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tamlinweek · 9 days

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“Tragic, for him to die so young and so . . . bloody.”

written for day 5: shapeshifter of @tamlinweek.💚🌷/ one moonlit, eerie night, two monsters strike a bargain. / (SW)

a/n: this is a little fic based off of an edit i did a while back of a concept of werewolf!tamlin and vampire!nesta but put them in a guy ritchie's sherlock holmes backdrop (or late victorian/early edwardian), because why not.

tw: none.

He caught her in the gardens, looking as innocent as a thorn on a rose, her crimson dress fluttering around her when she whipped around to face him. As soon as he’d seen her slinking away from the overzealous crowd of guests, he’d followed after her, his steps not quite as silent as hers.

“Are the festivities not to your liking, my lady?” Tamlin gestured a ways behind him, where warm light illuminated the high windows of Greenwood Manor and the sounds of merriment rose and fell to the tune of the small orchestra. “I told my emissary a circus would’ve been more lively this year.”

She didn’t titter or blush at his jest, didn’t flush at being found in an odd position. Instead she glanced him once up and down, a slow perusal not unlike a predator sizing up an adversary. Her heels clicked against the stone pavement as she strode closer to him, still a smile absent from her red painted lips.

Lady Nesta Mandray was more formidable in person than he imagined she would be. Recently widowed and thought to be a recluse, he'd sent her an invitation to his annual Spring Equinox ball anyway and was mildly pleased she'd taken the bait and made an appearance.

Even if her state of dress was not what he was expecting.

The gown that adorned her body was still modest in fashion, as all dresses worn by genteel women of high status tended to be, but the vibrant red was a stark contrast to the lilacs and tangerines and yellows swirling around the ballroom right now.

At last, she gave him a smile, though it was too sharp and too fleeting. "I wasn't aware all your guests were to be kept prisoner in that stuffy old ballroom." She threw a dismissive look at the manor behind him and Tamlin found himself growing more fond of her for it. "Am I not allowed anywhere else on the grounds?"

He chuckled softly, head bowing as he closed a few more steps between them, “Forgive me, I've been a horrendous host." Tamlin paused, taking his turn to study her, and understood that perhaps he was the prey. "Would you care for a tour of the grounds, Lady Mandray?”

“Lady Archeron,” she corrected. “I’m afraid Tomas’ name died along with him.” Her sharp gaze seemed to say good riddance.

He smiled. The first real one he’d permitted to show her. “Would you care for a tour of the grounds, Lady Archeron?”

She regarded his offered arm with unconcealed hesitance, her silver eyes flicking up to meet his as she spoke her next words slowly, carefully.

“Should I be frightened of you, Lord Greenwood?”

“No.” He was not the kind of monster he suspected Lord Mandray had been. “Not as I am now.”

She arched a brow, and he could almost see the cogs in her brain turning, trying to piece together what he meant. Not as he was now. Not when the moon was only half-full.

It was a tentative, deliberate action but after a few moments of silence, Nesta relented, her fingers curling lightly over his upper arm. Even through the layers of his expensive coat jacket and shirt, he could feel the unnatural chill of her touch.

Without meaning to, Tamlin shivered at that touch and she gave him another one of her rare smiles. “My apologies.” She sounded anything but, and he swore an undertone of delight colored her voice. “I haven’t seen much sunlight since Tomas’ death.” A hunting accident of sorts, he’d heard, though Tamlin didn’t doubt he had help reaching his end.

He struck an easy pace through the gardens and the vineyard, moonlight illuminating their path. “I would offer my condolences, but it would be a lie to say I’m not pleased you no longer have a husband.”

Nesta laughed, a cold and lovely sound. “If you’re attempting to court me, you’ll have to do a lot better than that.”

“Without a chaperone? I wouldn’t dare besmirch your reputation.”

She waved a hand in the direction of the revelry, her nose crinkling in distaste. “If I cared for a moment what those peacocks and pigeons thought of me, I wouldn’t risk being caught in the shadows with you.”

They were almost upon the winery now, a more modest building in comparison, but still sturdily built. And conveniently vacant.

Tamlin slowed their pace, coming to a halt before the padlocked front door. “Something tells me you accepted my invitation and came all this way to risk something else entirely.” He felt her grip on his arm tighten almost imperceptibly. “Your late husband was quite a paranoid man, last I remember.”

The shift in conversation seemed to ruffle her feathers a little and Nesta gently pulled away from him, her fingers digging into the folds of her dress. “And when do you remember him last?”

“I believe it was right before his death.” He said it matter-of-factly, his eyes tracking her movements with quiet interest. “Tragic, for him to die so young and so . . . bloody.”

She shrugged, and he had the impression that both of their masks were rapidly slipping. “He wasn’t a very smart man.” Nesta began to walk, circling him slowly, her eyes half-lidded yet somehow more aware. “I always did tell him to pick his marks carefully, and he always did aim a little higher than he should have.” The tips of her fingers grazed over her exposed collar bone, where he could faintly make out the remnants of a scar. Puckered but fading. Almost as if there’d once been a bullet wound there. “I wonder, Lord Greenwood,” her eyes sharpened and she stilled in front of him, “do you consider yourself a smart man?”

“Oh, only the smartest,” he admitted calmly, an amused smile curving over his mouth. “Though I prefer you be the judge of that.” With that, he strode to the door and removed the padlock, quickly pocketing the small key afterward. Tamlin swung the door open and tilted his head towards it in invitation.

Nesta threw him a suspicious, narrow-eyed look but otherwise strode into the dimly lit winery without another word. He guided them once more, walking deeper and deeper into the barrel-filled building with complete confidence that they would run into no one. Other than the fact that his guests and staff were too drunk on spirits and levity to be roaming so far from the manor, Tamlin had strict rules imposed on the security of this particular building. The most prominent being that no one was to step foot in the building after dark and the door was to always be locked. The key was either always on his person or given to his emissary, Lucien, on the nights he needed someone to lock him in.

His staff was more than willing to believe the lord of Greenwood Manor had a haughty opinion of his stock, that perhaps he took certain measures because the secret to his winemaking was something he coveted greatly. And Tamlin let them believe as such. For the alternative — the truth — would see him in bedlam.

They finally halted before a set of cells. Two large, cold imprisonments hidden deep in the winery’s basement, the turn almost blocked by yet another high-stacked row of barrels. Understanding dawned on her face when Nesta took in the contents of the cells. Long, sturdy chains hammered into enforced concrete walls, the ends of them finished with shackles too big for anything human.

“Shackles? In a wine cellar?” She stood at the threshold of one of the open cell doors, a hint of amusement glinting at her eyes when she flicked them up to meet his. “Hardly a proper thing to reveal to a lady, your nighttime . . . activities?”

“Ah.” His mouth curved into a slow grin as he leaned against the iron bars, and when he spoke again his voice had gone rough. “But you’re no lady, are you?”

She turned, her smile unbidden now, as if all the pretense of propriety had been lifted. “No. But you’ve known that for some time now.”

“Ever since Tomas confided in me that he believed his wife would kill him, I admit, I’ve been suspiciously curious.” Nesta’s smile faltered, but he continued on. “He thought my connections with the Yard would be enough to condemn you to a madhouse. I, of course, refused him any help.”

“How chivalrous of you,” she drawled, “Unfortunately, I have no need of a white knight.”

“Good,” he smiled, letting a bit of the contained ferality peek through his expression. “I would hate to disappoint you.”

“Then tell me, Lord Greenwood—” Nesta paused, stepping closer to him, a serious and impatient tone settling over her features, “Why do any of this? What do you want with me?”

“I have a . . . proposition, of sorts.”

“Go on.”

He laughed nervously, taking a moment to admire her straightforward demand, before asking, “Will you marry me, Lady Archeron?”

Those silver eyes narrowed again, and she gave a lazy perusal of him once more, only this time he had the feeling she was sizing him up for entirely different reasons. “Are you so eager to meet an end similar to Tomas?”

He pushed away from the bars to move closer to her, that gruff undertone returning to his speech. “If it were by your hands, I would die a happy man.”

Her eyes widened a fraction and he saw a faint flush of color rise over her cheeks. Before she could indeed make the decision to gut him right then and there, Tamlin said, “I believe a marriage would be beneficial to us both. To the secrets we want to hide and the habits we cannot break.”

Nesta regarded him quietly for a long moment, and he imagined she could see the advantages of his proposal. Of sharing the burdens of their secrets with one another. Of hiding the suspicions that would start to rise for the both of them as the years went on.

Finally, she tipped her chin and gave him another sharp, little smile. “I accept, Lord Greenwood.” Tamlin felt his heart jump at her words, a reaction he hadn’t anticipated when he’d set out to strike a bargain with Nesta Archeron. “Although I wouldn’t entirely rule out the possibility of mariticide, if I were you.”

“If you do decide to murder me, promise me you’ll keep my name.” He offered her his arm again, with the intention of leading them out of the winery to resume their stroll under the moonlight, his smile wider than he could constrain.

“A possessive man? How disappointing.”

“I don’t mean to own you, my lady. I mean to haunt you.”

Nesta laughed as she looped her arm around his, more at-ease now as she followed him back through empty building and out into the night. “I think it wouldn’t be too difficult to keep that promise.”

a/n: once again a super specific little piece that was meant to be posted a lot sooner 😀 but i had a lot of fun writing it and i hope you guys enjoy it too!

#I remember this edit!#love the fic!#acotar #tamlin #neslin #tamlin/nesta archeron #day 5 #fanfiction #tamlin fanfiction #tamlin week #tamlinweek #tamlin week 2024 #tamlinweek2024

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tamlinweek · 9 days

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Binding My Own Fanfiction // art upgrade

Some of you might remember my fanfiction bind and the temporary dustjacket I made, but my commission finally came in!

This was also supposed to be my submission for @tamlinweek Day 7 - Free day!

Read the fic on AO3.

Thank you @snaxk for the amazing, amazing cover!

I couldn't be happier; it's everything I wanted and more 🥹🥹🥹

I also want to thank @lucychanart and @deemsum for letting me use their art as inserts!

Your art was just so perfect for some of the key chapters in the fic!

A couple of notes for those interested in the process:

The title is actually gold, but it's hard to capture the gorgeous sheen on photo -- his eyes and earrings also are gold

I was having major, major issues with my gold pen. You can see a bit of the splatter -- this was my 2nd attempt printing. I didn't want to waste ink, paper and paint as I am binding a second copy for my best friend -- she is my beta reader, my editor and my first fan. Thoughts & prayers that my materials will AGREE with me!

I can't afford fancy dustjacket paper right now, but I did want to seal the art/gold paint. The texture you see on the photo is actually from matte-drying glue. I actually enjoy the texture a lot!!

Already that I am a chaotic crafter, I also injured myself and got blood on my materials RIP so be careful out there ya'll

The paper I used for the inserts are vellum, they are not currently glued, but I will do it for my second version.

#omg absolutely gorgeous!!!!#acotar #tamlin #tamsand #day 7 #fanfiction #tamlin fanfiction #misc #tamlin week #tamlinweek #tamlin week 2024 #tamlinweek2024

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tamlinweek · 10 days

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How Easy It Is To Worship You

This oneshot and moodboard is for Day 6 of Tamlin Week. The prompt is- Dreams.

This was an abandoned half finished work I had for a chapter of another fic, I fixed it up and redid it. Now I am sharing it with all of you.

Tamlin had a nightmare whilst sleeping in Lucien's room. Lucien helps comfort him and deal with the aftermath of his spiraling thoughts.

Read on Ao3 or below the cut!

“Stop.” He said.

Covered in red, the world around him was so dark. The stone against his knees scraping. A crawling feeling all over his body, it burned and burned. His flesh feeling like it might bubble away.

“Stop!” He screamed, tearing his throat. Raw, vulnerable and exposed, “Please, stop!”

“You left me, Tamlin Fairburn, you left me alone.” She whispered in his ear.

The face of Amarantha gleaned down at him, her pale, perfect face set with a cruel smile. Her slender fingers tangled in his hair, she pushed him down to the ground.

“You left me, Tamlin, you left me alone.” She whispered again.

The eye of Jurian flicked back and forth. Tamlin tried to push back, but like his body was weighed down by chains invisible to him, he could not move. Vision whiting in and out, he distantly thought he might pass out.

“Please stop, I’m sorry. I won’t leave you again, I swear.” He pleaded, tears falling down his face, splattering on his bare thighs, mixing with the blood.

“It's too late for that, Tamlin Fairburn, you left me.” Her voice was a breathy whisper, leaning close to him. Her reddened lips brushing the tip of his ear.

“I’m sorry. It was a mistake! I didn’t mean to. I never will again.” He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see her red hair curtaining around him.

“If it was a mistake, why didn’t you let me out when I begged you!” Tamlin’s eyes snapped open when he heard Amarantha’s voice choice, from a low cruel murmur to a desperate shriek.

All of a sudden Amarantha’s face changed, she shifted into a different being. Instead of red hair, it was dark golden and instead of brown eyes they were blue.

And suddenly there was a knife in his chest, and Feyre was screaming at him, “You locked me in there! You locked me up! There was no mistake! You left me Tamlin! You left me!”

Tamlin shot straight up. He was covered in a cold sweat, the world was blurry, everything was tilting and he didn’t know where he was. The lines between his dreams and reality blurring.

There was a hand on his shoulder, Tamlin pulled away as quickly as he could, ending up falling on the floor.

“Stop!” he shouted, “please stop!”

“Tamlin-”

“Please stop, please stop, please stop!” Tamlin repeated over and over, pulling his knees into his chest and hiding his face. His whole body was shaking, barely able to breathe from the way his breaths shuddered.

“Tamlin! It's me.” A soft, kind voice murmured.

Everything stilled, and Tamlin looked up to see Lucien on his knees before him. Hands on his thighs, his thumb twitched as his hand nearly darted out. Like he wanted to touch the High lord before him.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Lucien assured.

“Lucien.” Tamlin breathed.

“Yes.”

Lucien looked lovely in the moonlight, Tamlin thought. The silver light carved out his sharp cheekbones, and darkened his already lovely browned skin. Though, the fire lord certainly looked better in warm sunlight, looked ethereal in the sunset.

Tamlin looked around the room, and recognised it as Lucien’s room in the manor. As much as Lucien had managed to clean it up, there was still decay around here. The wood beginning to rot, and the tangled thorns lining the windows.

“Tam? Are you okay?” Lucien asked, his hand slowly reaching out.

The Spring Lord wanted to snap. He didn’t want to be treated like a skittish animal, and he hated the soft tone in Lucien’s voice as if his friend felt as though he needed to treat him like a child.

He wanted a fight. He wanted an argument. He wanted Lucien to tell him how much the fire lord hated him. He wanted to feel adrenaline rushing through him to just remember that he was alive and here. Just to know he was here, and not down there, not back there. In another place entirely. He wanted to feel like he was actually on earth, not in the liminal space of his memory.

But all of it got caught in his throat, none of the hateful words he wanted to spit came out and none of the anger coiling deep inside him erupted. It seemed to curl around itself, stuck in the depths of his body, no way to escape.

He was trapped. That Beast came thundering forward like the cage was opened, but the door was quickly thrown closed.

Lucien finally seemed to give in and reached out. He caught Tamlin’s hands in his, “Tamlin, please talk to me?”

“I’m fine.” Tamlin finally said.

“No, no you’re not, don’t give me that bullshit, what's wrong?”

He was too tired to do this. He was exhausted, eyes begging to fall shut, even as fear for whatever else he might see fought to overpower every sleepy sensation.

Tamlin tried glancing around the room, trying to find some way to get out of this. Trying to avoid the topic that in hindsight, needed to be discussed.

“Tamlin?”

“Can we go back to bed?” Tamlin ended up asking.

The Fox blinked at him, then squeezed his hands lightly and nodded, “Yeah, sure, we’ll go back to bed.”

The two males pulled themselves off the floor and flopped back into the soft mattress.

Tamlin tried curling himself onto the far side, he didn’t want Lucien to get too close to him. Everything was still pounding in his head, he was still trying to pull himself out of the nightmare.

Lucien wasn’t having any of it.

He wrapped his arms around his middle, curling around the Spring Lord, holding him close. Lucien pressed his face into the crook of Tamlin’s neck. His warm lips against his too hot skin.

“Lucien.” Tamlin whispered.

“Yes my love?”

“Why do you do this?”

Lucien shifted, he leaned on his elbow, so he could see over at Tamlin’s face. He started running his fingers through Tamlin’s curls, “Do what?”

“Why…” Tamlin squeezed his eyes shut, “Why do you keep trying to take care of me? Why do you keep trying to love me?”

To Tamlin’s surprise Lucien chuckled, “there's no ‘trying’. I love you, and I want to take care of you. It's as simple as that.”

Tamlin manoeuvred himself so he was laying flat on his back and staring up at Lucien. He tried to search his face for insincerity but only found a look of pure unfiltered love.

“Why? Why do you love me? I’ve never given you a reason to.” Tamlin stared into those deep never-ending amber flames, as his words poured out of his throat. Some kind of dam breaking.

“Tamlin-”

“And don’t say something like its because ‘I took you in after you were banished from Autumn’ even a bastard with half a heart would have taken you in on that night. You had your life ripped away from you, you had been thrown out of your own Court. It was a simple act, other than that I have done nothing to deserve your loyalty or your-”

“Tamlin shut up!” Lucien suddenly snapped, that soft kind face twisting into frustration.

Tamlin blinked up at the male above him, shocked into silence.

Lucien took in a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut and running his hand through his hair. “You want to know why I love you?”

Tamlin didn’t know what to do, he simply laid there, staring at Lucien. The fox went on.

“It's not because you saved me, it's not because you took me in, it's not because you made me emissary. It’s because of you. I love you just for yourself. I love every inch of you, every detail, every part. I know you put up a brave face in front of everyone, I know you put on a mask when Feyre was with you. I know Amarantha lusted after the idea of you. You are too used to people picking and choosing which parts of you to love, that you have forgotten that it is possible for people to love you just for yourself!”

The High lord stared up at Lucien, the male looked… near furious to say the least. Lucien was so careful with his temper, he didn’t lose control, he never lost it. Yet right now, he looked like he might tear Tamlin’s throat out… over Tamlin not understanding why Lucien loved him so much.

There was this possessive look in Lucien’s eyes, it was a look of fury and passion and love. A deep blush rose up his neck to the tips of his ears, desire and lust that hadn’t felt for years curled in his core.

Lucien held his eyes, deep longing curled in Tamlin. Something that he had long ago fought to suppress now rose to the surface once more.

The High lord had thought he stopped loving Lucien when Feyre came. Now he began to think that whilst he had loved Feyre, he had never let go of Lucien. Never truly dealt with the tension that had been simmering between them for centuries. Now, it started to overflow.

Lucien took both of Tamlin’s hands, rubbing his thumbs over the back of his palms, “You have forgotten what love really feels like, but I haven’t. I have loved you for centuries and I will keep loving you. No matter how far away you are for me, I will wait for you. I will always be here when you come back. I love you, Golden ray. I love you so much it hurts me. There is nothing in the world that can drive me apart from you for long.”

“But I-” Tamlin tried to start, but Lucien quickly cupped his face and leaned down.

“Stop, there is nothing that will drive us apart for long.” Lucien repeated, “Nothing at all.”

Heat seemed to engulf the room, like flames had leapt up in the fireplace despite it being as dark and cold as it was two minutes ago. The silver light and dark shadows danced around them as Lucien shuffled ever so slight. His red hair, seeming near black in the night, curtained around Tamlin’s head. Keeping a space between them locked.

They were sharing some kind of deep, intimate moment. Tamlin could feel it deep in his blood. Running through every part of him as his heart thudded against his ribcage. Lucien’s eyes dragged from his eyes, down to his lips, and further, down his neck and watched how his chest rose and fell, before slowly bringing them back up to his eyes.

“I won’t…” Lucien squeezed his eyes shut, seemingly for once in his life at some kind of loss for words. Tamlin may have found it funny if it weren’t for the fact his heart was going so fast he was nearly confused that it hadn’t yet burst from his chest, “I won’t ever abandon you, Tam.”

But what if I abandon you.. Tamlin wished to say. The memories of his own wrongs, the mistakes he had made that cost him his court. They circled him like vultures wanting their pick of a carcass.

Like bones being picked from flesh, Tamlin felt him coming apart underneath Lucien. The heavy weight of his gaze, the fading, yet still present, running emotions of his nightmare, and the intensity of whatever intimacy this was were crushing him. He closed his eyes, trying to simply will his heart to still.

“I love you,” Tamlin whispered through this privately shared space. As small and quiet the words were, Tamlin felt as though he had shouted them from the top of a roof.

After a seemingly never-ending moment, Lucien whispered back, “I love you. All of you.”

Tamlin didn’t dare open his eyes to see Lucien’s expression, lest he completely fall apart and cry underneath him. He was embarrassed and full of withering shame as it was, he didn’t need to break in front of the male he wanted desperately to love him more than any other in the world.

“I hurt you though.” Tamlin whispered, turning his head. Forcing his eyes open, he blinked at the chest of drawers across from him. Trinkets of all kinds lay over it. Things Lucien had collected and held onto throughout the years. Things that held pieces of his heart. Tamlin knew. Lucien had told him all about them as he had collected them. Given extensive stories, sharing every single detail with sparks in his eyes, a grin on his mouth, and flourishes in his hand gestures.

All the while, Andras sat next to them. Alis propped up on the arm chair of the lounge with tea for everyone. Bron and Hart often sitting cross-legged together on the floor. Tamlin lying across both Andras and Lucien’s laps as the red head recounted his times in whatever Court he had been sent to.

A tear slid from Tamlin’s eye soaking the sheets below him. Aching sat with the shame in his chest. A heavy stone in between his lungs which threatened to choke out his air.

He just wanted to wake up and for all of this to have been some horrible, horrible dream.

A calloused hand with soft fingers cupped his cheek and turned his head, Tamlin screwed his eyes shut, but Lucien murmured softly, “Look at me, Tamlin.”

Tamlin was hesitant to listen, but Lucien stroked gentle circles into his cheek. At first Tamlin had thought what he wanted as a reminder that he was here and alive was violence and hurt. Something to make him suffer, to punish him for all he had done.

As he opened his eyes, to see Lucien’s gentle face, as tears finally spilled down his face. He felt the pang of want for something calmer than rage. Something softer than violence. He didn’t want that. He wasn’t a violent person.

He exploded, it didn’t mean he liked it. He had been taught, honed, to fight all his life. But Tamlin didn’t enjoy or revel in the death of enemies. However, great.

Even Amarantha’s death, however much he hated her with all his heart, had sickened him in so many ways.

“It’ll be okay.” Lucien whispered, “It’ll be okay in the end.”

It sounded like he was saying it to himself as much as he was saying it to Tamlin. The blond stared up at him with tear-lined green eyes. Tamlin slowly moved his hands up, fingers dragging across Lucien’s arms, before, one hand cupped over the dark skin cradling his face, and his other grasped Lucien’s, interlocking their fingers.

“Yeah.” Tamlin forced himself to say, so quietly, any louder and he might break again, “It’ll be okay.”

Lucien’s bottom lip wobbled. Releasing his hands, Tamlin wrapped his arms around the younger’s neck and waist, pulling him down on top of him. Lucien went easily, laying atop the older male. Pressing his nose into the crook of Tamlin’s neck, breathing in his floral scent. Tamlin’s hands moved up and down his back, over his sides. Fingers pressing into the tight muscles, kneading his flesh until the redhead became a puddle above him. Breaths slow and deep, with the odd hitch whenever Tamlin’s hands worked a particularly sensitive spot.

It felt so much better than violence This sweet tenderness, during it Tamlin’s mind simply floated somewhere else. Thinking of nothing else than how else he could bring Lucien as much slow, sweet pleasure as possible. He forgot about the dream, forgot about the violence. Lucien shifted above him, one hand, with his long slender fingers, reached down to grasp his thigh. Gripping the flesh and returning in slight the pleasure he was receiving by rubbing circles into the sensitive skin.

“Can I kiss you?” Lucien murmured sleepily.

Tamlin’s hands stilled, and Lucien’s eyes went suddenly wide. He quickly looked back up at Tamlin’s shocked expression, and the male’s chest started rising and falling faster as he began to panic.

“I didn’t mean to say that outloud.” Lucien whispered. Abruptly, he pulled up, sitting back on his heels, running his hands through his hair, as he tried to smooth himself over.

“Sorry, fuck, I’m sorry, that was stupid.” Lucien shook his head, beginning to slip away from the bed, “I’ll leave, I’m sorry that was so stupid I-”

Tamlin quickly shot up and grabbed his arm, pulling him back onto the bed. Lucien yelped, as he fell back. Tamlin wrapped his arms and legs around Lucien as he slammed their mouths together. Kissing him in desperation.

Lucien seemed utterly shocked for a second, the kiss barely lasted a moment. Tamlin wreathed back, both breathing hard and laying there, processing.

“Lucien-” Tamlin started.

Lucien silenced him with his mouth. A hand going to cup the back of his head, pulling him close. Tamlin gasped, and Lucien slipped his tongue into his mouth. His eyes fell closed as the kiss began to mellow into a slow, lazy dance of tongue and lips.

They laid there, soaking in the silver moonlight. A tangle of limbs as they kissed and rubbed at each other, grinding their bodies slowly, and pressing their hands into the other’s tense limbs. Until they barely knew where one started and the other ended.

It was dizzying, both of them ending up in another place entirely. Feeling like the world was now nothing more than a bubble of their love.

Somewhere in the small moments where Tamlin’s mind came back to him, he managed to promise himself one thing.

One day, one day whether soon or in the future, he would make Lucien Vanserra his husband. And nothing in the whole world was ever going to stop him.

@tamlinweek

#oops we missed this!!#love it!!#acotar #tamcien #tamlin #tamlin week #tamlinweek #tamlin week 2024 #tamlinweek2024 #day 6 #fanfiction #moodboard #tamlin/lucien

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tamlinweek · 10 days

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Tamlin Week Master List: Day 6

Fanfiction

Spring Beast and Silver Queen (Tamlin/Nesta) by @shi-daisy

The Golden Lord in the tower (Tamlin/Lucien) by @umthisistheonlyusernamenottaken

The Sorcery of Slumbering Secrets: His Mortal Mate (Tamlin/Briar) by @booksnwriting (AO3 link)

Last Flowers (Gen Tamlin) by @songofthesibyl (AO3 link)

Colors in a Dead Garden (Tamlin/Rhysand) by @fourteentrout (AO3 link)

How Nesta Archeron Learned to Trap a Beast: The First Day Of The Month (Tamlin/Nesta) by @achaotichuman (AO3 link)

Cinder...Tamlin? (Tamlin/Rhysand) by @duaghterofstories (AO3 link)

aged grey willows deceiving thy sight (Tamlin/Feyre) by @praetorqueenreyna (AO3 link)

How Easy It Is To Worship You (Tamlin/Lucien) by @achaotichuman (AO3 link)

Fanart

ACOLAR Dreams scene (Tamlin/Rhysand) by @copypastus

A Dream of Roses fanart (Tamlin/Briar) by @vivictory-draws

Sapphic dreams (Tamlin/Rhysand) by @taymartiart

Castles Crumbling (Gen Tamlin) by @climbthemountain2020

Twilight AU (Tamlin/Nyx) by @copypastus

Tangled AU (Tamlin/Rhysand) by @balladoffeylin

A Court of Poppies and Dreams (Tamlin/Feyre) by @arson-09

Miscellaneous

The tragic life story of Tamlin (Gen Tamlin) by @szalonykasztan00

In poppy's petals (Gen Tamlin) by @sonics-atelier

Fairy Tale AU through memes (Tamlin/Feyre) by @mathiwrites

Beauty and the Beast in reverse (Gen Tamlin) by @justatouristhere

Tamlin dreams of gardens lush and green (Gen Tamlin) by @sonics-atelier

Tamlin in Love Nikki (Gen Tamlin) by @rin-u-pos

Tamlin Sleeping Beauty AU (Tamlin/Feyre) by @lorcandidlucienwill

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tamlinweek · 10 days

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This is the anon from a few days ago confirming that I did indeed get married yesterday. It was the best day of my life and I'm so happy that I got to share a little of the love with my fellow Tamlin enthusiasts.

AHHHHHHHHHHHH OMG CONGRATS!!! Hooray for the Tamlin Week wedding!!!

#asks #this is SO SWEET!!!#I'M GLAD THE WEDDING WENT WELL THOSE ARE STRESSFUL #sending the best spring vibes your way!!

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tamlinweek · 10 days

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Thank you so much for this amazing event. I am tired, but already missing the fun time! Definitely the best character week on tumblr! Let me tell you, Tamlin fans are DEDICATED! Amazing!

THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR BEAUTIFUL ARTWORK!! Tamlin fans are the best!

#asks #me already planning for tamlin week 2025.....#JK #unless....

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tamlinweek · 10 days

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Thank you for an amazing Tamlin Week!

The most blessed week of the year has come and gone. Tamlin Week is officially over.

Thank you all so, so much for making Tamlin Week amazing! There is no Tamlin Week without you, the Tamlin creators. Thanks to you guys, Tamlin Week received 182 submissions, in the form of fanfiction, fanart, poetry, moodboards, and memes. We are so proud to be part of such a creative, supportive community!

What next?

We're still working on the master lists for the last few days, as well as the MEGA MASTER LIST that will contain all the other master lists. If you do not end up on the correct master list or we still haven't reblogged your content yet, please let us know! We want to make sure that everyone who participated is included!

With this massive outpouring of creation in such a short amount of time, it sure is hard to keep up with it all! Take this time to go through our blog and the master lists and really enjoy all the new Tamlin content! Reblog, reply, kudos, and comment. Making fan content is an act of love, and we want to keep supporting each other! Also, the best way to ensure you get more of the stuff you want is to tell the creator how much you like their stuff!

Real life happens, we get it! If you have anything that you REALLY wanted to make for Tamlin Week that you couldn't finish in time, don't lose hope! As far as we're concerned, every week is Tamlin Week. If you finish your creations, please tag us! We'll be more than happy to reblog and add them to the master lists.

In the next week or so, we'll publish a post-event survey for you guys to fill out. It's a chance to anonymously let us know what worked, what didn't, and how we could improve Tamlin Week for next year.

Thank you all again, and happy spring!

#acotar #tamlin #tamlin week #tamlinweek #tamlin week 2024 #tamlinweek2024

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tamlinweek · 10 days

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Tamlin Week Master List: Day 5

Fanfiction

Family Ties (Gen Tamlin) by @shi-daisy

A marriage of Spring and Autumn (Tamlin/Eris) by @umthisistheonlyusernamenottaken

The body of a High Lord belongs to his court (Tamlin/Lucien/Elain) by @lorcandidlucienwill (AO3 link)

courting the apocalypse (Tamlin/Lucien, Tamlin/Rhysand, Tamlin/Feyre) by @mathiwrites (AO3 link)

lovely and lonely: interim ii (Tamlin/Lucien) by @praetorqueenreyna (AO3 link)

Seeing Red (Tamlin/Feyre) by @songofthesibyl (AO3 link)

Delusional (Tamlin/Reader) by @thelov3lybookworm

Masks (Tamlin & Lucien) by @duaghterofstories (AO3 link)

A Love So Sordid and True (Tamlin/Rhysand's sister) by @booksnwriting (AO3 link)

Marry Me (Tamlin/Lucien) by @achaotichuman (AO3 link)

The Sprite and the Shifter (Tamlin/Female OC) by @thisblogisaboutabook (AO3 link)

The Night We Met (Tamlin/Reader) by @mirandasidefics (AO3 link)

Shapeshifter (Tamlin/Nesta) by @foxcort

Fanart

Puppy face Tamlin (Gen Tamlin) by @szalonykasztan00

Amarantha's death (Tamlin & Amarantha) by @taymartiart

Shapeshifting comic (Tamlin/Rhysand) by @fourteentrout

Tam-cat (plus wormlin) (Gen Tamlin) by @arson-09

Shifting to relax (Tamlin/Lucien) by @goddessofwisdom18

Why were masks part of the curse? (Gen Tamlin) by @copypastus

Beast Tamlin (Gen Tamlin) by @thrumugnyr

Coloring Pages

Beast Tamlin + post-war fic (Tamlin/Lucien/Elain) by @elliemarchetti

Miscellaneous

Baby Tamlin headcanon (Gen Tamlin) by @wingsdippedingold

A solemn parting between friends (Tamlin & Andras) by @rin-u-pos

Dahlias (Gen Tamlin) by @sonics-atelier

Behind the mask (Gen Tamlin) by @sonics-atelier

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tamlinweek · 10 days

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Thank you @tamlinweek !!! Had a blast! The Instagram should be fully updated now, so if I missed anyone's, let me know!!! @ tamlinweekofficial on IG 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

IT'S ALWAYS TAMLIN WEEK IN THIS MANOR!!!

🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹🥀

#thank you!#tamlin #tamlin week #tamlinweek #tamlin week 2024 #tamlinweek2024

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tamlinweek · 10 days

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The Night We Met

Tamlin x Reader- The Night We Met (Song by Lord Huron) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KtlgYxa6BMU

A/N: This is a little late, but oh well. @tamlinweek Tamlin Week prompt-Day 5 Masquerade (April 18th )

Summary: The High Lord of the Spring Court is helping rebuild one of the destroyed villages near his manor when he sees a face he had not seen in nearly 50 years. He reminisces about his past relationship with Reader. How they met and fell in love, and how he lost her when Amarantha placed her curse on his court. Now she’s back, but all he wants to go back to the night they met.

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The High Lord of the Spring Court found himself covered in dirt and debris as he sat in front of a ramshackle cottage. He had been mixing mortar almost all morning to assist the village elder in rebuilding his home. Efforts to restore the Spring Court had been under way for nearly three months. Tamlin had slowly come to terms with the fact that he could no longer run away from the pain that his unresolved trauma had caused so many. He needed to do right by his court, and the best way to do that was to literally rebuild. Starting with the villages that took the most damage during Hybern’s stay in the Spring Court lands.

Wiping the sweat from his brow he glanced up from his work. Across the way from the cottage was the main square. He watched as other villagers were busy installing glass windows into the shop that would sell goods from the local farmers. More residents were arriving every day, returning to their former homes. A wagon caught his attention as it pulled up to the shop. His breath caught in his throat when he recognized the High Fae female at the reigns. Seeing his first love after 50 years had his mind instantly swimming in memories.

His green eyes scanned the crowd of the brightly lit ballroom. It was by no means his first ball, but it was his first masquerade. The golden mask was heavy on his face and he tried not to fidget with it. It had been made special for this occasion, just like so many of the others in the room. He stood in the receiving line with his parents and brothers. Each member of the court’s aristocracy was present, and he was expected to greet every one of them. When one of the older families entered to the hall his heart stopped. The young female was beautiful, and the emerald mask she wore completely took his breath away. When she approached him, he was able to see the gold details. Thin vines with leaves snaked through and surrounded the eyes. The mask was practically the inverse of his own. He quickly looked to his Mother, who mere smiled and nodded. The designs of their respective masks were planned. His green eyes returned to hers and a demure smile graced her soft lips. She introduced herself and her voice reminded him of the most beautiful melodies that his master teachers played on their violins. As she spoke he took in her appearance. The outer tulle shell of her mint green dress was speckled with lace flowers of white, pink, and yellow. Thin sheer material hung low off her shoulders, covering her upper arms. Two thin matching mint green ribbons were tied into bows on her shoulders, holding up the unstructured bodice. She was dressed to stand out from the other females in their age range. While most wore large hoop skirts and tight corsets, her dressed flowed easily in the breeze. She was designed to be the prefect vision of a Spring maiden. All too soon she trailed her Mother down the line, bowing and greeting the remaining members of his family. When the dancing started he couldn’t stop his feet from making their way over to her. Her smile when she agreed to the first dance made his heart flutter. If it would have been deemed proper he would have danced with only her that night. Sadly, the night ended too quickly, and she had left before he could ask to call on her in the weeks to come.

He saw her again a few years later in the village near the manor. He was passing through on his way to his Father’s war camps, the Captain expecting him to arrive within the week to start his enlistment. He had been passing the village’s healing complex when he heard her melodic voice. Shiny (h/c) locks bounced along her shoulders as she laughed alongside some of the younger females. Tamlin had stopped in his tracks. He was hesitant to approach her, but her eyes lit up when their gazes met. Without even a word to her companions she hurried over to him and dragged him by the arm back towards the building and the giggling cluster of females, one of which was her older sister.

Her sister was a century older than the two of them and recently started her training to be an official Spring Court healer. The older female’s smile was gentle and held a bit of mirth as she watched the younger make the introduction. It wasn’t long until she suggested Tamlin accompany the younger on a picnic, claiming that she was needed else where and the food shouldn’t go to waste. His love’s smile was even brighter than before and the pink that dusted her cheeks tugged at his chest. That was the first of many picnics they enjoyed over the next few centuries.

Every chance he had for leave from the camps he made his way to her. Naturally, the two became close, with the beautiful female quickly turning into his best friend. He told her of meeting and befriending Rhysand, the Heir to the Night Court. Tamlin couldn’t help but laugh when she scrunched up her nose as he started to describe the beauty of the heir’s younger Illyrian sister. The female tried to play it off, but her jealousy was too evident. He assured her that the Illyrian female held no sway on his heart. No, he confessed that the one he wanted to spend his days with was seated next to him on the blanket. They shared their first kiss that night.

After his time in the camps, she was a frequent guest at the manor. His Mother had approached him about the prospect of their marriage, alluding to the fact that she would enjoy having little ones running around the home again sooner rather than later. Sadly, his Mother would never get the opportunity to see an accepted marriage proposal or plan a wedding. The High Lord of Night had ended her life before any of that could happen. His own love nearly lost her life that night alongside his family. He knew she was clever and skilled at glamour magic which allowed her to hide herself as Rhysand prowled through the home after his father. This was the night that had changed everything for them.

In his mourning of his family and taking on the position of High Lord he spent less and less time with his love. In wanting to be closer to him, she moved into the Manor at the same time that Lucien escaped from Autumn Court. Using the skills she had learned from her sister, she helped the Autumn male regain his strength. As their friendship grew Tamlin felt like more like a stranger. And then Amarantha came.

His love accompanied Lucien in his attempt to broker peace, her pale cream dress covered in the male’s blood as they both stumbled back over the border. While Lucien had received the more heinous injury, she also didn’t return unscathed. She recounted how she had been held back by her hair as the Hybern General attacked her friend. She pulled and kicked her way out of the Attor’s grip, but not without a sizeable chunk of her hair being ripped from the roots. After that she wore her hair incredibly short and insisted on learning her way around a blade. Tamlin had wanted to keep her safe from that life, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Despite her efforts, she was hesitant in going to the masquerade that was offered in apology. She didn’t want any of them to go, citing that Amarantha could not be trusted. He tried to convince her that everything would be fine. That maintaining peace was of the utmost importance. To take her mind off her concerns he offered to commission a new mask for her. Of course, he didn’t tell her it would be designed to give the impression she was more closely tied to Lucien than to the High Lord of Spring. Tamlin was not naïve to Amarantha’s previous advances. He didn’t want to think of what could happen to his love if General believed she stood in the way. The more perceived distance between them, the safer she would be at this event. But she insisted she didn’t want to be distanced from him, and so wore the mask from the night they first met all those centuries ago. The one that his Mother admitted was specifically designed for her, his future bride. Tamlin could only hope that Amarantha wouldn’t notice their connection. So, his love followed him and his court Under the Mountain. Luckily, she did follow his order to stay close to Lucien. He remembered the way her eyes filled with panicked tears when she realized that the mask wouldn’t come off. He wanted to run across the cavernous hall to her, hold her and whisper his apologies. But he remained rooted to the spot to keep up the ruse that she was not his lover.

The curse strained their relationship even further. Despite his love for the female that had been by his side for centuries, he now could never be with her. In order to save his people, to save her, he would be forced to love for another. The knowledge caused his heart to stop beating. However, she continued to stay by his side. For the first two years she attempted to help comfort him when the sentries wound up dead at the hands of beasts or human males. The conditions of the curse never being fully met. But he pushed her away, and eventually, he had shut her out completely. His heart became stone. Every time she entered a room he would leave, not being able to look upon her face. The mask she wore a cruel reminder of all his failings and all he would never be able to have. He could no longer love her the way that she deserved. After 5 years of being cast aside, she had had enough. She had vanished during the night, leaving a note behind that even to this day he could not bring himself to read.

The memory of the note, still tucked into an old writing desk located in the wing his parents occupied at the Manor, faded as she spoke to the shop owner. Her voice melodic yet with a heaviness that had not been there before. He didn’t know when he had stood up from his hunched over position. Nor knew when he had walked across the road. All he knew was that one moment he was simply gazing at her, and the next she was standing in front of him. Tears lined his eyes as he took in the features of her face. The one he had not fully seen in over half a century. Her gaze met his, tears spilling from her own eyes.

“Hello my love,” Her smile brought a warmth to his heart, and for the first time that stone began to crack. “My Tamlin.”

#tamlin x reader #tamlin fanfiction #fanfiction #tamlin #tamlin week #tamlinweek #tamlin week 2024 #tamlinweek2024 #day 5

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