#pro tamlin going eldritch and turning rhysand inside out

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Thinking about it, and Tamlin's powers are terrifying and have the potential to be world-ending. He can essentially bend reality, via shapeshifting himself, other people, and his environment. And, he can manipulate the very air you breathe, like that's low-key awesome.

That's super eldritch of him.

And these terrifying powers are slept on in-universe.

Shout out to @bookishfeylin and her really awesome Villain! Tamlin oneshot that inspired this post.

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The Death of Night (3-13-23)

"It's over Tamlin." Rhysand sneered at the Lord of Spring, as the Inner Circle stood behind him, ready to back their High Lord if need be. "You've lost, I've won." The Lord of Night smirked. "Although, I must admit, this game was fun." Tamlin didn't rise to the bait, merely staring past Rhysand and at Cassian. None of the Inner Circle knew it yet, but the grounds of Rosehall would be their resting place.

Cassian coughed, finding it hard to breathe. Was the air thin? He could've sworn it hadn't been a moment before... Rhysand was too caught up in his gloating to the air around the Illyrian general was... thinning. He coughed again, a bright splatter of blood coating his palm. Alarmed, he looks up, meeting Tamlin's eyes.

"I'll have to admit Rhysand," The Lord of Spring's voice is measured, quiet. "I do find it...amusing, to be frank."

"Amusing?" Rhysand arches a black brow. "In what way is your defeat amusing?" At that, Tamlin chuckles, the sound eerie.

"Defeat? Rhysand..." Tamlin's eyes are vicious and feral, glowing iridescent with the tempest of the immense power within him. He cocks his head, the gesture unsettling, inhuman. "You've been the unwitting prey this whole time, stumbling into a trap."

Behind Rhysand, Cassian makes a pained cry as he feels his lungs rupture within his body. Blood bubbles out of his mouth, and his heart begins to beat at a manic, frenzied pace, tearing itself apart. The Illyrian general falls to the ground with a thud, blood still seeping out his mouth. Azriel launches himself at the Lord of Spring, dagger raised. The shadow-singer explodes to pieces a moment later, body parts and gore falling to the ground.

"Tamlin!" Rhysand watches as Mor begins to shriek in fear as thorns burst through her skin, blooming into blood-red roses. She collapses to the floor in a heap of bloodied stems and limbs. Amren's eyes flash silver, but the ancient creature is pulverized by the very atmosphere itself, reduced to a bloody smear on the soil.

In a fit of rage Rhysand calls upon the darkness, but before he can act, Tamlin lunges at him, in his beast form, pinning the Lord of Night beneath him. His jaws clamp around Rhysand's throat, and his claws dig deep furrows into Rhysand's chest. Rhysand struggles, as Tamlin rips a bloody hole in his torso, exposing the fae's beating heart.

"You say you are the most powerful High Lord in the history of Prythian," Tamlin's voice is guttural and beastly. "But you bleed the same as any of us." With a single, vicious motion, Tamlin rips Rhysand's heart out, piercing the organ with his claws.

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Not me thinking about an ACOTAR au in which Tamlin, spreads Springtime like a fungus spreads its spores, across Prythian.

Imagine if you will, Feyre and Rhysand, and their Inner Circle enter Spring. It is vastly different from before. Wild, overgrown...and the magic is different, strange, crackling in the air with it's power. It makes everyone uneasy, and the plant life is...sentiment almost.

Despite these signs, they continue deeper into Spring, to Rosehall, to get Tamlin, for the High Lord's meeting.