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#precious baby has gone through so much suffering
ijustthinkhesneat · 5 months
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Okay but realistically imagine what Bruce would do when Jason came back.
Chasing this knee criminal who keeps referencing his dead son. Pushing his buttons. How dare he presume to know anything about Jason. The lost light of his life, his baby boy. He can feel that darkness creeping around the edges of his mind. That pit of anger and murderous rage he is scared he will never pull himself out of.
Hearing that robotic voice taunting him about failing Jason, failing to avenge him. He tried, god he tried. He was so close he had the knife against the jokers throat. And then he was being pulled away. Clark stopped him. Told him that he wasn’t acting like himself.
God he loves Clark but he can still feel that small pit of resentment fester whenever he thinks about bleeding that clown.
How dare he say he never loved Jason. He would have given everything to have him back for even a moment. His wealth, his status, Batman, his soul, Gotham itself. There were only three things he would never trade away. His sons. His precious boys. He would destroy himself without a second thought for their happiness. If there was anything he could give, any price he could pay to just see his baby one more time he would do it happily.
Then they are alone. He’s cornered the Red Hood. An abandoned warehouse, a bomb. He should tear him apart where he stands. He dares to make a mockery of his greatest failure? How he failed Jason. His son. His baby. His world. He will make him suffer.
Then the helmet comes off. A young man. Gentle black curls with a shock of white running through them. A domino mask over his face. It can’t be. And the mask comes away. And Bruce sees them. Those beautiful blue eyes that have haunted every sleepless night. Filled with hatred. Swimming with green fury.
But none of it matters. All the anger in Bruce is gone. He tears of the cowl, he has to see, has to see his baby’s face. Jason has a gun leveled at him, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters because Jason is here. He is alive in front of Bruce. Every wish, every regret is washed away in that moment.
Bruce falls to his knees, it’s too much, more than a wretched creature like him deserves. Jason is stunned. His hand shakes slightly. He moves forward, places the gun against Bruce’s temple and still there is no fear, just wonder and adoration in Bruce’s eyes.
“Is it you Jaylad? Please this has to be a dream, please let this be real.” Jason is shocked he expected anger, disappointment, bargaining, but all there is is a father, a broken man looking upon his life’s purpose renewed before his eyes. Bruce reaches up, slowly, reverently, like at any moment Jason will disappear, he takes Jason free hand and holds it against his cheek and then Bruce’s weeps. Not silent tears or stoic crying. He weeps, snotty and red, hiccuping sobs wracking his body. He can only repeat Jason’s name like a prayer.
Jason doesn’t even realize he has dropped the gun. His Dad is caressing his hand, wailing and babbling apologies and platitudes. Jason feels himself sink to his knees. Tears spilling from his own eyes. His Dad still loves him, never stopped, he doesn’t even care that Jason had only a week ago filled a duffel bag with human heads. He is holding onto Jason like he is sacred and he can feel the anger breaking under the desire to be engulfed by his father.
In that moment they both know that no matter what happens, they’ve come home and for the first time in a long time they both feel whole.
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lixzey · 6 months
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Letters
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warnings: child abuse, mentions of blood, starvation and dehydration of a child, locking up a child in a basement/cage, beating up a child, etc.
a/n: PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION ‼️‼️‼️This has very detailed scenes which may not be suitable for everyone. The next six letters will be the same, so heads up!
The Twelfth Letter
Timothée held the twelfth letter in his shaking hands. He wanted to go and just rip the damn letter open, but he was scared—of what he would read in the letter inside the tear-stained envelope. Timothée had an idea about what was written in the letter, making it harder for him. A part of him wanted to know about everything she had been through. But the other part of him was already furious and will not be sorry for what he might do to the people who hurt Y/N based on what he would read.
Timothée sighed, running a hand through his hair before taking a deep breath. He slowly opened the envelope, his fingers running over the adhesive, before pulling out the letter dated August 8th, 2023.
Dear Timothée, 
So, where do I begin?
Can you please, please, promise me that you'll keep this a secret? Swear, this one you'll save?
Okay, okay, so here's the story of my life.
The day I arrived at my aunt's home, I had no idea how my life was going to turn out. At first, she was kind. She made me feel comfortable, like I was her own child. But after two weeks of being in her care, the nightmare started.
I was advised not to go to school for the time being because of the trauma I had gone through. I loved it, honestly. I stayed at home, ate cookies and chips, and watched TV—all that normal kid shit. But one day, when I was sitting in the living room, peacefully watching Baby Loony Tunes, my aunt suddenly grabbed me by the arm, dragged me all the way down to the basement, and threw me against the hard wall. As a little girl, I didn't understand; I was confused. What did I do to deserve this? Was I a bad girl? I had so many questions running through my mind at that time. It turns out that my parents' assets were repossessed by the bank. All the money, jewellery, and house are gone. My aunt only agreed to take me in because of the benefits of it, and once it ran out, she turned into the devil.
She left me in the basement for days without any food or water. And whenever I would cry, she would come down and throw me across the room and tell me to shut up, or she would beat the crap out of me. I was terrified. I hoped and prayed that it was just some sort of nightmare and that my parents would get me out. I spent my nights in that basement curled up in the corner, hugging my knees to my chest and wondering why I was being treated like that, trying as much as possible to sob silently until my body just gave out and I lost consciousness.
It went on for weeks. It got worse and worse each and every day. She treated me like an animal locked up in a cage. I was given, occasionally, mostly scraps and leftovers, and given my situation, I was grateful for that, even if my body was suffering from starvation and dehydraton. At that point, my mind knew what I was: an orphan who no one wanted to take care of. A burden, a waste of space, nothing.
I get beat up almost every day, like the time she lost a pair of earrings. I remember it vividly, like each and every one. She accused me of escaping the basement and stealing her precious jewellery. I told her I didn't; I begged her not to punish me; I begged and begged, but all of it was in vain. I got kicked in the stomach hard until I was spitting out blood. She split my lip, almost knocking out a few teeth. My face got bruised and puffy from all the slaps I got. After she was satisfied by all the blood, she tied me to a pipe in the corner of the room. She left me there for another week without food or water. The blood on my shirt dried on my skin, and every time I moved, it hurt so much that it felt like I was tearing off my skin every time I tried to move. Days later, I was jolted awake when my hair got yanked hard, pulling away from the corner. I was thrown into a cage—a real fucking metal cage—and doused with ice-cold water. The water felt like knives against my skin as I felt the dried, blood-soaked shirt tear away from my body. I screamed and cried as I tried to stay away from the water, like a tiny kitten. I was left in the cold and dark room, naked and curled up in the corner of the metal cage, whimpering as the pain settled throughout my body.
You might be wondering, “Why the hell did no one do something?”
Well, no one could hear me from the basement that was nearly three feet down. Or maybe no one really cared.
The basement didn't have that much stuff—only old books, magazines—which I've read to pass the time before I got thrown into a fucking cage like I was dangerous or what—and a full-sized mirror, where I used to sit in front of and look at my bruises. I often lay there in the dark of the night, fearing monsters like any other kid would. But the real monster was the person I called my 'aunt'. I kept holding on to a dream; maybe that's the one thing that kept me sane in that prison. I had nothing else left, only memories of the past.
During those days, the memories of the past gave me hope. That one day everything will be back to the way it once was, but it never happened—nevertheless, I kept holding on, like I said, because it was the only thing I had left of my past life. But now, the memories of the past haunt me. I keep on trying to leave it all behind, but somehow, life has got it in for me.
I was a kid. A kid who didn't know anything better. A kid who only wanted her parents to protect her from all of the monsters. But instead, I was left to fucking fend for myself in the cruel, cruel world. I didn't know how to cope with it, so all I did was cry. Which made my suffering much, much worse, whenever she heard me. So, as much as possible, I tried to muffle my sobs. Maybe there was a monitor down in the basement, because how the fuck would she hear me from three feet down?
Anyway, that's all for now, I guess.
There's still more, Timmy. I swear, the next years of my life were….I'll just write it down in the next letter.
Always remember that you are the light of my life, alright? The only good thing left in my life, even if you're not mine, is that I love you.
All my love,
Y/N. 
Timothée felt his blood boil. Everything in Y/N's letter was far worse than he had expected. The anger he felt for Y/N's so-called 'aunt' was beyond words. How in hell could someone hurt a child? A ten-year-old child who had just lost her parents in an accident in front of her eyes, for fucks sake! Timothée took a deep breath, folding the letter and placing it back in its envelope before standing and walking to the plane's bathroom. As soon as he locked the door, he buried his face in his hands. He wanted to scream, so badly it hurt. He wanted to hurt someone, and that someone, who was first on his list in red marker, was Y/N's aunt. There was so much that Timothée wanted to do, but right now, he knew he couldn't. And it was making him crazy—crazier by each second, probably. He couldn't understand how Y/N lived through all the suffering. He couldn't understand why life made her suffer at such a young age. He couldn't understand what Y/N did wrong to deserve such misery.
Timothée slowly lifted his head and faced the mirror. Tears were streaming down his face as he realized the feeling of guilt that was eating him alive. Had he received her letters earlier, maybe he could've helped her. Maybe he could've been there for her in some way, making her feel better. But he didn't, because the letters came a year late. Anything could have happened in a year, or even in a month, for that matter. Timothée opened the tap, splashing water all over his face to ease the myriad of feelings that were slowly eating him up. He stared at himself in the mirror. His curls clung to his forehead and neck, water droplets cascading down his pale face, his eyes starting to get puffy and red, and his lips quivering. He sighed, grabbing the individually wrapped, warm towels from the nearby stack and wiping away the remaining water on his face. The warmth made him feel a bit better, though there was still a lingering feeling of guilt in the back of his mind. What was he supposed to do now? He had this sickening feeling about the last six letters. But he wanted to know more and understand each and every ghost of her past that kept on haunting Y/N.
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lewmagoo · 1 year
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dona nobis pacem | rhett abbott
latin: [ˈdona ˈnobis ˈpatʃem], "grant us peace."
description: in which one man's determination to protect his family nearly costs him everything
warnings: 18+ only, angst with a happy ending, whump, plot divergence (i mean, OR has no cohesive plot so does it matter?) mentions of death and murder, violence, blood, brief and nondescript mention of childbirth/fertility issues, physical altercations, stab wound, mentions of hospitals/surgery, rhett's daughter witnesses him getting hurt (necessary warning), talk of trauma, please let me know if i missed anything
characters: rhett abbott x wife reader, together you have a daughter named belle
notes: this story is quite long, and pretty intense, so read at your own discretion. if you are unfamiliar with the storyline of outer range, this might be a little confusing to you, idk. also, i encourage you to listen to dona nobis pacem 1 by max richter while reading this.
Rhett Abbott was a fool to think he could keep his family safe. 
He never wanted any of it to touch you. The mess his brother had caused was not meant to sully you. It was all he was certain of, in a moment otherwise full of fear and uncertainty. Whatever happened, this couldn’t touch you. You couldn’t know. 
But how could he ever think he was capable of protecting you? How could he ever think his wife, and his precious baby girl, would not be dragged into this turmoil?
Those were his thoughts, grim as they were, as he lay bleeding out against the front seat of his truck as you begged him not to leave you, pleading with him to hold on just a little longer. 
But as his consciousness faded, much like the quickly setting sun, he knew this was it. Nothing would be the same ever again. Life as you knew it was seconds from spiraling out of control, torn asunder all because of the foolish actions of one man. 
It was never supposed to end like this. But as his eyes drifted shut of their own accord, he was powerless to stop it. Rhett had fought so hard not to lose his family, but he’d neglected to take into account that his family was going to lose him. 
He should’ve known it was all going to fall apart the night he came home, Perry in tow, clothing stained with another man’s blood. They were quiet as they crept into the house, but not quiet enough, because you were pulled out of your fitful slumber by the headlights of a truck shining through the window, and the whir of an engine. 
You knew it was your husband. Rhett had gone out that night with Perry. He usually didn’t, preferring to spend the evening with you and your five-year-old daughter, Belle. But he’d been struggling as of late. His bad shoulder was bothering him. The one he’d injured countless times throughout the course of his rodeo career. And though he didn’t verbally express it, you knew the pain was nearly unbearable for him. He favored the shoulder often, and sometimes struggled to lift things. But he was too stubborn to ask for help, so he suffered in silence. 
When his pain grew to overwhelming magnitudes, he would pop some painkillers and nurse a beer or two, just to take the edge off. That was why you weren’t surprised that he’d gone out with Perry to their favorite bar.
He had slipped into your bedroom just as you were putting Belle to bed, kissing you both on the head and informing you that he’d be home later. 
“Be careful,” you told him. 
“I will. Luh’ you.”
Now he was standing in the middle of the kitchen, hands trembling with an anxiety he’d never known. He should have heeded your warning. Be careful. But it had all happened so fast. One moment he’d gone to bring the truck around, and the next, he was watching his brother standing over the lifeless body of Trevor Tillerson. 
Panic had seized him. What were they going to do? This was murder they were dealing with. Not some petty crime. Perry had finally let that blinding, unhinged temper possess him like a horrifying demon, and he’d killed someone. Snuffed out a life just like that. 
Rhett’s first reaction was to help his brother, as he always did. He couldn’t just leave him to deal with it by himself. But the moment he asked, “what do you want to do?” He should have known that it was going to change everything. There was no coming back from this. 
Foolishly, he thought it noble to protect his brother. But why on earth should he expect that same protection in return? Perry was so muddled in his own mind that he was going to drag everyone down with him. Even if it resulted in a young father being taken away from his family. 
Rhett considered this as he drove home with a body in the back of his truck, blood soaking the bed. His chest was tight, and his mind was spiraling. He had a wife and a child at home, for God’s sake. How could he be so foolish as to aid and abet his brother? 
And more importantly, how could he protect you from all of it? 
But he knew it was futile when saw you as he pulled the truck onto the Abbott property. You were at your bedroom window, peering out because the truck pulling in had awakened you. 
His stomach sank with dread as he pulled the Sierra into the barn. He knew it was only a matter of minutes before you came down to see what was going on. And how could he keep this a secret? You would find out, because he could never keep things from you. He told you everything, and couldn’t even attempt to lie to you, because you always knew when he was. And he had pledged to you on your wedding day that he would always be truthful to you. 
Even if that honesty threatened the very foundation of your lives. 
It took everything in him not to double over and retch once he jumped out of the truck. He focused on taking deep breaths as he walked around to the truck bed, terrified to look at the body of Trevor Tillerson, because that would make it all too real. 
“What are we gon’ do, man?” He asked his brother. “You got us into this mess. What the fuck are we supposed to do now?”
Perry’s eyes, soft and dark like a goddamned calf’s, blinked slowly at Rhett. The younger Abbott grunted in frustration and stepped forward to say something else to get a response out of Perry, but he stopped. 
The sound of footsteps made them both freeze. They shared a look of pure terror. Moments later, their father appeared in the doorway, idling there for a moment as he eyed his sons. Both boys held their breath as he approached, wondering what he’d say, what he’d do. 
His boots crunched against hay and rubble. One step. Two step. Three step. Then he reached the truck, and his face remained stoic as he took in the sight before him. 
Royal looked at the body, and then back up at his boys. His jaw tightened. His eyes were bleak. Then he took a deep breath, seemingly about to speak, when suddenly, a voice Rhett knew all too well called out into the cool night air. 
“What’s going on?”
Your husband’s eyes darted to you, standing in the doorway of the barn, and he looked like a deer caught in the headlights. But it was the raw terror in those sky blues of his that made your heart drop to your stomach. 
He stepped toward you, holding out his arm. “Baby, don’t—” 
But you were already rushing forward, wanting an answer to your question. Rhett caught you before you could look into the truck, his hands firmly holding your shoulders. “Stop,” he said, voice low, desperate. 
“Rhett, what—”
“Don’t want you seein’ it. It’s not for your eyes.” He was adamant. He didn’t want you to have to live with the sight of death. 
You grabbed his forearms, holding on tight. “Tell me what happened.” 
His chest heaved. He opened his mouth to speak, but Royal placed a hand on his shoulder. “In the house.”
Rhett simply clamped his mouth shut and nodded. His hand found your own, and he squeezed tight, though there was a tremor in his grip. The sickening buzz of anxiety hummed in your chest as you followed Royal back to the house, your hand still clasped in your husband’s. 
Someone was dead. You just knew it, that was the only thing you could think of that would result in this much upheaval. And the more you considered it, the more dread welled up within you. 
You had so many questions. Your mind was reeling. What did this mean for your family? Whatever was about to happen would change the trajectory of life as you knew it. And the entire walk to the house, all you could think of was your daughter, and how this would affect her. 
When you all made it to the house, you ended up in the kitchen. Rhett leaned back against the counter, eyes ahead, darkened with fear and anxiety. You stood beside him, body leaning into his. His breathing was rushed. In all the time you’d known him, you’d never seen him like this. He was always so steady, your anchor in a time of storm. 
Now he was the one in the midst of a storm. 
“Trevor Tillerson’s dead.” It was Perry who revealed the truth. “He…he made a comment about Rebecca, and I-I-I lost control. Next thing I knew he was on the ground, not breathin’.” 
You stared at him. Long and hard. Royal said something, but you couldn’t hear it over the rush of blood in your ears. This was all Perry’s fault? And he’d pulled your husband down into the miry clay alongside him? 
“Do you just have no thought for how your actions affect others?” You spoke up, tone dripping with venom. Heat was blossoming in your chest. The early signs of a rage that would not easily be contained. 
“It happened so fast,” he weakly defended. 
“I don’t care! You didn’t once stop to consider your daughter?! Or your brother? Or his child?!” Your voice was growing louder. 
“Alright, enough,” Royal interjected, holding a hand out toward you. “We’re not wakin’ the whole house over this.” He snatched the phone off the wall, seemingly ready to call the sheriff. 
Rhett sucked in a sharp breath as he watched his father pace. He was waiting for his signal, waiting to follow his lead. He had to know what to do. Right? 
“His brothers know?” Royal asked, voice tight. 
“No. They were trashed,” Rhett answered. “W-we thought, if we brought him back to his place, he’d have a better chance of—”
“Then why is he here, goddammit?!” His father hissed, jaw clenching. 
You waited with bated breath. There was no quick and easy way out of this situation. Your husband was likely going to jail, unless Royal pulled a magic solution out of his ass in the next few minutes. 
Then, suddenly, “alright, let’s fix this.” He slammed the phone back down onto the cradle, stepping over to Perry and tugging him out of his seat. 
Beside you, Rhett tensed.
“You’re not calling the sheriff?” Perry asked in disbelief. “Look, I fucked up, okay? Don’t make this your problem.”
“We dial that phone, both of you go to jail. Not just you! You get that, right?”
Your stomach turned at your father-in-law's words. He was right. Perry was going to drag himself and his brother down into a pit in which they would never be able to claw their way back up from. The thought filled you with a rage you couldn’t begin to describe. How could he have been so foolish? 
You didn’t even realize you were stepping toward him until Rhett gently caught your arm. He knew what you were about to do before you did. “Don’t.” Pleading. Serious. Your eyes locked with his, and you nodded, reeling yourself back in. 
Deep breaths. In and out. 
Your vision cleared as Royal moved on, instructing both boys to remove their bloodied shirts. “Me and your brother are gonna figure this out,” he said. “Go upstairs and to Amy.” Then he pointed at you. “You go back up to Belle.”
And then he was pulling Rhett after him, and you were stricken with an ice cold shock of fear, instinctually reaching out to grab your husband’s arm. 
He stopped, glancing back at you with an anguish you could not bear to look at. “We’ll figure it out. Go be with Belle.” He pressed his forehead to yours, only to pull away seconds later when Royal sharply whispered his name. 
You watched him grab a hoodie off the peg by the door, and then he stumbled out into the night, and your chest ached with an agony you had never felt before.
What did this mean for your family? Rhett was an accessory to murder. There was no way he would get off scot-free from this. This was going to turn your lives upside down. But above all, it was going to turn your young daughter’s life upside down. 
Perry’s footsteps were what tore your gaze away from Rhett’s retreating form. Your brother-in-law made his way toward the steps, but you caught his arm as he passed you. 
He wouldn’t make eye contact with you, and it sent scorching fire through you. “Look at me,” you hissed through gritted teeth. Your grip tightened on his bicep as his guilt-ridden eyes met yours. “Don’t you dare let my husband take the fall for this, Perry.”
“I-I won’t,” he responded. 
“Swear to me.”
“I swear.”
But whether or not he would make good on that promise remained to be seen. Letting out a breath, you released his arm, and let him ascend the creaky steps to the second floor. 
You closed your eyes, still reeling from what had taken place. How were you just expected to go back upstairs to your daughter when her father was in the process of disposing of a body? 
The thought sent a wave of nausea through you, and you shuddered, pushing the feeling aside. It was best that you went back upstairs before Belle woke up and realized you were gone. So up you went, slipping back into your bedroom, where your daughter still slept soundly. If only you could remain as undisturbed and peaceful as her. Something told you that there would be many sleepless nights ahead for you now. 
Out in the dark of the Wyoming night, Rhett dutifully followed his father, his mind racing as he pulled his hoodie over his naked torso. He had no idea what Royal had planned. He wasn’t even sure if it was a good idea to follow that plan.
“Look, there ain’t a clean way around this,” the Abbott patriarch explained, his walk determined. “Your brother’s been through enough. There’s not a chance in hell I’m lettin’ Amy lose her dad, too. You agree?”
But Rhett recoiled like he’d been slapped. “But what’s that mean for me? For my family? I’m just supposed to take the fall for his fuck-up, and my wife and daughter lose me?”
Royal stopped abruptly, gaze hard as he stepped into his son’s space. “Nobody’s losing anybody, alright?” He gritted, chest heaving. 
“So what are we gon’ do?” Rhett asked, voice wavering. His limbs burned from the anxiety coursing through him. Was he going to lose everything, because of one foolish decision? 
“C’mon,” Royal simply said. 
Inside the house, you’d just slipped into bed, when you saw another set of headlights shine through your window for a second time that night. 
Panic seized you, and you sat up, swinging your legs over the bed and padding over to the window. Your heart sank like a stone in your chest, the weight of dread pulling it down. 
It was the Tillersons. Luke and Billy jumped out of the truck, and you stumbled back from the window so they wouldn’t see you. Wordlessly, you hurried across the bedroom, but you didn’t even make it into the hall before the loud, incessant pounding of a fist on the front door made you freeze in your tracks. 
The pounding grew louder, and behind you, you heard a soft whimper come from your daughter, who’d been asleep in her bed, but was now awakened by the noise. 
“Mama?” She called out. 
Cursing under your breath, you turned on your heel, creeping back into the room. “It’s okay. Try to go back to sleep, okay? It’s just someone here to talk to Uncle Perry.” You soothed her by running your hand over the top of her head. The pounding made you both jump again. Her fearful eyes met yours in the dark. “I want you to stay here. Don’t come out of this bedroom until either me or Daddy comes in. Understand?”
“Okay,” she whispered. 
You kissed her forehead and then you slipped away, closing the door behind you. When you made it to the steps, you caught sight of Perry creeping toward the door. 
His hesitation filled you with an anger you could barely contain. You were quick to scramble down the steps, light on your feet. “Answer it, or I will,” you spoke out. 
“What the hell do I say to ‘em?” He hissed, eyes slightly wild. 
You threw your hands up. “I don’t know! This is your mess! Get yourself out of it!”
As he moved to answer the door, you slipped into the kitchen, gazing out into the night, your heart thudding erratically against your chest. You searched for any sign of Rhett, hoping he was out of sight. There was no telling what would happen if the Tillersons got ahold of him. 
But then your ears tuned into what Perry was saying to Luke and Billy, and your eyes moved from the window to the door. You couldn’t see the boys, but you could see your brother-in-law, leaning against the door. His hand was against the opposite wall, fingers flipping the light switch that controlled the barn lights. S.O.S. 
“Where’s Rhett?” 
Your chest tightened at the mention of your husband’s name. You waited for Perry’s reply, and for a terrifying second, you were certain he was going to throw his brother to the wolves. And essentially, he did. 
“I don’t know.”
Your eyes went wide, and you almost lurched forward to intervene, but you thought better of it. It might cause the situation to escalate. But if Perry didn’t protect his brother like he was supposed to, you were going to have no choice but to step in. 
But then you saw a shadow out of the corner of your eye. And when you looked back out the window, you spotted Rhett, creeping low in the darkness, quick on his feet as he made a beeline for the back door, out of sight of the Tillerson boys. 
Acting instantaneously, you quietly rushed to the door, reaching it just as Rhett crept onto the porch. He caught your eye through the screen, and you held your hand up, signaling him to wait. The door had loud, squeaky hinges that would surely alert the men that someone was coming into the house. 
So Rhett waited. Both of you did, unmoving, as you listened to the exchange. Then, suddenly, they were storming off the porch, and Perry was running after them, lying right through his teeth as he tried desperately to keep them away from the barn. 
You took that as the opportunity to pull Rhett into the house, right into the shadows. His breathing was rushed, his chest heaving. When you took his hands in your own, they were trembling. 
“Shh,” you soothed, leaning into him, crowding his space. He needed to calm down before you even attempted to ask him any questions. 
His eyes drifted shut, and he focused on the feeling of your body pressed into his, grounding him. When he opened his eyes again, he found you still looking at him. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “We shouldn’t have brought this mess home. I…I didn’t know what else to do. Perry wouldn’t fuckin’ tell me anything. Just sat there staring straight ahead. So I panicked.”
“No, you shouldn’t have been in this situation in the first place. But what’s done is done. What is your dad going to do?”
“He said he’d take care of the body. I don’t know what he meant by it. He took off with his horse toward the west pasture. Told me to go back inside.”
“So Luke and Billy won’t find anything?”
“I don’t think so, no.”
“Not unless your brother fucks up and opens his mouth when he shouldn’t,” you hissed through your teeth, shaking your head. “How could he do this to us? To you? Doesn’t he realize what’s at stake?” 
“He wasn’t thinking,” Rhett tried to reason. But even he knew it was futile. 
“He’s never thinking!” Came your bitter, whispered exclamation. “He’s out of control. And I’m not going to let his stupidity tear my family apart.”
Your husband locked eyes with you, and even in the darkness, you could see how deeply this had shaken him. But there was also a burning determination in that cool blue. “I’m not going to let anythin’ happen to us, you hear me? No matter how bad this gets, none of it will touch Belle. I’ll protect that baby with everything in me.”
You knew he would. He was fiercely protective of his child. Not only for the fact that she was his flesh and blood, but also for all you’d gone through to have her in your lives. Her birth had not been an easy one, and you’d nearly lost her as a newborn. Five years later, she was healthy and happy as could be. But she was also your only child, because that was all your body could take. And you’d be damned if you let her be sullied by the mess her uncle had just plunged all of you into. 
If Rhett swore to keep that child safe, he would make good on that oath. Even if it cost him his life in the process. 
“I know you will, Rhett. I know,” you assured him. 
He sighed, pulling you close, his large hands cupping your face. “I’m so fuckin’ terrified, baby.”
“Me too,” came your trembling reply. It felt as if you’d just been thrust into the frontlines of battle, completely exposed with no weapon or armor to protect yourself. 
“I’m gon’ follow my dad’s lead on this,” he informed you, “if we do what he says then maybe we’ll be okay.”
You lifted your hands, placing them against his chest, above his racing heart. “If that’s what you think is best, then I’ll stand by you. But I’m telling you right now, if your brother so much as thinks about letting you take the fall for this, so help me God I will fight tooth and nail to take him down.” 
Rhett simply nodded, because he knew you meant what you said. He knew that you only remained civil with his brother so as not to cause a rift in his family. Sometimes it was better to remain silent, even if it pained you to do so. You had no desire to cause strife, because you knew it would negatively affect your daughter. And part of you feared that if you pushed Perry enough, he might snap altogether and forbid Amy from playing with her cousin. You couldn’t do that to your precious girls. They were inseparable, and forcing them apart because you couldn’t remain civil with your brother-in-law was the last thing you wanted to do. 
So you held your tongue. But over the last six years of your marriage, you had watched this family wear your husband down. You knew that it was only a matter of time before you decided that enough was enough. In fact, you already would’ve uprooted your family and moved elsewhere, had it not been for your financial situation. 
You were doing what you could to put money into savings, but it had not been easy. You’d had your eye on a quaint little house not far from the Abbott property, but someone had outbid you, and ever since then, you had been unsuccessful in finding another place you could afford. So, in your in-law’s house, you lived, in Rhett’s old bedroom. 
Your daughter slept in a little bed in the corner of your room. The situation was less than ideal, but it was all you had. Now, however, you thought living in a cardboard box might have been a better option than staying under this roof, where your entire family had just been put in danger. 
Now here you were, shaking with fear and rage in your husband’s arms, wondering how you were going to get through this. Nothing would ever be okay again, you sensed. 
Your private moment in the darkness of the kitchen was interrupted when Perry came back inside. Rhett kept you from blowing up at him with a gentle hand pressed against the back of your neck. A wordless plea to wait. 
But it was only a matter of time before you let that rage bubble to the surface. 
Until then, there were bigger fish to fry. Like the fact that Cecelia had just come downstairs to see what the commotion was. Her boys shared a look, and she let out a huff when they didn’t immediately respond, a hand on her hip. 
“Well? Out with it! What kinda trouble did’ya get yourselves into?”
And that’s how you all found yourselves seated around the kitchen table as rain poured from the sky in buckets outside. Royal had not yet returned from his supposed disposal of Trevor’s body. The wee morning hours had given in to a gray dawn, one that appeared as bleak as the situation you were currently in. 
Cecelia had put a pot of coffee on to brew. Rhett had poured you a cup, made just the way you liked it. You couldn’t stomach a single drink of it, however. You were too anxious to do much of anything. 
The minutes ticked by. You looked at the clock on the wall and you finally decided that if your father-in-law didn’t return within the next ten minutes, you were excusing yourself from the table and going upstairs to get your daughter ready for school, because someone at least had to keep a sense of normalcy in the household. 
But suddenly, the back door flew open, and in walked Royal. Disheveled. Bloody. His shirt mysteriously missing. All four of you stared at him as he stood there in the middle of the entryway. Just when you thought he wasn’t going to say anything, he finally moved forward. 
“Gonna put on a shirt.” And then he was gone. 
You glanced at Rhett. He truly thought it was a good idea to trust his father? You weren’t sure if it was a good idea, only because Royal had been a little…disheveled, as of late. Would he be able to hold it together long enough to see his sons safely through this?
When he returned to the table, wearing clean, dry clothes, you all looked to him in silence, desperate for guidance. Rhett grabbed your hand under the table and squeezed. You squeezed right back. 
The silence drew out for a long time. Too long. Then, Cecelia spoke. 
“What happened to your leg?” She asked, acknowledging the blood, and the limp Royal had sported when walking into the house. 
“Don’t worry about that,” he answered. 
“You’re bleeding,” Rhett added, leaning forward in his seat. 
“I’m fine,” his father insisted. 
“Alright then. Where’s the body?” Perry asked. 
Your gaze snapped to him. Before you could even say a word, Rhett was speaking. “Don’t tell me that. I don’t wanna know that. If this all goes to shit, it’s on me too, pal,” he muttered. 
You tensed beside him. 
“If it does come to that, I’m taking all the blame,” Perry responded. How noble of him. 
“Perry, stop,” Cece firmly interjected, her gaze hard. “We’re all in this.”
“We wouldn’t be if it weren’t for him,” you snapped, tired of remaining silent beside your husband. 
“Can’t change what’s already been done,” your mother-in-law said. “You and I both know that.” Then she looked at her husband. “Royal, look. You tell us everything you think we need to know.”
That prompted a heated discussion in which everyone tried to speak over one another. Demanding answers. Trying to get something out of Royal, who refused to share any more details than necessary. 
It was Rhett who was finally the voice of reason. “If you’re askin’ us to go all in on this, then we gotta be on the same page. I have a family to think about, Dad. I need to know I can keep them safe from all this.”
Royal opened his mouth to reply, but all of the sudden, Amy’s voice startled all of you as she strolled into the kitchen in search of breakfast. “What are you guys talking about?”
You looked at Rhett, and he at you. 
“Amy, can you give us a minute?” Perry asked, voice wavering. 
“I have to eat breakfast before I go to school,” she answered matter-of-factly. 
Her statement prompted you to glance at the clock again, and you abruptly stood from your chair. Your brother-in-law looked at you, brow furrowed. 
“Where are you goin’?” Came his demand.
“To get my child ready for school,” you simply replied, tone sharp as you rose to your feet. 
And just like that, the tense family meeting was adjourned. You walked out of that kitchen, and as the silence met your ears, you found yourself stopping in your tracks at the foot of the steps, anxiety tightening in your chest like a boa constrictor. 
You clamped your hand over your mouth and squeezed your eyes shut, suddenly so overwhelmed you couldn’t take another step. 
How on earth were you going to get through this? You didn’t see how there could possibly be any light at the end of the tunnel. 
But life had to go on. You had a child to care for. So you threw yourself into being her mother, because it was the only thing that kept you from falling apart completely. 
You forced yourself to trudge up the stairs and to your bedroom, where you found Belle already awake, getting into her school clothes. 
“G’morning, baby girl,” you greeted her. “Sorry I wasn’t in here to wake you up.”
She beamed sleepily at you. “It’s okay, Mama. I got up all by myself without you waking me up!” She was very proud of her accomplishment. 
You stepped forward and reached out to cup her little cheek before you leaned down to kiss her head. “Getting to be such a big girl. You finish getting ready. I’ll get your breakfast. Would you like Cheerios?”
She nodded vigorously. “With bananas?” Came her hopeful question.
“Of course. I’ll go get it ready.” As you turned to leave, you took pause to offer her one more instruction. “Don’t forget to brush your teeth. I’ll fix your hair when you come downstairs.”
“Okay Mama,” she happily replied. 
Your heart warmed at her sweetness. That was your girl. She was as easygoing as the day was long. After your initial scare of almost losing her when she was born, you found that she was an incredibly easy baby. She didn’t cry very often. She was always happy. She usually slept through the night. You remembered thinking something had to give. That there was no way a baby could be this low maintenance. 
But she was. And as she grew, her pleasant disposition grew with her. She was so eager to please, and her joy was contagious. That wasn’t to say she was perfect, because she wasn’t, but it was to say that you or your husband couldn’t quite take credit for how good she was. It was simply how she was born. 
She was your pride and joy. And as you walked away from the bedroom, leaving her to get dressed, an intense ache blossomed in your chest. Would the peaceful childhood she’d always known be ripped away from her? 
The thought weighed heavily on your mind as you descended the squeaky old steps, your body on autopilot as you headed back to the kitchen. 
You looked up to find your husband leaning against the counter, his back toward you as he gazed out into the stormy morning. The kitchen was quiet now. Everyone had gone their separate ways, leaving you and Rhett the only souls in the room. 
“Belle awake?” He asked, having heard your footfalls. 
“Yeah,” you replied, already moving to grab the box of generic oat cereal from the cabinet. 
“She know anything about last night?” 
“She woke up when the Tillersons tried to bust the damn door down. But I think she went right back to sleep after that.”
“Good,” he mused with a nod. He turned to watch as you prepared your daughter’s breakfast. A sad, wistful look clouded his eyes. The bitter taste of regret filled his mouth. If only he hadn’t decided to go out with his brother. If only he wasn’t such a coward, turning to alcohol to numb the physical pain he was in. If only he’d decided to just grit his teeth and bear it, and slip into bed beside you the night before, where he belonged. 
But it was too late to go back now. His bed had been made, but not of his own design. Perry had turned down the covers and dragged him under. Now Rhett had no choice but to reap the consequences of another man’s foolish decision. 
His reverie was interrupted by the sound of little feet running down the stairs. He lifted his head just in time to see Belle scurrying into the kitchen, smiling widely up at her father.
“Morning, Daddy!” She exclaimed, rushing toward him. 
Rhett knelt low, opening his arms and allowing her to throw herself into them. “Mornin’, little chick.” He held her tightly to his chest, squeezing his eyes shut and relishing in the precious moment. 
“You’re gonna squish me!” She squealed, giggling wildly. 
He hummed, releasing her from his hold. “Sorry, I just missed ya after you were asleep all night.”
She smiled, lifting her little hands to hold his scruffy cheeks. “I miss you too when I go to sleep.” 
“Alright, c’mon, baby girl. Let’s get some breakfast in you before we end up being late to school.” You got her settled with her bowl of cereal and banana, and as she ate, Rhett sat at the table with her to keep her company. 
You could see the pain in his eyes. He was cherishing every last normal moment he could with her, should everything come crashing down. 
But all too soon, the quiet morning had to come to an end. Rhett glanced at the clock and sighed lowly. “Alright, little chick. It's time we mosey on outta here and get you to school.”
While Belle ran to grab her backpack and coat, Rhett was quick to retrieve his hat off the peg on the wall. He caught you watching him, and he stepped toward you, leaning down to kiss you deeply. 
When you parted, he spoke. “Anyone knocks on the door while I’m gone, don’t answer it.” He kept his voice low so only you could hear. 
“Okay,” you replied, intending to follow his instructions. You were going to be alone in the house for a little while that morning. The thought of having to deal with the Tillersons all by yourself, or worse, the sheriff, was enough to have you wishing you could burrow under your covers and hide forever. 
But that seemed to be what Rhett had in mind. “I know you probably won’t be able to sleep, but try to get some rest. I know ya need it after being kept up all night.” 
You tried. You really did. After Rhett left to take Belle to school, you climbed back into bed and hid yourself from the harsh world outside of the four walls that surrounded you. 
But sleep would not come. Anxiety crept in, and you felt like you were suspended in a pit, invisible fingers clawing at you, ripping your clothing to shreds, pulling at your hair, slicing into your flesh. It was overwhelming, all-consuming, paralyzing. 
It forced you to jump out of bed and busy yourself elsewhere. If only you’d been scheduled at work that day. It might’ve proved to be a better distraction than sitting in an empty house, staring at the clock, waiting for the minutes to tick by until your husband returned. 
It was agonizing. And it went on like that for the next few days. But Royal had instructed everyone to continue on like things were business as usual. You tried your best, but it all weighed heavily on you. The only thing keeping you together was that precious little girl of yours. 
You were adamant about keeping up your normal routine for her. Wake up for school. Breakfast. Out the door, seated in the truck, right between her mama and daddy as he drove you to work and her to school. 
But it wasn’t long before the walls started closing in. Everything came to a screeching, grinding halt when Amy was out hiking on the property and proceeded to stumble upon Trevor Tillerson’s body.
You weren’t home when it happened. It was Saturday, which was the day you always went into town with Rhett and Belle to get breakfast at the quaint little Wabang Diner. Neither of you were in the mood to be upbeat and pretend like everything was fine, but you forced a smile onto your faces and treated it like any ther Saturday so Belle wouldn’t suspect anything. 
Halfway through your breakfast, Rhett’s phone began to vibrate in his pocket. He paused, not one to check his phone during a meal, but pulled it out anyway, just to see who it was. His brows pinched together, and he caught your questioning gaze.
“Perry,” was all he said. 
The bell above the diner door jangled. Your attention shifted to the front of the diner, and your blood ran cold. Rhett saw the look that passed over your face, and he discreetly turned, following your line of sight until he, too, saw who you were looking at.
Deputy Matt was making a beeline toward your table. Your heart quickened in your chest, and you fought to keep your expression neutral. Belle had suddenly started patting your arm, trying to get you to look at the picture she’d drawn with crayon on the paper placemat in front of her. You hardly acknowledged her, too fearful of what was about to happen. 
Matt’s shadow darkened the table, and you and Rhett both looked up at him. Rhett immediately stood up, his back turned to you, in an attempt to keep the attention on him and not you or Belle. 
“Mornin’, Rhett,” Matt greeted, then nodded at you and your daughter. “Mrs. Abbott. Belle.”
“What can I do for ya?” Rhett asked. His shoulders had gone tense. 
“I have a few questions regardin’ Trevor Tillerson, if ya don’t mind.”
Rhett nodded once, and attempted to lead Matt further from the table. Beside you, Belle had forgotten all about her picture. “Why is Deputy Matt talking to Daddy, Mama?” She asked.
“I…I don’t know, baby. Stay right here, okay?” You made sure Belle stayed put before you stood, stepping toward your husband. 
“Where did you go after the fight with Trevor?” Matt was in the process of asking.
Your breath caught in your throat. They knew something. New evidence had come into play. That had to be what it was. Rhett’s phone vibrated in his pocket, and he reached for it, realizing what was happening. You were at his side then, eyeing Matt.
“Rhett, don’t answer that phone,” the deputy warned, holding out a hand. 
People around you had started to quiet down, intrigued by the situation, and you felt all eyes on you as you stood in the middle of that diner. Rhett was frozen, opening and closing his mouth, his mind at a loss for an answer. You had to step in, and fast.
“He was with me,” you spoke up.
Matt glanced at you, confusion creasing his brow. “Amy said he wasn’t home that night.”
She had? Fuck. Either way, you stuck to your guns. “That’s because the two of us snuck off.” 
“...to do what?” 
You raised a brow. “Are you sure you want to know the answer to that?”
Matt narrowed his eyes. “Yes, I do, because it’s pertinent to this case.”
“We were fucking in the barn, Matt. That what you wanted to hear?”
Rhett’s eyes went wide, and you saw his head snap toward you out of the corner of your eye. Matt sputtered, looking to your husband. “Okay, um, is that true then, Rhett?”
Rhett ran his tongue over his teeth, nodding his head. “Yeah. It’s true.”
The deputy let out a sigh. “Alright then. That’s all I needed.”
And then he was gone, leaving you to hurriedly pull Rhett back to your table so everyone would stop staring. You’d surely be the gossip of the entire town, but your family was already under scrutiny as it was, so it really didn’t matter.
“You couldn’t have come up with something a little more creative?” Rhett whispered in your ear.
“I panicked,” you hissed back. “Besides, you weren’t doing anything to help yourself.”
To your relief, it seemed that Belle hadn’t heard any of what you had said. But you were still jarred from the encounter. It made you realize just how serious this situation really was. Your husband was now a prime suspect in a murder he didn’t even commit. And in your heart, you knew that if it came down to it, you would reveal your brother-in-law’s guilt to protect Rhett. You weren’t letting him go down for this.
But that encounter in the diner was just the tip of the iceberg. After that, everything began to spiral out of control. The pressure was building, building, and building, like a whistling teakettle that was about to blow its top and send scalding water everywhere.
Everyone began pointing fingers at your family. Namely your husband. As everything came to a head, he was brought in for questioning. So were you. And so was Perry. You remained stoic as you answered Joy’s questions. You refused to give anything away that wasn’t your carefully rehearsed story, an alibi for Rhett.
Maybe it was foolish of you. Maybe it was the most idiotic thing you’d ever done. But the entire time, all that was going through your mind was your daughter. The child you’d carried in your womb for months. The child you had almost lost. And you knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you had to protect her. 
They say a mother’s love knows no bounds. But they don’t always tell you the harrowing lengths that love will have you willing to go to. If it came down to it, you would sacrifice yourself just to see to it that she was protected, that she was safe, that this never touched her. You would rip your own heart out of your body for her. You would die for her.
Rhett was just as determined to protect her, to keep his family together. His story matched yours, and he maintained his innocence. But it was Perry who nearly fucked it all up. He couldn’t keep it together when faced with a barrage of questions from the sheriff. 
He cast the blame on Rhett. Said he wasn’t actually with you. That he didn’t know where his brother had gone the night Trevor was killed. He froze up, and in a moment of desperation, tried to make himself look like the innocent party. 
“Perry says Rhett wasn’t actually with you that night,” Joy informed you. “Do you know why he would say that?”
Your eyes snapped to hers. “I have no idea why he would say that. He’s lying.”
“Are you sure about that? There are a lot of things that don’t add up here, Mrs. Abbott.”
You held her gaze, your heart pounding within your chest, rage swelling in you. You couldn’t let this happen. Couldn’t let Rhett go down for his brother’s wrongdoing. It was on the tip of your tongue. The confession that would change everything. Perry did it. Perry killed Trevor and tried to blame Rhett.
But before the words could even leave your mouth, the front door of the station slammed open, and in walked Royal with the family lawyer in tow. And then it was over. You were free to go. 
Your body trembled as you walked out of that room. You refused to look at Perry as you did so, because you knew you would lunge for him. Rhett grabbed for you, his hand closing around your arm. He was shaking, too. 
But you said nothing to each other as you walked out into the night. Your breathing quickened. Your chest went tight. There it was again. That pressure. Building. And building. And building. 
And then, Perry said something. You didn’t hear what it was over the blood rushing in your ears, but it set you off nonetheless. Your head snapped up, and you let out a guttural wail, yanking out of your husband’s grasp. 
“How DARE you?!” You cried, and before anyone even realized what was happening, you’d slapped him right across the face. 
Rhett caught you, pulling you back against his chest. Royal stepped between you and Perry, hissing something about keeping it down, and not drawing attention. 
You didn’t care. You couldn’t do this anymore. You couldn’t lose your husband. You couldn’t let your daughter’s father be taken from her. 
“Stop,” Rhett pleaded as you fought against him. He’d pulled you off to the side. You were sobbing. Clawing at his shirt. Begging him to let you go. “Stop!” Finally, it was his gruff tone that silenced you. 
His hands were clutching your arms. His eyes, blue as the Wyoming sky, were pleading. “Not here! Not in front of the fuckin’ police station!” He hissed at you. 
You looked at him, finally, as your tunnel vision cleared. Then you blinked. Once. Twice. And suddenly, you were crumpling into a fit of sobs. “He can’t do that! He can’t betray you like this!”
Rhett was vibrating. He was as angry and hurt as you. It took everything in him to hold it together. He was reeling, unsure of why Perry would so easily let him take the fall for this. But this wasn’t the time or place to go off the rails. 
“I know, baby. I know. We’ll figure it out, alright? Just not here. Let’s go home. Let’s go home to our baby.”
The mention of your daughter brought you back to yourself. He was right. It was nearly her bedtime. She was with her grandmother, but she would be expecting you to tuck her into bed, not Grandma. 
“Okay,” you whispered, relenting. “Okay.”
You let him guide you toward the truck, and as he did, you didn’t miss the way your father-in-law was berating Perry for shifting the blame onto Rhett. “Don’t you dare let him take the fall for this,” he snapped. 
But he was already letting it happen. 
The next few days were difficult, to say the least. It felt like a spool of thread was being unraveled, faster and faster and faster. And there was nothing you could do to stop it. 
Rhett was a mess. He was trying his best to keep it together for you and Belle, but he was struggling. Cecelia was on the verge of falling apart. Royal seemed to be slipping. And Perry? It appeared that he was succumbing to whatever madness lurked in the corners of his mind. 
Your family was falling apart at the seams. And although you’d fought tooth and nail to keep Belle out of it, you knew she sensed something was terribly wrong. There was no way she couldn’t. 
It had begun to manifest in her as a form of separation anxiety. Now, whenever you or Rhett had to leave her, she would begin to cry, pleading to go with you. You weren’t quite sure exactly what had triggered this anxiety in her, but when you gently asked her why she was so afraid to be apart from her parents, she told you that she didn’t know. That she was just scared. That she felt like something bad was going to happen. 
You realized it was likely because she could sense the distress in all the adults around her. Her grandparents were distant. Her uncle was unstable. Her parents were scared. And to a little five-year-old girl, it all seemed so terrifying. 
She’d started having a difficult time in school. She couldn’t focus. She wouldn’t participate during recess, opting to sit beside her teacher the entire time, too unnerved to play with the other kids. Your usually bubbly child had been reduced to a timid, fearful mess. 
It made you want to kill Perry with your bare hands. It got to the point where you could not stand to be in the same room as him. So you avoided him as best as you could. And the entire time, you were at war with yourself, considering putting an end to all of it. You were so tempted to march into Sheriff Joy’s office and tell her everything. 
But you never got the chance. Because the Abbott family wasn’t the only family coming apart at the seams. Perry wasn’t the only older brother on the verge of insanity. 
Luke Tillerson had begun spiraling out of control the moment his brother died. And he was only getting worse. You hadn’t personally encountered him, but you’d heard that he was coming unglued. He firmly believed that Rhett had killed Trevor. And unbeknownst to you, he was on a mission to prove that. 
His obsession with proving Rhett’s guilt gave way to something much more sinister. Finally, it all came to a head one night when he decided he was going to take justice into his own hands. If the sheriff wasn’t competent enough to take care of things, he’d just have to do it himself. 
So, fueled by alcohol, and unhinged rage, Luke decided to target that which was most precious to Rhett Abbott. 
You’d decided to go into town that evening. You couldn’t bear to be under the same roof as Perry, and it was clear that Belle and Amy both needed a change of scenery. So you and Rhett decided to take the girls into Wabang for dinner. If only for an hour or two, you could pretend that life was as it should be, and not about to shatter into a million pieces. 
At the prospect of going out with her parents and cousin, Belle was overjoyed. It was the first time she seemed like her old self in a while, and you cherished every moment of it. 
You went to the diner in town, like you always did. Belle and Amy sat across from you and Rhett, talking and giggling and coloring pictures on their placemats. 
Surely people were whispering about you, but you didn’t care anymore. Neither did Rhett. With the walls closing in, all you wanted was to enjoy one last night of domesticity with your daughter. 
And enjoy it, you did. In fact, it was the best night you’d had ever since the whole mess started. You held your husband’s hand under the table like you did when you were first dating. You watched your daughter laugh with her cousin and your chest ached with love. For a fleeting moment in time, you felt okay. 
But it all came crashing down when you left the diner that night. 
As you strolled out into the evening air, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. You headed right for Rhett’s truck, Amy and Belle holding your hands as you walked. 
But when you reached the vehicle, Rhett stopped, suddenly patting at his pockets. You gave him a questioning look. “What is it?”
With the roll of his eyes, he shook his head. “Think I left my wallet inside.” Then he tossed you the keys so you could start the truck. “Be right back.”
Thinking nothing of it, you turned to continue leading the girls to the truck. 
“I hope nobody stole Daddy’s wallet,” Belle announced, concern in her voice. 
“I’m sure he just left it on the counter,” you assured her, squeezing her shoulder. 
“Yeah, don’t worry, Belle,” Amy echoed, always happy to comfort her cousin. 
You smiled at her efforts, finding it perfectly sweet of her to look out for your daughter the way she did. But that fond smile soon gave way to a frown when you were alerted to another presence nearby. 
You heard a man’s voice behind you, just as you made it to the truck. 
“Look who it is.”
The voice made you stop dead in your tracks, and a chill of dread began to creep down your spine. Slowly, you turned around, only to find Luke Tillerson approaching you. 
He looked worse for wear. You were used to his clean-cut appearance and neatly styled hair. But now, fair blonde stubble lined his jaw. His normally clear eyes were bloodshot. And he appeared to have been drinking. So this was what everyone meant when they said he was on a downward spiral. 
Immediately, you pushed your daughter and niece behind you. “Can I help you, Luke?” You asked, tone sharp. 
Luke hummed. “Yeah. Where’s that man of yours?” 
“Across the street. Why?” 
“I wanna talk to him.”
“Well you’ll have to wait ‘til he comes outside.”
He narrowed his eyes at you, but soon grew distracted at the sight of the two girls behind you. “Hey you two,” he greeted. 
“Hi, Mr. Luke,” Amy responded. 
“Girls, get in the truck,” you spoke up, voice clear and authoritative. You had a sinking feeling that something was about to happen. And you didn’t want the children to witness it. 
Luke locked eyes with you. “Why? You afraid I’m gonna tell them the truth?”
“Get in the truck. Now,” you desperately repeated when they made no move to do so. 
The girls scrambled for the door, scampering up into the truck at your command. But Luke continued, even as they climbed inside. 
“You afraid I’m going to tell little Belle here all about her father being a goddamn murderer?” 
“That’s enough!” You cried, whirling around to face him. Rhett wasn’t a murderer. You wouldn’t stand for such an accusation. 
But he was already out of control. He surged forward, and you took a fearful step back. “Is it?” Then, he leaned in closer. “Your daughter deserves to know the truth! That her daddy killed a man!” He shouted it right at the truck window, where the girls were huddled. 
“Leave us alone!” Came your plea. You were trembling, vibrating with adrenaline and fear all at once. 
At that very moment, Rhett stepped back out of the diner, having found his wallet and tucked it back into the pocket of his jeans. But the sound of raised voices caught his attention. 
His head snapped up, eyes traveling across the street, where the truck was parked. His breathing quickened, heart thudding against his chest. It was not the sound of raised voices that jarred him. It was the sound of your voice, laced with distress. It made the hair at the back of his neck stand on end.
Without a moment of hesitation, he was walking, boots crunching against gravel as he crossed the street, quick as a flash. He couldn’t see you from this vantage point. You were hidden by the other side of the truck. But he knew someone else was with you. 
His feet broke into a run, driving him to your aid. Whoever was bothering you had picked the wrong fucking time to do so. Rhett was seconds away from knocking their teeth out.
When he rounded the truck, he came face to face with Luke Tillerson. You gasped at your husband’s sudden appearance, feeling relief and fear all at once. You knew he’d take care of the problem, but you were afraid of the outcome. 
“What’s goin’ on?” Rhett asked. There was a barely checked edge to his tone. His chest heaved. His eyes darkened. 
“Just the man I wanted to see!” Luke slurred. 
“You bothering my family, Tillerson? Because that’s what it looks like.” 
Luke shrugged, taking a swaying step toward Rhett and pointing over at you. “I was just telling your wife here that your daughter deserves to know the truth about her daddy.”
Rhett’s hands twitched at his sides. His body had gone stiff as a board. “Leave her out of this. She doesn’t know anything.” Rage bubbled beneath the surface. 
You watched him like a hawk, just waiting for his signal. If Luke pushed him any further, it wasn’t going to be pretty. You didn’t want this to escalate, but it seemed unavoidable. 
Rhett moved to step away from the truck, hoping to lead Luke away from his family should anything happen. 
“Lying to your own kid, huh? Wonder what she’ll think of you when she grows up and learns what you did.” 
Just as Rhett was hoping, Luke followed him. “You’re drunk. Go home.”
Luke scoffed. “‘m not that drunk, Abbott. You’re just trying to get me off your trail.”
“You’re scarin’ my girls. So I’m gonna tell you again, go home.”
“No.” Then, the blonde lurched forward, arms shooting out to shove at Rhett. 
Your husband’s eyes locked with yours for the briefest of moments. “Get in the truck,” he gruffed. 
You didn’t stick around to argue. Quickly, you climbed into the passenger side, slamming the door shut firmly behind you. 
“Mama,” Belle whimpered from the backseat. 
You turned around, meeting her tearful gaze as you reached your hand out to touch her cheek. “It’s okay, honey. I want you and Amy to get down on the floor, alright?” You didn’t want them to witness the fight that was sure to ensue. 
Both girls crouched down against the floorboards of the truck, and you turned back around, your eyes fixed on the altercation taking place. 
Rhett wasn’t usually one to start fights, but he could finish them. He’d calmed down considerably since your daughter had come into the world, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t defend himself, and his family, when it came down to it. 
While the girls hunkered down in the backseat, you watched through the window, anxiety thrumming in your chest. The two men were talking in raised voices, growing more and more agitated with each passing second. 
Luke shoved him again, and that was it for Rhett. “Told you not to put your fuckin’ hands on me,” he hissed. He lunged right for the second eldest Tillerson, landing a solid punch to his jaw. 
But Luke could hold his own. He merely stumbled slightly, and then came right back at Rhett. But the right hook he aimed for him was blocked, avoiding its sure blow to Rhett’s face. 
The scuffle escalated, and you clutched the door handle, prepared to step out there if necessary. To do what, you weren’t quite sure. You knew there was no reasoning with either of them in this moment. If you tried to insert yourself between them, you would get hurt. 
Rhett was sober and could hold his own, while Luke was drunk, leaving him less coordinated than usual. You were pretty certain your husband would be the one to end this fight. 
But then you saw it. A glint of silver in the light of the street lamp, and it was as if your entire world had stopped turning on its axis. 
In what seemed like slow motion, Luke surged forward, a hunting knife clutched in his hand. Driven by your need to protect your husband, you cried out, “no matter what, you stay on this floor, and you do not get up!” to the girls. 
Then, you were jumping out of the truck, dashing around to the back, where you knew Rhett kept a tire iron. Hoisting yourself up, ignoring the pain that flashed through your ribs as you slammed against the edge of the truck bed in your haste, you grabbed the large tool and took off running. 
But you were too late. 
Just as you neared the two men, you watched in horror as Luke found a weakness in Rhett, and took advantage of his moment of vulnerability, plunging that knife right into the front of his body. 
Rhett breathed out a strangled grunt as searing pain flashed through his midsection. His eyes flickered down to the knife embedded in his body, then back up to Luke. He knew this was it. He was going to die, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. 
“Tell my brother I said hi,” Luke rasped, trembling with his rage, fully intending to yank that knife away and sink it into Rhett’s heart. But all of the sudden, a brutal, blood-curdling scream ripped through the night air.
“NO!” And then, a resounding, sickening CRACK! Within seconds, Luke Tillerson was on the ground, out cold. 
His knife clattered to the cement, and along with it, Rhett stumbled back, letting out a pained growl, similar to the wail of a wounded animal. Instinctively, his hand came up, pressing over the wound as crimson soaked through his shirt. Shit. There was a lot of blood. More than there should’ve been. 
He locked eyes with you. Then, he stumbled forward, already woozy on his feet. 
You dropped the tire iron with a loud, metallic clash, scrambling to Rhett’s side as he careened forward. “H-he stabbed me,” he gasped in shock. He pulled his hand back to stare at the blood that had stained his skin. “He fuckin’ stabbed me.”
“Let’s get to the truck,” you said, your voice wavering. It took everything in you to keep your panic at bay. 
It proved to be a difficult task with all his weight leaning on you, but somehow, you managed to get him to the vehicle. He leaned against the side as you opened the door, and when you turned to help him into the truck, you realized how pale he’d gotten in just that short amount of time.
Your heart hammered wildly in your chest, and you began to shake as terror ripped through your body. The hospital was an hour away from where you were. How on earth were you going to get him there in time? The amount of blood he was losing was alarming. Surely he would bleed out before you could get him help.
Inside the truck, you could hear the girls crying. Belle was inconsolable as she watched her father struggle to climb up into the seat. 
“Daddy!” She shrieked, frightened out of her mind. 
If you hadn’t been entirely focused on getting your husband into the truck, you would’ve mourned the fact that your daughter had to witness this. But now was not the time. You had to get help. Had to save him. 
You yanked your jacket off, lifting up his shirt before you pressed the coat to his abdomen. “Hold this tightly in place,” you instructed him, placing his hand over it. Then you slammed the door shut and sprinted around the truck, hopping into the driver’s side and starting the engine.
As you gunned it down the road, all you could hear were your daughter’s terrified wails, and Amy tearfully asking you if her uncle was going to be okay. I don’t know. I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know.
Beside you, Rhett was focused on holding the fabric of your jacket over his wound. He squeezed his eyes shut, tears spilling from the corners at the sound of his baby crying. There was nothing he could do to stop it. He’d fought so hard to protect her, and now here he was, bleeding out in front of her, effectively traumatizing her. 
“I’m sorry,” he whimpered, “I’m sorry!” 
You could hardly hear yourself think over the chaos taking place within the truck’s cab. You tried your best to comfort Belle and Amy, even though you could barely keep it together. “I’m taking Daddy to the hospital, okay? The doctors will be able to help him. I need you to take deep breaths for me, baby. Can you do that? In and out, through your nose.”
Fighting to calm your child down in that moment was one of the hardest things you’d ever had to do. You longed to hold her in your arms. To cradle your little girl to your chest, as you’d done when she was a wee babe, and tell her that it was all going to be okay. But you couldn’t. You could only use your voice to comfort her, and it tore you apart. 
Because how could you be of any comfort when the love of your life was bleeding to death beside you, and your daughter and niece had no choice but to watch it? 
And then, Rhett was trying to speak. “I’m s-sorry,” he repeated, head thrown back against the seat. “Baby, I’m sorry. I tr-tried to keep it from her. Tried to keep her safe. I-I failed her. I failed you both. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t!” You cried. “Please. Just save your strength.” You weren’t sure how much of it he had left.
You sped the entire way to the hospital, racing against the clock. Please don’t take my husband from me. Please. Who were you even asking? God? It seemed that He’d turned His back on you. He wouldn’t help you. You were alone. Forsaken. 
That drive to the hospital was the longest forty-five minutes of your life. By the time you skidded to a halt in front of the emergency entrance, Rhett was barely conscious. As you threw the truck into park, you turned back to look at the two frightened little girls in the backseat, holding one another for dear life.
“Stay here. Do not move until I come back out for you, okay?” You sharply instructed. Then you jumped out of the truck, feet pounding against the ground as you dashed into the hospital, throwing yourself through the doors.
There was no way you’d be able to get Rhett out of the truck on your own. You needed help. So you cried out for it. “Help me! Please, my husband was stabbed! He’s going to bleed to death!”
At your desperate pleas, a few orderlies sprang into action, grabbing a stretcher and sprinting outside with it. You followed them, watching as they tugged Rhett out of his seat and placed him on the stretcher. There were voices around you. Shouted commands. Mentions of a dangerous amount of blood loss. 
They whisked him away as you blindly followed after them, watching as your husband was ripped away from you. Is he going to be okay? Is he going to survive? Help him. Help him. Help him!
You didn’t realize you were shouting until a kind, gentle nurse was in your line of sight, cautiously holding onto your trembling shoulders. “We’ve got him, honey. He’s in good hands. We’ll help him as best as we can.”
You looked at her, nodding your head. “O-okay. Okay.”
“Do you have anyone you need to alert? Any family that needs to know about this?”
“My…my, um, in-laws.”
“Alright. Why don’t we just set you up in the waiting area and you can call them and let them know?”
“N-no,” you said, as she tried to lead you away. “My daughter…my niece. I need to…I have to go get them from the car.”
“Do you want me to help you?”
You barely even remembered saying yes, but soon, your girls were at your side, and an orderly had kindly volunteered to park the truck for you. The sweet nurse from before, whose name was Angela, led you to a quiet corner of the waiting area and informed you that she’d be nearby in case you needed anything. 
As soon as you sat down, Belle was grabbing at you, tearfully begging to sit in your lap. She was what brought you back from the precipice of hysteria. Your baby needed you to take care of her. So you shifted into that nurturing mode, focused solely on protecting and providing for her. 
You called Cecelia while you sat there, informing her of what had happened. Beside herself with emotion, she assured you that she would be there as quickly as she could, with Royal and Perry in tow. 
And then you sat there. And sat. And sat. Belle remained huddled against your chest, her arms around your neck. Amy burrowed into your side. And you held them both, comforting these poor little ones who had just experienced so much trauma. 
Everything had changed in a split second. One man’s decision had led you to this very moment. The moment in which you held part of your entire world in your arms, while the other half lay bleeding out on an operating table as doctors tried to save him.
You would learn that the knife Luke had stabbed Rhett with had gone deep enough to cause an internal bleed, and some organ damage. Surgery was necessary to repair it. He’d lost a lot of blood. Too much blood. He needed a transfusion, or he would not survive.
The girls were right there with you when the doctor told you all of this. Belle started weeping against your chest. Amy tugged at your arm, her owlish eyes fearful. “Is Uncle Rhett going to be okay?”
You lovingly stroked her cheek with your hand. “The doctors are doing everything they can for him.” But you didn’t know if your husband would pull through.
You had no time to dwell on it, because that was the moment that Royal, Cecelia, and Perry walked into the room. At the sight of her father, Amy sprang from your side and ran to him, falling into his arms as she hugged him tightly. 
You stood, still holding Belle in your arms as you stepped toward your family. Cece reached for you, placing a hand on your back. “Honey, I’m so sorry.” Her eyes were glimmering with unshed tears. She was barely holding it together. 
“They know anything yet?” Royal spoke up. 
You began to relay the information the doctor had given you, your voice wavering with emotion and exhaustion. You were at your wit's end. It was all catching up to you. The stress you’d been under. The constant scrutiny your family had been subjected to. The suffering your own child had just endured, after all you’d done to protect her.
And that was what did you in. 
Perry asked a question. “Do they think he’s gon’ pull through?”
You locked eyes with him. He stood there, and he had the nerve to look like he was about to cry. Wide, dark eyes shimmering under the fluorescent lights. And you snapped. Without a word, you set Belle down, sending her to her grandma. Then you looked at Cece. “Take her to get a snack, please,” you instructed, eerily calm. You weren’t going to subject your daughter to any more trauma.
“I don’t think–”
“Take her,” you pressed. 
Your mother-in-law clamped her mouth shut and nodded before she gathered up Belle and Amy and led them out of the room.
Then, you turned back to Perry.
“You did this,” you growled, jabbing your finger in his face. “My husband is dying. My child is traumatized. And it’s all BECAUSE OF YOU!”
You were blinded by a rage you had never known. A burning, churning, all-consuming rage. Red clouded your vision. And you lost yourself. You lunged at him, wailing with your own kind of agony as you tried to hurt him the way he’d hurt your family. 
You landed a jarring punch to his nose before someone caught you from behind and yanked you back, even as you fought wildly against their hold. Perry stumbled back, clutching his nose as blood gushed through the spaces between his fingers. You vaguely registered Royal as the one who held you.
“Enough!” He hissed in your ear. You were drawing the attention of the hospital staff. 
“You broke my fuckin’ nose!” Perry exclaimed through his hands. 
“That’s what you get! He shouldn’t be allowed to get away with this!”
It took Royal shaking you roughly to finally shut you up. “I said ENOUGH!”
You’d never heard him yell before. But it silenced you immediately. Your vision cleared, and you finally looked into his face. 
“You need to control yourself,” he lowly commanded you. 
“Don’t you dare speak to me about controlling myself. The reason we are in this mess is because he,” you jammed your finger in Perry’s direction, “couldn’t control himself.”
“You causing a scene in the middle of the fuckin’ hospital ain’t any better!”
“Is there a problem here?” A member of the hospital security team had finally stepped into the room.
“No,” Royal gruffly spoke up.
The guard looked at Perry. “You should probably seek medical attention, sir.”
“I’m fine,” he snapped.
“You sure?” The man reiterated. Then, “I can get the cops involved if need be. Or are we going to behave like civil adults from now on?”
“We’re fine,” Royal insisted. “Sorry to disturb the peace. Won’t happen again.”
“Better not.” Then he walked away, leaving the three of you alone in the waiting room. 
You stared at Perry, your chest heaving. “Perry, either you confess for what you did, or I’ll do it for you. I’m done playing this game, trying to protect a man who doesn’t deserve protection.” You crowded his space again. “And if Rhett dies, there will be no place safe in heaven and earth for you. I’ll put you in the goddamn ground.”
An eye for an eye, after all. 
Then you walked away, holding back the bitter tears that had begun to blur your vision. The adrenaline was wearing off. Your fist was throbbing from the punch you’d thrown. It would likely be swollen after the fact. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore, except your daughter and your husband. And at the rate you were going, you might only have one of them left. 
You stumbled into the nearest bathroom, careening forward as your hands shot out to grip the sink. You bowed your head, letting out a broken sob. You were spiraling out of control. Your life was falling apart. You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. The tears had begun to flow and you couldn’t stop them. 
But you couldn’t lose it now. Not when Belle was depending on you. So you simply turned on the faucet and splashed cool water on your face, swallowing your sobs before you dried your face. When you exited the bathroom, you found that Cecelia had brought the girls back to the waiting area, their snacks in hand. Perry was nowhere to be found. Likely taking care of his broken nose.
When Belle saw you, she ran to you, and you took her into your arms again. As you took a seat on one of the uncomfortable vinyl chairs, she turned to show you what her grandmother had bought her from the vending machine.
“I got Goldfish,” she softly informed you. Even in the midst of a frightening situation, her childlike wonder still showed. She was only five, after all.
You tried to smile at her as you reached up to touch her round cheek. “They look yummy, baby.”
She sat in your lap and munched on her snack. It proved to be a welcome distraction for her. But she didn’t want to be separated from you. Even when Cece pulled out a small notebook from her purse and set it out for Amy to draw on. Belle loved drawing, but she refused to leave your arms to join her cousin.
So you held her, allowing her to stay close to you, because you needed this just as much as she did. 
And then the doctor walked into the room. Royal stood immediately. You leaned forward in your seat, your heart quickening in your chest. The doctor’s expression was unreadable. What was he going to say? Was your husband gone?
Please, no. No, no, no.
But then, hope. “There was considerable damage, and a lot of bleeding. But we managed to get it under control. He’s stable now, but he’s not awake yet. It’ll probably take him a bit to come out of it. This kind of trauma takes a lot out of a person.”
“So y-you’re saying that–” You started, but couldn’t get the words out.
“As far as I can tell, your husband is going to be fine, Mrs. Abbott,” the doctor assured you.
Immediately, you fell into a fit of sobs. You held Belle tightly to you, and you cried, rocking your baby back and forth. “Daddy’s going to be okay. He’s going to be just fine,” you told her. She cried with you.
A little while later, you were permitted to see him. Maybe it was selfish of you, but you longed for it to only be you and your daughter to be the ones to greet him first, and no one else. But thankfully, Cecelia sensed that, and she gently said, “you go. We’ll come in and see him when you’re ready.”
You squeezed the hand she’d placed against your arm, and then slipped away, Belle in tow. As you walked to the room they’d placed Rhett in, a tremor ran through your body. You weren’t sure if you were prepared for what you were about to walk into. But you squared your shoulders and walked into that room anyway.
There was your husband, that strong, steady, immovable force of a man, laid out in a hospital bed, vulnerable and weak. You were overcome with emotion, and it welled up within you, threatening to spill forth like a waterfall. You couldn’t believe you even had any tears left to cry. 
“My girls,” Rhett murmured, attempting a sleepy smile as you approached. 
“Daddy!” Belle exclaimed, pulling out of your grasp and rushing toward her father. 
“Be careful, baby,” you warned her so she wouldn’t jump on top of him. 
But she was very gentle with him. She reached out a little hand and closed it around his fingers. “That was so scary,” she whispered. 
His cerulean eyes welled with tears. “I know. I’m sorry you had to see me like that, little chick.”
You reached for him, taking hold of his free hand. “I thought…I thought I was going to lose you,” you whimpered. You ran your fingers through his hair, brushing it away from his forehead. 
Now his bottom lip had begun to quiver, and he squeezed your hand. “I’m sorry.”
You didn’t say anything in reply. You couldn’t, because you were too verklempt to do so. You sank into the chair beside his bed, still clutching his hand, and you cried. As did he. Belle scurried around to your side of the bed, squeezing her way between you. So you held your daughter, and you wept. 
You wept for the trauma that she had endured. You wept for the harm that had been inflicted upon your husband. And he wept for you, and for his child. He had tried so hard to keep it all away from her, but his failure was evident, and it broke him. He could not protect his family. He never could.
No words were exchanged after your tears slowed. Nothing could express the magnitude of what you were feeling, so you said nothing. Instead, you sat in that hospital room, and you cherished this intimate moment between you and the two loves of your very life, as painful as it was. 
You didn’t know what the future held after this moment. You didn’t know what awaited you beyond the four walls of this hospital room. So you drank in the rare moment of peace before the floodgates opened and all hell broke loose.
All too soon, that moment of serenity was broken by a gentle knock at the door. You turned to see Royal, Cece, and Amy in the doorway. Reluctantly, you motioned them into the room. It wasn’t right for you to keep them away from him. But you knew if Perry so much as attempted to set foot in the room, you would forbid him from doing so. 
You couldn’t bear to look at him, not after he was the reason your husband was laid up in this hospital bed. You would protect Rhett with every fiber of your being, and if that meant barring his own brother from seeing him, then so be it. 
But unbeknownst to you, Perry had left the hospital grounds, and was already headed for Wabang. There was a piece of paper thrown haphazardly onto the passenger seat of his truck. A sheet of stationary with the hospital logo. 
And on that sheet of paper was a confession. Written in detail, describing everything that had happened the night Trevor was murdered. In that letter, embellished as it may have been, it absolved your husband of all guilt, save for him landing a few punches. 
I’m the one who killed him. His blood is on my hands, and mine alone. 
He was going to leave the letter for Sheriff Joy, and then wait it out. 
He knew if he would have simply manned up and taken responsibility for his wrongdoing in the first place, none of this would have happened. His brother wouldn’t have been gravely injured. His family wouldn’t have been torn apart. 
He was a fool. And he was reaping the consequences of that foolishness. But it was too little too late to fix it now. And somehow, in his heart of hearts, he knew that. Knew that even this confession would not fix the mess he’d made. There was only one solution he could come up with in his muddled, unstable mind that would even come close to repairing the damage that had been done. He just wasn’t sure if he had the courage to do it.
Back at the hospital, the time had come to head home. Rhett desperately needed his rest, it was evident in the way he could hardly keep his eyes open, or barely lift his hands from where they lay at his sides. 
His body had been put through the wringer, and his recovery would not be easy. It would be slow and painful. He wasn’t sure if he had the strength to get through it. 
“Alright, I think it’s time we head home,” Cecelia finally said, squeezing Amy’s shoulders. “Uncle Rhett is exhausted. He needs his rest.”
“But I wanna stay,” the little girl protested. “Please, Grandma?”
“No ma’am. We’ll come see him another day. I promise. Now let’s go.”
Reluctantly, she took her jacket from her grandmother’s hands and shrugged into it. Then, Cece reached her hand out toward Belle. “I can take her home and get her tucked into bed.”
But the thought of leaving either of her parents was unfathomable to your little girl. She gasped, immediately whirling around and hiding herself against your side. “No!” She cried, holding onto you like she used to do when she was a toddler and something had frightened her. 
Your heart broke at her fear, and you wrapped a comforting, protective arm around her shoulders. “I think it’s best if she stays with me. Thank you, though.”
Cece nodded, and instead, reached out to hug you. “I’m sorry it came to this,” she whispered. 
“Me too,” came your reply. 
A few moments later, the trio was heading out the door, and soon, the room was quiet again. You gazed back at Rhett, and found he was already beginning to nod off to sleep, unable to keep his eyes open any longer. Your heart ached in your chest at the sight. He looked like a frail little boy. 
“Can we stay with Daddy all night, Mama?” Belle asked you, after she’d calmed down from her initial upset. 
You cupped her chin as you looked at her. “I don’t think so. The hospital will probably want us to leave. I can get us a motel room close by, how does that sound?”
“But I don’t wanna leave him,” she continued to protest, her bottom lip quivering much like her father’s when he cried. 
You knelt in front of her, taking her hands in your own. “I know, sweet girl. I don’t either. But I need you to be brave for me, okay? Daddy needs to get some rest so his body can heal. We can’t be with him the entire time. We’ll go sleep at a hotel, and then we’ll come right back tomorrow morning. I promise.”
She sniffled, glancing from you to her father. Even though he could barely keep his eyes open, he mustered a smile at her. “I’ll be okay, little chick. Go with your mama. She needs you.”
Tearfully, Belle nodded. “Okay, Daddy.” Then she scurried forward, leaning in so she could kiss Rhett’s cheek. “I love you.”
He hummed tiredly, eyes drifting shut. “I love you too.”
You moved to his bedside again, placing your hand over his own. The hands that had held your face as he kissed you on your wedding day. The hands that had held your unfathomably tiny daughter when she was a premature newborn. The hands that had calmed spooked horses, and built fences. The hands that held you together. 
“I love you, sweet man,” you whispered as you learned down to press a kiss against his forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
And with that, you took your daughter’s hand in your own, and led her out of the room. You fought tears as you went, entirely overwhelmed. Half of your heart was lying in that hospital bed, and leaving it behind was more agonizing than you’d been expecting. 
But you put on a brave face and left the hospital. Your child needed a warm place to sleep after the events that had taken place. You weren’t sure if you could make the hour long drive home. It seemed much too daunting, and you feared you might pass out from exhaustion if you attempted it. 
So, a nearby motel it was. You chose the cheapest place you could find, one that also included breakfast, and that was where you ended up for the night. No sooner had you made it to the room and gotten Belle in bed, than she was asleep, succumbing to the weariness that had plagued her.
You slipped into bed beside her, wrapping your arms around her little body. You were certain you would end up crying yourself to sleep, but you realized that you quite literally had no more tears left to cry. 
So you held your daughter to your chest, and you drifted off into a fitful, restless slumber. Every time you let sleep overtake you, you were plagued with the nightmare of watching Luke run your husband through. 
It was torturous, and soon, you gave up on sleep altogether, choosing to stay awake until the sun began to rise high in the sky. And as its first rays shone through the window, Belle stirred in your arms, and then sleepily looked up at you.
“Morning, baby. How did you sleep?” You softy asked her.
“Okay. I was really tired.”
“I know you were.”
“Can we go downstairs and have pancakes for breakfast?”
“We sure can, little one.”
“I wanna take some to Daddy, too.”
“We can do that, as well.”
You got up for the day, and you helped Belle get ready, getting her into the shower and giving her the motel soap products to use. She made a small fuss about having to wear the same clothes she’d worn the day before, but you gently reminded her that you had no other options, so she dressed without complaint. 
Before long, you were downstairs, hurriedly prepping and eating a quick breakfast before you were out the door, a box of pancakes clutched in Belle’s hands. She’d even use a pen to write for Daddy.
Then, to the hospital you went. When you arrived, you were overwhelmingly relieved to find that Rhett was awake, but he was very clearly in a world of pain. You heard it in the strangled groan he let out when he leaned forward to hug his daughter.
“Ahh,” he hissed, jolting back as he placed a ginger hand against his abdomen.
“Are you okay, Daddy?” Belle fearfully asked.
“I’m fi-fine, just a little sore, is all,” he assured her. This was more than just a little sore. He was in agony.
“When was the last time you had a dose of pain meds?” You softly asked.
“Haven’t gotten ‘em yet.”
“Oh, baby,” you gasped. Without a second of hesitation, you pressed the nurse call button, determined to have things taken care of. Before long, Rhett finally had his pain medicine, and he was soon happily eating the sub-par motel pancakes while Belle sat beside him on the bed, content to just be near him.
This journey you were about to embark on would not be an easy one. Rhett had a long road ahead of him. But you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that you were be with him every step of the way. You would support him, protect him, and love him, just like he had always done for you.
You learned that he would need to stay in the hospital until he was strong enough to go home. The doctor was hopeful, and assured you Rhett’s wound looked good, as far as severe injuries go, and that it should heal fine, granted there were no unexpected complications. 
However, while his prognosis appeared hopeful, there was still your family situation to be dealt with. While Belle sat on the floor, your headphones in her ears as she watched a movie on your phone, you explained to Rhett what had happened.
“You broke my brother’s nose?” He asked in disbelief. You hadn’t expected him to be so amused, but he was smiling.
“He had it coming,” you simply replied. But you quickly grew serious. “Rhett, this has gone on long enough. He nearly tore our family apart because of his stupidity. I know he’s your brother, but he isn’t worth losing your life over. I’m done protecting him. If the cops come asking questions, I’m going to tell them the truth about him.”
Rhett nodded, his face grim. “I know. I’m just sorry I didn’t give him up sooner. You have to understand where I’m comin’ from, here. I thought I was doing the right thing by following my dad’s lead. I thought if I did, it would save Amy from suffering any more heartache. And I thought it would be the best way to keep you an’ Belle safe. But I…I couldn’t even do that. And now my sweet little girl is…” he trailed off, his emotions welling up so intensely inside him that he could hardly speak. “Now my little girl is traumatized for life, all because I couldn’t just man up and turn my brother in.”
“But the thing is, you shouldn’t have had to protect him. But you did, because you’re expected to just do whatever your family asks of you. They put everything on your shoulders and I’m ashamed that I didn’t stand up for you a long time ago and put a stop to it. I’m in this just as much as you are. We both have to live with what happened last night, knowing it could have been prevented.”
“I’m scared of what comes after this. I don’t know if…if I’ll be a free man or not. But I’m willing to pay my dues, if I need to. I want to be a better man. Want to be an example to Belle and own up to my wrongdoings.”
You nodded, squeezing his hand in your own. “Whatever happens, I’m with you.”
Maybe it was too little too late to make things right. But he was going to try his damndest to do so. And you were going to support him in that plight. 
Later that day, Royal and Cecelia showed up to the hospital with Amy, which you had already expected. Belle was happy to have her cousin’s company, and you wouldn’t deprive her of such a thing. She needed all the support she could get. 
But what you didn’t know was that Perry was on his way to the hospital at that very moment, with the intention of speaking to you, and only you. He had something very important to tell you. He just wasn’t sure if you would listen to reason.
You were preoccupied with speaking to Cece when he arrived. You didn’t notice him at first, until you were suddenly made aware of a presence darkening the door of Rhett’s room. You lifted your head to look, and the moment you saw who it was, your body went tense. 
“What are you doing here?” You demanded, already stepping toward him. You weren’t going to allow him near your husband or child. 
“I need to talk to you,” he replied. He most certainly looked worse for wear, with a bandage over his nose, barely hiding the bruising and swelling you’d caused. 
“I have nothing to say to you, Perry. Not after what you’ve done.”
“You don’t gotta say anything to me. I just need you to listen. You’re gonna want to hear this, believe me.”
You weren’t sure what made you follow him. It was as if your feet were moving of their own accord. You let him lead you out into the hall, just out of earshot of everyone else in the room. When he turned to face you, you took a step back, taking in a steadying breath so you wouldn’t fly off the handle.
“Wanted you to know that I confessed. To everythin’. Left a letter for the sheriff last night.”
“You what?”
“I left Rhett out of it. It’s all on me. Figured I’ve caused enough suffering as it is. So I’m puttin’ an end to it right now.”
You were utterly speechless. You could only stare at him in disbelief. He’d really done it. After the weeks of hell he’d put you through, he’d simply written a letter and left it at that. “I-I don’t know what you want me to say to that.”
“Don’t have to say anything. Just wanted you to know.” And then, he turned to go. He walked away from you. Walked away from his parents, his brother, his daughter. He walked out through those hospital doors, and he didn’t look back.
You were left in the middle of that hospital hallway, reeling. You didn’t know what to think. Didn’t know how to feel. Part of you was relieved. The other part of you was so enraged you could hardly stand it. You wanted to scream. Wanted to cry. Wanted to destroy whatever was in your path. 
But you didn’t. You turned on your heel and went back to your husband and daughter. You acted like nothing had happened out there in that hallway. But that couldn’t be furthest from the truth.
Life went on. And you had no choice but to let it. Rhett was released from the hospital a few days later. He had strict instructions to take it easy and not do anything strenuous for the next four weeks. 
In those four weeks, you took care of him around the clock. And with each passing day, he grew stronger. He was well on his way to healing. But the emotional damage that had been caused had yet to heal for any of you.
And the very man who was responsible for that turmoil? He went missing a day after he confessed to the murder of Trevor Tillerson. He was just…gone. Without so much as a trace. No note. No explanation. He’d seemingly vanished into thin air.
The only one who seemed to know anything about it was Royal. He never admitted as much, but you could tell that he knew something. Perhaps where Perry had gone. The cops settled on telling the public that he was on the run, and currently at large. A heft reward was offered to anyone who knew of Perry Abbott’s whereabouts. 
They never did find him.
That left the rest of his family behind to pick up the pieces. Amy was now, effectively, an orphan, even it the fate of her parents was unknown. Cecelia and Royal took her in, vowing to raise her in Perry’s absence. The poor child was never the same after the disappearance of her father. Her spark had vanished along with him.
Perry’s disappearance was what pushed you over the edge. You knew that you could not spend another minute in Wabang. Not after all you had endured. So, as soon as Rhett was strong enough to travel, you decided together that it was time to move on. If not for your sake, but for your daughter’s.
It was time to head out in search of the peace you had so desperately been longing for. 
You chose to settle in a peaceful town another state over. While money was still tight, you made do with what you had. You enrolled Belle in an entirely new school. And together, as a family, you sought out therapy to cope with all you had been subjected to.
The healing process after leaving Wabang was no walk in the park, to say the least. You and Belle were both plagued by nightmares. Knowing you were suffering in such a way tore Rhett apart. But you fought your way through it together. Until the nightmares lessened and the fear gave way to peace.
Rhett carried a scar on his torso, a permanent reminder of the knife that had nearly taken his life. But every time you looked at it, you were filled with gratefulness that he was still here, with you. That he was still able to be the father your little girl needed.
The bond the three of you shared had grown deeper still throughout this grueling process. It was a bond that could never be broken. And while it had taken a lot to get to that point, you realized that it had shaped you into the person you were always meant to be. The mother you were created to be.
You watched your daughter flourish in a new place with new friends. You watched your husband come into his own and find a way to provide for his family, just like he’d always dreamed of doing. And together, the three of you found peace and healing. 
It was no easy feat, but that was okay. Because you had each other. And that was all you’d ever need.
-
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shyvioletcat · 3 months
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A/N: I'm gonna be honest, i lost my editing steam about halfway through Rowan's second POV, so past there we're just going to ignore any errors due to my impatience. Thank you so much for your patience, this chapter has been sitting in my brain for a long time. It's something other than poorly edited
~ Made of Ashes Masterlist ~
~~~~~
Aelin was so tired she didn’t know how she was conscious or functioning. The inevitable had happened, her precious little baby was sick. And she was left floundering.
It had started out fairly mild. Just a little bit of a runny nose and some irritability. The first few days had been next to nothing and Aelin had been able to cope fairly well. She was a little sleep deprived and a little anxious, but that was all and overall it hadn’t been too bad. And then Elsie didn’t get better, in fact she got worse, and everything flipped on its head. Now Elsie was coughing, often wheezing, a low appetite and a fever just to round it out. Aelin was doing her best and she managed to get Elsie to take some pain relievers that helped the baby sleep. The real issue was getting Elsie to eat enough, she was still only breastfed but Aelin fed her whenever she wanted, no matter when. It just felt like it wasn’t enough.
It had been two days of Aelin barely sleeping while fretting over her fussy daughter. Every cough and whimper had her nerves on edge, as did trying to placate to Elsie’s every whim. Aelin was battling this fight on her own. Her parents were on a business trip in Rifthold and she didn’t want to risk spreading the infection to Rue, and Korby was already sick. So Aelin would soldier on, in the trenches and on the front lines. 
Seeing her daughter sick was heartbreaking. It left her with a deep feeling of helplessness, because at the very heart of it there was nothing Aelin could do to ease her baby’s suffering. Nothing seemed to please her and the best Aelin could do was hold her just about every minute of the day. When Elsie wasn’t attached to her mother she cried like her own heart was breaking. Aelin hadn’t showered in a good 36 hours and sustenance came from whatever she could make and eat one handed. 
They were currently on Aelin’s bed with the pillows stacked so that she could lean back and rest Elsie on her chest so they were both mostly upright. Elsie fussed, fighting sleep, her little whimpers sounding congested. Aelin knew her daughter needed rest, it would be the fastest way to get better. A nap would do them both some good in fact. 
“Come on, darling,” Aelin whispered, eyes closed like all her energy diverted to keep her mouth moving. “Just sleep, even for a little bit.”
Elsie protested, rubbing her face on her mother’s shirt, no doubt getting drool and snot everywhere. Aelin didn’t care, dirty clothes weren’t a concern right now. Keeping her eyes closed Aelin started to hum and there was a moment of quiet before Elsie started fussing again. She changed to singing You Are My Sunshine softly. That one almost worked but Elsie’s contentment only lasted about a minute. And then a song came into her head at random, and Aelin was singing it before she even realised what she was doing. 
Beautiful Dreamer, wake unto me,
Starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee;
Sounds of the rude world heard in the day,
Lull'd by the moonlight have all passed away!
Beautiful dreamer, queen of my song,
List while I woo thee with soft melody;
The song was one Rowan used to sing all the time, one that his mother used to sing to him if he was to be believed. Aelin’s voice was weak and uneven, but she did her best. This song sounded better when Rowan sang it, his accent adding a bit of whimsy, almost making it sound like some kind of faerie lullaby. 
Gone are the cares of life's busy throng
Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!
Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!
Beautiful dreamer, out on the sea,
Mermaids are chanting the wild Lorelei;
Over the stream let vapours are borne,
Waiting to fade at the bright coming morn.
Beautiful dreamer, beam on my heart,
E'en as the morn on the stream let and sea;
Then will all clouds of sorrow depart,
Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!
Elsie went quiet and Aelin let out a shaky sigh of relief. Finally, a reprieve. Aelin sang it again and Elsie stayed quiet, and half way through the third time the baby was asleep. Too tired to care, Aelin didn’t bother trying to open her eyes knowing that sleep was hovering over her. It was barely a minute later and she was asleep. 
Something pulled Aelin to consciousness, not even realising how deep of a sleep she had fallen into. Within a few heart startling moments she would realise it was mother’s intuition. Elsie was still on her chest, awake and in distress. Her breathing was rapid and Aelin was sweating herself from how hot the infant was. Aelin’s body reacted first—tipping forward and cradling Elsie in her arms so that she could see her better. 
Elsie’s breathing was deep and rapid and she was looking pale. One of her fists waved about, knocking the side of her head and ears. And then Elsie coughed, an awful sound that had Aelin’s insides twisting with panic. Her baby was unwell, severely unwell.
Aelin fumbled for her phone, her hand shaking from panic and exhaustion. She couldn’t manage the string of numbers so she went to contacts instead, tapping frantically on the one that simply read: Mum.
“Hello, hello,” Evalin said cheerfully, her face appearing on the screen. 
“Mum, what do I do?” Aelin asked.
Concern flooded her mother’s features. “What do you mean?”
“She’s breathing so hard and her temperature is so high,” Aelin said, her voice heightened with her increasing alarm. “I just fell asleep for a second, just a second.”
Aelin was aware she was reaching hysterics but she couldn’t help it. Panic well and truly had set in and the overwhelming need to protect had taken over, except there was no physical threat. There was nothing she could do. 
“Show me what her breathing is like,” Evalin said, the tension in her voice clear but she was trying to stay calm.
“It’s ah… it’s fast,” Aelin flipped the phone to show Elsie. “And she’s coughing and the pain medicine must have worn off because her fever is back.”
Elsie’s breath caught and she coughed, disrupting her breathing more. Two sets of worried turquoise eyes met each other through the phone screen. Aelin broke. 
“Do I take her to the doctor or the hospital? How am I supposed to drive? I can’t watch her if I’m driving, what if she stops breathing?”
“Oh my sweethearts,” Evalin sounded devastated. “I’m sure she’ll be okay but I think you should take her to the hospital.”
Aelin sobbed, she couldn’t help it. She tried to keep it together but exhaustion and fear were overwhelming her—she was so alone right now. 
“Aelin, don’t drive. Call someone to come get you,” Evalin said. 
 But Aelin’s brain was scrambled, no one immediately came to her. “Who?”
“Aedion, he’s the closest.”
“Yeah, okay,” Aelin said a bit weakly. 
“Call him and then call me back,” Evalin said. “I’ll stay on with you until he gets there.”
Aelin hung up, then called Aedion straight away. She was holding her breath until she got an answer. Somehow she managed to be coherent and Aedion promised to be out the door moments later. Aelin was about to call her mother back when Elsie had a coughing fit, lasting so long that the baby vomited. It covered both of them and Aelin swore under her breath as she tried to contain the vomit and make sure Elsie was all right. 
Elise cried and cried, her pain and discomfort obvious. Aelin tried to comfort her as she bundled Elsie up the best she could and headed for the bathroom, snatching a change of baby clothes from a clean washing basket on the way. There wasn’t time for a shower and Aelin didn’t want to risk the chill Elsie might get after. Aelin stripped the soiled clothes off both of them and threw them in the bathtub and then yanked down a towel to give Elsie a wipe down before dressing her in leggings and a long sleeved t-shirt. The crying hadn’t stopped and Aelin felt tears gathering in her own eyes. The helplessness was overwhelming.
“Aelin.” Aedion was standing in the doorway, his face tight as he took in the scene.
“She’s sick,” Aelin said, sniffling. Her brain was fried and she couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Yeah, poor thing.” Aedion’s tone was soothing, low and soft. 
Aelin stood, keeping a safe hold on her daughter. “We gotta go.”
Aedion stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “Hold on—’’
What was he doing, didn’t he realise they had to leave? Now. Aelin was about to verbally protest when Aedion gave her a look that had her biting back the words.
“You don’t have a shirt on, and you’ll need your wallet and the nappy bag.”
Aelin had been so concerned about getting Elsie dressed after the vomiting that she hadn’t got a change of clothes for herself. All Aelin wore was a crop bra and pyjama pants. She couldn’t go to the hospital like this. 
“Pass her to me and go get what you need,” Aedion said, holding out his arms to take the baby.
Aelin nodded, passing Elsie over. “Clothes, wallet, bag.”
Over the crying Aedion repeated, “Clothes. Wallet. Bag.”
Aedion left the bathroom, murmuring to Elsie as she cried, but Aelin forced her brain to focus on what she needed to do now. She needed clothes, and her wallet, and stuff for Elsie. Three things and then they could go. In her bedroom Aelin threw on a pair of leggings and the first clean t-shirt she could find, also grabbing a sweatshirt because hospitals were always cold. Next she darted off to Elsie’s room, stuffing more clothes and nappies and a pacifier into the bag. All that was left was her wallet that was on the kitchen counter. 
She found Aedion pacing between the living area and the edge of the kitchen, whispering to Elsie. Aelin was so focused on getting out the door that she didn’t notice the quiet at first. Her daughter was still whimpering softly but the desperate crying had stopped. It irrationally hurt to see Elsie settled when Aelin had been trying so hard—for days. Aedion’s eyes met hers over the top of Elsie’s head and he gave her a weak smile. 
Aelin didn’t return it, too single minded to sort through her feelings. So she just grabbed her wallet from the bench and she was done. “Ready.”
There was a wordless agreement that Aedion would keep Elsie, at least until they got to the car. Elsie was content for the time being and there was no use disturbing her more than she needed to be, even though it caved in Aelin’s chest a little to keep the distance. Blessedly the elevator was quick to arrive and there were no stops down to the garage parking lot. Aedion unlocked the car, but Aelin opened the door and he eased Elsie into the car seat. As soon as the connection to her uncle’s chest was lost the crying started again. Each second seemed to drag on, and for a few of them Aelin waited just holding the door. When Elsie’s cry broke into a screech it kicked Aelin into gear and she was darting around to the other side of the car and climbed into the back seat. 
“I’m here, baby girl. I’m here,” Aelin tried to soothe and Aedion finished up with the buckle. Elsie’s eyes peeked over at her, her bottom lip pouting. “Just hold on, we’re going. You’ll feel better soon. 
The drive consisted of Aelin repeating assurances over and over again, words of comfort and keeping her hands on Elsie so she knew her mother was right there with her. When they got to the hospital everything passed in a blur. Aedion dropped her at the doors and Aelin hurried with Elsie through the doors. As a sick infant Elsie was seen within minutes.
Aelin felt like she was in a limbo as she waited for Elsie to be assessed. To help with her initial comfort they gave Elsie oxygen and put a monitor on her foot. Next it was quickly determined that she was at risk of dehydration so they attached an IV too. That was traumatic, and Aelin thanked the gods that Aedion was by her side when that happened. He was able to hold Aelin’s shaking hand and help keep Elsie still while the nurse injected the needle in her hand. Aelin wasn’t letting her daughter go, even if she barely had the strength. 
It was nearly another hour before they got the full diagnosis. The doctor had introduced herself as Sorsha and Aelin had to hand it to her, she had an excellent bedside manner. She was patient with both Elsie and her mother while the stress was high. Her hazel eyes were kind and sympathetic, but she was assertive and clear every step of the way. 
Sorsha delivered the news on Elsie’s diagnosis herself. She had RSV, which led to an ear infection and bronchitis. Aelin’s heart seized at the words but Sorscha assured her that it sounded scarier than it was. All three were common and treatable, and it was all caught early enough that there were no serious repercussions. And on top of that they had discovered there was a slight structural abnormality in the tubes that connected her ears to her sinuses which had been the cause of the ear infection. It had to do with drainage and bacteria, but Aelin had been too focused on fixing it that most of what was said went over her head. She was told Elsie would most likely grow out of the ear problems, she would just be more susceptible to more infections until she did. The doctor commended Aelin on her actions and left her to process what she’d just heard. 
Aelin had done the right thing, Elsie was okay— just needed to be monitored.
They were moved from the ER department to a room in the children’s ward of the hospital because they would be staying for at least a few days. Aelin barely left Elsie’s bedside, and quickly fell back into the habit of barely sleeping. There was a reclining armchair for her to sleep in, a consideration made for those parents that would be staying with their children. But the constant beeping and noise of the hospital kept her awake, as did the anxiety over her daughter’s welfare. It didn’t help that every time Aelin started to drift off she was graced with dreams of Elsie screaming, or crying, or vomiting. She would startle awake, unsure of what was reality and what wasn’t, only to find Elsie sleeping soundly. 
Aelin’s mother arrived around lunchtime on their first full day in the hospital, and it was only then that she managed to get a solid amount of sleep knowing that someone else had eyes on Elsie. She was unfortunately woken up about an hour later by a nurse coming in and doing another check. The consensus was that Elsie wasn’t declining, but she still needed to stay in for observation. 
Evalin went out for food, which Aelin only picked at until visiting hours were over. Elsie’s condition had kind of plateaued instead of getting better. Everyone kept saying at least she wasn’t getting worse. What ate away at Aelin was that maybe she hadn’t done enough, that she hadn’t seen the signs earlier and acted too late. Maybe all this could have been avoided if she had been more vigilant. Aelin had been hanging by a thread so she hadn’t noticed how serious Elsie’s condition was. To punish herself further Aelin had googled the what ifs in those hours that she couldn’t sleep and was berating herself for letting it get this far to begin with. 
Another night in the hospital was spent watching Elsie as she slept, sometimes fitfully in between medications. They gave her doses to keep her comfortable but it couldn’t take all her ailments away. The tiny girl still woke up in distress, crying from pain or discomfort from the IV, or coughing and waking up in an unfamiliar bed. Aelin was doing everything she could to make sure Elsie was comfortable and content. But it wasn’t enough. 
A new day started and Aelin was still staring at her daughter, cataloguing everything. Her breathing was easier, but it still shuddered every once and a while. There was a slight decline in the frequency of the coughing fits and blessedly they deemed that Elsie was eating enough that she was unhooked from the IV, temporarily at least. 
Evalin was their visitor today and had taken it upon herself to fill everyone in with the updates, using the group chat on Aelin’s phone. Lorcan was checking in incessantly, because guilt was riding him too. Unbeknown to everyone Korbin had RSV, and yes, it was the consensus that was where the sickness had come from. Elide and Lorcan had kept him home instead of coming to dinner that night, but it seemed that Lorcan had been the one to pass it on to Elsie. He felt awful and had sent Aelin numerous apologies, he even went as far as calling which was all but unheard of from him. Aelin told him it wasn’t his fault, reciting the statistics of how common infections were this time of year. It was winter, it was cold, people got sick.
All her friends were rallying to Aelin’s side, offering any and every kind of help they could—mainly in the offering of food to keep the visitors down in the hospital room. Her mother was in charge of crowd control, Evalin was a pro at managing people and telling them when to do things. That was probably the reason why the next guest arrived.
“Hey,” Fenrys said softly from the doorway. 
Aelin nearly jumped despite the non-startling care he had taken. “Hey, Fen.”
“I’ve got some snacks,” he said, holding up a bag as he walked into the room. “How’s she doing?”
Aelin looked back at Elsie, who was sleeping. “She’s doing okay. Getting better.”
“That’s good,” Fenrys said. 
Fenrys drifted over to where Evalin sat by the window, passing over the food and chatting quietly. Aelin didn’t bother to try and decipher what was being said, the beeping of Elsie’s monitor was too loud. As were the thoughts tumbling around in her head. 
“Go home, Aelin,” Evalin said, snapping Aelin out of her trance. “She’s okay, I’ll be right here.”
“I can’t,” Aelin replied. 
“You can,” Evalin’s voice was a little firmer. “Have a shower, get some clean clothes. I won’t leave her side, I promise.”
Aelin looked up to her mother’s face, seeing the honesty there. If she promised not to leave Elsie’s side, Aelin believed her. It would be hard but Aelin knew it was the right thing to do. She’d been in these clothes for two days and she hadn’t done more than wash her face. 
“I’ll drive you, come on,” Fenrys offered. 
Fenrys dropping by with food had truly been divine intervention or very purposeful planning. Aelin supposed it might be the latter. She might have been able to take her mother’s car, but she wasn’t too confident in her driving right now. With Elsie sleeping and Aelin didn’t want to wake her but she couldn't leave without pressing the softest of kisses to her daughter’s head. 
On the way out to the car Aelin stopped by the nurse’s station just to let them know what was happening and that she would be back as soon as they could. They nodded along and promised to ring if anything occurred while she was out. When they undoubtedly saw the colour drain from Aelin’s face they told her nothing would, because Elsie was doing fine. It still left Aelin’s stomach in a tight knot. 
Fenrys led her out to his car and opened the door for her. Aelin fingers drummed on her thigh as she waited for him to get in. The quicker they left, the quicker she could get back. The usually talkative man was silent on the drive back to her apartment and Aelin wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse. She didn’t have the energy for conversation but the silence also left her alone with her thoughts. They swirled inside her mind, building and inflating into what felt like a treacherous storm.
“Want me to come up?” Fenrys offered as he yanked on the handbrake.
“Um,” Aelin's brain was foggy. “If you want?”
Fenrys looked at her for a moment and then made his decision. “I’ll come up.
As soon as they were out of the car Aelin had her keys in her hand, ready and waiting to get her to her apartment. Then it was just the habitual ride up the elevator and walk down the hallway. 
Being inside her apartment had Aelin relaxing, even if it was just by the smallest amount. She wanted a shower, maybe some food, but then she found she couldn’t move from where she stood in front of her couch. Aelin’s tumultuous emotions were winning, try as she might she couldn’t hold them at bay any longer. She wrapped her arms around her body as the last defence of keeping herself together. It failed and a sob tore out of her before she could stop or flee to where no one could see her long held in breakdown.
“Aelin,” Fenrys said tentatively. She didn’t answer, she just cried harder. 
Fenrys was moving closer and a little voice in the back of Aelin’s head told her to stop crying, wipe her face and smile. But she was tired and sad, her daughter was sick in the hospital and it was all her fault.
“Hey, come here.” 
Arms that weren’t hers wrapped around her and Aelin was pressed against a hard chest. She let it happen, accepting the small gesture of comfort. Tears soaked Fenrys’ shirt, but he didn’t seem to mind, he just kept holding her until she was the one to call it. Aelin was embarrassed at how long it took her to calm down, and even then she couldn’t stop tears from gathering and falling down her cheeks. 
“I’m okay, Fen,” Aelin murmured, not pulling away just yet though. “Sorry about your shirt.”
“I don’t mind,” Fenrys said. “You wanna talk about it?”
“I—” the words were choked on a sob. “This is my fault.”
“What? No.” Fenrys pulled back enough so that he could look down at her. “This is not your fault.”
Those words meant nothing, guilt and despair was all consuming. “It is. Because I am not enough for her. I let it go too far, I should have taken her to the doctor or the hospital sooner, but I was just so tired and I have no idea what I’m doing. Elsie is suffering because I am not enough. I am supposed to be everything that she needs and I failed her.”
“No, Aelin. You know that’s not true,” Fenrys said.
“It is. I should have seen the signs but—”
“Aelin, please listen to me,” Fenrys actually pushed Aelin back so that she could look her in the eyes. She couldn’t hold the eye contact, she turned away, eyes closing and squeezing more tears from her eyes. “Kids get sick, and you were everything Elsie needed. There is no doubt in my mind that you sacrificed just about all of yourself for her benefit. That was enough for her, but shit happens, things that are out of your control. That is what happened. Not you.”
Aelin exhaled, her body shuddering as she tried to wrangle some control over her emotions. She risked a glance at Fenrys’ face. This man was known for his perpetual joking and troublemaking, seeing him so serious was odd but comforting.
“You are more than enough for Elsie,” he said. “You always will be. We’re all here for you, the both of you, but you are all she needs.”
“How did I mess up so badly then?” Aelin’s tears fell with a new fervour. 
“Because you’re new to this and you did do the best that you could. And when you had to, you asked for help,” Fenrys told her. “And RSV is so common, it’s something that they say is only a matter of time.”
“How do you know that?” Aelin asked, dabbing her nose on her sleeve as she finally felt brave enough to step away. 
“I did my research once your mum let us all know,” Fenrys replied. “She’s awesome by the way, real cool lady.”
“I’ll have to tell her you said that, she’ll be flattered.” Aelin felt a bit lighter. 
“What makes you think I haven’t told her myself?” Fenrys said cheekily. That made Aelin laugh and he tapped a knuckle in her chin. “There we go.”
“That’s gross, Fen. Who knew it would take you hypothetically flirting with my mother to break me,” Aelin's voice was shaky with laughter and withheld tears. 
“Had to get you to listen to me somehow,” Fenrys said with a genuine smile. 
“Um, watch TV or whatever,” Aelin waved at the couch. “I shouldn’t be too long.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
That question threatened to trigger a new wave of tears. Aelin had always been too independent for her own good, the last few days had proven that. So not wanting to set off another round she declined and all but fled to the bathroom and showered. It felt amazing and she was more than refreshed when she stepped out onto the mat and grabbed her towel. It was then she noticed that the vomit covered clothes had been removed. Someone had been in and tidied up, and instead of feeling embarrassed she just felt gratitude. 
Dressed and ready to go, Aelin did a quick check of her phone to see if there were any messages. Just one, from her mother, letting her know Elsie had woken up but was content. Aelin knew that would only be for the time being she would have to get back as soon as she could to prevent a monster meltdown. She also noticed that it was mid afternoon on a Tuesday—time and space had no relevance in the hospital. 
Fenrys was sitting on her lounge and Aelin shot him the question her phone had triggered. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”
“Nope,” Fenrys said, not looking over right away. Like he needed a moment to form his single word answer.
“But, it’s a work day. Don’t tell me you took it off for me.” If he had… it was just something else that she would beat herself up over. 
Fenrys now doubt sensed her rising panic as it was broadcasted across the room because he said without hesitation, “I quit. Finally.”
Aelin remembered something about a game company seeking him out, but as far as she knew he had stuck with Stone City. “You what?”
Slapping his hands on his things once, he stood from the couch. “Come on, let’s get you back before your mum eats all the good snacks.”
There was something more going on here, Aelin could feel it. But she definitely lacked the tact to get it out in the right way. So she just nodded and grabbed what she needed. They stayed silent until they got to the elevator, right up to when Aelin started to fidget again. Fenrys hip checked her, making her smile. 
“Remember what I said, okay?”
Aelin turned so that she could face him, finding him looking quite serious but still with that underlying playfulness which she decided to take advantage of. “What exactly? You say a lot and most of it is straight bullshit.”
Fenrys raised his eyebrows at her, like that was the most preposterous thing he’d ever heard her say. But then made a show of contemplating the words, making Aelin smile.
“You may be mostly right,” he conceded. “But you are everything and more to Elsie. You will always be enough, don’t forget that.”
Those words were said with such sincerity that Aelin felt her frayed emotions rise up again. She nodded and then turned away before the tears could fall. Fenrys, being the decent guy that he was, pretended not to notice. Damn him and his unfailing charm because despite herself, Aelin might just be starting to believe him. 
~~~~~
It had been an uneventful few days at work. The company was in their post Yulemas lull, giving all the employees a slight breather. All their clients had blown out their budgets in the lead up to the biggest commercial season of the year and were now recuperating and re-evaluating their next steps. So, all Rowan had to do was maintain contact and scope out new clients, wooing them through stories of successes from the past few months. 
The wider office outside his door was fairly quiet as Rowan read the company email that went out everyday. It was full of information he already knew, most of which he had some hand in as part of his managerial role. Skimming it, Rowan assumed there was nothing he needed to take note of. 
And then he almost missed a memo, it was so short and brief and he’d been intent only glancing over the words. But Rowan’s eyes caught on a familiar name and that was enough to give him pause and to give it the time of day. His eyes went a bit wider and he even went as far as checking his phone like the answer would appear. It didn’t, all he had were email notifications from clients. 
Rowan sat back in his chair, reading over the memo again. Fenrys had left Stone City Advertising. There was no explanation, just a short note that he was leaving that was meant to notify everyone else that there was no point in contacting him. Rowan didn’t know why, but none of his friends had said a thing about it. That unsettled him, and it also made Rowan question why he wasn’t notified as part of his role as manager. He picked up his phone ready to send a text off to Lorcan to ask him about the sudden departure when there was a knock on his office door.
It was Dresenda, a new hire. Maeve’s assistants usually had a two year job life span before they started to look for employment elsewhere. Rowan liked his job well enough but he would never want that job. “Hey, Rowan. Maeve just got in and she wants to see you.”
“Thanks,” Rowan said, standing and slipping his phone back into his pocket. 
Maeve had been over in Terrasen, wooing a high profile client and from how long she was gone, it seemed like some sight seeing as well. It would be bitterly cold there this time of year. The end of January into February was when winter sunk its claws in. Snow would cover the city for days, maybe weeks if they were lucky. In Doranelle the weather was milder all year round, snow was a rare sight here. Rowan loved the cold, it had made Terrasen feel like home in a way—like that climate was made for him. All things considered it certainly didn’t feel that way anymore. 
It was irrelevant, he was here—his life was here. His affection for the cold wouldn’t be enough to draw him back. Roman wasn’t sure there was anything that would lure him back to that city that had so painstakingly thrown him out.
~~~~~
Rowan should have been working. Not technically, but there were things he needed to do. It was a Thursday evening and he’d only left work half an hour later than everyone else with the plans to go home and finish off a few things before he went to bed. And he had opened his laptop and left it by the chair he planned to eat in… but then he’d got distracted. Rowan had made his dinner then had every intention of reading over some reports when he very randomly opened a website for one of the local department stores and was now scrolling through pages of children’s toys. 
He didn’t know much about kids but he knew that they liked toys. His company had developed more than enough advertisements to appeal to the younger audiences to know that it was a very lucrative business to be in. What Rowan hadn’t been prepared for was the sheer amount of variety. 
Dolls, building blocks, miniature kitchens, unicorns, plush toys. The list went on. His mother had mentioned that Elspeth’s birthday was coming up soon, and an idea had taken root. In his quest to get to know his daughter better he had the idea that he might buy her something. To him sounded dangerously close to bribery, but he was willing to try anything. 
Rowan was cleaning up after his fairly late dinner when there was a hurried knocking on his door. He shook his hands off over the sink and then snatched the tea towel from where it hung on the over handle to dry his hands. The knocking came again, this time more urgently. Curiosity had him moving a little faster, wondering who was insistently trying to disturb his evening. 
This time the knocking was short, sharp and hard. 
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Rowan muttered. 
He swung the door open and the sight in front of him made his heart skip a beat. Aelin stood there, Elspeth cradled in her arms. The child didn’t look good, her skin was pale and her body seemed to be shuddering. 
“She’s sick,” Aelin said, stating the obvious. 
For a moment Rowan just stood there, trying to process. Then his brain kicked into gear, along with a healthy dose of panic. “What’s wrong?”
“I just need you to drive us to the hospital,” Aelin said, ignoring his question. “Please.”
“Yeah, of course,” Rowan wouldn’t press the issue—not when he could see the urgency of the request. “Just one minute.”
The door swung when it was released but didn’t close but Aelin didn’t bother with entering his apartment. All Rowan did was grab his wallet and keys and then found them waiting in the hallway. Elspeth’s head was now resting on her mother’s shoulder and Aelin swayed in place. There was a bag hanging off Aelin’s arm and taking that small burden was the first thing Rowan did.
Aelin rushed off to the elevator and Rowan followed. He kept a cautious eye on Elspeth, feeling useless as they waited. What he was trying to comprehend was that Aelin had come to him for help. It must have been a real emergency then if she wasn’t going to wait around for someone else. Or maybe, Rowan selfishly thought, this was progress.
The elevator finally arrived and Aelin stepped in, Rowan right behind her hitting the button for the garage. Elspeth coughed and then let out a whimpering cry. It was an awful sound, something in his chest twisted because of it. 
“My keys are in the small pocket, we’ll take my car,” Aelin said, nodding at the bag Rowan held. 
He found the keys, holding them in his hand so he was ready. Rowan wanted more information but he knew this wasn’t the time or place to ask, he would just have to silently manage his building concern. And even though he was being useful, he still felt a little helpless struggling with the unknown. He would drive them to the hospital and then what? What would happen to Elspeth when they got there? Would it just be a short stay or would it be longer? Would Aelin want him to wait? What could he realistically do to help in this situation when they got to the hospital? Rowan could feel the tension in his body building with each new question. 
It wasn’t much longer until they were at the car. Rowan left Aelin to get Elspeth sorted and he dropped into the driver’s seat. His long legs were bent uncomfortably and he pushed the seats back. This brought him back to years ago when he would drive Aelin’s car. He always copped it afterwards if he didn’t put it back to the original position. 
“I know, baby I know,” Aelin murmured as she strapped Elspeth into her car seat while she protested. “I know you don’t want to go but we need to make you feel better.”
Rowan monitored the progress in the rearview mirror. When Aelin sat back and clicked her seatbelt into the buckle he started driving. 
Elspeth whimpered and complained, and he saw her reaching for her mother. Aelin lent over and kissed that little hand and gave Elspeth and her own to hold onto. “You’re okay, Elsie. I know it hurts, but we can make it better. 
Rowan was tempted once again to seek some explanation over what had Elspeth so distressed, but it seemed he didn’t have to. 
“She’s okay,” Aelin said, no doubt noting how Rowan couldn’t stop checking the rearview mirror. “I would have taken her to the doctor but it’s after house and the quickest and easiest way to get her seen is take to the hospital. It’s just a bit of a cold but they hit her pretty hard and I just want to get some things checked.”
“Poor thing.” Rowan couldn’t think of anything else to say. 
“We manage.” 
Those words were clipped and a little defensive and they had no need to be. Rowan wouldn’t come for her over this. Gods, seeing Elspeth so miserable and in obvious pain… Aelin was doing the best that she could. And it would have taken a lot for her to knock on his door for help. It stung a little that she would still assume he would think so negatively about her in that way. 
It was ten minutes more before they reached the hospital and Rowan dropped them as close to the doors as he could. Aelin hadn’t said anything besides thanks before she left so Rowan wasn’t sure what he should do. Maybe he’d just wait in the car, but when he parked he saw the bag that Aelin had been left behind. 
Rowan ended up in the waiting room, the bag keeping him company on the seat beside him. Neither Aelin or Elspeth were in sight, and he was glad that they were seen so quickly. To kill time he mindlessly scrolled through his phone, his mind too muddled to do anything productive. The bag next to him was all the prodding he needed to approach the reception desk and get whatever information they would give him. 
“Excuse me, I was wondering if I could get an update on Elspeth Galthynius?” Rowan asked. 
The woman at the desk gave him a polite smile and then clicked a few things. “She’s been moved to the children’s ward.”
“Her mother left a bag with me, am I right to take it through?” He held up the bag as evidence. 
“No problem, go through.”
“Thanks,” Rowan said and then followed the signage to the children’s ward. 
He was stopped again at those doors and he gave the same story and was let through without much fuss. They had also given him a room number so he kept an eye out for the right one. The door was open and he found Aelin sitting next to Elspeth’s bed, watching her daughter. There was a monitor bandaged to Elspeth’s hand and he noted there was an oxygen apparatus next to the bed that wasn’t being used. Besides that Rowan couldn’t decipher anything about her condition because Elspeth was asleep. Rowan could immediately tell that Aelin was less stressed and that was reassuring. She didn’t look ready to fight the nearest threat anymore, her shoulders were looser, the lines of her face more relaxed. He knocked and then stepped into the room. 
“Hey, I just wanted to see if there was anything else you needed,” Rowan said, handing over the bag.
“Oh,” Aelin looked and sounded exhausted. “Um, no we’re okay.”
“Alright,” Rowan still hesitated. “Is anyone else coming? I can leave your car here and get myself back.” 
“Shit, I didn’t even think of that. Take my car, Fen should be here soon,” Aelin replied, rubbing at her face. “Thank you, again.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Rowan moved closer so he could lower his voice. “What’s wrong?”
Aelin rubbed her hands on her thighs and swallowed hard. “When Elsie was just about four months old she got RSV, it’s a respiratory infection. Since then she’s been more susceptible to reinfection or getting a bad cough when she gets sick. She also has something a little off about the structure of the inside of her ears, so whenever she gets sick we usually get ear aches as well. Just… Overall she gets infections easier so I always want to make sure they get seen and diagnosed right away.”
Elspeth being this unwell explained why she had fallen asleep so suddenly on him the other day. 
“Do they happen often? The earaches?” Rowan asked and Aelin nodded. “I had ear problems too, the eustachian tubes, Right?”
Aelin swallowed again, eyes darting from him to Elsie. “I didn’t know that.”
Rowan took a chance and sat down on the chair next to Aelin, feeling less awkward and imposing. “I used to get horrible earaches, so bad that I still remember them vividly. But I eventually grew out of them.”
Aelin just nodded, eyes fixed on a spot on the floor. They were quiet for a while and then Aelin laughed stiffly. It left Rowan a bit surprised and he didn’t know what he was supposed to respond with. 
“It hurts so much to see her in pain and there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s a sickening kind of helplessness,” Aelin explained. “I try… but it never seems good enough. She wanders off and licks the glass at work or something, or we go to the library and some random kid coughs on her.”
That comment made Rowan huff a small laugh, and to his surprise his response made Aelin lips quirk in a fraction of a smile. But it fell away too quickly and when Aelin looked to where Elspeth slept Rowan could see the unshed tears in her eyes. 
“Last time you saw me I lost her and then there was her almost taking a solo ride in the elevator,” Aelin said. “I don’t know what it is but you seem to keep witnessing my worst mothering moments. I just—”
Aelin broke. Her breath caught and Rowan recognised her tell tale efforts she was dedicating to stop herself from crying. It stunned Rowan for a moment and he was about to tell her that these supposed failings didn’t affect his opinion of her as a mother, but he didn’t get the chance. From what he had seen, Aelin was a dedicated mother, this evening had been proof of that. Right now she was practically shaking—he could see the tremors in her hand from where it rested on the arm of the plastic chair. 
He wasn’t sure what made him do it but he reached and took Aelin’s hand, squeezing it just a little bit. 
“You’re doing great,” Rowan said, hoping she could understand how genuine he was. 
Aelin looked from his hand to his face, reading his open sincerity. She swallowed, and she withdrew her hand to stop tears from rolling down her cheeks. Rowan was searching for something else to say when there was a knock on the door. Aelin’s head jerked towards the door, Rowan looking away from her to send his eyes in the same direction. A pretty doctor stood in the doorway, probably around Aelin’s age, her hazel eyes darting between him and Aelin. 
“Dad, I assume?” she said. 
“No,” Aelin said quickly. “I mean, yes. But no. Gods,” she muttered.
Rowan’s gut twisted at hearing that awful and hurried explanation. He didn’t dare contend it.
“Can we talk outside? I don’t want to wake her.” Aelin stood and was halfway to the door when she stopped. “Is this… you all right with this?”
Meaning being left alone with Elspeth. 
Without hesitation Rowan gave his answer. “No worries, I’ll sit with her.”
An expression filled with mixed emotions appeared on Aelin’s face and then she followed the doctor out the door. Rowan was left alone in the room with Elspeth. It was quiet except for the quiet hum of the machines and Elspeth’s sharp intake of breath every once and a while. She was still asleep, laying on her stomach, her hand with the monitor attached resting beside her head. Her skin was still pale, but there was a rosy flush on her chubby cheeks. Every once and a while she took in a deep breath and it jerked her whole body, making Rowan start every time. He had never seen her this still, she was usually so energetic and it gave him the opportunity to study her. 
She looked so much like Aelin. He could still recall the photos of her as a child that he had seen and Elspeth was like a mini double. But Rowan was also starting to see himself in her too. His mother had been right, the way her brow furrowed was like him and maybe there was something in the shape of her face that was like him. And there were her green eyes, of course. 
Those eyes that opened now, lost and hazy for a moment before they focused on the unfamiliar room and what was weighing down her hand. Elspeth’s face fell, tears quickly gathering.
Rowan was out of his chair in an instant, panicking with the need to calm her down. “Hey, there sweetheart. It’s okay.” 
That did nothing and tears ran down her cheeks as she raised her head up, no doubt looking for her mother. 
“Hey, Elsie, it’s okay,” Rowan said, crouching beside the bed. He realised a moment later that was one of the few times he had said her name. But it seemed to get her attention. “Mum’s just outside, she’ll be right back.”
”Mama,” Elspeth just about squeaked. 
“Yeah, she’s talking to the doctor, she’s still here,” Rowan assured her. 
“Hurts, Rowan.” She remembered him and was saying his name a little better. Elspeth pulled on her ear. “Hurts here.”
So carefully, he pulled her hand away from her ear so that she didn’t irritate it more. “I know, sweetheart.”
Elspeth held onto his thumb, not even trying to go back to her ear. Her hand was so godsdamned tiny compared to his. She didn’t say anything, but did start to cry harder.
”Hey, hey,” Rowan tried to soothe, scrambling for something. “How about a lullaby, one from when I was small?”
She didn’t give a verbal response, just watched him with expectant and wide eyes. Rowan cleared his throat and then started singing. 
Beautiful Dreamer, wake unto me,
Starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee
Sounds of the rude world heard in the day,
Lull'd by the moonlight have all passed away
Beautiful dreamer, queen of my song,
List while I woo thee with soft melody
Gone are the cares of life's busy throng
Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me
Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me
Beautiful dreamer, out on the sea,
Mermaids are chanting the wild Lorelei
Over the stream let vapours are borne,
Waiting to fade at the bright coming morn.
Beautiful dreamer, beam on my heart,
E'en as the morn on the stream let and sea;
Then will all clouds of sorrow depart,
Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me
Rowan stopped singing and it seemed to have worked. Elspeth breathed a little faster and her eyes fluttered, but she was relaxed and happy. The smile she gave only reached half her mouth with her cheek squished on the mattress. Regardless, it was sweet enough to make Rowan’s chest tighten. It was beautiful in a heartbreaking way. She tried her hardest to keep her eyes open but they stayed close, and just like that she was asleep again. For longer than he should have, Rowan let Elspeth hold onto him, not wanting to lose the small weight of her hand just yet. It was only when he was sure she was soundly asleep and that moving away wouldn’t wake her, he did so. A little regretfully because he had been more than happy to offer her that small comfort as long as she needed it. He sat back in his chair and just waited. 
Aelin came back into the room, shutting the door quietly behind her. “How’d she go?”
”She woke up for a second but then she settled,” Rowan said, some of that awkwardness from before still lingering. 
“Thank you,” Aelin said. 
Rowan couldn’t help the slight smile that tilted his lips, remembering  Elspeth’s little smile. “I was no problem, Aelin.”
“I mean for everything.” 
Rowan took in the way that Aelin stood with her arms crossed, but not with hostility. It was enough of a reprieve to prompt him to ask, “Why me?”
“You were closest,” was Aelin’s simple answer. “I might have been able to drive myself but I would be fretting. Everyone else is on the other side of the city right now and I don’t like to wait, not when it comes to her.”
”I would never have turned you down,” Rowan said. He almost added I hope you know that but Aelin answered before he could. 
But he didn’t need to. “I know that.”
They fell into silence again, slightly awkward, but when weren’t things awkward between them these days? At least they’d expended most of their anger. Aelin shaking her head drew Rowan’s attention, and there was nothing he could think to say. Then he heard hurried footsteps and then the door opened. Fenrys stepped into the room, concern written all over his face. 
“How’s she doing?” Fenrys asked, all his focus on Aelin and Elsie. Rowan wouldn’t have been surprised if his presence was going completely unnoticed. 
“She’s okay,” Aelin said, as Fenrys met her at the foot of the small bed. “It’s her ears again.”
Immediately Fenrys wrapped an arm around Aelin, and it was over her head that Rowan was finally noticed. Fenrys’ dark eyes went a bit wide, but there was no other reaction besides that. Rowan shifted his attention back to Elspeth who was still soundly asleep thanks to his singing. Aelin and Fenrys were conversing quietly and it was apparent that he was no longer needed, so he’d excuse himself and leave. 
“I’ll head back,” he said. “Hope she feels better soon.”
”Thank you, Rowan,” Aelin said again. 
In response Rowan nodded, and with one last look at Elsie, he left. He didn’t get far before he heard his name being called. Turning, Rowan saw Fenrys walking towards him. It gave Rowan a chance to take the other man in—he looked dishevelled, his curls were messy and there was almost a frantic air about him. He must have raced from wherever he’d been, likely getting caught in traffic. 
“Hey,” Fenrys said when he got close enough. “Thanks for bringing them here.”
This was the first civil interaction since the park and, like now, they had been in public. But this time there was no impactful audience here in the hospital hallway. Nothing about what Fenrys was doing right was performative, that much was very clear. 
“Don’t mention it,” Rowan said. “Even if that was the least I could do, I was happy to do it.”
“I know.” Fenrys extended his hand. “I mean it. Thank you.”
This was strange for Rowan. Once upon a time he would have been Aelin’s knight in shining armour, now that role was taken by someone else. Fenrys’ affection for both Aelin and Elspeth was genuine, there was no doubt about that. And Rowan saw the hand shake for the peace offering it was. This was an offer for burying the hatchet once and for all, prompted on by gratitude. 
Rowan had nothing to lose here, and everything to gain. Holding onto this grudge when he didn’t even have the full story of how things ended up the way they had was going to keep him from his goal. Rowan’s priority was Elspeth, any animosity that remained would only cause more damage to everything he was working so hard to build. More than that, seeing the way it had unfolded tonight, how many times had Fenrys been the one to step up when no one else would?
His daughter had benefited from that care and attention. That was the bitter truth of it, because Rowan was not there himself. 
Rowan shook Fenrys’ hand. “It’s all good, Fen.”
Some of that tension lifted from Fenrys’ face, and a soft smile appeared instead as he glanced back to the hospital room. “I’ll let you go.”
”Look after them,” Rowan said and left before he got any kind of reply. 
It was clearer than anything now, Elspeth—and Aelin— had everything they needed. And it wasn’t just a ride home for the hospital. If Rowan left tomorrow, the impact he would leave on Elspeth’s life would be next to nothing. She would go on and forget he existed. That didn’t sit well with Rowan. His daughter didn’t need him but Rowan was beginning to wonder if he was the one that needed her.  
~~~~~
Rowan left and Aelin felt like she could breathe again. She had been thankful for the way he hadn’t even hesitated to get them to the hospital, but there was still so much tension when he was around. 
“I’ll be back in a sec.”
Fenrys left, dropping a kiss on the top of Aelin’s head. She didn’t know what he had to say to Rowan and she was too tired to try and eavesdrop. It didn’t feel like her place to monitor their every interaction, not like it had before. All the volatile feelings that led to adverse reactions seemed to have worked themselves out. That was good, one less thing for her to worry about.
Her boyfriend wasn’t gone too long, and he ended up leading them over to one of the chairs, pulling Aelin down to sit in his lap. She’d been stuck in a trance watching Elsie breathe and hadn’t realised how close her legs were to giving out until they started moving. Aelin leaned into Fenrys, letting the closeness of his body and his steady heartbeat relax her. She dropped down a bit more so she could rest with her feet on the other chair.
“What happened?” Fenrys asked softly. 
Taking in a deep breath Aelin explained everything. Elsie had been rundown for a few days, Fenrys had known that, he’d even been the one to point it out when he picked them up from the shopping mall the other day. It had started with a runny nose, then a cough, then this evening Elsie’s temperature had spiked and the earaches had started. Aelin knew what would happen next, the symptoms would escalate and so would Elsie’s distress. When her daughter was sick she would wind herself so much that it would exacerbate her cough, then she’d vomit and then it would go down from there. At the hospital they could put her on oxygen and give her pain relief, minimising the risk of dehydration and worse.
“Elsie was close to vomiting and I couldn't get her to keep the medicine in her mouth,” Aelin explained. “I weighed my options and Rowan was the best of them.”
”It was good of him to bring you two down,” Fenrys said. “I thanked him for it.”
”I did too,” Aelin said, then she laced her fingers with Fenrys’ and snuggled into his side. “So, it turns out that Elsie’s ear problems were inherited. From him.”
Fenrys huffed out a breath. “Guess that they have more in common than that frown, huh?”
“Mhmm,” Aelin hummed. Then she was silent for a long time, considering if she should say what she was thinking, knowing Fenrys would rally to assuage her doubts. But she couldn’t leave it, not when old insecurities raised their ugly head. “Do you think she might have suffered less if I had of known?”
Just as she knew he would, Fenrys wasn’t hearing a bar of it. “Chances are she would have had the same problems no matter what. Maybe we might have cottoned onto the cause a bit earlier, but don’t beat yourself up about it. Elsie is fine, she always is and always will be as long as you’re her mother.”
Aelin tilted her face up while Fenrys looked down at her. Her boyfriend was full of shit and she was about to tell him so when he stopped down and kissed her. “Don’t start. I’ll always win. I have years of evidence to counter every argument.”
“Fen,” Aelin said, her throat getting tight. “You’re too good to me.”
He kissed her again. “Maybe.”
There was a soft groan from the bed and Elsie stirred, her free hand rubbing at her eyes and she panicked for a moment while she tried to work out where she was. Aelin was instantly moving, sitting on the edge of the bed and smoothing a hand over Elsie’s hair. 
“Hey, I’m here. We’re at the hospital, remember?” 
“Where Rowan?” Elsie asked, raising her head up a bit, but that seemed to disturb her ear which she started pulling at.
Aelin gently pulled that hand away. “He went home.”
Her daughter looked visibly upset by that. “He sung me my song, Mama.”
“He…” it took Aelin a moment to figure it out. The lullaby she had stolen from him. “That was nice of him.”
“He’s my friend,” Elsie said with full confidence, as much as she could be in her sickly state. 
Aelin didn’t know how to take that little bit of news, little did Elsie know that biologically he was much more than that. 
“Uncle Fen!” She said when she saw who was seated behind her mother.
Fenrys gave the girl a smile full of adoration. “Hey there, Pumpkin. Not feeling good?”
Elsie shook her head. “Ears, uncle Fen.”
”We should get rid of them,” Fenrys said, making Elsie gasp.
”No.” she drew out the word, her voice hoarse. 
“I’ll do mine to match.”
Elsie laughed and Aelin smiled along with her. But then her daughter’s demeanour changed to something more serious.
”Home, Mama?”
Aelin shook her head. “Tomorrow, my love.”
Elsie frowned in response, Aelin hated to see her upset.
”Can I come up there and give you a hug?” She asked. 
Elsie nodded enthusiastically, and Aelin cradled her in her arms, rocking back and forth gently. Then she started humming the lullaby again, knowing that it would calm Elsie down immediately. Because Aelin had been singing it for years, ever since that first hospital visit. That lullaby had been one thing she could rely on to soothe her fussy child. While Aelin hummed her way through the tune she tried not to think about the unexpected and lasting effects the father of her child seemed to be having in not just her and Elsie’s lives, but what it might mean for him now as well. 
~~~~~
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rocketbirdie · 4 months
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A New School Hunter's Guide to Old School Monster Hunter: What to Expect
World and Rise have come and gone. These are the games that introduced you to Monster Hunter. But now that you've completed every goal you set out to achieve, there's a big 2025 sized hole in your hunting heart where Wilds may one day be. "In the meantime, why not catch up on the old MH games?" you think to yourself, blissfully unaware of the hell that you are about to subject yourself to.
Below the cut is a SUPER LONG and very dramatic post, intended for new-ish Monster Hunter players who are bored of being good at the game, and want to remember what AGONY feels like— but would rather not jump in 100% blind like I did, doomed to hilarious suffering.
Note: This post mainly refers to MHGU, but much of it applies to older MH games as well. I came from Rise, and have not played World. If I made any incorrect assumptions about games I haven't played, apologies in advance. Let me know if I made any glaring mistakes.
Also, feel free to reblog and add any more info that I missed! I am but one mortal hunter, after all.
Table of Contents, because I wasn't kidding when I said this is a super long post:
Preparing for a Quest
GATHERING TAKES FOREVER
Paintballs, and other things that aren't in the newer games for a very good reason
When the monster attacks you
When you attack the monster
Armor Skills (AAAAAAA!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAGHHHHH!! AAAAAAAHHAGHHAAHGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!)
The Desire Sensor (You Will Grind.)
No but really, you'd better have ~30 minutes set aside if you're planning on reading this whole thing in one sitting. Enjoy!
1. Preparing for a Quest
Many of the conveniences of the modern quest hub layout are nowhere to be found in old school MH games. Sure, you've got an overpriced shop, a smithy, and a quest handler all in one spot. And if you're lucky, maybe even a place to eat before the hunt. But if you want to change your equipment, save the game, or entrust your cat with an overseas trade deal, you'll likely have to do it somewhere else. And that means loading screens.
I'm telling you now, get used to the loading screens. Make sure you know what you want to do and where you need to do it, before you sit there and wait. Our spoiled Gen 5 asses are so accustomed to seamless transitions; the load times are not unreasonable, but the sheer number of interruptions will make you feel like a rabid animal gnawing at the bars of a wire cage. You'll get used to it. <- That's a phrase you're going to see a LOT in this post.
Go to your house to pick out your weapon and armor, and feast your eyes upon the horror: all of the equipment is haphazardly thrown into one box. There are no separate storage spaces for individual weapon types, meaning your sweet precious baby angel, the hammer, has to share menu real estate with the fucking light bowgun (UGH).
You cannot sort armor by head, chest, arms, etc. Want to see how your armor skills are looking? Close the box. Open the start menu. Navigate to "status," then flip through a page or two of normal, healthy stats. Find the armor skills page. Black out for a split second. Feel your heart rate spike, then immediately close out the armor skills, and decide that it's not important right now, and that you'll figure it out later.
Get your items in order. Set an item loadout if you can. Money is tight, and that won't be changing any time soon, so keep an eye on your zenny while you're shopping and smithing. Excess bones and ore are a decent source of cash if you're desperate.
I know I probably don't have to say it, but EAT! Eat something before the hunt! It increases your health and stamina bar and may grant you temporary skills. Some skills are exclusive to food, and can't be acquired via armor or decorations, so try out as many foods as you can. You'll be able to make more dishes using ingredients that you obtain as side quest rewards.
Before you set out on your quest, make absolutely certain that you have everything you might need. This is EXTREMELY important. The main camp is pretty much just there for show. (And for delivering eggs, but that's beside the point.) You cannot change your equipment or refill your items AT ALL once you're out there. If you forgot to eat, too bad, sucks to be you. And whatever weapon you bring is the only one you'll be using for that entire quest.
Alright, time to hunt! Talk to the quest handler, no, not that npc, no, that's not her either- ahem. Talk to the quest handler, aaaand yippee. 1 Star is all gathering quests. Well, at least they'll go by quickly!
2. GATHERING TAKES FOREVER
The first thing you'll notice on your first gathering quest in old school MH is that you slowly. Gather. One. Item. At a time. Maybe two if you're really striking it rich. Please for the love of all that is good, hold down the gathering button. Save yourself some time. Don't be an idiot like I was for more hours than I'm willing to admit.
YOU NEED TO GATHER. You need to gather so much, all the time, constantly. If you're not actively in combat, you should be gathering. If you're not gathering, then you should be moving to another gathering spot in order to gather more stuff. Bring a gathering palico. Hell, bring two. They are The Best type of palico, it doesn't even come close. There is no moment when you should not gather.
I can't stress this enough. Old school MH games will not just shower you with free items. Quest rewards are often pitiful, and it's safe to assume that the trader won't have what you need. Yes, gathering is slow and boring. But that's exactly why you need to weave it into every beat of downtime that the game gives you. GATHER, always. You'll thank yourself later.
You will need pickaxes to mine, and bug nets to catch bugs. These take up precious inventory space, but are well worth bringing to regular locales. If you want to fish and actually obtain something worthwhile (PLESIOTH), then you'll need to craft bait or bring some with you. And if the crafting recipes aren't listed anywhere in game, then gog help you.
There is a chance that crafting will just... not work. It'll consume the materials but spit out garbage instead of what you wanted to make. The odds of this happening can be mitigated by bringing a crafting book with you on your quest, which you can buy from a shop. But that book will take up space in your already miserably small inventory, assuming you brought sensible things along too, like potions. And a map.
Unless you have the locale memorized, you won't know where you are without the map item. In Low Rank, a map is courteously provided in the main camp's rations box, along with some field meds and food. (Don't get used to this kind of generosity. It'll be gone in High Rank and beyond.) Now that you have a map, you'll be able to see where all of the gathering spots are.......... right? RIGHT?????
WRONG. If you want to know where the spots are, you'll have to find them and then dedicate some real-life human brain memory space for that info. In some games, the gathering spots are obvious, with a big question mark that pops up when you can interact with them. In older games... uh... ha. Haha...... yeah. Good luck.
On the bright side, at least the map is good for keeping yourself safe. Y'know, because of the titular monsters. You can see the monsters on the map......... right?
Okay I'm gonna cut straight to the chase.
3. Paintballs, and other things that aren't in the newer games for a very good reason
Craft a pretty pink paintball with a paintberry and a sap plant. Equip it in your item scroll bar, and press that sexy item use button to throw it at a monster. Voila! A pink dot appears on your map. This (and psychoserum) allows you to see the monster's location.
Get into the habit of bringing multiple paintballs with you on every quest. You will miss a few throws. Also, the effect wears off after a few minutes, meaning you'll have to find the monster and hit it with another paintball again in order to keep it on the map. Be mindful of flying wyverns, who are aggravatingly hard to follow without a paintball. That includes some unexpected honorable mentions, for example Mizutsune, Zinogre, and Rajang, who can just... fly to the opposite side of the map. Yeah, I know. Don't ask.
So Zinogre has just taken to the skies. Now's a great opportunity to sharpen your weapon! If you remembered whetstones, that is. They're not an infinite resource, and they're not just automatically in your inventory. You'll have to go out of your way to obtain them and bring them with you on your hunts.
Likewise, I mentioned earlier that you need pickaxes and bug nets for gathering their respective items. What I didn't tell you is that they too are a finite resource. Pickaxes and bug nets can and will break, and you'll have to buy or craft new ones. If you're planning on doing a lot of gathering, eat for skills that reduce the likelihood of your tools breaking. It makes a huge difference.
Pay attention to what locale the quest takes place in. Some locales are hot, like Dunes and... *shudders* Volcanic Hollow. Bring cool drinks with you to hot locales, or else you'll take passive heat damage. Trust me, you do not want to be on fire the whole time you're running away from (and whiffing your attacks on) Uragaan. Ask me how I know that.
Similarly, cold locales will ruin your stamina bar over time. Hot drinks protect you from this stamina drain. Some locales, like Desert, have both hot and cold areas. Which is annoying because the drinks cancel each other out. Keep this in mind.
Don't be lured into a false sense of comfort just because you didn't forget your cool drinks. Because once you get into High Rank, there's a pretty good chance that you won't spawn at the main camp when you start a quest. One day, you will spawn right into a pool of lava, directly in a monster's line of sight, with zero time to prepare. It's okay to be a total chicken and run away screaming. After all, it is a monster, and it will attack you.
4. When the monster attacks you
I almost guarantee that your first old school hunt will leave a bitter taste in your mouth. Not bitter enough to make you instantly hate the game, but just enough to make you want to put the controller down and go outside and maybe even interact with other human beings, which is just as tragic.
Want to get some practice in with your weapon before the hunt? Well, too bad bucko, there's no training area. There may be a so-called "training quest," in which an npc barfs tutorial text onto your boots and then pits you against a real monster in an inescapable arena fight to the death, which is hilarious if you think about the in-game universe implications. Anyway. If you want to learn the in and outs of your weapon, then you'll have to do it the old fashioned way: get out there and get your ass kicked.
Great news! Getting your ass kicked is cheap, easy, and quick. Monsters' attacks will hit you like a cement truck packed with explosives speeding towards a steel wall. Even dumb little attacks like tail slaps and nibbles will take a CHUNK out of your health bar. Good thing you brought potions!
Terrible news! You are extremely vulnerable for several seconds while consuming healing items. Whether you like it or not, you will stand there in place, unable to move at all, glug, then flex your strong beautiful arms for the whole world to admire. And if the monster turns its attention towards you while you're doing this, there is nothing you can do but watch in despair as all of the health you just regained AND then some, gets torn away from you in an instant.
Don't wait until the fights get tough in order to prioritize learning monster's attack patterns. Even early on, only heal when you know for certain that it's safe to do so. Remember, it's okay to run away like a little wuss to put distance between yourself and the monster so you can use your items in peace. Hell, leave the area altogether if you have to. That being said, don't let the fight get too close to the edges of the area. Loading zones always get the last laugh.
Sooo.... hitboxes. They suck. They're bigger than they look, and they're present for longer than they should be. And some attacks have little to no tell or wind-up animation. Some monsters are just a vile conglomeration of both of these problems. (here's looking at you, Yian "You Mother Fucking Son of a Bitch" Garuga). Sigh... you'll get used to it.
If you came from Rise, getting knocked down by an attack will feel EXCRUCIATING. There is no fast way to fling yourself back onto your feet after taking a big hit. You will lie there, recoiling in pain, seething for way longer than you want— and you may even like it after a few hundred hours. Hang in there.
If a strong attack sends you flying into a wall, you'll very likely get stunned. Getting stunned is the single most dangerous thing that can happen, far worse than poison or waterblight or what have you. You can escape stun significantly faster by mashing buttons and wiggling the control stick. And I guess you could also bring the Stun Res skill, but... we'll, um, come back to that later.
WATCH OUT for pin attacks! You may very suddenly get snapped up and chewed apart like a dog toy, and it will be very bad for your health. That's why you should keep your pockets lined with literal shit. Chuck a dung bomb to escape a pin attack before the monster finishes ripping you to shreds. Dung bombs may also convince an unwanted monster to leave the area, which is great for when you'd rather not fight Gravios and Shogun Ceanataur at the same time. Which is all the time.
5. When you attack the monster
Your favorite weapon is not what you remember it being. Moves are missing, or mapped to completely different buttons. "How tf do I vault? Why won't my kinsect go where I want?? Stop shooting pheromone pellets!!!" whines the insect glaive main. "What do you mean there's no shoulder tackle?? How do I get to TCS faster????" cries the greatsword player. "Oh, ok, nothing's really changed," says the SnS main. It's a travesty, I tell you.
All of your movement is clunky. Attack timing is off. New school muscle memory is going to get you carted a lot. But hands down, the absolute most traumatizing thing is that there is no backwards dodge roll. You can dodge left, right, and forward, but never back. As a hunting horn main myself, I can assure you, this is a fate worse than hell. They say you never know love until you've loved and lost. You loved the backwards dodge roll, and soon, you'll know it.
And it gets even funnier if you play lance or gunlance— you can kiss your forward hop goodbye. Need to close the gap? Turn around, aim your squishy butt cheeks at the monster, and hop backwards towards it, expending absurd amounts of stamina in the process. Otherwise, walk slowly and threateningly towards it like the apex predator you are. Oh, and don't bother blocking attacks. It takes too much stamina, inflicts an abysmal knockback, and half of the time, you'll just get hit anyway. Guard and Guard Up are 100% necessary if you plan on using that shield. Good luck obtaining those skills, sucker.
The charge blade is somehow simultaneously more complicated and way easier to play than its modern iterations. The opposite is true of the switch axe, imo. Blunt weapons are stronger, but there's something a bit off about the way they feel. The longsword is the longsword. And as for the bowguns, I wouldn't be able to tell you, because I know better than that.
It doesn't matter what weapon you pick, because either way, you are going to develop a highly concerning dash juice dependency.
Take advantage of every tool the game provides. The usual stuff like barrel bombs, traps, and ballistae are indispensably helpful. But there are other familiar mechanics that are way more useful in old school MH than they are in newer games. That includes invading monsters (DEVILJHO!!), who will indiscriminately attack you AND the monster you're hunting, inadvertently aiding your hunt without you needing to wyvern ride or seek out a turf war. Jump off of ledges to rack up mounting damage in gen 4 games, which may reward you with a free knockdown (if you can mash fast enough)!
Monster's movements are janky, and this is in your favor. Get good at "head sniping" the monster as they turn around in 90 degree increments. Don't get greedy during small opportunities. Remember, monsters can go from t-posing, straight to crushing you to death, with zero wind-up animation.
There are no damage numbers when you land a hit. This may spoil the instant gratification factor of the game for a while. If you're a greatsword main, you will suffer from withdrawals due to Big Number Addiction. But over time you'll realize that it's actually fantastic, because now you're less obsessed with landing the super big awesome attack on the ultra weak spot for maximum damage. Instead, you'll find yourself savoring every little hit you manage to land. It'll be better for your cardiovascular health in the long run.
That's a good analogy for the entire new school to old school pipeline: it sucks A LOT for a long time, then gets really, really good later on once you get over the "Gen 5 stages of grief." Listen, you will have an abusive relationship with this game. It took me 80 HOURS before I could actually say with confidence that I liked MHGU more than I disliked it. Not that I loved it, but merely that I didn't hate it. 80 real life hours. That's... probably not good, but whatever.
There is one thing that I don't think I'll ever learn to love, though. And that's...
6. Armor Skills (AAAAAAA!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAGHHHHH!! AAAAAAAHHAGHHAAHGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!)
Face it. You will never, ever, ever be as powerful as you are in World or Rise. You will not have your maxxed out attack and affinity boosting skills plus the comfy stuff like Flinch Free and Stun Res all at the same time. Not in Low Rank, not in High Rank, and not quite in G Rank either. Here's why.
Skills have tiers as usual. But now, they also have thresholds. For example, you want the skill Speed Eating +1, then you'll need 10 points in the Eating skill. If you're even one point short, then the skill will not activate. But Speed Eating +1 doesn't increase your potion glugging speed... if you want that to happen, then you'll need to add 5 more points, for a total of 15, to activate Speed Eating +2. This is true for every skill, and is way easier said than done.
Some skills will feel nerfed big time, like Handicraft. You'll almost never see purple sharpness without Handicraft +2. On the other hand, Crit Draw is a one tier skill that gives you a flat 100% affinity boost on every draw attack. Which is absolutely busted.
Wearing a single piece of armor will provide a few points towards a given skill. If the armor has slots, then you can slot in decorations to increase the points as well. Slot "sizes" are weird and inconsistent, and the decos themselves typically only add 1 or 2 points per skill. Considering the fact that the average skill takes 10 points to activate, and the average full armor set has maaaybe around 7 slots to work with, decos are not going to be your primary source of skill activation.
Now for another problem. Let's say you want an armor set that has just three skills: Status Attack +1, Constitution +1, and Stun Res +1. Pretty modest, right? Should be easy enough. Well would you look at that, High Rank Nerscylla's armor set gets you the first two, and because Stun Res decos are worth 2 points each, you can just slot the last skill in! Nerscylla's set has 5 slots, which is the exact number you need to get those 10 points in Stun Res.
Great! So you do just that. Except when you check your skill points, you discover that Stun Res has a whopping zero points.
Yeah, so... negative skills are a thing. Nerscylla's armor comes with -10 points in Stun Res, activating the "skill" Double Stun. Which as the name suggests, doubles the amount of time that you stay stunned, and I don't think I have to explain why that's bad. -10 plus 10 is zero. So much for that Halve Stun you wanted so bad.
Not all skills have equivalent negative skills, but many armor pieces and most decos will have negative points. The challenge of set building comes from having to carefully balance and calculate your skill points, to make sure you're not accidentally charging into battle against Agnaktor while at -20 Fire Res. It can be frustrating if you're like me, and you've got swiss cheese for brains and can't handle the math. Fear not, I've got something amazing for you.
Allow me to introduce you to your new favorite website, Kiranico. This website hosts Monster Hunter databases containing literally everything that the games don't tell you, or do really half-ass job of telling you. That includes weapon upgrades, material drop rates, monster hitzones and health pools, and most importantly, armor sets and their respective skills. Being able to view all of this info all in one place makes it SO much easier to theorycraft new equipment sets.
Kiranico will save you from so much grief. Bookmark it and cherish it like your firstborn child.
Alas, no amount of Kiranico homework will make it easier to obtain the materials you want. The Desire Sensor is real, and it demands sacrifice.
7. The Desire Sensor (You Will Grind.)
It's commonly said that the game can sense exactly what you're grinding for, and will go to un-fucking-believable odds to avoid giving you that which you need most. This is the alleged "Desire Sensor."
Now, don't get me wrong, the newer games have moments like this, too. Don't even get me started about the 46 tries that it took me to get ONE Golden Almudron Orb, out of the TWO that I needed in Rise.
But until you get better gear, a single old school monster could take you 15+ minutes. Especially if you're on your own. Monster's health pools are not well scaled for solo players, so chances are, hunts are going to take way longer than usual if you don't resign yourself to getting tripped by a cheater with a longsword. Couple this with some god awful drop rates plus the disheartening quest rewards, and you're in for a loooooooong grind.
I would say you'll get used to it, but honestly, you won't. You'll get sick of it. You'll be shaking Kiranico by the metaphorical shoulders, desperate for any little thing that might speed up the grind. You might even be tempted to pick up a bowgun. Such a lapse in sanity is frightening, but it will pass. Stay strong.
Take breaks from the grind every now and then, or at least have two different grinds that you can switch back and forth between when you get exhausted of one. Since there is no escaping the Desire Sensor, this is unfortunately the only advice I can offer.
Disclaimer: the Desire Sensor is, as far as I'm aware, not a real mechanic programmed into the games. But godDAMN if it doesn't feel real. As anecdotal evidence, here's a small sample of my own suffering. Materials I wanted, the amount of them I wanted, their drop rates, and the sheer number of attempts it took to complete my goal (yes, I kept count.):
Lightning Sac x8 (G Rank Khezu): 15% chance to carve. 18% chance as quest reward. 27% chance as part break reward. HUNTS: 22
Paddock Cream x1 (G Rank Tetsucabra/Zamtrios): 40% chance to obtain two as subquest reward. 25% shiny drop. 25% chance as capture reward. 14% chance as quest reward. HUNTS: 8. I mean, what the fuck.
Monster Broth x5 (High Rank Insectoid Small Monster): 20% chance to carve. 20% shiny drop. SLAIN: >70
Viscous Radiant Mucus x17 (G Rank Nakarkos) 40% chance to gather; multiple gathering opportunities. 18% chance to obtain at least one as quest reward. 18% chance to obtain at least one as subquest reward. 15% chance per tentacle broken to obtain two. HUNTS: 15 (IT'S A 30+ MINUTE FIGHT SOLO. FML)
Was it worth it? Hell yeah! Do I think we should go back to the way things were in the old games? Fuck no! 46 Almudrons haunt me in my wildest nightmares— but at least I didn't feel my hair getting longer playing Rise.
On the bright side, at least the Desire Sensor has a sense of humor, if that last Khezu was anything to go by. Shout out to carving three lightning sacs in a row.
Phew! That about wraps things up.
Don't let this post deter you from trying out a "hard" Monster Hunter game. I don't regret my old school experiences. They've made me a much more patient and observant player, which weirdly enough, has carried over into other series I play, too. I can't say the same about any other game I've played in my life, and that's just one of many reasons why Monster Hunter holds such a special place in my heart.
I hope that by sharing my wisdom, I've saved at least one overwhelmed player a whole lot of headache. The rest is up to you, fellow hunter. Take it slow, and have fun!
Oh, and one more thing: press the dodge button while climbing in order to climb faster. Learned that one by accident 200 hours in.
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mamamittens · 10 months
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Major Tears of The Kingdom Spoilers while I act a sentimental fool and nerd with a "what if" scenario
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Okay, so I was thinking (oh God not again) about the Divine Beasts and the Light Dragon.
If you don't know about the deal with the Light Dragon yet and don't want to be spoiled, scroll away sweet summer child! Same goes for the final battle in Tears of the Kingdom!
So it really does bother me that the divine Beasts and the champions (baring Mipha) are just??? Gone??? Like, everyone acts like they never existed?!? And it's unclear if Link in ToTK went through BoTW cause so much of the landscape is different?!? The shrine of awakening is straight up gone, the ancient towers missing, and you don't have any of your shit but the horses?!? Why?!?!?
Like, Tulin (my precious baby who has done no wrong, ever) is referred to as the first Rito to create his own wind but like.... RIVALI DID THAT?!? Like, he had to be squat so maybe they mean in midair but still?!? And Yonobu has a slightly different ability from the shield, like he lost it or something?!? Why?!?
And the divine Beasts are totally gone, no one mentions them and it's not like they were small?!?
Where did they go?!?
Naturally, I had a fun idea for a little... Fixy fix.
Imagine if, when Hyrule Castle went up (again) and all that shit started up, the Divine Beasts were still parked right where they were when you defeated Calamity Ganon (maybe his spirit self and defeating the calamity is why hydrated Ganon has to hide his ass away under the castle on top of being bent over by Rauru for thousands of years--yeah I said what I said and I know exactly how that sounds.
But they didn't activate. They were totally silent while their respective people suffered. And because of that, the races assumed they'd been abandoned by their protectors (baring Mipha, who the Zora assumed she'd simply fulfilled her duty with the end of the Calamity and moved on). And that's why they don't talk about the champions aside from maybe a few hushed comments, a bit bitter that they'd been left to fend for themselves.
And as you fight the area's bosses, there is like, a midway point where suddenly the Divine Beasts jolts and fires a single attack, triggering the second stage before powering down again. When you beat the boss, the Divine Beasts shudder back online and trample over to the nearest chasm, diving in. Maybe a stray voice line from the previous champion about it not being over yet--referring to the round two fight below in the Depths.
And the Divine Beasts are understandably fucked up from the fall, eventually you find them near the boss area.
I thought it'd be cool if Vah Medo was partially frozen over by Colgera with one of the weak spots now over the engine and inaccessible to be hit, so it's left for last. And when you do go to try and bust it open, a sudden updraft sends you flying as it explodes, Ghost Rivali mocking you for needing his help. Beast defeated once and for all (the respawn is a normal variant), you receive the Rivali's Gale again accessed the same way as in BoTW so it doesn't mess with Tulin's Vow.
Vah Naboris is grounded, legs broken (RIP) and the Gibdo Queen almost sneaks up on you but a bolt stops her. Halfway part is the Queen lurching to his inside Naboris' chest cavity while shooting out spawns perhaps? And going in to kick ass until the health is gone triggers a cutscenes of Naboris powering up and electrocuting the shit outta here. Urbosa giving you her lighting attack, letting Riju's be a long range attack and Urbosa being close range area of effect.
Vah Rudania perhaps triggering a spray of lazers or trapping the Gohma? Maybe it skitters up a wall out of reach until Rudania skuttles over and slams it back down for a finishing blow before you're given the improved shield ability? Sounds neat to me, honestly.
Vah Ruta probably starts spraying water, giving the mud spots a time limit and perhaps slamming down the trunk when the Mucktorok tries to go inside to take over the Divine Beast? Finally, you get Mipha's ability again, requiring no button prompt.
They all have their cheeky little lines before stating that it's time they rest and let the Sages handle things from here.
As for the Light Dragon, you absolutely should have been able to tell at least Purah and Impa about Zelda. They both have no idea how to help but set up a station to observe her move through the sky, maybe tooling up towers for extra height to reach for additional research?!? And they decide to craft a gift to show Zelda that they believe in her and maybe see if there's truly nothing left--thats right, you make her a flower crown of Silent Princess's. Maybe with Champion fabric woven in alongside mini flags of the kingdoms, idk. And they're naturally upset when it appears to do nothing but produce a single tear.
This builds up to the boss battle where a cut scene plays just as Ganon takes off with Link. Purah and Impa turn their gaze to where Zelda previously was flying peacefully only to see her gunning towards Ganon.
"I-Is that?!?"
Sages might limp into frame, Riju and Tulin carried by Yonobu and Sidon, all beaten to hell and back but alive.
"It's her!"
And maybe the addition of the flower crown means you slowly heal while riding her to get a good vantage to kick Ganon's ass, idk.
Maybe she has the flower crown still when she turns back for extra points. Her bob braided with flowers and beads representing the crown in the end cutscene, the flower crown displayed in her study.
The Champions turn into Poes at the end, either drifting off as they finally move on or to be collected by link and given to the bargainer statues. Maybe for minis of the Divine Beasts with their Champions that'll be displayed in your house?! Or flags or something idk, something sweet and commemorative.
Anyway! That's just my thought for something that'd be really cool and sorta poetic. Really burying the past and letting it move on, perhaps with a few speeches from the different regions about the champions trusting them to handle hardships on their own now, giving the task of defending the realm to a new generation.
Or maybe I'm full of shit, idk. But I do gotta go to bed, so there's that 🤭
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muthaz-rapapa · 10 months
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Losing not one but two children she's known for years.
Losing that young boy she contracted with not because he went crazy for power but because he did everything out of love for an innocent girl who was abused to the point that she was almost beyond saving.
It's too hard knowing how hopeless Momo must've felt about this plan, how much she must've hated its outcome yet couldn't do anything to go against it because one, if she actually did have control over the book she guarded, she would've been too powerful. That's why limiters have been put in place to prevent her from breaking the rules lest she wrecked the world for the sake of her own bias. Otherwise, Akiho and Kaito never would've gone through all that suffering in the first place because Momo wouldn't have allowed it to happen.
And two, because in the end, she had no choice to but to agree with Kaito that they were always going to put Akiho's safety before anything else. Akiho didn't have anything to defend herself from that artifact planted inside her. So the only method they could grab that was within their reach was to switch Akiho out and have someone take her place, eventually losing Kaito.
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Then, Akiho wakes up with a whole new history inserted into her head, absolutely no clue about what they both did to preserve her life and enjoying a superficial "happy ending".
Akiho doesn't remember the precious bunny who's been with her since she was just a baby. She doesn't even remember there used to be a person she loved very much, more than anything in the world.
It's no wonder why Momo is not shown by Akiho's side despite there being nothing to stop her from doing so. She likely chose to stay by Kaito, not just to protect him while he's probably in a coma but also because she can't bear to look at Akiho who is only half her true self.
This is not her Akiho. This is not the Akiho that Momo knows. The Akiho who despite all the unfair treatment she received, still found the strength to overcome her pain and keep her pure heart and compassion.
This Akiho is just her surface personality but her real substance is hidden somewhere until the spell of this "happy ending" wears off.
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So Momo has to wait, has to wait for all the fail-safes they put in place to activate. The ones that can finally lead Akiho to remember her true past, her love and the only person who can ever make her feel that way.
But there was no telling when that might happen. By the looks of it, weeks have already passed since the Exchange was carried out. Maybe even one or two months by the time Record played this message Momo left in that room. So there's a possibility it could've taken even longer if they weren't so lucky that Sakura managed to talk with Lilie in a dream and sensed the remains of the leftover card shortly afterwards.
Still, this is the only time Momo is shown post-Exchange and it isn't even her real self. It's a recording of her and she still doesn't show up after its playback is done.
She is still patiently, loyally, waiting by Kaito''s side somewhere. She will not go to Akiho, she's waiting for Akiho to come to them. No matter how long it takes or how painful it is to wait for that day to come, Momo chose to believe in Akiho. That Akiho will eventually go to reclaim her true self.
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Honestly, it goes without saying that this "happy ending" was never going to last either. The clues (including Kaito's pocket watch) that got left behind and the discrepancies (like the pain in Akiho's heart when she felt like there was something missing, that essentially being her muscle memory that wasn't affected by the rewrite) would have triggered its undoing.
It's been proven before that spells can be broken (Kaito's silencing spell, the two "Alice"s remembering who they really are in Clockland) so this is just another case of that.
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Moreover, narratively, this "ending" is very incomplete and leaves a bad taste in the mouth. Because even though everybody and their dog can attest with confidence that Akiho will never be mistreated in the Kinomoto household, the care she's receiving is based more on principle than anything. A principle that is based on the rewrite of their actual memories.
It's akin to showing warm hospitality to a guest and less like true familial love that runs deeper.
Akiho deserves that. Not this façade where she's constantly being viewed as part of a twin set with another person. She deserves to be acknowledged as her own separate individual.
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After all she's been through, she should be with people who not only know and accept her entire past but truly comprehend from a similar place how hard it was for her to survive it. People who will know the right words to say specifically to her, who understand how hard it's always going to be for her to remember...but something she's never going to forget because those scars are a part of her. Her sorrow, loneliness, all those darker sides that also make her who she is today.
Nobody else but Kaito and Momo know that Akiho.
And that's why she can never be happy with just "being happy", just being safe with half herself.
No one can be complete by denying the less than perfect aspects of themselves.
You must embrace every part of you to know how whole you really are.
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That said, I can understand why Kaito went as far as he did.
With what few ways there were available for him to make use in his situation, too.
It would've been enough to switch his watch for the artifact and then put Akiho in a non-magical family. It didn't have to be the Kinomoto family. He didn't have to alter everyone's memories to make them believe Akiho was born as Sakura's twin.
Another kind family would've been just a good as long as they could provide Akiho with a normal life.
But as spells can break under any circumstances, he wasn't willing to risk that chance of Akiho being in danger again, especially when he wasn't going to be there to protect her.
Should the rewrite become undone somehow, Akiho's clan and the Association will remember who it really was they planted the artifact in and come after Akiho to reclaim her. Possibly even retry the experiment again on her since they failed the first time because Kaito foiled their plans.
That's why he installed her in the Kinomoto house where there would be sufficient protection should that occur. Where there was at least one person (Sakura) who was capable and willing to defend Akiho no matter what.
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Nothing about his plan was ever impulsive. Impulsive does not include forethought. Impulsive is acting on the spur of the moment, on reckless behavior or emotions that overtake logical thinking.
Everything he did, he did it meticulously so that there would be no weak spots where Akiho's safety was concerned.
Nobody else could've accomplished this task but him.
Taking Akiho under his protection to escape from a society that sees them as nothing more than tools. Needing to constantly fend off attacks from those magicians, always having guns aimed at his back while on the run. Having to hide all these terrible truths from Akiho for years so that she could grow up in comfort and security and learn to smile without worrying.
Throwing a giant net and luring a young and powerful yet dangerously untrained magician into his trap despite being outnumbered by her group, despite his health rapidly failing him the more he used time magic, and STILL managing to outsmart every single one of them and succeed in his goal.
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All for the sake of saving Akiho who means more to him than anything, including his very own existence.
Nobody loves her more than he does so nobody would've been able to go as far as he did for her either. Nobody could've given their everything for her like he did.
That is why only Kaito could ever save Akiho.
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fairyofthestar · 2 years
Text
puppy princess
word count: less than 1k
genre: fem!reader, pining, unrequited love, not a happy ending
requested by: anon
(poor second lead beomgyu)
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you know me as your boyfriend's goofy friend i seem to have this effect on women and your friends aren't as goofy as i am
soobin was beomgyu's best friend. if the entire world suddenly turned against him, he was sure that soobin would be the only person who would stay by his side no matter what.
he has done exactly that since the first day they met in daycare center. someone tried to snatch away poor baby beomgyu's toy truck and soobin was there to tell the other kid to back off.
being attached to the hip since then, they've witnessed the achievements and know the stories of all the first times of the other, yet one that beomgyu wished he never knew was soobin's first girlfriend.
the moment he saw you walk through the doors of a nearby cafe one summer day, beomgyu knew that he was a goner. he couldn't take his gaze off of your flowy hair, vibrant glow, and eyes filled with starlight. he thought he had found the one until you approached him and soobin's table, soobin standing up to plant a kiss on your cheek.
ah, so you were soobin's girlfriend.
beomgyu tried his best to make the first meeting as comfortable as possible, pretending as if a whole future with you didn't already flash through his mind. it worked. you found him incredibly funny since his humor was right up your alley.
beomgyu was glad that he managed to act like his usual self that morning, yet he was in turmoil as he tossed and turned in his bed that night, trying so hard not to think about you. 'it's just a silly crush. it will be gone by tomorrow,' he thought to himself.
'cause i feel weak in your hands and your feet a precious end, i'll never feel your touch
beomgyu didn't know what was wrong with him. 
it's been months since he first met you and he couldn't forget about his stupid crush on you. in fact, it only became worse. he felt like such a douchebag, pining over his best friend's girlfriend like this. yes, he was keeping his distance and knew his limits, yet he couldn't stop himself from thinking about how he should be the one holding your hand or greeting you with a kiss on the cheek the way that soobin does.
he would find his eyes lingering on you longer than he should, trying to memorize each and every detail on your face. he has stared at you long enough to notice a few unconscious habits of yours. he wonders if soobin has noticed them too.
when soobin runs a bit late during lunch, beomgyu would have this fantasy in his head where you would confess that you never liked soobin as much as you thought you did. he imagined that you would tell him that you liked him the moment that you saw him. he imagined that you would press your lips on him and he would let out a sigh in the kiss, relieved over the fact that he could finally hold you the way he wanted to and he could finally taste those lips that would keep him up at night.
but fantasies are fantasies for a reason.
it was hard for him. he thought it was unfair that he was the unlucky guy to suffer such fate. he saw you everyday since you were always latching on to soobin and he could only make a few excuses as to not look like he was actively avoiding being with soobin—being with you. 
he hated how magnetic you were, how a single smile from you would make his entire day brighter, especially when he was the reason for your smile.
so what if he would try harder in acting goofier than usual when he knew your eyes were on him and so what if he had a list of jokes in his phone that he would review every night? no one knew about his intentions except him, and the reward of hearing your contagious laugh was all worth it. 
it was the only way he could get your attention without having to break any relationships and friendships since everyone knew that choi beomgyu was that one person who would try hard in making someone laugh, even when he himself was suffering inside.
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☆ taglist: @nyangjjunie @ifwtyun @peachy-yabbay @soobpricity @mystiicturtle
☆ if you want to be in my taglist, please tell me in my asks !!
☆ requests are open !!
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starryjeekies · 1 year
Note
E’last reaction catching you masturbating
A/N: gonna format this like the other e'last asks that I have, seems to work best for larger groups so I'm not running out of ideas >< I now have a plethora of 18+ e'last content so hopefully my adult e'last lovers will enjoy ^^
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Rano:
Wouldn't even say this man would catch you, he would probably be the one to ask you to touch yourself right in front of him. You two were probably making out when you started to tail your hand down. He would notice and immediately pull away. Going to stand up from the bed to watch as you tease yourself, him commanding you to go faster or slower, where and how to touch you. He gets a huge rise from it, feeling his ego inflate.
"That's a good baby, keep going."
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Choi In:
He is sickeningly sweet and I love it. He would come over to your apartment to surprise you with some flowers just because. He wouldn't see you in your living room or your kitchen so he would head over to your bedroom. With the door cracked, he can see you trying to get off. Watching as you whimper lightly to chase a high was preciously pathetic to him. When he steps in, there's his precious smile that has a slight twist to it.
"Would you like some help or shall I just watch you be pretty?"
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Seungyeop:
It would probably happen in the morning after a night together. He would get up because he doesn't feel you next to him anymore and decide to start his morning routine too. Neither of you cared if the other was in the bathroom while one of you was in the shower, but hearing you moaning completely changed how he does his morning routine.
"Defeats the purpose of a shower, doesn't it?"
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Baekgyeul:
You hadn't been intimate with Baekgyeul yet, wanting to take things together slow. Part of coping with taking things slow has been getting yourself off before he comes over so you don't want to jump his bones. But he ends up coming over sooner than you think. When he casually walks up to your bedroom to find where you were, he connects his eyes straight to yours and his face is a tomato. He's shocked, but he clears his throat after a few moments.
"I could help you, if you wouldn't mind..."
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Romin:
He would probably pick it up when he's on the phone with you. It's late and you're talking about your day. His voice is already tired and grumbly and sexy. You can't help but start to play with your nipples before you crave more. He can hear the change in your voice and picks up very quickly what's going on. He starts to talk longer and make slight groans at the end of his words just to give a bit of an edge.
"Baby, why are you so breathless? What are you doing on the other end of the line?"
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Wonhyuk:
Definitely was an accident, you had wanted to wait for him to come home from practice but ended up starting to get bored. You had scrolled through social media, tidied up his room a bit, so now you're laid out on his bed with your hands down your pants. You didn't hear the boys come in, but when the door opens and your purple haired boyfriend walks in, both of you are stunned. He'll walk in fully after a moment, close and lock the door, then try to bring his cool persona back even though inside he's freaking out.
"So, I guess you missed me, huh?"
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Wonjun:
You boyfriend being on tour made you suffer. Not only did you miss him but you missed the sex. He made you feel so good and with him away, you could only do so much. What you didn't know was he came back a few hours earlier than you anticipated and he came to surprise you. It was definitely a surprise to see you sprawled out on your bed, two orgasm in chasing a third with your legs shaking. He knows he was gone for a while but you look pathetic.
"Honey, you look so desperate. Want me to make you feel good?"
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Yejun:
It was night time and your boyfriend was already asleep. For some reason, though, your body decided to fire off signals that you craved attention. To help satiate it, your hand moves over your underwear to try and get some relief. You try to keep your breathing even and not wriggle around in bed as much. but you're surprised when your hand is replaced with your boyfriends. Yejun's large fingers start to make you feel good as a gasp leaves your lips. His eyes are squinted open and a lazy smile is on his lips.
"You weren't as quiet as you thought you were, your wetness gave it away."
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tenthousandislands · 11 months
Text
May 2023
Essay (But More of a Poem) on Grief
“Grief” is a word whose definition belongs to the person who experiences it. There is no one way to characterize it. Dictionaries equate grief with sorrow, anguish, distress and suffering, especially following the death of a loved one. Psychologists describe grief as the process through which a person adjusts to life after loss, consisting of the famed five stages - denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. I define grief as a state of being. Grief is a point in time when the person I was prior to my loss ceased to be, and everything I thought I knew about life was called into question. Grief is a life sentence I serve, shackled to a nagging sense of dread, a sinking feeling of emptiness, an intolerable air of injustice that I cannot shake no matter how much time passes, and even on my best days. Grief is a revolving door of sensations that arise without warning and assume control over my body - suddenly, my lungs struggle to draw in air as if from beneath a crushing weight, my mouth opens to speak but finds no words, my limbs feel at once fragile as if they might shatter and at the same time too heavy to lift. Grief is a sound that escapes my lips on rare occasions, from depths I didn’t know existed within me, and if such a sound has never made itself heard in you, you might not recognize it as human. Grief is not an emotion that comes and goes, or an experience with a beginning and an end. Grief is a thread woven into the fabric of my existence, so much has it become a part of me.
Grief is a lens through which I have come to see the world. Often, as I actively participate in creating a moment that will become a precious memory, I begin the process of grieving happy times past even before the moment has ended, because I am acutely aware that it will. Grief is reveling in the scent and softness of my baby’s skin for a minute longer, because I can’t let myself forget that he will soon be grown up. Grief is a shadow cast on past and present, and stretches as far into the future as I can see - photographs transformed into relics of what’s been lost, or what I am bound to lose; choices made based on what experiences I deem most likely to become cherished or regretted when I reflect on them one day in the future; the ever-present awareness that a life that was, is no longer, and a future that should have been, will never be.
Grief is a ripple that begins at the point of loss and travels outward until it encircles every aspect of my life. Milestones are no longer just milestones, joyous events are not only celebrations, and even mundane everyday occurrences take on a new significance, which is the palpable void that now exists within every one of them. Grief is not only feeling the empty space left behind by someone who lived and is now gone, but also carrying with me the ghost of dreams and visions I had for a future with a person who is no longer here to take part in it. Grief is feeling betrayed by a sun stubborn enough to continue to rise despite the darkness I feel inside, and a world that continues to turn when it feels like a crime to go on in the absence of someone I once believed I could never live without. Grief ebbs and flows as far as the attention it demands, but even when it recedes into the background, living with grief is like walking through a field of landmines - it takes only a small trigger to release an explosion of crippling emotion. What starts out as simple frustration or disappointment ignites a chain reaction that ends with a deluge of the heaviest waves of anger and sadness washing over me.
Grief is a wall that separates me from the people who surround me. No matter how much they love and support me, there is a chasm between us that can never be bridged. My grief cannot be translated into a language they can understand. They are all too aware that their sincerest desires and efforts to comfort me can never come close to easing the eternal pain of my loss. I am all too aware that their lives moved on long ago in a way that mine never will. Respecting grief involves acceptance and acknowledgement of this fact on both the part of the mourner and the comforter, and that may be our closest point of connection.
There is plenty of talk about the stages of grief, how they are more like phases in a cycle than a linear set of steps, and that the intensity of grief diminishes with the passage of time although it never fully disappears. No one tells you, however, how grief can fundamentally change the way that you experience yourself and relate to the world around you. Grief has expanded my perspective, deepened my appreciation for life, challenged my beliefs, and taught me so many valuable lessons. One of the greatest, perhaps, is that holding on to the pain and suffering does not tether a dead person to life, but rather chains a living person to death. I once felt that accepting my loss and learning to feel happiness again was the equivalent of abandoning or choosing to forget my lost loved one, and that denying the reality of death and refusing to be consoled was a way to keep my loved one close to me. The truth is the opposite - as I am learning to walk hand in hand with my grief, I am beginning to feel my loved one walking beside me again. As I integrate my grief into who I am becoming, and accept that it is to be my lifetime companion, it is becoming easier to feel the presence of my loved one alongside me. And the more I allow my grief to live within me, the more my loved one lives within me, too.
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skippyv20 · 2 years
Text
Our Prayer List🙏🏻❤️❤️❤️❤️
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Prayers and good thoughts for the disabled children left in institutions by caregivers who have fled. Prayers for all as they struggle.
Prayers and good thoughts for our dear friend who is in horrible pain caused by a pinched nerve in her should, and extreme pain in her hip.
  Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s BIL’s family.  Their father is at end of life stage, and the family is fractured. 
 Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s friends who are mourning the loss of their daughters.  One family is mourning the loss of their 11 yr old to liver failure.  The other family mourns the loss of their 20 yr old daughter by a freak sporting accident.  Please include the towns and county who mourn with them.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s father with Parkinson’s.  He and her mother are off to the beach!  Praying for them to have a wonderful time.🙂 
 Prayers and good thoughts to bring home little five yr old Frank who is missing…they are still searching.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s daughter and grandchildren age 3 yrs and 18 months.  Her daughter makes too much money for government assistance.  She can’t afford therapy for both.  Our friend helps her as much as she can, but they need help.  They need a miracle.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who is seeking help.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend being tested for kidney cancer, and her husband being tested for prostrate cancer.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who is suffering from heart failure, and feeling so poorly.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s godmother and family.  Her son passed away unexpectedly from cancer.  Prayers for the family for their loss.  
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s friend, K and K’s daughter who is battling alcoholism.   We pray for K to realize how badly she needs help before it is too late.  We pray to Saint Monica to intercede on her behalf.     Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who needs to find a home as soon as possible.   Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who suffers from bouts of depression, and is feeling alone.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend, who has a very personal, embarrassing problem that has tormented her for her whole life. She needs for it to be gone once and for all.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who has had knee surgery and is having complications.  She is feeling overwhelmed and scared.
Prayers and good thoughts for our little 9 yr old Novenas boy who has had a bone marrow transplant and is having some complications.  He is a fighter, but he and his family could really use prayers to help them through the tougher days. (Prayers and good thoughts for our 9 yr old Novenas boy.  He has had his bone marrow surgery  recently.  We pray for his quick recovery, that the surgery was a success, and that he will have a great prognosis.)
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who is having a bad week, and needs prayers to help her through it.
Prayers and good thoughts for Richard, who is recovering well, but still struggles with speech.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s friend’s daughter, Sonia who  has a brain tumor and prepping for surgery. Another friend, Eva, is getting a divorce and is having serious financial problems.  Also, our friend may be asked to pay back her unemployment benefits even though she was completely honest in her application.  She has been out of work for a few years.   She is so desperate to find a job.   Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who had Covid a few weeks ago & haven't felt right since. Her doctors say she has Long Covid Symptoms! She suffers from anxiety, depression, insomnia and panic attacks.   Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s precious Penny fur baby.  Penny had one treatment and it went well.  Praying for her complete recovery, two more treatments to go.  Prayers for her family as well.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s 18 month old granddaughter Allie, who is very, very sick fighting a skin disease in the hospital. Dr's think she had some type of autoimmune disease & will be battling skin problems her whole life! Dr's have put her on some type of cancer medicine to see if that will give her some relief
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s father who had surgery for a displaced hip, and is recovering.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who is has surgery for bilateral mastectomy, and is recovering.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s 18 year old daughter who is healing and taking steps forward.  She is still struggling.
Prayers and good thoughts for Carol.  Carol is very overwhelmed by life’s trials.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s cousin who has 4 children, and has terminal cancer.
Prayers and good thoughts for our 8 month old Novenas boy who has had a bone marrow transplant.  Praying for his complete healing and quick recovery.  Praying for him to have a long, healthy, happy life.  Prayers for his family.
Prayers and good thoughts for our Novenas Baby James,  He is doing well and has two bottom teeth.  We pray for his ongoing health Prayers for his family.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who is estranged from her daughter.  Our friend is overwhelmed with worry.  Praying they will reconcile.  Prayers for our friend to be kept safe from falling on ice during bad days.
Prayers and good thoughts for Baby James’ “heart” brother William.  He has had surgery and is now recovering, we pray for him to stay strong. He is doing well. We pray for his family.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend whose mother has pancreatic cancer once again.  It is terminal.  Praying for peace, comfort and for all the family to feel God’s loving presence.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s husband from our Novenas, who is battling pancreatic cancer.  He is just out of the hospital.  He is not worse, so that is a blessing.    His 7yr old son is having a hard time.  
Prayers and good thoughts for our dear friend little m who is mourning the loss of her beloved husband, and she is feeling weak & quite tired.  He was her caregiver as well.  We pray for God to place earth angels on her path, to ease her burdens as she moves forward.  
Prayers and good thoughts for the Queen who has had such a trying year, and the future looks like it will be very trying for her as well.
Prayer and good thoughts for our friend’s friend.  She has just had surgery to remove cancer from her arm, but is too ill to have skin graft. Now her cancer is returning and she will need another op or radiotherapy. She has underlying health conditions and her husband has Alzheimers.
Prayers and good thoughts for all who suffer from alcoholism.  Prayers and good thoughts for their families and friends watching their loved ones suffer.  Saint Monica please intercede on their behalf.
Prayers and good thoughts for all who have Covid.  We pray for God to touch them with his loving healing hands, and restore them back to good health.  We pray that they will not have long term effects
Prayers and good thoughts for all that have not had Covid, that we stay safe and Covid free.
Prayers and good thoughts for all who serve the public in all capacities, to be kept safe and out of harm’s way.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend.  We are praying she doesn’t have a relapse, and can go forward in good health.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend and her family. She lives in Russia but are innocents.  
Prayers and good thoughts for all who are suffering life trauma for circumstances that have arisen due to Covid and restrictions.   There is so much pain people are dealing with.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s husband who had bowel surgery.  Prayers for his ongoing healing and more energy.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s son still dealing with depression, doing better, but still need prayers for strength.
Prayers and good thoughts for Hunnymae who is mourning the loss of her precious sweet furbaby...dear Hunny Mae
Prayers and good thoughts for our dear friend Storm who is struggling with life’s trials.  Praying for her burdens to be lifted.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend Finding the Way Anon and her family who are going through many trials right now.  Praying for their burdens to be lifted.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend PG.
Prayers and good thoughts for all suffering from mental illness and their families that suffer with them.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s friend in Kyiv and her family
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s 5 yr old son who has speech delay/echolalia.  Our friend is quite sure he has ADHD , but am now worried that the echolalia means she needs to consider ASD as well.  Also, please pray for our friend as she is so stressed.
If I left anyone out, please let me know…if there are updates or corrections required…please let me know….
God Bless you and thank you for joining us in prayers and good thoughts…🙏🏻❤️❤️❤️❤️
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jdgo51 · 1 year
Text
The Day When Hope Was Born
Today's devotion is written by Tim Challies, author of Seasons of Sorrow
"The tree is trimmed and decorated and glowing with lights. The gifts are wrapped and tied with bows and arranged carefully beneath. The stockings are hung by the fire and bulging with trinkets and surprises and sweet delicacies. The table is set and waiting for a great feast to be laid out upon it. Christmas has come again — again with all its joys, with all its pleasures, with all its precious traditions.
But look again, look more carefully, look and see that there are fewer gifts than there were in years past. There is one less stocking than there was before. The table has been set with one less place. When the family gathers to celebrate this year, there will be one member who will not be gathering with the rest, one person who will not be home for Christmas, one person who will be sorely missed.
This will be the reality for so many families this season, so many families who have had to bid farewell to one of their own. And never do those losses stand out so starkly, never do they cut so deep, never do they cause so much pain as during the holidays, as during times of celebration. For holidays are about gathering with the ones we love, spending time with the ones God has given us, observing the season together.
This will be the reality for my family this Christmas, for just a couple of years ago, the Lord saw fit to call one of us to himself. My son Nick was seemingly healthy and well, thriving in life and preparing himself for marriage and pastoral ministry, when he very suddenly collapsed and died and was gone. Christmas has never been the same. Christmas never will be the same, never can be the same, for our little fellowship has been shattered, our little family has suffered a grievous loss, our little home circle has been broken.
My mind sometimes drifts back to the evening we learned the news that broke our hearts and changed our lives. My mind sometimes drifts back to the thought that flashed through it in that moment when my entire world was rocked: God knows what it is to have a son and God knows what it is to lose a son. And this thought reminds me today that even though Christmas is the day when the pain of my loss is particularly sharp, it is also the day when my hope is particularly strong. For without Christmas I would be despondent, but because of Christmas, I have the greatest of all hopes.
Christ had to be born for us.
The wonder of the Christian faith, the miracle that we celebrate every Christmas, is that God became man. The Son of God who had existed from all eternity, the God who had been present at the creation of the world, the God who holds together all things by the word of His power, took on flesh and was born as a weak, helpless, crying baby. He grew up surrounded by the chaos and sin of this world, He proclaimed the glorious message God had given Him, and at the end of it all, He was crucified and died. The Father witnessed the death of His beloved Son.
But that is not the whole story, of course, for death could not hold Him! Death could not keep back the One who lived a sinless life and died an atoning death. He left the tomb and ascended to Heaven and now prepares a place for each of us who have loved Him and believed in His name and received His forgiveness.
In order to save us, Christ had to die for us. And in order to die for us, Christ had to live for us. And in order to live for us, Christ had to be born for us.
It is at Christmas that we tell the beginning of the story of His incarnation, at Christmas that we celebrate His birth, at Christmas that we mark the dawning of hope. For when Christ was born on Christmas morning, hope was born with Him — the hope that our loved ones are not lost forever, but merely separated for us from a time, the hope that though we may grieve for a while, sorrow will at last give way to a joy beyond all we’ve known or even imagined. Our hope and our confidence is rooted and grounded in this day.
I wish Nick could be in our home this year to celebrate Christmas with us. But I know God has called him to a different home, a higher home, what I know to be a better home. And if Nick is experiencing nothing but happiness, as I truly believe he is, why would I spend the day in nothing but sadness? Why should I mourn as he rejoices? And so as we gather to celebrate Christmas, we’ll pause for at least a time to turn our hearts away from this home and instead fix them on the home above, the home where there is a much greater celebration, the home where Nick dwells with his Savior. We will fix our hearts on the time when all our tears will be dried and the time when the circle that has been broken will be fully and finally restored. And then we will return to celebrating the wonder of that baby in a manger, for this is the day when He was born — the day when hope was born."
Written for Devotionals Daily by Tim Challies, author of Seasons of Sorrow.
0 notes
muffindaddystyles · 3 years
Note
OMG I LOVE DOM H THATS INLY SOFT FOR HIS SUB BUT WHEN THEIR BRATTY HE GOES FULL DOM MODE
MELTS AND BOILS OUT OF HORNINESS
Y/N was more of cuddly and clingy tonight.
Wanting nothing but to hide herself in Harry’s chest pawing at his well-built hips with a huff through her nose to be more closer to him, all of it because of his sweet praising for her's while he took her pictures in his phone before leaving for this party he wanted her to be his date— maybe a simple companion she doesn’t know yet where they stand.
She looked too angelic in a baby pink satin slip dress for him not to smother her face in careful dotting kisses and grumbled in feign offend when she pushed him away with her small hand and giggled shyly.
“Y'gonna say no to daddy, Angel?” His daunting tut, blew her pupils into surprise and she rolled her eyes and went to swat his bicep, while her lower abdomen sparkled and tingled with excitement and delight. He likes to play all sweet and precious, but underneath that tentative and “’M putty in my Angels palm,” gooey exterior’s a wicked, mischievous little sneak and satan who likes to see her suffer, basking in the sputtery and fiddly reactions of hers.
Especially in public. Oh he loves it, when he’s intentionally grazing his warm lips against her earlobe to whisper how she’s so good for daddy, darting his tongue out to wet his lips and tease her. He liked taking her out on expensive fancy restaurants and be a filthy prat with his words without a shame making her knees knock into tables, gets her all warm and pink with his little plays like kissing her fingertips one by one and slipping them slowly into his mouth, kissing the dribbles of ice-cream from her chin and murmur hotly against her cupid bow, “Hmm. Your peach’s sweeter, moppet.” to feel her squeeze onto his hand that holds her all the time, always having a hand on the small of her back and raking it impossibly low only to get her all squirmy and bashful for him, barking out a laugh when she squeals for he slip it inside her bottoms and snapped them playfully.
He loves to rouse her and make her dip into the haziness, then has an audacity to sharpen a finger at her and grunt at her, “Behave.” When she copied his vicious actions back.
Saying this, he was back to chatting his friends and call Y/N bratty how much you want but the impulsive yearn that was bubbling in her tummy skunked over with jealousy, so she chose the better option. To infuriate and arouse him with her risky little play-tactics, in hope he might drag her away and push her into the nearest washroom and tell her to suck onto daddy’s cock— then swat her hands away harshly and fuck her little watery mouth himself.
So. When she tried to be as sly as possible pretending to drop something on the ground and then bent to have her ass, clad in silk lacies peeking for him teasingly. Harry noticeably gets a bit disgruntled, adjusting himself in trousers and shifting to yank her back to pull her against his chest with a displeased frown.
This time he didn’t tell her to behave making her pout awfully whiny up at him and getting her even more frustrated by smiling down at her as if nothing happened.
Though, the smile’s one of the sinister pressed jaw bbreakin-ly to stop him from gritting his teeth and land a hard stingy slap to her bum right infront of everyone.
Y/N stomps her feet which indeed gains his attention but he chooses to ignore it, wrapping his arm around her waist to keep her closer to his side without even sparing a glance down at her.
Alas. Y/N has waved white flags of defeat considering no-amount of teasing and battiness would break his resolve – one the many things she’s envious of him in their little escapade of naughtiness, is Harry got a hellish of self-control, no wonder that’s one of the reasons he’s her dom.
“Where y'going?” He asks through a smile that was gleamed at his childhood bestfriend and not Y/N, she gulps down the lump of bitterness down her throat–- tone high-pitched in her mumble from the unbelievable achiness between her thighs and all she wants to do’s claim him hers, with deep red bites at his sweet pulse and the front of his throat’s bump.
She has no-idea in the flying fuck, what she’s stammering about, “Ni. Ma–. . . maybe he’ll be a better dom than you.” Ouch. Harry’s veins boils with spleen and indescribable outrage, his face sculptures into a fierce indignation–- out of his realization staring down at her blankly.
For a moment though Y/N feels an immense guilt pour down her head like cold icy water, cause all he’s been to her is sweet and caring telling her how precious she’s for him and how he’s gonna make love to her once they come back home.
She tends to say rubbish in her floatiness but never she has ever doubted him and her eyes gets all swimy, hands rushing up to cradle his face not caring if there’s a gathering around them – though she retreats when he doesn’t let her and to play nice with him has become a none to never option, atleast for tonight when he sets his eyes back on his friend, Y/N’s shoulders slump and shrugs; her head perks up immediately after when he’s bidding them byes and her inners fill with excitement and anticipation to just go home.
. . .
Her panties pools with arousal when he spreads his thighs apart, patting his meaty flesh with a skewered annoyance, “On daddy’s lap, bum out,” With gleeful little nod she’s stumbling her way towards him and he’s not pawing at her hips to lay her down and shove her face into the mattress, keeping his hands to himself quite for a moment before pondering if it’s the right punishment seeing how her panties are already twisted, she shrinks into herself at his cold demeanour wiggling a little to adjust.
Don’t get her wrong. She loves having him gentle and sweet and tentative, pressed so tight she could feel each lull and thump of his heart. Feeling him crush her under his weight with each thrust of his’s overwhelming each of her pores with so much love for him—- sometimes she imagines him to be rough with her, when he grabs and holds and bite her to leave her sore and whiny next day. Pinning her thighs roughly and fucks into her so fast and hard and deep .. god so deep she feels him in her tummy and her pussy swallows down onto him wetly.
He bunches her dress up her spine, strokes her cheek lovingly, plucking at her waistband and touches the soft supple skin then realizes how and why they ended up here.
Her body relaxes into him, nuzzling her nose into his knee and thinks he changed his mind and is out of fumes, will now fuck her nice and warm until a very, disrupting startling swat to her bum makes her gasp and she jerks against his bicep that’s holding her place in now, “Tha’ hurt!” She whined, pouting even though he couldn’t see it because his hold’s firm on her and if it stung didn’t mean she wants to stop him – it’s sparking the tingles in her pit wanting for more.
“’S supposed to,” He grabs onto her hand that tries to reach behind and rub the sting away, “Knows why you’re gettin’ punished right?” He doesn’t wait for her short nod and gives another firm slap to her right cheek and she feels it jiggling under his calloused palm.
“Words!” He growls, she feels small and little in his lap and she’s loving it – knowing he’d immediately stop if she’d accentuate any discomfort, “Was mean. Teased daddy and ...” She mewls when he kneads her blushed skin and clucks his tongue at her, something so dominating and domineering about him in a way she wants to obey him and listen to him quite oddly now after so much wreck havoc—- her noise strangling inside herself out of embarrassment and utter shyness; that she hurt him.
“...and daddy doesn’t likes to be teased.” He says derisively, blunt nails scratching her thighs to raise goosebumps on her skin.
“Ought to teach ya a lesson, didn’t I? You’d be still a filthy brat if it wouldn’t hurt.” He slithers his long fingers under her chin and grabs it, makes her look up at him– giving a light slap to her parted lips when she refuses to look him in eyes.
She's puckering her spit coated lips to suck his digits in her mouth and shallow her cheeks around them, grousing when he removes them out of her reach and she melts into his palm when he gives her two more spanks one after another between her asscheeks quick and hard and rolls his thumb painfully closer to where her little hole is clenching.
Might, in other cases, he'd have cooed at her and caressed her bottom, murmuring, “Such a soft little thing,” and “Moppet y'did so good for daddy,”
“Turn over.” He elevates her with his knee, rocking her on his bulge teasingly and loops his arm around her waist to finally help her up.
The sea foam glazed eyes peering down at her with such intensity makes Y/N chase for his lips eagerly and she cries out when he backs away, “Daddy no ...” Her complain is dropping to a low whimper as Harry strokes his thumb over her bottom pouty lip, creaming her panties and pricking the balloon of exhilaration in her tummy -- she’s a bit upset he hasn’t called her pet names at all and he still thinks she’s bad and hasn’t learned her lesson.
She did! She’s good!
“Maybe if you weren’t so mean,” He cups her bum, breath hitching for a moment when she hisses, lifts her up and glides her panties down, “I would’ve eat your cute pussy out earlier.” He utters, nose burrowing in her neck when she tries to get rid of the panties to be good for him, “Perhaps only really good girls gets their peach eaten . . ‘cos they really deserve it, dunno?”
Her head bows against his chest, feeling unexpectedly too small and disheartened as she murmurs kittenishly clutching his sides and blinking up at him in desperation with glossy lashes, “’M good daddy. Aren’t I?” He let a small smile tick his dimples which went unnoticed by her, of how much haziness and subbiness she has gone under.
He sponges his lips to her collarbones, a whimper scrapes from her throat from where her hands are pressed to the seam of his slacks, while he leans back undoing his buttons.
His cock twitches and akin to it his face warm pink and happy at the noises she creates once he’s out and he grasps her wrists and tugs her forward, “I’m your good girl.” She takes a huge weepy sigh leaning herself to get his cock inside her without seeming bad— because she wants to be good and she’s needy and achy at the same time.
“Your sore and stingy bum would say otherwise, Bunny.” He grins, and a groan rattles in his chest when he swipes his fingers up her folds to inspect her and she’s dripping thickly.
“Fuck. Sucha tight pretty hole f'me.” He murmurs. Helps himself ease inside wet, tight hole and holds himself from making both of them flop back into sheets when she fits around him velvety and snug, his balls pressed to her bum.
She goes to loop her elbows around his neck to smush herself into him and to muffle any inhumane noises she’ll create-- too afraid she’d sob out for being in such a vulnerable state, rather, he hooks his fingers around her wrists securely and holds them behind her spine.
“Bounce on my cock, Bunny.” He orders and she mewls, realizing he isn’t done with her and knows she tires herself too early whilst ridding him and ends up grouching and huffing.
She complies. Feeling herself stuffier and stuffier, she soaks his cock utterly slick with each of his throb inside her and she always loves how he gets more stiff once inside her like it’s the best place he wants to be in and she gazes with hooded eyes to where she has created the slide for him easier, as her pussy squelches around him with his each buck and rough thrust.
“Aah! Ah!” She cries, nibbling onto the fading love-mark on his neck when he slips his hand between their bodies to roll her clit, “Yes, yes. Right there daddy!” He tips her chin to wrap his mouth around her swollen bitten lip and suckles on it murmuring.
“Here yeah? Is daddy’s cock nice and big, hitting your spot good, fuckin’ my baby’s spots good.”
She pouts up at him, chest heaving from all her work and he brushes her hair behind, “Apologise fo’ being naughty and you might get to cum,” She wastes no time, body stretching in arched bow with his slam of hips into her.
“I’m sorry, for being naughty and misbehaving!” She blubbers slumping onto his chest.
He pats her bum, groping it to help her fuck her cunt down his heavy prick and he whispers gutturally in her ear, “Keep going bunny. I could feel ye' pussy squeezin' me s'bloody tight.” He fucks her sloppily circling her sensitive nub twice, thrice until she’s gushing all over him in a heavenly manner thrashing in his arms and not able to screw down any moans and noises.
His own orgasm follows her. Pouring her hole with a heavy cum-load and his grip from around her wrists loosens up, falling on his sides and crinkling the sheets while he stuffs his nose into her shoulder hill thighs jerking under her.
They stay, like that for some seconds, covered in sheen and possibly eachother’s sweat— his recovery was too livid he didn’t heard soft sniffles against his cheek and his chest immediately suffocates up when he draws Y/N away to be met by her glassy drunk pink eyes, lower lip wobbling awfully sad.
“Daddy I’m sorry, I’m bad, I’m so sorry daddy —...” Her jumbled apologies gets lost into her violent sob that knocks her chest and she gasps, bursting wide pupils locked to Harry’s panicked ones and he quickly cradles her face shaking his head furiously, “No baby. You’re my good girl, me best girl.” His tone honest and loving and adoring.
“No! I hurt you ....” She trembles, hiding her face into her elbow and Harry pulls it away, he moulds both of his palms against her teary warm cheeks and lulls her face with all of the endearment he holds for her in his heart.
“I didn’t mean it daddy, promise.” She sulks, fear swimming in her eyes shattering Harry’s heart into infinite pieces and he scolds himself for it, terrified he went too harsh with her, “I know bunny. I know."
“Now come back to me, Angel. Harry misses you. Wanna have me Angel bac—...” Her babbling takes over his coaxing and she hiccups, head a mess of vivid thoughts and doubts, “I got jealous, don’t like it when you look at your friends the same way y'do to me,” He wasn’t. He could never see someone in the same light and same affection and adoration he sees his lovie, since, she was gone under the foam of dizziness too much and neglected of his attention it seemed like that to her and Harry’s beating himself for making her feel like it.
“I...I know, shouldn’t. ‘M sorry, but I love you so much daddy . . .” More tears springs and falls from her eyes. Her crying confession leaves Harry appalled and shocked, butterflies swarming in his tummy and his hands stays limp on her side before he ponders that’d make her over-think he doesn’t wants to touch her so he instantly rubs his hands up and down her arms, mouth guppies many time to stutter out something.
They hadn’t exchanged ‘I love yous' yet. He knew they’d. He wanted it be when they’d be all cuddled and he’s pecking her all where and making love to her, not when she barely knows about her presence and is too floaty to have her feet on ground.
“I love you too. I love you too, so much baby, fuck.” He presses his forehead to hers, nosing her softly and gently and then smashes his lips against hers in a deep humming kiss instead of answering when she blinks up at him startled asking, “You do,” So innocently that Harry had to kiss his love and feel the taste of sex on her mouth and suckle on her tongue to drive her mind away from deprecating herself.
“Wanna have my Angel, back. Please? Pretty please?”
“No more mad?”
“Could never be, you my baby.”
“Can I keep you inside me for sometime? I’ll be good.” She murmurs sleepily, Harry wraps his arms around her and snuggles her into his chest, “My cock’s all yours pretty girl.” He soothes her back. Waiting patiently for her breathing pattern to go back to normal.
“Thank you.” Her voice sobering up, cracking the cocoon of fog where his Y/N rests and the moment she’d be out, he’s gonna kiss her love for him out of her lips.
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merakiui · 2 years
Note
We've talked about yans and them reacting to pregnant darlings, but how do you think yan venti, xiao and childe would interact with their baby once its born? Would they see the baby as some type of bargaining tool to keep darling in check and with them?
(cw: yandere, pregnancy, manipulative/unhealthy behaviors)
Venti is overjoyed when your child is welcomed into the world. He’s already wanting to hold them in his arms and look upon their adorable face. He never thought he’d experience something like this, but he’s happy that it’s with you. Whenever you start to misbehave or show signs of wanting to escape or run away, he’ll use classic emotional manipulation to convince you to stay. If you left, he’d be so heartbroken. And have you even thought about the baby? What happens when you leave and the baby grows up without a mother? Will you truly let that happen? If you aren’t going to stay for him, at least stay for the baby’s sake. It’s the least you could do. Words are a weapon he wields with ease, twisting them in ways that make you feel even more guilty than before.
And if you aren’t so easily swayed by his manipulation? He’ll find other ways to keep you by his side. A good bargain has always been Venti’s way of life. He’ll often play music in exchange for drinks or apples. So giving you anything you ask for, even if it’s something like a few days without having to see him, is fine as long as you promise to stay.
He’s his usual bubbly self, always so positive and enthusiastic as he helps you with the baby. He’ll sing them all sorts of lullabies, and sometimes he’ll even fall asleep with them resting beside him on the bed. Venti is surprisingly good at raising a child, despite what you initially thought. He’s even willing to put aside his love of drinking in order to focus on being a father and a good lover. It’s because you deserve only the best and he’s here to show you that he truly cares for you and the baby. It’s not just a silly dream he’s chasing after. It’s something he wants to share with you for many years to come. You might disagree with his methods of achieving that dream, but what matters most is that your child is being raised wonderfully. They’re a bundle of sunshine whenever Venti’s around! And you should be, too.
After all, he wants this to be a happy relationship! He’ll do all that he can to ensure it remains that way.
Xiao is…not used to this. At all. He’s out of his element. Raising a child is not one of his skills, so it’s really just trial and error with him. What do you mean it’s not right to hold his child after he’s just finished slaughtering a group of monsters? What do you mean he can’t poke them and hope they’ll fall asleep after that? What do you mean he actually has to put in the effort to care for them? Children really are a huge commitment… But as gloomy as he may be, he isn’t going to give up.
He’ll do his best to educate himself on how to raise a child. For a while he’s very awkward about everything. It took him a while before he felt comfortable holding your child, as he was worried his touch may corrupt them. He’s gone through so much pain and suffering that he fears his child might somehow be affected if they spend enough time with him. Obviously that won’t happen and you’ll have to assure him that everything will be okay. Xiao wants a happy life and a stable family with you, so he really does try his best when it comes to caring for the baby. He never once uses them as a bargaining chip because the baby is just too precious in his eyes. It’s a small life that could easily be crushed, so he’ll protect them with his life.
Xiao doesn’t need to manipulate you or make foolish deals in order to get you to stay and comply. You already know he can’t raise a child by himself, and it’s worrying to imagine how he’d be able to care for the baby if you ever managed to leave him. He might just end up neglecting them because he’s too busy searching for you… In the end, you choose to stay for the baby’s sake. As soon as they’re old enough, you’ll consider an escape. Until then, you’re raising a baby alongside a very inexperienced Xiao.
Childe is so ready to help you with the baby! He’s the perfect candidate for a father. Hasn’t he proven this to you with how he cares for his younger siblings? He’s a family man at heart and will raise your child in such a happy, fluffy environment. They deserve only the best, so he’s willing to do most of the work if you aren’t up to it. Although he wishes you wouldn’t shun him and the baby. You’re a mother now and he was hoping you’d come around to your new responsibilities. He understands that all of this may seem like a lot and that raising a child can be overwhelming, but he’s here to help you! You can rely on him.
It’s one of the only times when he’s genuine. No calculations or secret plans. It’s just him, you, and the baby! He’ll wait however long it takes for you to be comfortable with all of this. Childe dedicates lots of time to raising the baby and consoling you whenever you’re on the verge of falling back into postpartum depression. He’s here for you, so you have nothing to worry about. He displays a crazy amount of patience and softness when it comes to dealing with you and the baby. This change in his normally sadistic behavior has only become more fuel to your growing unease and anxiety.
You’ll know soon enough when he starts insinuating certain things. What will you do if something happens to the baby and he’s not around to help? Could you live with yourself if you were the cause of an innocent child’s death? Do you know what might happen if you leave your baby in order to escape him—to escape what feels like a permanent game of House? It’s not like he’d actually hurt your baby—that’s the last thing he’d do! No, he treasures them too much to lay a hand upon them. But this is Childe and you can never be sure. He’s capable of anything when he puts his mind to it, so you’re fearful of what he might do—of who he might bring ruin to—if you ever try to leave. It might not be your baby he hurts, but it could be your friends or family. It could even be you.
And you know that he has the resources and influence to hurt them in more ways than one. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay. You have no choice but to do just that. It’s too dangerous to even think of an escape, especially not when your child is only a few months old and is so vulnerable. You’ll submit to the role of mother if it means you can keep yourself and those around you safe. You must if you want to keep Childe pleased.
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alasse-earfalas · 2 years
Text
(response to this post by @ihaveabsolutelynoideas)
[cracks knuckles] Ohh there are so many things I want to say to this.
First, a disclaimer: these are fictional characters in a fictional setting that has no bearing on anything. I get that. But debates can be fun and I’ve got plenty of fuel for this fire, so imma let it burn. No hard feelings toward the OP. ‘Kay? ‘Kay.
Now then.
First of all, I completely understand where Four is coming from. He’s thinking in line with the OP, and it’s a logical, rational train of thought. Twilight is stressed. Twilight is fighting for his life. The last thing he needs right now is to worry about Wild, or any of the others, and Wild bursting in with his current demeanor would be a terrible idea.
However.
This entire argument rests upon the assumption that Wild is in control of his emotional state. He’s not. I know that sounds like a poor excuse, but I’m speaking both from personal experience as well as what I’ve learned about human psychology over the years. Does trauma excuse terrible actions? No, of course not. Does trauma need to be met with caring and compassion? Yes. The traumatized person is still a person. People who do bad things are still people. Wild is not so far gone that he can’t be talked down. Yelling at him that he abandoned the others—even if true—is not the way to go about it. Not right now. Wild is hurting. He’s scared. Way more than the rest of them; so much so that it’s clouding his judgement. And no one is addressing that.
What does Twilight need? Twilight needs Wild to calm down, because if Wild doesn’t calm down, he will find a way to get to Twilight, and it won’t be pretty. Four is not de-escalating the situation, he’s escalating it. He’s making things worse. He’s not comforting Wild, he’s scolding him. Four is expecting Wild to respond to this situation like the rest of the Links would. But Wild’s friendship with Twilight is different.
Yes Four and the other Links have a friendship with Twilight, even a close friendship, but saying their friendship is comparable to Wild’s is laughably inaccurate. Time is the only one who has any clout here because his relationship with Twilight is as deep as Wild’s. Twilight isn’t just a good friend to either of them: he’s family. He’s precious. In Wild’s case, he’s all Wild has. It’s a depth of friendship that goes far beyond what the other Links feel for him. You cannot reasonably expect them to respond the same.
Time and Wild are at two ends of the spectrum: Time has given up (or is very near giving up), and Wild is refusing to let go. Time lets go too soon because he always expects a parting. Wild clutches for dear life because he can’t bear the thought of losing anyone else. Both are natural responses to the traumas they’ve suffered. Wild’s is just more problematic to this situation.
Feelings can’t be “fixed later” if they are causing problems in the moment. Wild’s feelings are going to pose a real problem to Twilight if they aren’t addressed and handled properly. Wild is far past the point of being able to deal with his emotions on his own, and Four is not helping the situation. Wild doesn’t need his emotions coddled because “aw poor baby”, he needs real help working through his panic so he doesn’t make things worse.
As I mentioned at the start, it’s understandable that Four would react this way, because he’s expecting Wild to react like how the other Links would. That doesn’t make him right in what he’s doing. Four is viewing Wild as a problem, not as a person. And that is going to, at the very least, break trust if not backfire spectacularly and bring about the very scenario of Wild bursting in on Twilight that Four is trying so desperately to avoid.
I have my ideas on how this situation should be handled, but ultimately I just want to wait for future updates to see where Jojo takes things. The fact that this fandom can have such in-depth discussions about what’s happening is a testament to the quality of the writing.
That is all, I think. Take care everyone.
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cowboycakes · 3 years
Text
Do You Get My Letters
✥ Pairing: Levi x fem!Reader, somewhat Reiner x fem!Reader
✥ Themes: Fluff, angst, sadness, big ass plot twist
✥ Warnings: Female bodied reader (she/her pronouns,) Pregnancy and birth (nothing gory.) Mentions of death, violence, and threats. Manipulation.
✥ Synopsis: You are carrying Reiner's baby when he betrays Paradis. Levi decides to step in.
✥ Word Count: 2.2k
(there is a part two up to this fic, but i've decided i'm going to rewrite the ending at some point.)
Anon's Request: Hi! I saw your requests are open so here I want to give my little scenario a try! 🕳🤸🏽‍♀️ I thought abt this last night, I’m currently rewatching AOT after 6 yrs and yet to finish season 4, so sorry if I’m wrong abt timelines/the plot? My request is the reader was with child with Reiner, but b4 reader told him, he betrayed and exposed his mission. Levi stepped in to help reader. And btw, I just finished watching ep 3 of season 4, so maybe Eren telling reiner abt his child and he regrets leaving the reader? And reiner jealous at the fact Levi is most likely considered his child’s father at that point. I can’t come up with an ending, so I’ll leave it up to you if you do take in my request. If this isn’t your type of writing I totally understand!
Note: This story is canon divergent. It is set in season 4, but in a universe where Reiner is not revealed as a traitor/the armored titan until a few months before season 4 takes place, as the reader was having relations with him until then and did not know his secret. I’m sorry if that change bothers you, I just wanted to write this as sort of its own story. This story contains season 4 spoilers! It also has nothing to do with the canon ending of AOT.
---
Dear Reiner,
I hope this letter somehow gets to you, I don’t quite know where to start.
In a perfect world, I would be so happy to tell you this. You’d be ecstatic too, I think. And before you try to second guess me: I’m sure by now, don’t worry.
I’m pregnant.
I guess we weren’t careful enough before you left. I feel like an idiot. And lost. But I’m not hopeless. I know myself, I can make it work somehow. With or without you.
I’m still in shock about you. How could someone so close hide so much? You’re a talented spy I suppose, a great asset to Marley. You made me trust you with my entire life. You made me love every false thing about you. And this is the rude awakening I get in return.
I’ll raise our child to value honesty and kindness, all in spite of you.
Sincerely,
Reader
---
The paper was damp with tears after you lifted your pen for a final time. You wished you could just keep the whole thing a secret: go make a quiet life for yourself somewhere else. It wouldn’t be right. Not after all of the dishonesty that man had spewed to you over the past few years. You had to tell him.
The door to the office room you’d settled in to write the letter creaks open. It’s Levi. He looks at your puffy eyes somberly, sympathetic. He was the first person you had told about the entire situation. Not because you were close, just because you needed help.
You fold your letter and stick it into a sturdy envelope. Levi takes it in his hand.
“That piece of shit doesn’t deserve a thing from you. Not a letter. Certainly not tears,” Levi says, using a clean handkerchief to wipe a stray drop from your cheek, “but I am proud of you.”
You take the handkerchief from him, feeling more tears stream down your face.
“Proud? I’m a fucking idiot,” you say through your sobs.
“Don’t even try to pull that self pity shit with me. Things happen sometimes. And you’re strong enough to commit to getting through it,” he responds.
You stand up, pushing your chair out. You look at him as you dry your face off again.
“I’m alone. How the hell am I supposed to do this shit alone?”
“You are not alone,” Levi replies. You’re shocked when he pulls you into a hug. “I’m going to help.”
You had never seen this side of him before. You look at him as you pull away slowly, tears still welled in your eyes.
“Are you sure? That's a big burden, Levi. None of this has to involve you.”
“Not the biggest burden I’ve ever taken on,” he shrugs. “There’s a lot of death around here, Y/N. Everyone is going to be happy about the little bit of life you’re giving us.”
You chuckle. He’s cynical, but he’s right.
He licks the envelope as he walks toward the door.
“Want me to run you a hot bath or something? Is that the type of shit pregnant people need?” he asks.
You laugh, a little harder than normal. It felt so relieving to laugh.
“Sure, Captain,” you respond softly.
---
Dear Reader,
I received your letter before the battle in Marley. I actually got to hand it to Reiner myself. He knows everything now. He broke down in front of me after reading it, going on about how much he regrets everything. How he wishes he could change things and be there for you. He begged me to kill him right there.
The world will eventually not have suffering like what you are going through now.
Eren Jaeger
---
Your jaw had dropped reading it. He begged me to kill him.
You hand the letter Levi had just delivered back to him. He reads it with a furrowed brow.
“Do you think…” you begin, your voice shaky, “do you think I could send another letter?”
Levi purses his lips, “Possibly. I can ask Jaeger. But right now, you need to bring your blood pressure back down.”
You were over seven months along now. You had found out about your pregnancy late, after being in denial for four whole months. Hange insisted on checking you out after you’d thrown up every morning for a week.
Levi had since gone on a parenting book reading spree; he made you read several of them too. He knew just about everything you needed to do to make a healthy baby: what to eat, what not to eat, how to exercise, when to go to the doctor, etc. It was really sweet how much he cared. You knew it gave him hope, something to fight for, something to come home to.
You were terrified when he left for Marley. You kissed him for the first time when he returned. Just about everyone you knew had to fight. You wished you could be out there fighting with them like you were supposed to. Maybe you could have made a difference.
Levi takes your hand, squeezing it to bring you out of your thoughts.
“What can I do?” he asks.
“Get me a glass of wine,” you grumble.
“Absolutely not.”
---
Dear Reiner,
Reader does not know I’m sending this. So keep it that way, or I’ll kill your sorry ass. Or maybe not, you’d probably enjoy that. In that case I’ll get creative.
How does it feel? Being a fucking deadbeat? Is it everything you’d thought it’d be and more? Fucking her and leaving her with nothing, like she belongs in a whorehouse. Reminds me of what happened to my mother. Pieces of shit like you came in and sent her to her death, leaving her kid behind to starve.
I wasn’t about to let her suffer like my mother did. But you were. I’m glad your choices haunt you, Reiner. You fucking deserve it.
I’ll be there for the both of them from now on, doing everything you were never capable of. She’s due any day now, I’m sure she’ll try to write to you.
Levi
---
You feel your first contraction while napping on the couch with Levi. You were settled in between his legs, your back leaning up against his chest. He had his hands on your stomach; he loved to feel the baby kick and tell them some of the happier stories in his memories.
The two of you had grown so close over the past few months. You slept together every night now. You didn’t want to leave each other’s sides if you didn’t have to. Levi would cuddle and massage you any time your pregnant body was ailing you.
You had fantasized with him about life after the war. He wanted to be a husband, a father, to live peacefully in the countryside. And he wanted more than anything for you to join him.
The first contraction wasn’t painful enough for you to make much more than a grunting noise, but Levi woke up the second he felt your stomach contort a bit. He was on very high alert these days.
“Holy… shit…is that what I think it is?” Levi whispers, “Don’t answer. I’m getting Hange.”
He crawls out from behind you and sprints out of the room.
The pain worsens and becomes much more frequent while he’s out looking for Hange. You stand up eventually after getting the urge to walk around - and your water breaks. You start panicking, unsure of how dilated you were and how much time you had left before pushing. You really wished you’d done more than just skimmed through those birthing books right about now.
Levi and Hange eventually come sprinting back into the room with a wheelchair and cold rags to find you whimpering in pain on the couch, trying your best to control your breathing.
You’re rushed down the halls to the Scout’s infirmary, where Levi had made sure the perfect room was set up for you - and it had been that way for two months.
The next hour goes by in a blur. Hange knew the biology of how to deliver the baby, and Levi knew how to coach you. He helped you hold your legs back when you pushed, and helped you count out your breathing. Hange attended to everything that might have made Levi faint, like checking your dilation and making sure the baby was coming out at the right angle. You got lucky having these two by your side.
Through all of your efforts, you finally hear a cry. You look up to see Levi holding your tiny new baby as Hange wiped them clean. He was smiling, way bigger than you’d ever seen him smile before, with tears in his eyes.
“Here,” he says softly, handing her to you.
You cradle her on your bare skin. “She’s so perfect, Levi! Look how sweet she is!” you coo.
“What are you going to call her?” he asks, stroking your hair as you gleam down at your baby.
“I was thinking,” you smile, “Kuchel.”
Levi lets out small gasp. Tears start streaming down his face, his efforts to stifle them failing.
“Really? I think that’s,” he wipes his eyes, “a wonderful name.”
—-
Dear Reiner,
She’s finally here! Oh my god, she’s precious. Levi and Hange helped to deliver her. Labor went smoothly. Levi started to cry when he saw her for the first time. She really is just that perfect. We are calling her Kuchel, after Levi’s mother. He cried when I told him that, too (don’t tell him I’m sharing those crying details.) I've decided to give her Levi’s last name as well.
Levi set up the perfect nursery for us.
If you really did feel guilty for leaving - don’t be. I’m happy.
She has your eyes.
Sincerely,
Reader
—-
Dear Reiner,
Kuchel said her first word today. Of course it wasn’t mama, she’s such a daddy’s girl. She started crawling awhile ago, we are now working on standing up on our own. She has all of this blonde curly hair, too. She’s growing up so fast.
Reader
—-
Dear Reiner,
Levi proposed a few days ago. It was so perfect. We found a nice house with room for a farm that will be perfect for a family.
I can only wonder how you’re doing, now that the war is over.
Are you even alive?
Reader
—-
Dear Reiner,
I’m expecting again. Levi is beyond excited. I am too, of course. Kuchel started school this year. She is such a smart kid.
I still wonder about you. After all these years.
Reader
—-
Message after message, word after word. No response. You had decided he must be dead. The devastation after the war would argue that he was.
That is, until you found yourself rummaging through one of Levi’s desk drawers, looking for baby Isabel’s lost pacifier.
You felt the bottom of the drawer shift. A false bottom?
You pry at it until it comes open.
Letters.
Dozens of opened letters. With Marleyan postage stamps.
You pull out the first bundle you see. They’re all from you. Unopened. Unsent. You set them aside, your jaw quivering.
You pull out the second bundle and gasp.
—-
Dear Reader,
Eren showed me your letter. I am terribly sorry. Let me fix this, somehow. You can come to live with me in Marley. I will take care of you. Please.
I’m not just a traitor, a liar, a farce. Everything between us was real. I can explain everything. Just trust me.
Love,
Reiner
Dear Reader,
Do you get my letters?
I’ve only heard rumors about our new baby girl. I wish I could see her. Just once. For a second. Do you have a camera? I know they’re hard to come by in Paradis. I can send one.
I’d do anything to change this. You know I would.
Love,
Reiner
—-
To Levi,
You son of a bitch. I know exactly what you’re doing. You think this is protecting her, but it’s not. Just let her talk to me. She would listen, she would understand. You said yourself that she writes. You manipulative, sick bastard. That is MY child. She will never be yours. No matter what you brainwash her to believe, your dirty Ackerman blood does not run through her veins. She deserves to know. You are the farce, Levi.
Reiner
—-
There were dozens more. All opened. All from Reiner.
You sink down to the floor, tears spilling from your eyes.
You are the farce, Levi.
But, why? He was just protecting you, right?
The office door opens. You jump, shoving the letters back into the drawer.
“Mommy, why are you crying?” Kuchel asks.
You take a deep breath, staring down at the letters, thinking about everything that could have been.
“Are you happy here, Kuchel?”
“Yes!” she chirps, “Every day!”
“Then it’s nothing, baby. Mommy just got hurt. She’s better now.”
Your daughter giggles and skips out of the room, leaving you to hide away the rest of the letters.
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I REALLY HOPE I understood your request, Anon! I actually had a lot of fun writing this. It isn't something I would normally think to write, but I'm so glad you shared this idea! Sorry for the sad ending, I love playing w people's emotions ;)
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