Alright y'all, I'm ON MY HURT/NO COMFORT SHIT AGAIN. Heavy TW for this fic, but it slapped me in the face and demanded to be written. Feytamsand whump is on the way for @polysjmweek day 2 - Climate.
What if Feyre, Tamlin, and Rhysand chose each other? What if they raised Nyx together? And what if the pressure of all that they’d been and everything he’d survived was too much for Tamlin?
What if he stopped living.
And what if his loss is what forces Feyre and Rhys to face truths they’ve been too blind to acknowledge?
Title courtesy of Noah Kahan’s “Halloween”. This fic has one semi-graphic depiction of suicide. It is only a few sentences of the fic, and those sentences are not included in the WIP Wednesday snippet below.
The sarcasm in his voice cut like a knife, his eyes sharp and narrow as they glared at her. It was too much. All of this was too much, and Feyre felt herself snap. She stood too, the robe swishing around her feet as she screamed at her mate. “He left us Rhys! He left our child!”
“And we left him!”Â
Each word hung heavy in the air as they both stared each other down. The space between them could have easily been closed in a few steps, but to Feyre it felt like they were an entire world apart.Â
“What did you want us to do, Feyre?” Rhys’s lips quivered as he said the words, unable to meet Feyre’s gaze any longer. He looked down at the grey plush rug beneath them. “Give up our own Court? Watch him every hour of the day to make sure he didn’t hurt himself? We knew he was struggling, we offered support, we sent assistance. I can’t remember how many priestesses went to counsel him. What more were we supposed to do?” Â
“You pushed him too hard,” Feyre’s voice was soft, but the words were filled with accusation.Â
Rhys threw his hands up in the air, turning away from her before facing her once more. “You’re the one who ruined his Court!”Â
“You left him first, all those years ago!” They were both screaming now.Â
“He killed my mother! My sister! You have no idea what that’s like, Feyre.”Â
“He kidnapped my sisters and gave them to Hybern to experiment on, I think I can understand more than you might want to believe.”Â
The accusations hung heavy in the air between them. Feyre’s chest felt heavy and she breathed in and out, too fast and too deeply. She felt her lips tremble, her legs wobble, and then the hard floor beneath her knees. The sob that tore from her chest was a wild, feral thing. Everything in her screamed wrong, wrong, wrong.Â
