#ld twou

[acourtofladydeath]

WIP Wednesday: The Wreckage of Us

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!”  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.  “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?”   “You pushed him too hard,” Feyre’s voice was soft, but the words were filled with accusation.  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!”  “You left him first, all those years ago!” They were both screaming now.  “He killed my mother! My sister! You have no idea what that’s like, Feyre.”  “He kidnapped my sisters and gave them to Hybern to experiment on, I think I can understand more than you might want to believe.”  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. 

[acourtofladydeath]

Poly+ SJM Week Day 2 - Climate: TWoU

Written for day 2 of @polysjmweek - 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. Read the fic on AO3, or start with a snippet below.

At first, there were no words. What was there to say, really? What could anyone say? The High Lord of the Spring Court had been found dead a week ago, his body splayed out in a pool of red atop the black and white checkered floor of the art gallery Feyre had left behind. There was no evidence of foul play, only a knife in his hand and a note on the door. An empty bottle of faebane sat abandoned on his bedside table. When he’d heard the news, Rhysand had gone numb. He’d been in his study, sat at his desk with his brothers flanking him as a teary eyed Lucien relayed the news.  When he’d told Feyre, she’d blinked at him twice before collapsing to the floor in a heap of sobs that sounded more like screams. She’d cried for nearly two days—empty, hollow tears that felt like nothing at all. They were just that—tears. Feyre knew it was only just the beginning.  And then the silence set in. Whispers preceded their steps as the couple walked through the River House and continued as they walked past staff and friends alike. Elain had taken Nyx to a separate wing of the house for the time being ,so they could visit but he wasn’t around their parents. Eventually they would have to tell him that Tamlin was dead. Eventually, Nyx would lose the man he’d just come to call father.  At seven years old he was barely old enough to understand the complicated dynamics of his parents. Though he knew they weren’t a normal family, he’d quickly come to love Tamlin. But first Feyre and Rhysand needed to face the reality themselves. They’d barely had five good years as a trio and their newfound comfort had been lost in a few sluggish heartbeats.  They moved around each other, not speaking for a week. Then, one night, the dam that they’d both been building against each other finally broke. 

Finish the fic on AO3.

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