Your Fingers Will Grip Mine

me, about rh*sand

this is just my unprofessional opinion but fuck all that shit

tumblr polls have amplified the human need to vote on things. this place just became the roman senate

Eris is a massive asshole with many layers of trauma so I need his mate to be fucking insane, like worse than him. Jude and Cardan style but they’re both murderers <3

my unsolicited haikyuu headcanons pt 2

ushijima fuckin LOVES the witch doctor song by the cartoons bc he saw tendou dance to it once and he’ll just be listening to it w earbuds with that stony ass face of his, listening to the cartoons go “OOH ee ooh AA ting tang WALLA WALLA bing bang--” completely emotionless. 

Endeavor is a bitch. This post MUST be reblogged by everyone.

Tradition and Blood

Chaos.

Tarquin took a long drink from the goblet in his hand as he leaned against the balcony railing and watched his palace erupted into bedlam.

He’d thought to have a drink after dinner, even thought to invite Lady F—

No, the Cursebreaker.

He’d even thought to invite the Cursebreaker. She looked so wound up during the day and at dinner, there was no question sleep would’ve eluded her tonight. With their impending return to the Night Court, he’d foolishly allowed himself to believe that the rumors were true. That she was stolen from Spring, that she hated Rhysand, that she dreaded having to return with him. Maybe even that she found solace here, in his court, in his palace.

In him.

Footsteps pounded down the hallway. Tarquin slowly leaned further onto and over the railing, watching the seas below. Turbulent, choppy, angry, where just a few hours before they’d been calm. He sipped from his cup, ignoring the shouts, ignoring the footsteps. And when they came to his door, he’d ignore the knocking too. He already knew what they were coming to tell him. He’d felt it as it happened, too slow and powerless against its magic to stop it.

He drained the last of his wine in a single gulp and turned to the small table on his left. Two empty bottles, and a third half-finished. The wine was disappearing at an alarming rate, but no amount of drink could cover this feeling of shame. The other High Lords looked down on him, he knew. Many in his Court did as well. Too green, they all said. Not enough experience. Too young, too naive, too trusting. A few years and he’d make a fool of himself, they said. It hadn’t even been one since Prythian was freed from Under the Mountain and he proved them all right.

And for what? Some lofty ideals? A chance to prove himself? Friends? He wanted to laugh. Laugh like Cresseida laughed when he told her his hopes and dreams. Not to be cruel, never to be cruel. Cresseida was just a realist.

Change is slow, she’d said more than once.

It doesn’t have to be that slow, he’d replied every time.

And while he still believed that, still believed the phrase was used by many to defend and justify lack of action, maybe...maybe there was a grain of truth in the thing. Maybe if he'd taken his time, gathered more intel, built a solid foundation and started slowly within his own court, he wouldn't have been humiliated tonight.

A small breeze that carried a fresh scent of the sea blew past him from his left. He reached out the hand holding the cup. Wordlessly, Varian picked up the half-empty bottle of wine and poured him a drink before taking his own straight from the bottle.

"It's gone."

His words fell from a hollow throat, needing no confirmation from his cousin. They felt heavy yet meaningless. Varian, he knew, would never throw it in his face, but maybe Tarquin would feel better if he had. If his cousin reminded him that he'd tried to tell Tarquin not to trust the Night Court or anyone that came with them, that he tried to get him to listen when Cresseida said the same, maybe he would have felt better, or at least different. Anything other than what he was feeling now.

There was a reason Rhysand had no allies. There was a reason he was welcome in no Courts. And those reasons started before Amarantha. It made him wonder what he could've done, what Tamlin could've done, to turn the Cursebreaker into another one of them. Another Night Court monster.

And how he'd hoped that wasn't the case. Felt it was his personal mission to prove that the Night Court wasn't full of monsters. Those who'd lie, steal, hurt, and betray for their own cause, for their own benefit. After Brutius, he'd hoped. He banked on that hope.

This was the price he paid for hoping.

He wouldn't make this mistake again.

Tarquin pushed off of the balcony, decades of thoughts in his head. He looked over at Varian, who was watching him silently as he drank. He must've read the question in Tarquin's eyes because he said, "No one's dead."

He scoffed. Small mercies. He could hear Rhysand now, as clearly as he heard the knocking at his door. Yes, we stole your greatest treasure, but at least we didn't kill anybody. He'd say it as if Tarquin should be grateful. Maybe he should be.

"And Cresseida?"

Varian hesitated, as if he knew his next words would only make him feel worse. "Trying to work through the magic left lingering in her mind."

Of course. The picture was getting clearer and bloodier by the second. Came into his home under the guise of peace, dangled Prythian's hero in front of his face (not unlike how he dangled her in front of those Under the Mountain), distracted and deceived him while they schemed for his treasure, destroyed his temple, harmed his people, and on top of it all, messed with his mind to ensure their success.

He wanted to laugh. He wanted to scream. He wanted to rage like the seas below him.

"I always thought tradition was for fools," Tarquin said quietly.

Varian looked to the sea. "Fools do cling to their traditions," he admitted. "Never wanting to see anything new, try anything new. That's why you want to change things, no?"

"Mm," Tarquin hummed. "Indeed. But then what? Do I want transient gratification? Do I change things only for them to change again in another few decades, and then another few decades again?"

"I would hope not, cousin," Varian said.

Of course he didn't. He wanted his change to last. A thought he'd been having since the call of his land upended his night spilled forth from his lips. "The truth is I don't hate tradition. My arrogance demanded that I create my own and discard the ones that came before me."

"A new revelation?"

"Mere minutes old." And with that, he left the balcony.

Tarquin walked into his room and past his bed to the far western wall, grabbing three bottles of wine as he passed. A hand swept over an inconspicuous stone opened the way to a secret passage, a portion of the alabaster white wall shimmering blue. He let Varian step through the wall first, then followed closely after. His cousin took two of the bottles out of his hand, freeing him to open his and take a long drink.

They made their way through the secret corridors of the palace, a place known only to Adriata's royal family and the High Lord of Summer. After Amarantha, Cresseida and Varian showed him, and he was forever amazed at the twisting, turning tunnels that wove through the palace and led to the sea. Even now, the sight filled him with awe.

They continued on their way, only stopping briefly at a certain spot for Varian to pull Cresseida through another wall before continuing on. He shoved a bottle at his sister, and together the three of them drank in silence as they neared their destination. No words had to be said. They all knew what was to come next.

When they finally stood in the middle of the treasure chamber, Tarquin almost faltered. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe she'd gotten too curious of a ruin and set off the alarm by accident. Maybe she got scared, and immediately knew they'd think the worst of her because of the company she kept, and so fled.

But if that were the case, his guards wouldn't have been injured. And she'd have tried to send a note to explain, no?

Her guilty eyes haunted his mind. She'd reeked of guilt the entire trip. Now he knew why.

"Cresseida," he said.

She moved, and within a few minutes came back with a box. Inside, the three rubies she'd chosen were shining. The size of chicken's eggs, he knew they were three of the largest they owned. Fitting.

Tarquin set his bottle down on the floor and gently took the box from her. No reprimand passed her lips either, for which he figured he'd be grateful. Enough of that would come from his advisors and courtiers with the morning.

"It feels like this night has gone on forever," he said, not sure if he was speaking to himself or his cousins or no one at all. "It has been hours, and yet I've lived a lifetime in this one night."

He picked up the ruby in the middle, turning it over and over. The first time he'd heard of the blood rubies, he laughed himself hoarse. The thought of being so beside oneself with anger that you...send valuable jewels to the offending parties? For years, he thought it was a joke his cousins were playing on him. But now that he held it, he felt it. The depths of darkness and malevolence radiating from the jewel called to him, as they could only call to one whose soul mirrored their own.

Like calls to like.

"Are you sure?" Cresseida asked.

"Are you not?" he answered, still staring at the gem.

"There will be no going back," Varian said.

"That was true before I held this," he answered. He never thought he'd be here, get to a place where he'd send one of these, let alone three. A thought that could have driven him to madness. He remembered sailing summers long past, laughing to the point of tears.

"Even if I were High Lord, I'd never send one out!" He'd been ready to swear it, but Varian stopped him, warning him against making a vow he might one day have to break. It was painful to think of how he was then and where he was now.

As he looked at the gem, he thought of his predecessors. They probably all had a point in their lives where they thought the same.

"I see now," he said to the ruby, "why you lived as we now live. Why you did what we now do. I didn't before. Forgive me for my blindness." He lowered it back into its place. "Will you share in this with me, cousins? Will you take part in my revenge?"

"Your revenge is ours," said Cresseida. Varian simply nodded.

Tarquin sighed, then held up his hand. Slowly, his skin shifted from smooth to rough. Razor sharp scales formed on his skin, glowing blue as the oceans beyond them. With his other hand, he took hold of Varian and Cresseida. For a minute, the three of them stood, holding hands at the precipice of magic, just like they often did as children.

"Tonight, I've learned valuable lessons. Many traditions are adhered to for a reason. They are not things to spit on, but things to understand and respect, even should we not necessarily agree with them. And we won't always; they were established during different times than the one we live in. My predecessors were not barbarians who simply didn't know any better, they were complex beings leading complex lives. I see now how they could be pushed to drastic action."

As he spoke, the rubies began to glow.

"On this neverending night, our court has been weakened. I cannot even say that we were blindsided. We—no, I invited the blight in this time, just as my predecessor did half a century ago. Only this time, I knew what evil I was inviting in. I simply convinced myself that everyone in Prythian other than me was mistaken. My arrogance has died tonight. To tell the truth, it was killed."

The rubies pulsed, and in return he began to warm. Without having to see his cousins' faces, he knew he'd begun to glow himself. Shining with the power of Summer.

"This night may feel endless, but the sun will rise. Here in Summer, but also in Night. Our sun will rise in the Night Court. Let it blot out the stars they hold so dear."

And with one swipe, Tarquin slashed across all three hands. Deep gouges formed and blood spilled, intermingling with one another until they were one. The blood and magic fell upon the rubies, who desperately sucked it all up. This was a curse, one born from only the darkest of desires. What Cresseida and Varian desired, he couldn't know. But for him? He only wished upon them all exactly what they'd wrought on him. For them to trust someone wholeheartedly, despite every point of logic telling them not to, only to be violated in the way he had been. Not being able to trust his own mind in his own home, having things placed under his care stolen from him, using his hospitality in a time where such things were hard enough to come by, preying on his good nature and harming those he was meant to protect. He wished it all on them.

And then, once they experienced it all, he wished them dead.

Such desires were deep, and the stones drank until they had their fill. Once they shone with murderous promise, the three Summer fae unclasped their hands, now sticky and stained. Tarquin closed the box and handed it to Varian carefully. His scales were still out, and they refused to go back in for now. Being High Lord was so different than anything else he'd known. The land heard his desires and imbued him with power, but he was aware that in some ways, he was just a vessel, a conduit. They were tied inextricably, he and his Court, and what angered him enraged his Court. His beast roiled underneath his skin in response. It would be a while before he could rein it back in.

He wasn't even sure if he would want to when he could.

He hesitated handing these to Varian. The curse would take root once the recipients laid eyes on them. He thought of her, looking at the rubies. Rhysand would be there to explain what they meant. Would she feel devastated? Would she want to apologize? Would her heart sink to her feet and through the floor as his did when he heard the land scream and found her room empty? Would she shake in disbelief as he had when he found the other rooms vacant as well and realized what they'd done?

He thought of her and how easily she charmed him just to get to his Book. Is that what she did, seducing High Lords to get what she wanted? She seduced Tamlin, didn't she? He read between the lines and connected the timeline. She seduced Tamlin and her family regained their wealth. She seduced Rhysand and became feared throughout Prythian. And in this short time, she'd seduced him and made off with something that could neutralize the Cauldron. Next, he'd hear of her with Helion, leaving him with empty libraries.

The thought pissed him off. He shoved the box at Varian rougher than he meant to.

"These are in the Hewn City by morning."

I firmly believe that Lucien is just casually intelligent. Like not in a way that he boasts or something, but out of the blue he drops certain facts and dates and numbers leaving everyone astonished.

sickens me to my stomach. how dare this guy get to live my dream.

Eris Week 2023: Rules, Prompts, and FAQ

Welcome to Eris Week 2023! Our goal first and foremost is to embrace the chaotic energy of our favorite Autumn Court Heir. 

This post is intended to serve as a masterpost for the entire event. It will include the dates, prompts, rules, and a FAQ! Make sure to click the read more to get ALL the information!

Prompt List

Day 1: Sunday, September 17th: Brotherhood | Family Day 2: Monday, September 18th: High Lord | Heir Day 3: Tuesday, September 19th: Secrets | Fire Day 4: Wednesday, September 20th: Hounds | Autumn Equinox Day 5: Thursday, September 21st: Dancing | Blood Duel Day 6: Friday, September 22nd: Arranged Marriage | Modern AU Day 7: Saturday, September 23rd: Free Day

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Rules

Eris Week supports all mediums of creativity (art, fics, moodboards, playlists, incorrect quotes, head canons, drabbles, theories, etc)

You can ship Eris with anyone and everyone. This blog is ship neutral and will support all works. Eris x OCs are welcome too! 

There is no restriction on content. You're welcome to post NSFW as long as you tag appropriately.

Be as wild as you like! We’ve included two prompts per day. Feel free to pick one, both or neither. If you need a little extra guidance, click on the prompt day to see a post with some guiding questions to get the gears turning. [This will be happening over the next 3 weeks]. 

We do not tolerate hate. Please do not argue or spread negativity on other creators content during this week. We are here to support one another and celebrate one of our favorite characters! If you are not a fan of Eris, you are welcome to block this blog! Your peace of mind is important as is that of our creators.

We will not reblog or interact with any AI art. 

We will have a Collection (ErisWeek2023) on AO3! Do some double duty and post your masterpiece there too!

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FAQ

How do I participate in Eris Week?

During Eris week please post your content on tumblr. Tag this blog in the main body of your post (@erisweek2023) and tag your post with #erisweek2023. If you are posting on AO3, make sure to add your work to the Eris Week AO3 Collection and post your link here on tumblr.  If we don’t reblog your post within 24 hours, feel free to send us a message with the link! We would never intentionally not reblog someone’s post. 

How can I see all the works posted during Eris Week? 

During Eris week, we will compile a list of all works created for that day and post the following morning, Eastern Time. So, Day 1 we will reblog all Day 1 content. Then we’ll start off Day 2 by posting the Day 1 masterlist and then start reblogging all Day 2 content. This is so we can try to account for multiple timezones. If we miss your post or the link is wrong etc, please reach out and we will fix ASAP.  At the end of the event we will have THE MASTERLIST to rule them all that will contain links to each day’s masterlist. 

If I’m not a creator, how can I support Eris Week?

Leading up to the event, reblog our posts and/ or let your favorite creators know this event is happening! Visibility is incredibly helpful!  Reblog and comment on Eris Vanserra works leading up to and during the event! Supporting work now will encourage creators for the event week itself!  During Eris Week, be sure to leave a nice comment on AO3 works as well! 

I want to participate, but I am nervous! Do you have any advice? 

Character event Weeks are an excellent way to practice your craft, take risks, and explore art in a low stakes environment. Here are some words of wisdom that have helped folks in the past:  When in doubt, start small! Write a drabble, write some bullet points, make a sketch. All of this is 100% accepted and supported during Eris week.  Don’t feel like you have to do something for every day! Pick one or two days that really resonate with you and make content for those days!  Don’t compare yourself with others! It’s hard, especially when well known folks are also participating. But remember, everyone is happy to get any content, especially Eris fans. We’re hungry for anything folks will give us! And one day, you may be that well-known creator ;)  Don’t aim for perfection! Post something with typos, get a canon detail wrong! People will ignore it and love what you’ve made anyways. I am sure that somewhere in these guidelines, there is a typo! Embrace the chaos!  If you’re looking for some reassurance, share your work with a friend ahead of time. Get their feedback! Sometimes a little encouragement can go a long way. Both of the Eris Week organizers are creators and are more than happy to chat with you about ideas, offer advice, or simply cheer you on. 

Wait, so who is in charge of Eris Week?

This blog and the event are being run by @bennylavasbuns and @secret-third-thing.

I have a question that isn’t here!

Feel free to send us asks, we’d love to hear from you all! You can send questions, headcanons, ideas, or anything else! If you have a question you’d like us to answer privately, be sure to let us know in the ask. Otherwise, all other asks will be published on our blog.