thehighlordofspring - the ever-fixed mark shall not be shaken
the ever-fixed mark shall not be shaken

independent, selective, experienced written & visual narrative of Tamlin, High Lord of the Spring Court, from the ACOTAR series | writing will often be a mix of canon & non-canon compliant. | always accepting asks & prompts character abuse will not be tolerated. 18+ may be present, but will always be placed under a ‘read more’. penned by Cece @positivelyruined.

368 posts

I Love You Green. I Love You Forests. I Love You Smell Of Damp Earth. I Love You Feeling Before The Storm

i love you green. i love you forests. i love you smell of damp earth. i love you feeling before the storm breaks. i love you moss. i love you rivers. i love you streams. i love you thunderstorms. i love you sunlight shining through leaves.

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More Posts from Thehighlordofspring

8 months ago

“There is love in holding and there is love in letting go.”

— Elizabeth Berg


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8 months ago

But there was no need to be ashamed of tears, for tears bore witness that a man had the greatest of courage, the courage to suffer.

Viktor E. Frankl


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7 months ago

broken ties & bloody bonds

the origin story of Tamlin and Lucian | a Kip and Koda adventure for @inabcck

The wind rushed through Tamlin’s hair as his horse galloped through the NorthWest woods. The sound of clopping hooves and Andras’ wild laughter echoed through the trees. Tamlin rolled his eyes and bent further down, urging his steed into further speed, and ducking underneath a low branch ahead of him. He wasn’t about to let his sentry win a race that easily. His pride could take the loss, but he still had a reputation to uphold. Despite everything he’d done to change the Spring Court, some things required stitching and not sledgehammers.

Andras raced ahead. Tamlin circled the woods until he ended up in a wide-open glade. Tall Maples rose into the sky above him and fresh dirt silenced the gallop into a slow canter. It was quiet — too quiet. He gently tugged Elodin’s mane, reining him in, and training his ear on the horizon. 

A loud crash tumbled through the underbrush, followed by a brutal scream. Tamlin’s shoulders straightened and his eyes darkened as he watched the path that led towards Autumn. His borders were always under threat and the one with Autumn was more contentious than the one with Summer which was famously neutral to conflict. Amid the forest, bursts of vivid red and orange pierced through the greenery, taking the form of deep red tunics and fiery ginger locks.

Tamlim withdrew an arrow from his quiver and notched it in his bow, training his eye on the horizon. Familiar faces emerged from the dark leaves. The sons of Autumn, Beron’s children, raced through the trees. Their rapid footsteps and aggressive shouts did nothing to suggest a friendly visit. Yet, they had not spotted him among the trees. His gifts allowed him to blend within them as seamlessly as the breeze. 

They are chasing each other, Tamlin realized. His heart thumped quickly in his chest as adrenaline prepared him to intervene. He searched for familiar faces amidst the triad of brawling brothers. Eris, Autumn’s heir, and Lucien, its black sheep, were the only two that he knew.

The hair rose on the back of his neck as he saw Lucien’s slender form leaping through the trees, as nimble as a fox. The two others crashed behind him like hulking hippos. 

They were catching up. The border was six miles past them, now. It was likely they'd been running since dawn. 

When Lucien rushed past Tamlin, the High Lord urged his muscular horse onto the path between him and his brothers. 

“Halt!” He commanded, letting his voice deepen into the one gifted by the cauldron. As strong as Beron’s sons were, they could not disobey his orders after venturing onto his lands. Tamlin dismounted and sent his mount back towards the ailing Lucien. 

He held his arrow strong and pointed it directly at the brother in front, whose snarl was so feral that it reminded him of a wolf possessed by Rabies. “Take one more step and I will put an arrow in your spine.” 

His glimmering ash arrow was one of few that he carried. Using it violated Prythian law.  It was a death sentence to any fae. Even now, it burned through his gloves, blistering his fingers. 

 “You wouldn't dare.” The first spat. “Stepping between brothers and their business is bad luck, Lord of Spring. I would have thought you'd learned that lesson.” 

Tomlin flinched. His brothers were a tragedy that he would like to forget. His relationship with them was not much better than what Lucien faced now. 

“That’s High Lord to you.” He hissed. “Do not test me.”

Lucien’s brother could not hold back. His father’s rage propelled him. He raised his sword and swung it towards Tamlin’s chest. 

As quickly as he moved, Tamlin released the arrow. 

It pierced the thin leather armor on his shoulders and punctured the left side of his chest. The brawny fae fell forwards. His face flushed before it fell to a pale, ash white. His body stiffened and he fell to the forest floor. 

Just as he fell, Tamlin strung the second of his arrows, pointing it at the second brother. 

“Get out. Take your corpse with you.” He growled. “Tell your father that if his family tries to solve their disputes in my land again — I will not be so gracious the next time.” 

Silent and serious, the other Autumn faerie strung his brother over his shoulders and left as quickly as he’d come. 

Lucien. 

Tamlin whirled around, finding the younger fae curled in a ball on the moss behind him. It was red and soaked with blood. The skin on his back was a mess of blood and dirt, marred by the imprints of a seven-tailed whip. 

Whatever he’d done — this punishment was pure cruelty. It made Tamlin’s blood boil.

He winced and carefully hoisted the unconscious fae onto the waiting horse, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder as they walked back toward the manor. “You’re safe now. I won’t let them near you again.” 


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7 months ago

big fan of when stuff is the color green


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8 months ago

Panic Attack/ Comfort Starters

Panic attack

The sender is having a panic attack

"I-I can't... I can't control it."

"I-I can't breathe... everything's spinning..."

"I-I need to get out of here... please, I can't stay... it's too much..."

"N-noise... too much noise... I can't think... I need to..."

"I feel like I'm going to die..."

"I-I can't stop crying..."

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry for falling apart like this..."

"I'm scared... I don't know what's happening..."

"I feel like I'm going to pass out..."

"I need to get out of here... I can't handle this..."

"I-I'm fine, just give me a moment. It's nothing..."

: "I'm okay, really... Just need a moment to... to collect myself..."

Comfort

The sender is comforting receiver having a panic attack

"Hey, hey, it's okay. Just breathe with me, alright? Nice and slow. You're safe here, I've got you."

"Tell me five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste."

"'You're not alone in this. Take your time; I'll wait."

"Let's count backwards from 100. One number at a time. You've got this."

"Shh, I know it feels overwhelming right now, but you're not alone. I'm right here beside you, and I'm not going anywhere."

"Focus on my voice, okay?"

"I'm right here beside you, holding your hand."

"Let's step outside for a moment. Take my hand, we'll get through this together."


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