Hell Hath No Fury Like A Sister Scorned

people are literally so boring a male character will kill 10000 people and steal candy from babies and theyll be like omg thats my king! but a female character is rude once and theyre like i hope she dies violently

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

by positivelyruined 🌹🍃🎻

links: Ao3 | original writing blog | WriterGram

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

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

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

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

Tag List:

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

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

What Once Was

pairing: Tamlin x Lucien

word count: 697

warnings: none

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

The Spring Court was quieter than Lucien remembered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tamlin reared back like he had been slapped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lucien didn’t let it.

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

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

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

Lucien breathed, “Not unless you make me.”

day 2: Dark Spring

@tamlinweek

What once was yours

_______________________________________________

Feyre bargains for Rhysand's life.

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

_______________________________________________

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

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

“Anything?”

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

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

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

Pulsing. Rumbling. 

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

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

“Please, just bring him back.”

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

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

“Do you swear it?”

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

"I do."

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

“I want the Night Court.”

“No!’’ 

“Feyre, don’t!” 

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

“Yes. I accept.”

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

“It is done,” he murmured.

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

And then there was utter stillness.

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

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

High Lord of Spring and Night.

ok but genuinely nesta has always looked like lydia from teen wolf in my head. just like how amren is edna mode and amarantha is melisandre from game of thrones

you know what? yeah.

Just a little bit of a passionate Elucien for you!

What SHOULD have happened during the High Lord meeting

Beron moved to the Lady of Autumn's seat, resting a hand on her shoulder. The same arm that now bore a bright scar. She did not so much as flinch, but her hand tightened around Eris's wrist.

"You have injured my wife, viciously attacked my heir, and made an attempt on my life. These are acts of war, little girl. Perhaps your mate should have done better filling you with knowledge of politics and common sense rather than vile seed!"

"Beron!"

"I have spoken my piece!" he snarled in answer to Thesan's snap. Beron turned back to the Night Court and pointed his finger.

"Too long have we endured the arrogance of this insolent half-breed. Well. No longer." Beron spat out the words, "This meeting was the last straw in a bale of thousands. As High Lord of Autumn, I declare war on Night."

The ripple was instantaneous.

"Father, are you certain of this?" Eris murmured.

But Beron did not answer his son. His gaze was fixed on Rhys's frozen face. The male recovered quickly, a sneer forming on his lips.

"What matter is it of mine whether you wage war on us or not? We both know your forces are nothing in comparison to Night's."

Beron's face turned thunderous, and he opened his mouth to reply when a voice cut through, sharp and clear.

"Spring will stand with you, Lord Beron."

Rhys barked out a laugh, relaxing "Oh? With what army?"

Tamlin merely smiled, unsheathing those deadly claws and letting them gleam in the steady candle light.

"I don't need one. I killed one High Lord of Night before. I can do it again."

OK SO CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE WHOLE EYES BEING IMPORTANT TO THE CHARACTERS THING. because this chapter had a whole lot of that. ohhh boy it had a lot!!!!! it did!!!!!

FIRSTLY. akutagawa. for a while, his eyes have been pitch-black. last chapter, they regained their light, as he remembered atsushi. and then they're pitch-black again in this chapter-- as the person who brought light to them, to akutagawa himself, is gone.

SECONDLY. dazai. as he tells akutagawa he can "certainly" give him a reason to live, at the same time, he himself looks like he has no reason to live, as if he's not living at all. his eyes are dark and dead. pitch-blacm just as akutagawa's were at the start of the manga, and this chapter, but with none of the determination or bite akutagawa has. just emptiness.

THIRDLY. (child) akutagawa. his eyes aren't empty, nor pitch-black at first. they're dark, with light within. he has not been shown light, nor has he been pushed into the shadows. they become purely fully of light when dazai claims he can give akutagawa a reason to live.

his eyes turn his signature pitch-black with his time in the mafia. he was not given a reason to live. he was given fear, pain, emptiness, and desensitivity to brutality. the chance of light and goodness in his eyes from when he was a child is erased by the port mafia-- by dazai.

his eyes become like dazai's dark, lifeless ones as dazai trains him. any chance at light, or goodness, or happiness, or true life is sapped from him and replaced with violence, abuse, the mafia, dazai, dazai, dazai!

atsushi is what brings akutagawa that light. and when atsushi is gone, the light is gone.

"the light in somebody's eyes" is a phrase meant to refer to someone's spark of life. their reason to live. akutagawa says that killing atsushi "became [his] sole motivation." but when atsushi dies, that takes the light out of his eyes. his reason to live vanishes along with atsushi.

atsushi is akutagawa's reason to live, isn't he?

The Devil couldn't reach me so he made me a person stuck in the acotar fandom