@inabcck

@inabcck

Anna Akhmatova, tr. by. D.M. Thomas, Selected Poems

While Briar worked, Tamlin simply slept. He closed his eyes and his body fell into the smooth rhythm of rest for the first time in over a year. His shoulders rose and fell evenly and the hours of the night ticked by in silence without a single terror awaking him from his slumber. 

Slowly, morning light peeked through the dark green curtains and fell across his face. Tamlin covered his eyes and rolled over, ignoring the coming of day. He slept on until the heat of noon began warming his room and the weight of his cloak grew heavy. The chimes of the clock in the main hall declared the hour and drew him from his daze.

He sat up, dizzy and dry-mouthed. How long had it been since he’d slept so well? The haze of sleep still surrounded the High Lord as he glanced at time. 

It was twelve-oh-five.

I missed court. I slept through court. 

Tamlin nervously bit at his nails, while he rushed through the room in search of his shoes. By the cauldron! Briar! I’m late. I’m so late. She’s going to yell at me again, isn’t she? 

Tamlin muttered a few select curse words in high fae beneath his breath as he hurried down one of the three long hallways towards his office. He didn’t even have time to take a glance at himself in the mirror. His hair was disheveled and his boyhood cowlick jumped from his blonde locks, untamed. His clothes were clean, but wrinkled, and his cloak askew from using it as a blanket the night before. 

Luckily, he still had his common sense. He swept a hand over his clothes and smoothed the wrinkles as he turned his personal door to the office. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to fix his hair, or calm the raw anxiety carefully hidden in his green eyes. 

As he passed through the door, he saw Briar waiting calmly in her chair. How long has she been here? 

Tamlin, once again, glanced at the time. Twelve-oh-nine. Nine minutes was not bad, but considering he could winnow, it was still very late. He cleared his throat. “My apologies, Lady Briar; both for my tardiness and my manners yesterday. I have been,”

He gestured to the giant stacks of paper around him. “A little overwhelmed lately.” 

Stone Walls & Sacrifice | Tamlin & Briar @springcourthighlady

Tamlin was more than ready to leave by the time he finished listening to Briar’s rant. He let her finish — he wasn’t that impolite. His brisk footsteps echoed across the marble flooring and he looked over his shoulder, hoping that he was not followed. 

Yet, he was not that lucky. The prospects of desert with Lucien and Elain were slipping further away by the minute. Tamlin stilled when she called his name, pressing his lips into a thin line. Why won’t she go home? This is life, in Spring, right now. We’re all worried. We’re all frustrated. We all have family in need of aid. No one gets special privileges. Not even me — 

He didn’t even have privacy anymore, or space to think. Though, when he glanced over his shoulder, he was relieved to find some regret in her eyes. 

Only his friends called him by his first name. He wasn’t big on enforcing rank, but found it odd how casually she addressed him. 

He pressed his tongue into the edge of his teeth, forbidding the quick retort which danced on the edge of his lips. I will not lose it. I cannot. They cannot see me as a beast. 

He turned, stuffing his hands deeply into the pockets of his jacket, to hide how they’d tensed into fists. Running from his problems wasn’t effective, but neither was forcing himself into a corner until he lost his temper. 

Tamlin saw her hand reach for him. He wanted to back away. It had been over two years since a woman had touched him, apart from Calanmai. He flinched, but did not move. He wasn’t sure he could. 

She cares for me? I have met this female once. 

Tamlin swallowed, gravely still. “I understand your attachment, Lady Briar. Yet, if you cannot trust me as High Lord of Spring, no plan I create to bring Caiden home will be enough for you.”

He stepped away, lowering his green eyes to the ground. “If you’ll excuse me, it has been a long day.” 

Edgy/misc OC ask meme ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Send me a number and an OC, and I'll answer.

What memory would your OC rather just forget?

What's something about your OC that people wouldn't expect just from looking at them?

What is your OC's fatal flaw? Are they aware of this flaw?

When scared, does your OC fight, flee, freeze or fawn?

How far is your OC willing to go to get what they want?

How easily could your OC be convinced to do something that goes against their moral compass?

What's one way your OC has changed since you first came up with them?

Would your OC ostensibly be able to get away with murder?

Do you have a specific lyric or quote which you associate with your OC?

What's an AU that would be interesting to explore with your OC?

What is your OC's weapon of choice? Have they ever actually used it?

Is your OC self-destructive? In what ways?

If you met your OC, would the two of you get along?

How does your OC want to be seen by other characters?

Does your OC have a faceclaim? If so, who?

What is your OC's pain tolerance like?

What is the worst thing you have put your OC through story-wise?

Is your OC more cold and detached or up close and personal?

How does your OC behave when enraged?

Does your OC have a tendency to get jealous? If so, how does this manifest?

Does your OC have any illnesses or disorders? How do they handle it?

What character alignment would you consider your OC to be?

What emotion is the hardest for your OC to process? How about express?

What is an alternative life path your OC might have gone down? How different would their life be if they'd made those decisions?

What is your favorite thing about your OC?

19th century wax seals

🌹 for those who have ever doubted that Luke Eisner makes a wonderful Tamlin 🌹