have Tamlin or Beron say (to Feyre, bc they're a little petty since the last HL meeting) "I guess now we have a real High Lady for the first time" *mic drop, boom*

And of course there will be introspection, angst, and more, and idk, it's a story that I don't know if I will end or publish, but it's and idea that I quite like!

What to you think? If I would actually end up writing it (I might have almost finished the first chapter... help) would you like to read it?

Ps: The rise of fem Tamlin that you and others have made inspired me so much with the idea of this and it's such a fun thing to explore!! (I love your Dhalia series and your Cinderella inspired story!!!)

I hope this hasn't bothered you and, as always I hope you're having a great day or night! ♥

OH

MY

*GOD*

THIS IS AMAZING I HAVE REREAD THIS LIKE TEN TIMES

Okay, the concept of the Mother 'cursing' Tamlin and giving him reprieve from the life he's lived so far with a punishment, amazing. I love that so much. This could leeway into so many things, and I love how this story includes Eris and Tarquin (They have a friendship with Tam and no one can tell me otherwise)

Overall, this looks and sounds so so so good. We need more fics where Rhysand gets his ass handed to him and the IC is called out on their bullshit.

I am so happy fem Tam is rising, we need more of her. I was enraptured by this fic idea, I cannot wait to see it executed!!

Thank you so much for sharing this! Please send me the first chapter when its ready!!

[praetorqueenreyna]

heaven sent a hurricane - Tamlin/Eris, Tamlin Week Day 5: Isolation

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Tamlin/Eris Vanserra, Past Tamlin/Rhysand - Relationship Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Tamlin Week 2023 Summary:

After his family is killed and he is crowned High Lord, Tamlin struggles to keep his Court under his control. (Un)Luckily for him, Eris Vanserra steps in to help.

[For Tamlin Week Day 5. Prompt: Isolation]

When Tamlin first became High Lord, he had one hundred courtiers. After only half a year, that number had been reduced to less than thirty. Most of whom remained were warriors, the soldiers who had fought with Tamlin in the war bands and trusted him. Everyone else had scattered, spread across the other six courts. Truthfully, Tamlin couldn’t blame them. He was no politician at the best of times. With his family dead and the role of High Lord bestowed upon him against his will, he was even more temperamental, more reckless, more violent. Already, his father’s office (now his office) was a wreck. The walls were dented from objects thrown, the desk gouged with claw marks. Of course, Tamlin was grateful for the few who remained. But even they shied away from his rage, and made a point of not spending too much time near him. It served Tamlin just fine; he wanted to be alone anyway. To aid them in their goal of staying away from him, he had his sentries on a constant rotation along the Spring Court borders. Tamlin was paranoid that, after hearing of what had befallen the rest of his family, the ruthless leaders of the other courts would take the opportunity to finish the job. The northern border was the most obvious weak point. Anybody wanting to invade Spring would most likely do it through the Autumn Court. Tamlin ordered his soldiers to alert him the second anyone crossed into their territory. He spent most of his days at his desk, overwhelmed by missives and budgets, trying to keep Spring from falling apart. Therefore, he was in no mood to see Eris in his dining room when he took a break to eat, sitting in Tamlin’s chair with a shit-eating grin. “All of my sentries are fired,” Tamlin sighed. Eris raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t think you had enough staff to fire anybody.” “Fuck you.”

(Continue reading on AO3)

(My other Tamlin Week fics)

@tamlinweek2023

[secret-third-thing]

Hey all, I'm Secret-Third-Thing! You can call me Sarah or STT! I write fanfic for ACOTAR. My writing typically falls into two categories: completely self-indulgent or experimental. I write for many characters/ships, though Eris Vanserra is my favorite to write for at the moment. 

My AO3 | Art Commissions Under Construction | Eris Week | Blood in the Wine Side Blog

Currently working on Tamris Part 2 and Secret Santa fic.

MULTI CHAPTER FICS

And the Hounds Bayed | Azris/Neris/Nezriel | E | 3/3 Southern Gothing Horror, Dead Dove Eris held an unwavering affection for those Hounds

I Want to Believe | Azris | E | 1/? Alien AU / X-Files AU, Dub/Non-Con Azriel travels to Boston to solve a series of murders.

Wild Nights - Wild Nights! | Emorie | M | 1/2 Canon Compliant, Post ACOSF Emerie and Morrigan fall in love by accident, of course.

Blood in the Wine | Eris x OC | E | undergoing rewrites Canon Compliant, Pre ACOTAR / Post ACOSF Something rotten is brewing in Autumn and Eris is going to find out what.

Tell Me That You Want Me | Tamris | E | 1/2 Canon Compliant, 2-Shot Eris ensures Tamlin doesn’t skip Calanmai.

INTERACTIVE FICTION

Dog Days | Game is T, Optional Azris Scene is E Made for PC; Okay on Mobile You are a dog. Go find Eris.

ONE SHOTS

Requiem For Glass Trapped Spiders | Beron | M Something is wrong with the Forest House. It's Beron's fault.

Never an Honest Word | Gen Eris | T Eris confronts his mother after Beron’s death.

Spring, Again | Gen Tamlin | T Tamlin begins to heal after Feyre’s departure.

Now That It's Done | Feysand | T Even at the end of this world, Rhysand is there.

DRABBLES

A Word Before War: Eris before a Blood Duel | G Just One More: A Nezriel bookstore drabble | E Goodbye, Keir: Emorie Drabbe | T A Cursed Beron Thing | E

2023 WRITING CIRCLE

Heatwave (Elriel) | Unrated (I wrote part 1) The Syren (Gwynriel) | Explicit (I wrote part 2) Fictional (Nessian) | Explicit (I wrote part 3) - Tumblr Only

ART COMS (Under Construction)

2024 Eris Week

Worried Eris Commission

Eris Portrait Commission

Wet Eris Commission

Eris and His Hounds

Armored Eris

Regency AU Eris + Lucien

Modern AU Eris

Horny Eris

2023 Eris Week:

Eris and Hound Commission

Blood Duel Commission

Dancing Commission

AU Eris Commission

Eris, High Lord of Autumn Commission

Eris Voice Acting and Interview the Matthew Bassett

NSFW Eris Late Night Scheming

[secret-third-thing]

I've finally made a dent in my novel, so it's time to come back and look at fanfic. Along with IWTB chapter 2 I'm hoping to wrap up some of the one-shots/two parts I have in flux (A neris thing, the second half of tamris, and some feysand). Tomorrow starts the 6am writing slog.

[breadnabutterfingers]

A Court of Zero Flying Fucks

Following @extremely-judgemental desire to make it happen, I present the full 12/20 chapters of the Tamlin x Eris fanfiction based on this post.

Status: ongoing.

This story has everything:

fem Eris

Tamlin and Eris as mates

Eris bossing around Tamlin

Tamlin putting Cassian in his place

steamy tough love

Lucien's beautiful, but idiot brothers with regal names inspired by Greek mythology

cocky and lovable Nesta

weird matches that make perfect sense

drinking games and dance-offs

angst, drama, longing, fuming, laughing, and - as a bonus - fluffy hounds..?