#a prequel

[nocasdatsgay]

Beauty and the Beast

(A Spring Time Affairs Prequel)

Pairing: None | Word Count: 1028 | Rating: Gen | Master List | Read on Ao3

Summary: Someone is in the Manor. Tamlin Leaves his woods to investigate. For @tamlinweek Day 2 Dark Spring.

A/N: I wrote this in 2 hours. @mika-no-sekai-blog you had me spiral with asking what happened later and instead I ended up with what happened first. (Also check out her Tamlin fics. AMAZING)

Gen Tag: @ysmtttty @hieragalbatorixdottir @thisblogisaboutabook @daycourtofficial @secret-third-thing @acourtofladydeath @ninthcircleofprythian @pit-and-the-pen @lady-of-tearshed

Tamlin knew someone had entered the old manor. 

He knew when anyone stepped foot into spring. He had not lost that ability despite what others had thought. He knew when the eldest Vanserra entered his grounds, bringing the Witch and the Night Court General. Yet what did it matter? 

He prowled through the forest, still shifted. The bright leaves had grown dark in their shade of green, the grass and the weeds growing wild. The sun barely shone through anymore. His eyes had long adjusted to it, making it harder to leave the forest where he roamed in the noon of day. 

Why he went to the manor to investigate the trespasser, Tamlin didn’t know. He winced as the trees thinned, light getting brighter the farther out he went. It was almost blinding when he reached the field. With a shake of his head, he focused his gaze to the ruins of his home. He approached, admiring the force that was the Mother herself, the way the vines covered the manor walls and windows. His mother’s rose garden had spread over its enclosure through the cracks of the stone paths. He stopped before the manor, his home, now a tomb waiting for him when he was ready to die. 

It’s funny how he wished he’d died long ago and yet- 

A breeze blew, gentle unlike the storm welling inside him. The door creaked where it had been left open. Anger welling in him, his paws echoed on the cracked stone steps and as he entered the manor. He caught the smell of something citrus and sweet amongst the rot and musk. He followed it, lumbering up vine covered stairs to the second floor. He let out a growl as he wandered the hall. The fae was close by, had to be. 

Another open door when he turned down the hall. He stepped lightly over the broken glass from the frames that used to line the hall. It didn’t matter if he cut himself. Why was he even here? But he reached the door, nudging it open further. He planned to roar to startle the fae who dared trespass. Instead the fae startled him. 

This room was a courtier’s. The furniture was covered in dust and vines. The double doors at the end of the  were open, leading out to the small balcony. He crept forward. A female stood on the balcony, looking out to the gardens below. The sun shone bright against her blonde hair that cascaded over her shoulders, gently rustled by the breeze. Then she turned. She twirled a rose in her hand, blood red like the dress she wore. It was Autumn fashion, too heavy for the warm Spring air. He knew exactly who she was. Tamlin snarled when her light eyes connected with his own. 

“Lord Tamlin,” she curtsied in the doorway. 

“Get out.” 

His hoarse voice sounded weaker than he intended. She stilled, gripping the rose tight in her hand, the smell of blood instant in the air. This girl was a fool. 

“Get. Out.” 

“Lord Tamlin, respectfully no.”

She showed no sign of fear. He roared and while she flinched, she didn’t move or winnow away. 

“What is wrong with you girl?” He growled. “Do you wish to meet death?” 

“I wish to come home,” she said softly. “Lord Tamlin, I cannot stay in that rotten court any longer. The villages are gone. I had hoped the manor was untouched but-“

“You will not find a home here.” His claws clanked against the wooden floor while he crept closer. “Leave.”

“Lord Tamlin.”

He tilted his head, some of the matted fur in his mane pulling taunt. 

“Leave.” He commanded. 

She fought it. She closed her eyes and squeezed the rose stem again, blood running down her wrist. The flower brightened, her magic seeping into it. 

“I am not the only one who wants to come home.” She said it with pain in her voice. “Please, Lord Tamlin. Let us come home.”

“And who, Lady Flora, is foolish enough to want to return to this ruin?” She opened her eyes in shock. Was she shocked he remembered her name? “If it is your things you need, get them. Do not come back.” 

He turned to leave. He did not think he had any pride left to be wounded. Yet he felt it. 

“My family,” she called out. He stopped but didn’t turn. “My family and others. My father and several others in Autumn have talked. To offer aid to rebuild if we can return.” 

“Do they think they will gain my favor?” He turned and growled. “Do they think I will offer them riches? They are fools.” 

There was pain in her eyes. She stepped towards him, flowers blooming under her feet as she walked. She stopped in front of him, shoulders squared. 

“This is my home. My court. I do not care if it is you or the next High Lord of Spring that allows me entry. I will come home.” 

“You threaten me, girl?”

She had the audacity to shrug. “What is a threat to a beast? You would have killed me by now if you wanted.” He snarled again, his pride wounded further. She continued with a slight smirk, “you forgot how stubborn I am, Lord Tamlin.”

She stepped close. Too close. He should have left. He should have used his power to force her out. Instead he stood still. She reached out with the rose and he didn’t move as she tucked it in his mane, near his horns. When was the last time anyone had touched him? 

“I will be back with my father in three days time whether you’re here or not. You can be the beast in the woods or the High Lord that welcomes his court back home. That is your choice to make.” 

She winnowed away leaving a smell of citrus, floral, and iron in the air. He shifted into his fae form, the rose falling to the ground. He did not feel ready to greet his court but maybe, he thought as he picked the rose up, maybe he didn’t have to be. 

[heckitall]

back - next

its the

FINAL

COUNT DOWN

bah-da-da-dah

da-dah-da

anyway finally the reddish hue boys

it was so so hard to not make the bg any busier

[bird-prince-art]

friend made my birthday cake

[eldritch-ace]

May the fourth be with you!!! 💫✨

[lesbianshepard]

can't stop thinking about how Remmick had a black eye after fleeing the Choctaw vampire hunters. Forget stakes and holy water and garlic; they were just straight up beating his ass

[theriverdraws]

Day 24 of drawing susie every day until the chapters release. Origin Story (that's kris just so yknow lol)

[amber-laughs]

sotr - 5/10 - not worth it - do not recommend

[supertaliart]

Thinking about the Coruscant subway system

[stellanslashgeode]

Okay, so. Star Wars has all these concepts that weirdo New Left boomer George Lucas tosses in there but because of storyteller limitations it would kill the plot to fully explain them all, so later writers have to come in for the spin-off materials and bat clean-up to fully explain all this crazy crap. And I would like to talk about something that made me actively angry at first, but which I now adore. And that is the Naboo.

So much about Naboo culture is infuriating from a logical standpoint. They have a queen, okay. A constitutionally elected queen? Weird, okay. Don't know why they'd do that but... She's FOURTEEN? Excuse me? Is it a ceremonial thing or, oh no it's not? Legit head of state? Why does she dress like that? Why does she talk like that? I'm so tired.

Here's the explainer. Let me go cook.

There's this joke in Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy where the last living human goes back in time and finds out humans aren't actually from Earth, but an alien culture that tricked all the middle managers, pedantic weirdos, and other infuriating folk into getting in a space arc which they gave the wrong evacuation coordinates to simply get rid of them. The Naboo are like this but they're all artists and poets and hippies, but like classy ones. They fled their home planet during a war and crash landed on Naboo, then did a colonism to the Gungans because, hey, they were fleeing a war and it was do or die. This spiritual rot in their creation story is later rectified by Padmé. But it's super important to their cultural psychology. They're hippies, but will subjugate if needed. They are "peaceful" but I guarantee you every single one of them has a tiny extremely shiny pistol up their sleeve and they will draw down on you if backed against a wall.

The scene that I think says it all is at the end of Phantom Menace when Padmé is surrounded by Nute Gunray and his droids, they've got her dead to rights, but Sabé her double creates a distraction so the queen can make it to her throne. This one piece of furniture is the Naboo in a nutshell. It's richly carved with artistic details, it has two seats to the side so the queen's handmaidens can read the lips of people in the back of the room and use hand signals to communicate with the queen while she can remain focused mostly on who is speaking to her. It is hundreds of years old. And it has a secret compartment in the armrest that is FULL OF GUNS. Layers of artistic opulence hiding their true intentions.

The Naboo were created to be backwards compatible with Princess Leia. They're compassionate pacifists, but they will shot you if needed.

Why do they elect teenage royalty? It's a little creepy. It's giving "age of consent is emotional maturity". It makes no sense.

The explanation they give outsiders is they want youthful idealism untainted by cynicism. What they don't tell you is that they take kids with stated interest in politics and put them in an advanced highly competitive Leadership Academy which is like Model UN mixed with Battle Royale. Well, they don't kill each other but it's intense. It's like what the clones went though just all diplomacy training and tea ceremonies all the time. Which is crazy but so Naboo.

Oh, and all the delegates for the royalty election run using pseudonyms for security. Imagine voting for the head of state but you can't run a background check. It's so crazy.

Why does Padmé dress like that? Well, fashion is one of Naboo's major industries so it's like she's wearing the entire Fall line catalog at once. To advertise not only the talent of her people, but to show how much they favor her. BUT that dress has multiple layers of padding and resin armor. And aforementioned spots for those little silver blasters. And it breaks up her silhouette making her harder to shoot. And it's so elaborate you pay more attention to the crazy dress and not if the person wearing it is really the queen or a decoy. Everything about Naboo is like this.

Queen Amidala has that weird accent while Padmé does not. Because all her handmaidens helped create the accent together so they all can imitate it. It's like if you gave girls at a rowdy sleepover the job of federal counterintelligence. That's what they came up with.

The handmaidens wear colorful identical clothes so you can't tell them apart, hoods to partially conceal their identity, and they don't wear the queen's fancy makeup. So one of them can be the queen and spy on people in the audience. Because the Naboo don't trust shit for shit.

Their public face is so silly to hide all the truly weird shit they do behind the scenes.

They use their reputation as artist hippies to conceal multiple layers of subterfuge and disguise their methods of self defense and assuage their paranoia due to wartime trauma and their disturbing colonial past. All of them are completely off their rocker even by Star Wars standards. And I love them so much. They put on a show so everyone thinks they have them figured out but what they have going on is far more weirder and more sinister than meets the eye. You know how catty, neurotic, and competitive art school students stereotypically are? Yeah, planet art student. Love them!

There you go, @charmwasjess

[bluemoonscape]

Big fan of characters who “kill” their younger selves. Characters who resent the past version of themselves for letting them get hurt, who look at that kid and feel revolted by the foreignness of it. Characters who feel they have to cut the child out of them like a tumor because it’s hurting them too much and if I don’t kill you you’ll kill me. Nearly nothing remaining of that past self but for the little connections and mannerisms they can’t kick, and when it shines through, it’s a terrible, tragic thing, because the child is still in there. It’s in there and it’s grotesque in its suffocation. But it’s there.

[galactic-rhea]

mission on swamp planet<3

[tip jar!]

[totallynotobsessedwithfandoms]

I think clone wars dark side anakin is my favorite dark side anakin. because yeah, in the movies, you can tell he's gonna fall. maybe not in the phantom menace, but in attack of the clones and revenge of the sith, it's so obvious! everything about him just oozes both light and dark, the dark steadily winning. but clone wars anakin? clone wars anakin? oh, he's a sun. he's blindingly bright and he's happy. we can go full episodes without a trace of the dark side showing up on his face or in his actions, which makes when he does go dark even more jarring. when he snaps and attacks and the imperial march plays faintly in the background, when not even ten minutes earlier in the episode he was joking around with ahsoka. that is peak dark side anakin to me, because that is what i imagine anakin truly was. happy and fun and then snapping, terrifying. it's why no one believed it when he fell. why obi-wan and padme and ahsoka didn't see it coming.

[thehungreecat]

Order 66

[bird-prince-art]

May the force be with you 💫

(Happy Star Wars Day!)

[redn1ghtcrawler]

Was supposed to be a warmup but eh…