Tamsand - Tumblr Posts
"She told me I'm worthless," Tamlin whispered, but his voice was a little stronger. "I'll never be able to be loved. That they'll always see this darkness, what… I've done. She'd know, wouldn't she? If she were alive. Feyre would know, as soon as she saw me."
Rhysand gently moved Tamlin to face him again. "You are not worthless," He said firmly. "You are worthy of love. Take it from someone who does know."
"How do you know?" Rhysand could have happily slaughtered half the world if it would have removed the despair in those green-gold eyes, removed the darkness in his head. He leaned forward and kissed his forehead.
I swore I would kill him, not so long ago.
"I know because I love you."
From the amazing Tamlin/Rhysand epic A Court of Lies and Resurrection. An AU where Amarantha kills Feyre before she can break the curse, and Tamlin is taken under the mountain to serve her.
"She told me I'm worthless," Tamlin whispered, but his voice was a little stronger. "I'll never be able to be loved. That they'll always see this darkness, what… I've done. She'd know, wouldn't she? If she were alive. Feyre would know, as soon as she saw me."
Rhysand gently moved Tamlin to face him again. "You are not worthless," He said firmly. "You are worthy of love. Take it from someone who does know."
"How do you know?" Rhysand could have happily slaughtered half the world if it would have removed the despair in those green-gold eyes, removed the darkness in his head. He leaned forward and kissed his forehead.
I swore I would kill him, not so long ago.
"I know because I love you."
From the amazing Tamlin/Rhysand epic A Court of Lies and Resurrection. An AU where Amarantha kills Feyre before she can break the curse, and Tamlin is taken under the mountain to serve her.
"She told me I'm worthless," Tamlin whispered, but his voice was a little stronger. "I'll never be able to be loved. That they'll always see this darkness, what… I've done. She'd know, wouldn't she? If she were alive. Feyre would know, as soon as she saw me."
Rhysand gently moved Tamlin to face him again. "You are not worthless," He said firmly. "You are worthy of love. Take it from someone who does know."
"How do you know?" Rhysand could have happily slaughtered half the world if it would have removed the despair in those green-gold eyes, removed the darkness in his head. He leaned forward and kissed his forehead.
I swore I would kill him, not so long ago.
"I know because I love you."
From the amazing Tamlin/Rhysand epic A Court of Lies and Resurrection. An AU where Amarantha kills Feyre before she can break the curse, and Tamlin is taken under the mountain to serve her.
"She told me I'm worthless," Tamlin whispered, but his voice was a little stronger. "I'll never be able to be loved. That they'll always see this darkness, what… I've done. She'd know, wouldn't she? If she were alive. Feyre would know, as soon as she saw me."
Rhysand gently moved Tamlin to face him again. "You are not worthless," He said firmly. "You are worthy of love. Take it from someone who does know."
"How do you know?" Rhysand could have happily slaughtered half the world if it would have removed the despair in those green-gold eyes, removed the darkness in his head. He leaned forward and kissed his forehead.
I swore I would kill him, not so long ago.
"I know because I love you."
From the amazing Tamlin/Rhysand epic A Court of Lies and Resurrection. An AU where Amarantha kills Feyre before she can break the curse, and Tamlin is taken under the mountain to serve her.
Feeling God in this Chile's tonight and after seeing a post about how Tamlin and Rhysand are definitely definitely definitely exes, I am sharing this very short scene of my Tamsand story that I have not edited at allll.
This is right after Rhys makes Tamlin bow:
Tamlin watched Rhys winnow away but could feel he hadn’t gone far.
Fuck.
He hurried out Feyre and Lucien in a panic needing a few moments to himself. This was bad. This was so so bad. Everything was falling apart, things he had barely realized he had built.
After a few moments of flipping the table and chairs, he smoothed his hair and clothes and walked calmly to his office. Rhysand was there, sitting at his desk, feet propped. He sat up, smiling.
“Tamlin. Took you long enough. You’d think you wouldn’t keep me waiting considering I hold your entire worthless life in my hands.” He cupped them, as if holding a baby bird.
Tamlin scoffed. “What could you possibly have to say to me that you haven’t already said? Come to make me beg again? I will. What does it matter? You’ll do whatever you want anyway.” His voice sounded hollow.
Rhysand hummed, walking closer. “I have to say, seeing you on your knees did bring back some fond memories.” He stopped in front of Tamlin, too close. Tamlin refused to take a step back.
“Raising your price for your silence, then?” he asked. His body betrayed him, warming at the thought. He quashed it.
“As tempting as that sounds, not today,” Rhysand brushed his thumb across his mouth. Tamlin followed the movement. “Clare seems….sweet. I’m shocked you’re actually doing this. After all this time? But you’ve waited too long, I’m afraid. You wont make it.”
Tamlin knew this was true. If only he’d met Feyre sooner, days, weeks, years, he knew this curse would have been broken. And then what? He would have his power back and Amarantha would still have the power of six High Lords plus her own. Plus all of Hybern to do her bidding. Feyre would have been dead the minute his mask fell. Winning wouldn’t be winning; it was just Amarantha liking to play with her food.
He still didn’t know if he was doing the right thing. Putting all of this on her fragile shoulders. But he was so tired. Tired of all of it.
Tamlin shrugged.
Rhysand started to circle him. He stopped inches from Tamlin’s back. He felt the whisper of Rhys’s nose glide along his neck. “You know, maybe I should tell Amarantha. I’m feeling a little jealous about how much that little wisp wants you. She’s desperate,” he whispers.
Tamlin tried to not to react to this information as he had in the dining room. He knew Feyre was attracted to him but his attraction to her had gone up exponentially last night. Remembering her dancing, full of faerie wine made Tamlin’s breathing hitch. She was stunning.
Rhysand caught it. “Oh that’s rich. You want her too? Tamlin, come now! After all you’ve seen from your father, I’m shocked your little bleeding heart could stomach it. She’s practically an infant.”
“She looks like a woman. And, you know my heart hasn’t bled in decades,” Tamlin said, avoiding Rhys’s implications. He’d struggled with the ethics of the game for years but Feyre didn’t feel like a child to him. She felt like someone who understood him. Someone who was beautiful and wild and kind.
Rhys let out a humorless laugh. “I suppose you’re right. There is something about her. She's feisty, like you used to be." He paused and faced Tamlin again, watching his face, "You know, she thinks me dreadfully handsome. Perhaps when Amarantha has you at her side and I’m without a job, I’ll take little Clare as my pet. What do you say to that?”
Tamlin growled without thinking. “Stay away from her.”
Rhys rolled his eyes. “Cauldron boil me. You’re so easy to rile, darling. You’d think after 49 years of wearing a mask, you would have figured out how to wear a mask.” Rhys’s mocking exasperation quickly dropped into an expression of mild placidity. “Better get some practice in before the week is out.”
Rhys leaned forward and kissed Tamlin on the cheek, “See you soon.” He vanished.
Feeling God in this Chile's tonight and after seeing a post about how Tamlin and Rhysand are definitely definitely definitely exes, I am sharing this very short scene of my Tamsand story that I have not edited at allll.
This is right after Rhys makes Tamlin bow:
Tamlin watched Rhys winnow away but could feel he hadn’t gone far.
Fuck.
He hurried out Feyre and Lucien in a panic needing a few moments to himself. This was bad. This was so so bad. Everything was falling apart, things he had barely realized he had built.
After a few moments of flipping the table and chairs, he smoothed his hair and clothes and walked calmly to his office. Rhysand was there, sitting at his desk, feet propped. He sat up, smiling.
“Tamlin. Took you long enough. You’d think you wouldn’t keep me waiting considering I hold your entire worthless life in my hands.” He cupped them, as if holding a baby bird.
Tamlin scoffed. “What could you possibly have to say to me that you haven’t already said? Come to make me beg again? I will. What does it matter? You’ll do whatever you want anyway.” His voice sounded hollow.
Rhysand hummed, walking closer. “I have to say, seeing you on your knees did bring back some fond memories.” He stopped in front of Tamlin, too close. Tamlin refused to take a step back.
“Raising your price for your silence, then?” he asked. His body betrayed him, warming at the thought. He quashed it.
“As tempting as that sounds, not today,” Rhysand brushed his thumb across his mouth. Tamlin followed the movement. “Clare seems….sweet. I’m shocked you’re actually doing this. After all this time? But you’ve waited too long, I’m afraid. You wont make it.”
Tamlin knew this was true. If only he’d met Feyre sooner, days, weeks, years, he knew this curse would have been broken. And then what? He would have his power back and Amarantha would still have the power of six High Lords plus her own. Plus all of Hybern to do her bidding. Feyre would have been dead the minute his mask fell. Winning wouldn’t be winning; it was just Amarantha liking to play with her food.
He still didn’t know if he was doing the right thing. Putting all of this on her fragile shoulders. But he was so tired. Tired of all of it.
Tamlin shrugged.
Rhysand started to circle him. He stopped inches from Tamlin’s back. He felt the whisper of Rhys’s nose glide along his neck. “You know, maybe I should tell Amarantha. I’m feeling a little jealous about how much that little wisp wants you. She’s desperate,” he whispers.
Tamlin tried to not to react to this information as he had in the dining room. He knew Feyre was attracted to him but his attraction to her had gone up exponentially last night. Remembering her dancing, full of faerie wine made Tamlin’s breathing hitch. She was stunning.
Rhysand caught it. “Oh that’s rich. You want her too? Tamlin, come now! After all you’ve seen from your father, I’m shocked your little bleeding heart could stomach it. She’s practically an infant.”
“She looks like a woman. And, you know my heart hasn’t bled in decades,” Tamlin said, avoiding Rhys’s implications. He’d struggled with the ethics of the game for years but Feyre didn’t feel like a child to him. She felt like someone who understood him. Someone who was beautiful and wild and kind.
Rhys let out a humorless laugh. “I suppose you’re right. There is something about her. She's feisty, like you used to be." He paused and faced Tamlin again, watching his face, "You know, she thinks me dreadfully handsome. Perhaps when Amarantha has you at her side and I’m without a job, I’ll take little Clare as my pet. What do you say to that?”
Tamlin growled without thinking. “Stay away from her.”
Rhys rolled his eyes. “Cauldron boil me. You’re so easy to rile, darling. You’d think after 49 years of wearing a mask, you would have figured out how to wear a mask.” Rhys’s mocking exasperation quickly dropped into an expression of mild placidity. “Better get some practice in before the week is out.”
Rhys leaned forward and kissed Tamlin on the cheek, “See you soon.” He vanished.
Feeling God in this Chile's tonight and after seeing a post about how Tamlin and Rhysand are definitely definitely definitely exes, I am sharing this very short scene of my Tamsand story that I have not edited at allll.
This is right after Rhys makes Tamlin bow:
Tamlin watched Rhys winnow away but could feel he hadn’t gone far.
Fuck.
He hurried out Feyre and Lucien in a panic needing a few moments to himself. This was bad. This was so so bad. Everything was falling apart, things he had barely realized he had built.
After a few moments of flipping the table and chairs, he smoothed his hair and clothes and walked calmly to his office. Rhysand was there, sitting at his desk, feet propped. He sat up, smiling.
“Tamlin. Took you long enough. You’d think you wouldn’t keep me waiting considering I hold your entire worthless life in my hands.” He cupped them, as if holding a baby bird.
Tamlin scoffed. “What could you possibly have to say to me that you haven’t already said? Come to make me beg again? I will. What does it matter? You’ll do whatever you want anyway.” His voice sounded hollow.
Rhysand hummed, walking closer. “I have to say, seeing you on your knees did bring back some fond memories.” He stopped in front of Tamlin, too close. Tamlin refused to take a step back.
“Raising your price for your silence, then?” he asked. His body betrayed him, warming at the thought. He quashed it.
“As tempting as that sounds, not today,” Rhysand brushed his thumb across his mouth. Tamlin followed the movement. “Clare seems….sweet. I’m shocked you’re actually doing this. After all this time? But you’ve waited too long, I’m afraid. You wont make it.”
Tamlin knew this was true. If only he’d met Feyre sooner, days, weeks, years, he knew this curse would have been broken. And then what? He would have his power back and Amarantha would still have the power of six High Lords plus her own. Plus all of Hybern to do her bidding. Feyre would have been dead the minute his mask fell. Winning wouldn’t be winning; it was just Amarantha liking to play with her food.
He still didn’t know if he was doing the right thing. Putting all of this on her fragile shoulders. But he was so tired. Tired of all of it.
Tamlin shrugged.
Rhysand started to circle him. He stopped inches from Tamlin’s back. He felt the whisper of Rhys’s nose glide along his neck. “You know, maybe I should tell Amarantha. I’m feeling a little jealous about how much that little wisp wants you. She’s desperate,” he whispers.
Tamlin tried to not to react to this information as he had in the dining room. He knew Feyre was attracted to him but his attraction to her had gone up exponentially last night. Remembering her dancing, full of faerie wine made Tamlin’s breathing hitch. She was stunning.
Rhysand caught it. “Oh that’s rich. You want her too? Tamlin, come now! After all you’ve seen from your father, I’m shocked your little bleeding heart could stomach it. She’s practically an infant.”
“She looks like a woman. And, you know my heart hasn’t bled in decades,” Tamlin said, avoiding Rhys’s implications. He’d struggled with the ethics of the game for years but Feyre didn’t feel like a child to him. She felt like someone who understood him. Someone who was beautiful and wild and kind.
Rhys let out a humorless laugh. “I suppose you’re right. There is something about her. She's feisty, like you used to be." He paused and faced Tamlin again, watching his face, "You know, she thinks me dreadfully handsome. Perhaps when Amarantha has you at her side and I’m without a job, I’ll take little Clare as my pet. What do you say to that?”
Tamlin growled without thinking. “Stay away from her.”
Rhys rolled his eyes. “Cauldron boil me. You’re so easy to rile, darling. You’d think after 49 years of wearing a mask, you would have figured out how to wear a mask.” Rhys’s mocking exasperation quickly dropped into an expression of mild placidity. “Better get some practice in before the week is out.”
Rhys leaned forward and kissed Tamlin on the cheek, “See you soon.” He vanished.
Feeling God in this Chile's tonight and after seeing a post about how Tamlin and Rhysand are definitely definitely definitely exes, I am sharing this very short scene of my Tamsand story that I have not edited at allll.
This is right after Rhys makes Tamlin bow:
Tamlin watched Rhys winnow away but could feel he hadn’t gone far.
Fuck.
He hurried out Feyre and Lucien in a panic needing a few moments to himself. This was bad. This was so so bad. Everything was falling apart, things he had barely realized he had built.
After a few moments of flipping the table and chairs, he smoothed his hair and clothes and walked calmly to his office. Rhysand was there, sitting at his desk, feet propped. He sat up, smiling.
“Tamlin. Took you long enough. You’d think you wouldn’t keep me waiting considering I hold your entire worthless life in my hands.” He cupped them, as if holding a baby bird.
Tamlin scoffed. “What could you possibly have to say to me that you haven’t already said? Come to make me beg again? I will. What does it matter? You’ll do whatever you want anyway.” His voice sounded hollow.
Rhysand hummed, walking closer. “I have to say, seeing you on your knees did bring back some fond memories.” He stopped in front of Tamlin, too close. Tamlin refused to take a step back.
“Raising your price for your silence, then?” he asked. His body betrayed him, warming at the thought. He quashed it.
“As tempting as that sounds, not today,” Rhysand brushed his thumb across his mouth. Tamlin followed the movement. “Clare seems….sweet. I’m shocked you’re actually doing this. After all this time? But you’ve waited too long, I’m afraid. You wont make it.”
Tamlin knew this was true. If only he’d met Feyre sooner, days, weeks, years, he knew this curse would have been broken. And then what? He would have his power back and Amarantha would still have the power of six High Lords plus her own. Plus all of Hybern to do her bidding. Feyre would have been dead the minute his mask fell. Winning wouldn’t be winning; it was just Amarantha liking to play with her food.
He still didn’t know if he was doing the right thing. Putting all of this on her fragile shoulders. But he was so tired. Tired of all of it.
Tamlin shrugged.
Rhysand started to circle him. He stopped inches from Tamlin’s back. He felt the whisper of Rhys’s nose glide along his neck. “You know, maybe I should tell Amarantha. I’m feeling a little jealous about how much that little wisp wants you. She’s desperate,” he whispers.
Tamlin tried to not to react to this information as he had in the dining room. He knew Feyre was attracted to him but his attraction to her had gone up exponentially last night. Remembering her dancing, full of faerie wine made Tamlin’s breathing hitch. She was stunning.
Rhysand caught it. “Oh that’s rich. You want her too? Tamlin, come now! After all you’ve seen from your father, I’m shocked your little bleeding heart could stomach it. She’s practically an infant.”
“She looks like a woman. And, you know my heart hasn’t bled in decades,” Tamlin said, avoiding Rhys’s implications. He’d struggled with the ethics of the game for years but Feyre didn’t feel like a child to him. She felt like someone who understood him. Someone who was beautiful and wild and kind.
Rhys let out a humorless laugh. “I suppose you’re right. There is something about her. She's feisty, like you used to be." He paused and faced Tamlin again, watching his face, "You know, she thinks me dreadfully handsome. Perhaps when Amarantha has you at her side and I’m without a job, I’ll take little Clare as my pet. What do you say to that?”
Tamlin growled without thinking. “Stay away from her.”
Rhys rolled his eyes. “Cauldron boil me. You’re so easy to rile, darling. You’d think after 49 years of wearing a mask, you would have figured out how to wear a mask.” Rhys’s mocking exasperation quickly dropped into an expression of mild placidity. “Better get some practice in before the week is out.”
Rhys leaned forward and kissed Tamlin on the cheek, “See you soon.” He vanished.
sorry, good morning🧍🏻♀️femTamlin sketch 3/5
Crackships 7-9 🥰
Tamlin x Rhys
Lucien x Tamlin
Elain x Gwyn
All have NSFW versions up on my Patreon 🥰
I just know that the high lords were secretly pumped when feyre left tamlin because they knew that he was gonna write the break up album of the century, and the last time that they had anything good to listen to was a century ago when he left rhysands ass.
Day 1: Heir of Spring
The enemy of my enemy may possibly be the father of my child
A small crack fic to start us off with a bang ;)
@tamlinweek
Tamlin winnowed into the Summer Court hall with a resounding boom. All eyes turned to face the surprise guest, then the murmuring began.
Tarquin stood from his seat in greeting.
“Tamlin, are you alright? We weren’t sure that you would join us today, we missed you at the last meeting in the Day Court.”
The male was dishevelled, his hair wild around his shoulders and his eyes bright and frantic. A green velvet robe hung precariously on his frame, gaping open at his chest.
Tamlin's hands fluttered by his sides somewhat helplessly before finally resting on his hips. He looked about the room.
“I need to make an heir.”
“I… beg your pardon?”
“Spring is dying. When the path was cleared for Hybern to invade, he destroyed the land. All life has disappeared from my Court. My people are scared and they need a home, yet it lies in ruin. If I want to have any hope of restoring my Court, it is my duty as the High Lord to produce an heir and bring forth new life. to repair the balance of Spring.”
He continued, pacing about the room even as several jaws dropped at this new bit of information.
“I won’t stay for long. I only wanted to share what I have learned and to ask you to inform your courts. Any males who you deem worthy of this task should journey to Spring immediately. Calanmai fast approaches and will be upon us within the moon. I want to take advantage of that.”
Thesan, who found himself seated next to Rhysand, could have sworn he heard the male emit a high squeak that he struggled to hide as his fingers clutched at his armrest.
The High Lord of Night coughed delicately. "Males, Tamlin?" He attempted a drawl, but his gaze was far too intent, Thesan thought delightedly. It completely belied his suave façade.
Tamlin spoke again, his eyes fixed on Rhys in a pointed stare.
“Naturally. After all that Spring has suffered, I trust no-one but myself to carry my child.”
Beside him, Feyre twitched.
A beat, then Helion’s deep laughter echoed throughout the hall.
“What a predicament you find yourself in, Tamlin! Rest assured, I will inform the members of my court and personally select my most capable of males for you. Perhaps I might even make an appearance myself at Calanmai this year.”
Helion waggled his eyebrows, Tamlin rolled his eyes.
“My thanks, Helion.”
Then, as if a dam had broken, each of the High Lords in turn spoke their agreement, promising their aid.
Then, there remained only Night.
Tamlin's lip turned upwards just a tad, “Rest assured, I will not be seeking aid from Night. You may keep your seed to yourselves.”
“Bold of you to speak as if the Night Court would ever willingly offer you aid.” Feyre said hotly.
“You know,” he smiled toothily, “I’m surprised that Tarquin has allowed you two back in his Court at all, considering what happened the last time he extended his good will towards you. I only hope you don’t steal any artifacts or destroy any monuments on your way out. Besides, I wouldn’t want any child of mine to have such abhorrent traits.”
Feyre glowered, opening her mouth to speak again when Tarquin clapped his hands, rising from his seat. "If that will be all?"
"Of course. Apologies for the disturbance, Tarquin. I'll be making my leave."
Tamlin turned back to Feyre, dipping his head mockingly, "My lady."
She glared viciously at him but said nothing in reply.
“Lords, Ladies. I shall see you all at Calanmai.”
Some time later
“... Er, is something the matter?” Kallias paused in his report to glance concernedly in Tamlin's direction.
Almost simultaneously, all eyes whipped round to the High Lord of Spring, who was wriggling in his seat, expression stormy.
Sitting across from him were the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court, neither of whom had bothered to erase the stunned, slightly aghast expressions on their faces that had been present ever since his arrival.
“Fine,” Tamlin said tightly, his hand running over the swell of his stomach. “Just wondering if all of this is worth saving the Spring Court from eternal ruin, is all.”
Lady Freya of Autumn turned towards him.
“Perhaps you ought to shift, dear. I remember your mother when she was deep in her pregnancy with you. She would often shift as the mood struck to be more comfortable. Besides, the babe will be due in less than two months now."
Tamlin smiled, sadness tinging his lips at the mention of his mother. "I suppose I have been putting it off for quite a while now... If you’ll all excuse me for just a moment.”
A sudden glow engulfed the Spring Lord and shimmered in the air before dissipating, leaving behind-
A set of hands thudded loudly on the great table, accompanied by the sound of a crashing chair.
“You can shapeshift?!” Feyre shouted over at Tamlin.
She cocked her head in bemusement, running her hands over her stomach. “Feyre, you inherited your shapeshifting powers from me. Of course I can shapeshift.”
Feyre's face was a splendid shade of red. “I meant during pregnancy,”
Tamlin's lips thinned into a line, utterly perplexed. “Feyre, I am a shapeshifter by nature… Of course I can shapeshift during pregnancy. I would have thought that Rhys would have informed you of this, given the complicated nature of your own pregnancy.”
Quick as a whip, all eyes were on Rhysand, who had yet to speak. His face was frozen into a half smile, his knuckles white on the table top.
Feyre's eyes flashed as she crossed her arms, looking at him expectantly.
"I- had forgotten about Tamlin's abilities."
Tamlin arched an eyebrow sardonically. "I truly, truly find that hard to believe, Rhysand. I'd shifted between male and female enough times in our youth that I'd thought the knowledge might have stuck with you. It certainly made an impression on you the last time I shifted"
"I-"
"And besides, there are plenty of shapeshifters in Spring. If you didn't want to consult me all those times you were trespassing on my lands, you could have spoken to any of the fae in the Westerlands and they could have told you everything you needed to know."
Silence fell over the round table, then Feyre flung herself at Rhysand with nails bared as he scrabbled to escape, screaming shrilly.
All in all, it was a very eventful meeting.
Tamlin's daughter (who is his exact mirror) accompanies him to the High Lord summit one year, and Nyx takes one look at her before his brain bluescreens and he walks into a wall.
'It seems some preferences run through your side of the family, Rhysand.'
Nyx is besotted with her, and she couldn't care less about him. Like father like daughter.