#and having no one to share this burden with

[mythalism]

wow they sure gave us one hell of a reversal to this huh

i saw ppl saying they don't like how she gets on her knees for him but honestly that is just such a misread of this moment to me and i am actually so obsessed with it. i get why upon first glance it could seem submissive and weird because of the power dynamic that existed between them in inquisition and the fact that he is a god, and i agree that it would have been weird any other time, but the context in general and the nature of their relationship in this moment is so different from the one they shared 8 years ago, it has been flipped completely on his head.

he had to kneel down to her level in trespasser to bring balance to their dynamic as he revealed the extent of the power differential and the guilt he carried for enabling it. he had complete power over her in that moment, he had lured her there in the first place, he had just turned someone to stone in front of her eyes, he outmatched her in terms of knowledge, power, age, understanding, magic ability. he was the reason for the anchor that was debilitating her and he was the only one who could stop it from killing her. kneeling to meet her on the ground where she writhed in the pain that he caused her brought them as back into balance as possible for just a moment. he had to get down on his knees to kiss her one last time as solas, before standing up and walking away to be fen'harel.

this is truly the inverse of that. we have never seen him like this. we have never seen him bent over like this when his name literally means to "stand tall". and it is not lavellan who gets him to this state in the first place, but mythal as she releases him from a burden he has carried for thousands of years.

he is absolutely powerless in this moment. he is not fen'harel or a god. he did not lure these people here to set a trap for them. he is not at all in control of this situation. if anything, he is the one trapped and being forced to face something he could not bring himself to face for thousands and thousands of years; mythal. she is the one in power here, and though her words are kind and her intention to free him is noble, notice that she does not make any sort of attempt to get onto his level, to look him in the eye. she looks down upon him as she releases him, and then she disappears.

i know a lot of people are also upset at some of the parallels drawn between lavellan and mythal, but honestly i think this moment puts all of them to rest. they are not parallel but opposite, and their dynamic with solas is completely different. while mythal puts him in this almost disturbingly submissive state that is so at odds with what we have seen of him ever, she is the god here, unapologetically, and him the man at her mercy. by contrast, lavellan sees his agony and does not hesitate to get on her knees before him. not in any act that implies any sort of submission or supplication, or to encourage any sort of mortal x god power dynamic, but so that she can see his face and look him in the eye as she reminds him of her love for him. she equalizes herself before him in his moment of powerlessness and vulnerability the same way he did when he knelt to kiss her goodbye as he took the anchor in trespasser.

and it is lavellan addressing him this way and her words that give him the strength to stand up tall again. it is also the final push to abandon his goal, as she tells him the only thing that is inevitable is their love.

he tells her in the unsent love letter we get in the codex how badly he wanted to be with her as just solas. we learn from his memories and their conversation earlier in this scene that mythal made him into fen'harel. the body language in this scene is the perfect visual representation of that dynamic. her kneeling to look at him is such a powerful act of love and support in a moment where he was so painfully vulnerable, and it reflects his own willingness to kneel for her eight years earlier as she found herself in a similar state. he is at her mercy, with his fate lying in her hands. kneeling before him and looking into his eyes rights the balance between them that was just so disturbingly thrown off by mythal. it is reciprocal rather than submissive. it says, "you are hurting, but i am with you". it reminds him of who he is, allows him to stand tall.

genuinely 10/10 i will never be over this

no because actually i don’t think we talk enough about how solas gets on his knees in the trespasser finale with a romanced lavellan. his name literally means pride. he EMBODIES pride. but his name also literally means “to stand tall”. HIS NAME MEANS TO STAND TALL. god of rebellion. and he is on his knees cradling her face and telling her he’s sorry. i have to go walk into traffic

[ridingtorohan]

Armin, Jean, Eren and Mikasa overhearing

their crush saying "why would I tell them that I like them? I can't compete with (Annie/Mikasa/Eren)".

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Content Warning: Self-loathing under Armin's section.

Armin's brain completely stutters to a stop the moment he overhears it, his ribs feeling like they might concave at the slightest moment. He's overwhelmed and flustered, unable to look you in the eyes for the days to come, regardless if you knew he overheard or not. Stewing in it comes easy; talking to you about it is another.

Ever since the Scouts reclaimed Shiganshina, he's been plagued with self doubt. With feeling inadequate and so much self loathing that it's hard to put the pieces back together. Talking to Annie wasn't anything important to him- not like you were.

He was visiting Annie's crystal because he felt flawed, a mistake. A part of him ached to be needed, to satisfy that part of him that wanted to justify what they did to her. That thought: if Annie could be salvaged, couldn't he? That he wasn't a monster because of what happened.

With you it was different; he could express his fears and vulnerabilities. No one else had seen this side to him; the drive to be better, who saw him at his lowest and drove him to excel. Annie was an ideal, a ghost that he couldn't chase.

You? You were real. You, who fought alongside him, helped him to his feet, metaphorically and possibly physically. The way you held yourself, interacted with him. How could he not admire you? Like you?

What did he do to make you think this way? That you weren't so utterly important to him?

Armin tends to be more withdrawn with you around since he overheard that comment, trying to find the right words to say. Bravery comes not from the brain, as they say.

"I like you too!" He exclaims one day, red-faced and stumbling over his words as he tries to make them come out. Strategy planning is easy; risking people is a burden he can handle. But risking you?

Armin stampers through a confession that he heard you that day. But he's earnest, heart on his sleeve because it's only ever belonged to you.

"I didn't like her that way at all! I've only liked you, and, if you're - wanting to, we could-" He stammers through his sentences, getting utterly redfaced and earnest as he tries to find the right words to say. Later, it'll be easier when he's not pouring his heart out, but he knows you deserve to know. That maybe he deserves this too.

Him? You like Jean? Those overheard words don't really process through Jean's mind quickly enough as he passes by the room you're in.

It's a lot to unpack, mostly because you didn't want to tell him.

His words simmer in his throat. He thinks he can push this down; smother it like he's done so many other things. A part of him thinks it should die like that - after all, you didn't plan to say anything. Didn't think he was worth it, to share that secret with.

But he lives with regrets - Marco - not shooting -- but also not living up to the life that he wants. That he knows he deserves.

It's sprung on you, later, when the two of you are filling up gas cylinders.

"I'm not in love with Mikasa." They're heavy words met with silence but he means them, eyes downcast as his hands idle. The silence is damning but you're worth it. By the Walls, you've always been worth it. "And I never have been. I liked her before, but." He gives a slight roll of his shoulders, trying to find the right words.

But he isn't a coward and he doesn't want to waste time, especially knowing that you feel the same way. Looking up, his eyes dart from you, to the wall and back again. "You can't compare to her." And, that sounds so much worse when he says it so he grabs tightly onto your arm, forcing your eyes to meet. "Fuck, I mean, you're not competing with her. Alright?"

He makes a sound, torn between a sigh and a groan as he runs his hands through his hair. "I heard what you said, before, about - You're not her, and I don't want you to be. I'd never choose her over you. I love you." It's not quite what he meant to say but the words fall easily, readily. "And dammit, I really wish you'd choose me too."

Mikasa is, unfortunately, standing behind you when those words leave your lips. When you inevitably turn to face her, there's no hint of what she's thinking visible on her face. Her cool eyes never leave you even when one of the captains walk in to deliver another mission.

Outwardly, everything she does seems to come off as a rejection; she doesn't talk to you about it, doesn't treat you differently. If one considers less and less talk as 'not any different'.

Not talking to you though... it feels like a small candle sputtering out - and her hands burn beneath the wax.

She's... not sure how to process any of that at all. She'd always been so concerned with Eren, with Armin and helping them accomplish their lifelong dreams. She never really took a moment to dwell in her own thoughts.

Her thoughts on Eren were chaotic at best; clouded by their game of tug-of-war, always trying to mother him, protect him. Getting shunned for it. She never had to do that with you - not to the same extent, anyway.

Hearing you say those words - "I like her" -- it's putting a name to the face she'd seen in her mind. Like. Affection. A warmth in her chest whenever she saw you, accompanied with a low and simmering trust. How easy it was, for once, to look at someone and have them look right back, and see her for who she is.

She only mentions it, much later, when you're both assigned to a practice mission. Where only time and the sun overhead is your company, forced to wait idle until a new command is issued.

"I want to talk about what you said," is how she begins. "About liking me." Her hands move to her scarf, something raw wedged in her chest that makes her feel so vulnerable with her face bared. Instead, her fingers loosen and it remains still around her neck. She wants you to see her as she is, what she's offering you.

"Eren is... like family to me. I would do anything for him." It's a brutal, almost cold way that she says those words. She means it, and you mean a lot to her, so she doesn't want any confusion.

"But you are not Eren. You are not family to me and I don't want you to be. You're important to me too. I don't want you to see me as your sister or protector." Her grey eyes search yours, searching for any kind of sign. "I like you too."

Eren has the most physical reaction. Shoulders locking, back straightening and all but sprinting as he rushes up to you. "What!" His mouth is running hot and fast, not able to get the words out fast enough.

Eren is a man of action; thinking things through wasn't his strong suit, nor did it ever have to be. But Mikasa? Mikasa!? Out of everyone? The girl who he grew up with, routinely tried to shield him from everything? Frustration rises hot in his throat as he thinks - didn't you know him at all?

How could he ever like Mikasa when there was you? You who defended him, humoured his ideals, cheered him on during his training, didn't see him for the monster he thought he was.

Weaving between cadets, racing as fast as he can to you, he knows he has to put his foot down. He's tired of all the secrets and lies, and he certainly doesn't want any between the two of you. Not when it's something like this.

"I don't like her!" Each word is punctuated loud and fast, trying to squash that idea as quickly as it came. Why did everybody always think that? He's gestulating, trying to get you to look at him, ignoring how your confidants stare at him. "Mikasa is -" His face scrunches up, harsh words on his tongue, resentful but not towards you. You've never treated him as fragile or incapable. How could he ever think of her that way when you filled that spot?

"We're not like that at all!" He adds, promising himself that he'll explain it in a calmer discussion later. "I wanted you!"

[gabessquishytum]

Feeling very annoyed about my joint pain right now so what better way to deal with it than projecting my problems onto Dream?

So Dream is hypermobile, and he's been dating Hob for a little while. With Hob, he doesn't feel like he complains too much, he doesn't feel like he's a burden. He doesn't feel like he has to hide the pain and frustration he has to deal with because of his body. As a child he was often told that he was faking injury to get out of doing things he didn't want to do. Often he was told just to exercise more. As he got older, he was told that he was giving up on himself and that he should just push though the pain (despite the fact that when you're hypermobile, sometimes pushing though the pain now means needing joint replacements in the future). But with Hob, his problems are always taken seriously, his pain is believed and he's never infantilized for it. Hob isn't disgusted by his body doing weird things, his reaction to Dream hyperextending something on purpose isn't "put that away that's gross" it's "you'll regret that tomorrow"

Dream has definitely subluxed his jaw while giving Hob blow jobs before. After, because you know Dream wouldn't stop sex for something as trivial as a subluxation, Hob heats up a rice bag and massages Dream's face.

On his bad days, sometimes Hob will stay home from work just to comfort and be there for him. It's care like he's known from no other person ever in his life and he almost certainly cries about how lucky he is (usually in Hob's arms) at least once a week

Idk where exactly I'm going with this. But I'm just spinning the concept of hypermobile!Dream getting comfort and acceptance from Hob in my head. Just Dream getting the comfort I wish I had in my life.

Oh anon, joint pain is so horrible. I'm sorry you're going through it. I'm also in the hypermobile club, so I feel you. I really do.

Dream finds it hard to accept that this will be his life forever, you know? There's no cure for his condition, only management. He spent a lot of time pretending that there was nothing wrong, and ended up hurting himself. He has so many regrets... but knowing that he also gets to spend the rest of his life with Hob makes it almost bearable. Hob has slowly adjusted their shared home to be hypermobile-friendly, putting in all the accommodations that Dream has denied himself over the years: a bath chair, perching stools in the kitchen, banisters on the staircases, even a wedge for their bed so Dream can prop himself up when he's feeling bad enough to be bedbound.

Hob knows Dream’s body better than his own. When Dream hyperextends his knees, Hob is the one to notice and give him a gentle nudge. When he's standing and hanging off his joints and straining them, Hob grabs him a chair so he can sit down instead. When he needs his ring splints, it's usually Hob who fetches and puts them on for him. Dream often feels like a burden, but Hob tries to explain that all of these things aren't chores for him. They're just intuitive, easy acts of love. Hob WANTS to be Dream’s support.

Sex is a lot easier with Hob than it ever was with past partners. There's k-tape and splints and joint braces, which Hob treats with the same reverence he'd usually save for lingerie. Dream, naked, clad only in wrist splints and k-tape, is the most beautiful thing in the world to Hob. Cause he knows that Dream isn't going to get hurt while they make wild and glorious love.

They've definitely had wheelchair sex. Hob has knelt between Dream’s slightly spread legs and sucked his cock. Fortunately the brakes were on, or Dream might have gone rolling across the room from the force of his orgasm. Hob is very good with his mouth.

All in all: life is really really hard, but it's also good. And Hob makes it all worth it by being there and being himself. Dream couldn't love him any more if he tried.

[leighsartworks216]

My Heart Will Always Belong To You

Zayne x gn!Reader

I've been working on another Zayne fic that I've been grappling with because I feel like it may be out of character for him to do some stuff + I just don't know how to continue it, so in the meantime here's something that I needed to write for my own sanity

Warnings: established relationship, fluff, domestic fluff, cuddling, kissing

Word Count: 864

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Despite how uncomfortable it must be, Zayne spreads out along the couch, his long legs stretched over the armrest. Normally, he would fit - just barely. Tonight, however, he lays like this so he can rest his head in your lap. It was your idea, really. He’d just got home from work, his exhaustion weighing him down more than usual, and you’d offered immediately to help him relax.

His eyes are closed. One hand rests on his stomach while the other holds your hand, which he keeps securely over his heart. Whatever you have on the TV plays on, but he isn’t listening to it. All his focus is on you.

The way you carefully remove his glasses and set them aside. The brush of fingertips as you sweep his bangs from his eyes. Your fingers combing through his hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp, drawing out all of his tension so effortlessly. Your breathing, your pulse under his fingers, the heat of your thighs under his head.

You love seeing Zayne like this, for as rarely as it seems to happen. Face relaxed, worries stolen away, resting his eyes and trying not to fully fall asleep. Not that you’d mind if he did. With the weather getting colder and Wanderer attacks ramping up, he’s been busy seemingly nonstop trying to keep Linkon healthy and healed. No matter how many times you remind him to take a break, it never seems to be enough to fully relieve the burden from his shoulders. To know that you have the power right here, right now to do just that only encourages you to find ways to do this more often.

You lean down to press a soft kiss to his lips. He sighs contently as he returns it, his nose pressing lightly into your cheek. It’s slow and delicate, with quiet breaths shared between you both as you kiss again and again. There’s no heat, nor is there any expectation for there to be. It just needs to stay like this, and you’re both happy to keep it this way.

When at last you do pull away, he opens his eyes to look up at you. The light of the TV highlights the planes of his face, accentuating his nose and the cut of his cheekbone. He’s gorgeous. Sometimes, it’s still so surreal that you get to call him yours. That he chose to be with you, of all people. Not that you feel he’s out of your league or that you’re unworthy of the way he looks at you; it’s just hard to believe sometimes. (If you did ever feel that way, he’d ensure you are thoroughly aware of how untrue they are.)

His hand squeezes yours. “What are you thinking about?” he asks, voice raspy as he whispers.

You smile and trail your fingers down his cheek. He leans into the touch without hesitation and without thought, eyelids fluttering at the sensation. “I’m thinking about how pretty you are,” you say. “Especially your eyes.” He opens said eyes again to look at you. The light catches just right, turning the muted jade green of his irises into something closer to sour apple candy.

“Hm.” His eyes flicker across your face, before meeting yours again. “I’ve never given them much thought.”

“You should. You hold the whole world in your eyes, dear heart.”

“Can you see your reflection in them?”

You brow furrows slightly as you look. In this lighting, however, it’s impossible to see anything but the glint of light from the TV. “No.”

He tilts his head slightly. “Then how can I hold the whole world in my eyes?”

You laugh quietly and playfully pinch his cheek. He shakes you off with a smile. “That was cheesy.”

“Careful, or I’ll start to think you enjoy my bad jokes.”

You laugh again, a bit louder than before. It draws out his own chuckles, just seeing you so happy. You free your hand from his hold just enough to loosen his tie. “I must be getting delirious from sleep deprivation, that’s all.”

He grabs your hand to pull it away from his tie. “Alright. We can go to bed now.”

You’re loath to let go of him so he can sit up. You think, if given all the time in the world, you’d dedicate so much of it to simply holding him. With all the stress of his job, he deserves as much time as possible to rest. You wish you could give him that.

Overwhelmed with the desire to do just so, you hug him from behind before he can even get his legs off the armrest. He holds your hand again, turning his head to try seeing you. “Darling?”

You lift your cheek from his back to rest your chin on his shoulder, squeezing him a bit tighter. “I love you.”

He smiles. You let him raise your hand to his lips, where he places a lingering, reverent kiss to your knuckles. His thumb strokes over your palm, opening up your hand so he can place another kiss to the center. “My heart,” he whispers against your skin, “will always belong to you.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton

[seiya-starsniper]

Have been wildly oscillating between panic, anger, resentment, shitposting, and despair all day, as is my right as a citizen of the United States of Hell. I have bought much needed treats and I'm checking in on my friends in more precarious positions than myself and feeling angry all over again on their behalf. I am angry at the people who voted for trump, at the people who didn't vote at all because "both sides are bad" and angry at the world in general.

If you didn't vote for whatever reason, congrats, I hope you're pleased with yourself, good luck and let's never speak again. We're never seeing eye to eye on anything and that's fine, I can live with that. Obviously this only applies to US folk, but I'm not in the mood to argue about things with non US people either.

If you did vote and want to give up fighting to save yourself and your loved ones, do it. Living despite everything that's happened is resistance enough. You have fought long enough. You should not have been carrying this burden by yourself and if you are burned out to hell, protect yourself first. However you can, any way you can.

I don't know what it is I'm doing yet but I'm not giving up on doing good in any way I can, no matter how small. I am focusing on my loved ones first and foremost, and on surrounding myself with people who actually share the one core value of change and goodness still being possible, even if they don't share all my other views. I'm tired of the doomsdayers, tired of the defeatists and the pessimists who keep saying nothing is worth fighting for if the solution is not perfect in every way. I want change, I want goodness, and I'm not getting it from people who think I'm an idiot for not having perfect politics and saying the right buzzwords. Enough is enough.

Anyways, I'm tired and cranky but I will be fine. Check in on your trans friends, your disabled friends, your POC friends, and support them however you can. Prioritize your immediate needs above all else and tune out everything else.

[bumblepony]

Birthday Fic Recs!

So it's my birthday, y'all, and on this momentous day, I want to share my favorite fics from all my favorite authors and friends in this amazing fandom! Because you all are such wonderful people, and you've all inspired me to become a better writer, and I can't thank you all enough. So here is my list in no particular order. Some of these may be duplicates of fics I've recommended in the past, if so roll with it because I'm always happy to share amazing stuff again.

i know you by heart by @sixhours - Joel and Ellie settle into their new lives in Jackson but it's not the easiest transition. Thankfully Jackson has a counselor to help with that. AKA the gay TLOU/Prospect crossover you didn't know you needed.

A woman is a changeling by @treadlightlymydarlinggirl - (Tess lives) and what happens after!

back and forth, up and down by @lauronk - (more times ellie & joel barely missed each other in the qz)

our hearts are heavy burdens (we shouldn't have to bear alone) by @ameerawrites - Maria and Tommy's engagement story, a prequel to "Not Alone"

Fortunate Son - Maria Sinclair agrees to help Tommy Miller, a probationary resident at Jackson, with a life-changing opportunity.

Next of Kin by @probssomethingorother - The day Joel becomes a dad and how he deals with the sudden weight of fatherhood. Slight canon divergence where his wife dies instead of leaving. Big whumps ahead.

Mary Poppins ain't got nothing on me by @barlowstreet - Tommy POV again! This time, he's watching Ellie while Joel has surgery. Ellie is not fond of this plan.

collaborators by @becomethesun - Sam and Henry live. Adventures and found family bonding ensue on the journey from Kansas City to Jackson and beyond.

What Would Your Superpower Be? by blue_calico on AO3 -

i know you by heart by @sixhours - Joel and Ellie settle into their new lives in Jackson but it's not the easiest transition. Thankfully Jackson has a counselor to help with that. AKA the gay TLOU/Prospect crossover you didn't know you needed.

A woman is a changeling by @treadlightlymydarlinggirl - (Tess lives) and what happens after!

back and forth, up and down by @lauronk - (more times ellie & joel barely missed each other in the qz)

our hearts are heavy burdens (we shouldn't have to bear alone) by @ameerawrites - Maria and Tommy's engagement story, a prequel to "Not Alone"

Fortunate Son - Maria Sinclair agrees to help Tommy Miller, a probationary resident at Jackson, with a life-changing opportunity.

Next of Kin by @probssomethingorother - The day Joel becomes a dad and how he deals with the sudden weight of fatherhood. Slight canon divergence where his wife dies instead of leaving. Big whumps ahead.

Mary Poppins ain't got nothing on me by @barlowstreet - Tommy POV again! This time, he's watching Ellie while Joel has surgery. Ellie is not fond of this plan.

collaborators by @becomethesun - Sam and Henry live. Adventures and found family bonding ensue on the journey from Kansas City to Jackson and beyond.

What Would Your Superpower Be? by blue_calico on AO3 - With a storm taking its toll on Ellie as they pass through Indiana, Joel reluctantly lets them stay with a family who stirs up pain he's tried hard to bury. Still, he knows how to be a good dad. He just can't yet see it.

Lost in the Woods by @cardigains - How digging up what's buried in the past brings about consequences in the present. (The Private Investigator!AU nobody asked for.) (I did! I asked for it! I'm here for it!)

Right Where We Belong by cauldron_zeta on AO3 - Frank has upheaved his life to move to almost the middle of nowhere. His closest neighbour isn't really a people person but Frank has always liked a challenge.

just babes being dudes and flat on my face then back in the race and my cow, your cow, our cow by @ciaconnaa - Sorry this are all amazing and I just could not pick which one was my favorite!

Mute Joel by @captainredspade - An Ellie and Joel drabble that may or may not turn to something more in the future. It's based off the au idea of Joel being mute, and if he and Ellie met a different way than they did in canon.

Compassionate Friends by @mildredellie - Ellie & Joel meet at a grief support group they were both forced to attend.

cosmic oddities by @deervsheadlights - Turning a clan of two into a clan of four and asking the very important, albeit unhinged question: What if space dad and apocalypse dad were Weird About Each Other?

Taste your beating heart by @finnelfin - Tess's traveling companions are keeping secrets.

in search of some hope by @dancingonmoonbeams - Tommy’s story, from leaving Boston to finding Jackson to him and Joel finding each other again.

show me how to lie, you're getting better all the time by @eedsknees - Cry to the Chest (featuring Ellie with endometriosis trying to ignore her pain until she can't anymore!)

Mother by @liveandletcry23 - The Millers have a demon problem

expect(ing)(ations) by @penandinkprincess - (set about ten years after the original storyline) (ellie, now grown and married, decides she wants to have a baby so she can pass her immunity on to her kid)

Dinosaur by @femmefacetious - Joel and Ellie deal with some stupid cold temperatures and assorted shenanigans (the not-fun kind) in and around the town of...Dinosaur, CO.

we could walk forever, walkin' on the moon and what matters most by @boopernatural - I had to pick both because they are some of my favorites!

For Your Entertainment by @manicparadox - A strip club AU. Bill and Frank meet at The Bou-Peek where Frank is a stripper.

Future Proof by Capricordinary on AO3 - Joel is somehow transported into the past. he makes it his mission to find four year old Ellie, reunite his family and find a safe place for them in the Wyoming wilderness

Most Likely Occupation by joschmo on AO3 - Joel is a single dad working long hours in a difficult, painful occupation. He does what he needs to do to keep going, or at least that's what he tells himself. After the outbreak, things...escalate.

ily, imu, im sry (i love you, i miss you, im sorry) by @mariatesstruther - in which joel and tess haven't spoken for ten years, but are reintroduced for their daughters’ english project. sarah and ellie misinterpret the situation quite a bit.

To Have Loved Someone by Joels_revolver on AO3 - Ellie is stuck in a modern Jackson now and neither she nor Joel have any idea how to get her back. Ellie has no choice but to confront her demons, and Joel— Well, he has a few demons of his own to deal with.

dodors (and other birds) by @ketchupchipsaregross - How Tess and Joel accidentally restarted parenting in their 40s.

let all your damage damage me by @electricbluebutterflies - Assorted prompt fills and shorter ficlets, generally unconnected and variable ratings. Tess/Joel.

Of Artists and Architects by @emilylawsons - A Cordyceps-Free Tessjoel AU

creature fear by @marceltheshellwithflipflopson - The first time Joel protects Sarah from an infected, it changes his life forever. The first time Joel protects Ellie from an infected, it feels just like it did twenty years ago. Even if he swears up and down that the kid is just cargo.

I have to break this up. It's too big. So look for the next one in a little bit.

[razzberrydazz]

While my soul wants to shapeshift, my heart wants teleportation, so that I can instantly go to the people I am trying to help and get them the things they need and get them to safety! Such as Ali Jendia's family!

A family in particular I want to help get to safety is Ali Jendia and his family. @ali-manar asked me to share his story as follows:

"I write to you with a heavy heart, not seeking financial support, but simply to share my voice, my family's voice, and our daily struggles. We are living in challenging conditions in a tent, where my wife, Manar, cannot find the comfort she needs for her kidney treatment. My children, Muhammad and Haneen, could not complete their education because of the war. My young son, Yazan, has been severely injured by explosions that shattered his safety and childhood.

All I ask is that you remember us, ask about our well-being, even if with just a few simple words that let us know we are not alone and that there are those who feel for us. Just shedding light on our suffering would be enough to ease this heavy burden and give us hope that kindness still exists.

May these words reach those with compassionate hearts who will remember us and keep us in their prayers. This gesture alone would be enough for me."

I am doing what I can to help this family and several other families devastated by the occupation in Gaza, and if you would like to help this family, you can find their fundraiser here. This is a vetted campaign. The currency is in swedish krona, $10 USD ≈ 105 SEK.

@dev-tawfik @northgazaupdates2 @a-shade-of-blue @rainy-fog @7yrannic @ankle-beez @loonarmuunar @nationalvyvanseshortage @hootnhoney  @theslyvoid9  batman @jays---wing @murielswedding @shesnake @userpeggycarter @sabertoothwalrus @daily-click-reminders @halorvic @bluerepository @kindaorangey @lorelune @smolldust @skautism @creaking-skull @bloodbornebutch @bloodraven55 @thatneoncrisis @loserlesbianongsa @serotoninny@vamprisms @ohmaerieme @meglyfer @shoogachi @the-stove-is-divorced @loudmound @wyrm-with-a-why @cybrthrillz @racc0jello  @eldermoonbreezy @dreamterlude (comment/DM if you want your tag added or removed)

[anime-villian-irl]

I am here. I am not a robot; I am a real person who has suffered greatly.

I reached out to ask you: is it normal to die a little every day? Is it normal that I haven’t seen the rest of my family in a year? Is it normal that I am unable to meet my mother’s basic needs, like her medicine? Is it normal to have to move with my mother, who has a spinal disc issue, for the tenth time, bearing the burdens of relocation? Is it normal to watch my mother fall ill and be unable to do anything for her?

I am truly exhausted and have found no one to help me. I am not asking you for financial support. I may be weak and unable to reach everyone, and my voice is unheard. All I ask of you is to share my story in your own way. Include my campaign at the end of a public survey or share my story through an expressive drawing, and spread it clearly to highlight its importance.

I have not forgotten the pain of losing my father, so please, my mother deserves to live. Your help is my hope.

The only way I can help is through providing attention. I hope this is enough

[vivemonroi]

Can we talk about Hallelujah and how it represents Solavellan? We've long considered Hallelujah as the hymn for Solavellan, but I never fully realized how deeply it might reflect their love.

I combined lyrics from Leonard Cohen’s version and Rufus Wainwright’s rendition to get a "full picture."

Content spoilers!

I imagine that it’s Lavellan singing to Solas, sharing how she sees him and his story.

Now I′ve heard there was a secret chord That David played, and it pleased the Lord But you don't really care for music, do you? It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth The minor falls, the major lifts The baffled king composing Hallelujah

The "baffled king" could represent Solas and his god-like status during the Evanuris era. Even with his power and knowledge, Solas could be seen as someone vulnerable, struggling with the burdens of his choices. This reflects his grandeur and his inner conflict, showing that despite his god-like status, he was still susceptible to doubt, regret, and even love.

Your faith was strong but you needed proof You saw her bathing on the roof Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you

Now that we know more about Solas and Mythal’s relationship, I think that the "her" mentioned is actually Mythal, and Solas was willing to do anything for her. This includes obtaining a physical body and standing by her side no matter what.

She tied you to a kitchen chair She broke your throne, and she cut your hair And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah

But eventually, Mythal leaves Solas, who remains attached to her. She "broke his throne," meaning she pushed him to rebel; she made him cut his hair… and now the guy is bald. Clearly, this represents his betrayal.

The Hallelujah signifies the deepest, most sacred love — he still loved her, even then. But their relationship was ultimately toxic for both of them.

Maybe I've been here before I know this room, I've walked this floor I used to live alone before I knew you I've seen your flag on the marble arch Love is not a victory march It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Now Lavellan is singing about herself and her life before Solas. She was alone, especially after the Conclave and becoming the Herald of Andraste. The Dalish rejected her, and humans weren’t her people — much like Solas himself, upon awakening to a world that was no longer his.

With him, she discovers a love deeper than any she has known, she realizes that loving someone is not a "victory march." Her love for him is filled with pain and bittersweetness. It's hard to love him, yet she love him still.

There was a time you'd let me know What's real and going on below But now you never show it to me do you?

This is about the time they shared during the events of the Inquisition. He taught her about the Fade and the ancient gods, but after Trespasser, he vanished, concealing his true self beneath the mask of Fen’Harel.

And then there’s the line, “you’d let me know what’s real.” Remember what Solas said after they defeated Corypheus, just before he walked away forever?

“I want you to know that what we had was real.”

And remember when I moved in you? The holy dark was moving too And every breath we drew was Hallelujah

Both could represent the time they shared or her attempts to reach him after Trespasser. The "holy dark"— maybe the Blight?

You say I took the name in vain I don′t even know the name But if I did, well, really, what's it to you?

She didn’t know his true title, the Dread Wolf, a part of his very nature and ancient past. Yet she wonders: if she had known, would it have changed anything?

Now there's a different versions for Lavellan who want to save Solas and Lavellan who want to stop him.

The redeemed and happy version.

There's a blaze of light in every word It doesn′t matter which you heard The holy or the broken Hallelujah

At first glance, it may seem like the holy love, the holy Hallelujah, represents his love for Mythal, and the broken one for Lavellan. But I think it's the opposite: Mythal is a god, yet their love is broken; Lavellan is mortal, but her love for him is divine. Both of them have the power to redeem him, in different ways — one through letting go, and the other through allowing him to be loved.

I did my best, it wasn′t much I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch I′ve told the truth, I didn't come to fool you

The words point directly to Solas, she tries to convince him, that their love can find a way to endure. She isn't like Mythal, she accepts him, his nature. But he's afraid, he's not allowing himself to move forward.

And even though it all went wrong I′ll stand before the Lord of Song With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah

Even in the end, Lavellan still holds onto her love for Solas, with nothing on her tongue but their sacred love.

She is his future.

Now to the grim and sad version

Maybe there's a God above And all I ever learned from love Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you

He deceives her, and all that love has taught her is sorrow. Mythal' and Solas' history confirms that.

She remains steadfast, standing in his path, even if it means his end, because her love and his history taught her "to shoot at someone who outdrew you."

And it′s not a cry you can hear at night It's not somebody who′s seen the light It's a cold and it′s a broken Hallelujah

In this version, their love is doomed to be cold and broken. There is no light. She has given up on him, yet the suffering remains, deep and unrelenting. Still, it is a Hallelujah.

He is all alone, facing his most terrible fear. Yet he believes he deserves it and it's the only thing that can redeem him.

Thank you for reading this! I know I’m being delusional, but it helps me sleep at night.

[squoxle]

[9] • WHY DO YOU HATE ME? - H. KAI

skater!bully!huening kai x loner!junkie!reader

plot: working alongside your ex-best friend, who's also a full-time asshole, turns hot after a heated conversation... | wc: 3.9k | cw: angst, mentions of death and suicide, drug and alcohol abuse, other sensitive topics, smut

From your point of view, life continued for three reasons;

1. For your family…the only friends you had.

2. Another episode of you current obsession, and

3. The next cigarette...or cancer stick as your next door neighbor liked to call it.

Sometime your third reason helped you the most. One puff relived the stress and every one after that made life a little easier. Oftentimes, smoking was like an escape for you. A way to cope with the shitty hand the universe had dealt you.

You lived in a cheap apartment. And all of the money you made was split between you and your parents. There was a shared belief in your family that the children should take care of their parents when they move out. Assisting in whatever way they could.

This belief is what compelled you to send money to your family. It wasn’t a burden. You knew that if you ever needed a place to stay that you were always welcome back home. The only problem being that you couldn’t shake your smoking habit. And that was the reason you had to go in the first place.

You seen all the stupid YouTube videos about what happens to your lungs when you smoke and how much money you could save if you weren’t buying packs of cigarettes weekly, but none of that mattered to you. After the death of your only friend near the end of senior year, life seemed almost impossible.

Meaningless and empty without Eve by your side.

You held onto those three reasons because everything in you wished for one more day with your friend. Just one more day to tell her how much you loved her. And at this point, the sweet taste of death was the only thing separating you from her.

You grew up as an only child for most of your life. By the time your mom had your little brother, you were already 14 years old. Around that time you met Eve.

You had just started high school and up until freshman year, you were known to be a loner.

You walked into your first class of the day, sitting in the chair furthest to the back of the classroom and that’s when you met her for the first time.

“I’m Eve,” she smiled, extending her hand to you. The two of you were like complete opposites. She was warm, cheery, and full of life. You on the other hand felt like the world had been against you since birth.

One more detail about Eve is that she was a huge chatterbox. Since the two of you rode the bus together, you never felt alone. The darkness that was your life felt a little brighter with her around. Even your mom noticed the positive change in your behavior.

“You sure look happy,” your mom raised her brow as you looked at your phone.

“Yeah, I met this really cool girl at school today. Her name is Eve,” you smiled.

“Well maybe you should invite her over sometime. Anyone that can make you smile like that must be really special.”

And she was…Eve was really special to you.

You could talk to her about anything. She wasn’t just an expert at talking, she was also a great listener. Sometimes her advice wasn’t the best, but you were both kids at the time.

You just wish that she would’ve talked to you the day before…she killed herself. You always blamed yourself for her death. There had to have been a sign that she was hurting, but maybe you were too selfish to see it.

You had both started senior year together and all you ever talked about were how the two of you would move out together and graduate from the same college. You saw a life with her…and all of that was over in one night.

You think about it every day. What makes it even worse is that your co-worker is the biggest asshole you’d ever known.

You were never brave enough to stand up to him. Maybe because you felt like the fight just wasn’t worth it. But he knew Eve too. The three of you were friends before her death. Your past friendship is probably another reason why you wouldn’t speak up.

When you really think about it…a lot changed after she died. You started smoking and Kai seemed to hate you for no reason.

You never knew why…

“You’re locking up tonight,” he said as he slammed the cash register.

“What?!”

“You heard me,” he spat, turning to you. “You’re locking up tonight because I’m heading out early.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I have a life too y’know.”

“Do I look like I care?” You stared at him blankly before he continued, “Exactly, just do what the fuck I told you,” he swatted his hand before walking to the back to grab his things.

“You can’t expect me to do all of this by myself,” the gas station you worked at was extremely understaffed and you two were often the only ones at work.

“You can handle it,” he leaned down, picking up his skateboard before heading toward the front door.

“This is so fucked up,” you slammed you hand against the counter. “You’re such a fucking dick,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes.

“You know what’d be really fucked up?” He asked softly walking back over to the register. “If you had a little accident at work,” he tilted his head to the side. “It’d be pretty hard to come to work if you slipped and hurt yourself. Wouldn’t it?”

You lowered your gaze, afraid to say something stupid and not in the mood to hear anymore of his threats. You knew better than to push him…he’d done a number of things to torture you.

You thought back to the one time he took your phone and locked you in the storage closet over night because you wouldn’t stay after hours and wax the floors.

You watched as he walked out with his skateboard tucked under his arm. You sighed deeply, striking your lighter as you lit your cigarette.

You parted your lips, letting the clouds of grey smoke fill the air as you took out the trash before turning off all the lights and locking up for the night.

Without Eve your life felt like Groundhog Day. A continuous, endless, hell-like loop of waking up, clocking in, and clocking out to do it all over again. The most diversity you had in your life was a new assignment.

Oh and to make life even better, Kai went to the same school as you. A cheap community college where you could earn your associates before taking out student loans to get your bachelors.

Sometimes you wondered if life ever got any better from here…

A few days later, you were working the cash register with Kai when he decided to take his break in the middle of the 12 o’clock rush. “Perfect,” you sighed sarcastically. “Just fucking perfect,” you rolled your eyes as you prepared yourself to deal with the line of customers that had wrapped around one of the aisles.

“You should smile more often,” a man smiled. He looked to be about 40 or 50.

“Excuse me?” You asked, wondering why he would even say something like that.

“I’m just saying,” he shrugged pulling out a $20. “Life is beautiful. There’s a lot to smile about.”

“Right,” you scoffed.

“You should try it sometime,” he smiled as you handed him the receipt.

“M’kay,” you shook you head, wanting nothing more than for him to just take his shit and leave.

“Thank you so much sir for pointing that out,” Kai came out grinning ear to ear like the fucking Cheshire Cat.

“You’re welcome. I just know how much a smile can change the working environment for everyone.”

“Exactly,” Kai nodded. “____, I don’t wanna have to write you up for this because I know how much you need this job. But you’re gonna have to change your attitude.”

You sighed as you rubbed the spot between your eyebrows. Another detail that you hated to remember and often forgot was that Kai was your manager…and the reason you got this job in the first place.

Ironically you started working here during your last year of high school. You planned to earn some money for college to give you a bit of a head start, which only somewhat worked out in your favor.

To be honest, the pay here was pretty good and better than any other option. You assumed this had a lot to do with the low staff.

Anyways, you were hoping that Kai was only joking about writing you up until you were called into the office for a staff meeting on Friday.

“Look, ____. We’re already very low on staff as I’m sure you know. And it’s hard to keep customers coming back if you’re out there looking like you want a bullet in your head,” the owner said, folding his hands.

“That’s probably because I do,” you mumbled to yourself.

“All I’m saying is, try to look at least somewhat pleasant. You don’t have to go overboard, just be natural, okay?”

“Yeah, okay," you shook your head as Kai sat next to you.

"Thanks again, Kai. I really appreciate you for bringing this to my attention. I've been noticing a decline in customer reviews and now I know why."

"No problem," he smiled giving you a look that made you wanna knock his teeth out.

Kai closed the door to the main office as the two of you walked down the hallway.

“I can’t believe you actually fucking ratted me out,” you spat.

“I’m only doing what’s best for the—“

“Drop the fucking act,” you sneered. “We both know you don’t really give a damn. Because if you did I wouldn’t be locking up at night by myself. You’d be there helping me out and not somewhere just jerking off. Y’know what? Maybe I should go tell the boss about what you’re doing since we’re in the bitching business,” you turned around, but just as you tried walking away Kai grabbed your arm, pulling you back and throwing you to the ground.

“Don’t be such a stupid fucking bitch,” he spat.

“You did the same thing to me,” you brushed yourself off as you stood to your feet only to be pushed back down to the ground.

“If I were you I’d quit while I was ahead,” he knelt down.

“I’m tired of you treating me like shit, Kai. I don’t know what your fucking problem is, but I didn’t do anything to deserve this.”

“If you really believe that you’re even dumber than I thought you were.”

“Fuck you,” you spat, looking him dead in the eye. You don’t know what came over you, but you had never been brave enough to stand up for yourself.

“I’d watch my tongue if I were you,” he pressed his forearm against your neck. “Karma can be a real bitch y’know,” your eyes watered as he held you against the wall. You felt weak and powerless against him and you hated it, but there really was nothing you could do about it. Or at least that’s how you felt.

Your bottom lip quivered as he slowly let you go. You sucked in your breath, catching a tear with your sleeve before running off to the bathroom. You cried in there, more than you had in a really long time.

And that evening, after closing early, you smoked through a whole pack. You were on the last one as Kai was walking back to the store. You assumed he’d forgotten something inside as he unlocked the door.

Catching the sight of you, smoking behind the register, he walked up and slapped the cigarette out of your mouth, casting ashes across the floor. “What the fuck?” You spat, picking up the bud before sticking it back between your lips.

“You know that shit could kill you right?”

“I already feel dead,” you hummed, pulling out your lighter. “This is the only thing that makes me feel alive,” you continued, striking the lighter.

“Well you can die on your own time,” he snatched the cigarette out of your pursed lips. “I don’t wanna be the one cleaning up after your corpse when your lungs collapse.”

He looked in the small trash can underneath the register where he saw more than 15 burnt buds and an empty packet. “Did you smoke this whole pack?”

“Obviously,” you rolled your eyes.

“Are you trying to kill yourself?”

“You wouldn’t care anyway. You obviously hate me.”

“Don’t let me catch you smoking again,” he spat.

“You’re not my fucking dad. You can’t tell me what to do,” you reached to try and get your last cigarette back as he shoved you into the counter, putting the bud out on the countertop beside you.

“Next time it’ll be your hand,” he sneered. “Now, clean this shit up and get this disgusting fucking smell out of here,” you forcefully wiped the tear from your eye as he walked away. Grabbing whatever he needed before walking out again.

Sometimes you wondered if this was why Kai always messed with you, because he got a kick out of seeing you cry.

As sadistic as it sounded, it couldn’t be any closer to the truth which you learned later that week one night when Kai told you to close by yourself again. The only difference was that he was somewhat tipsy at this point.

He had been drinking a lot more after the altercation you had in the hallway. You wondered if it was because he felt guilty, finally seeing the error of his ways.

“Can you at least take out the fucking trash before you go?” You spat as he walked to the back putting his stuff away. “Please,” you threw your hand up.

“If I do it will you shut your big fucking mouth?”

“Yes,” you rolled your eyes. He was in an even pissier mood when he drank, but surprisingly he was more useful. He’d do almost anything you asked him to do as long as you bitched about it enough.

“Thank you,” you smiled as he mumbled to himself throwing two bags over his shoulder, and dragging another two out the back door with him.

You heard bottles clanking outside as you shut down the register. Another loud crashing sound shook you up as you called out Kai’s name. You were feeling a bit annoyed at this point. “I don’t even make that amount of noise when I take out the trash,” you sighed.

More noises and no reply from Kai led you to go outside and check on him yourself, leaving your phone in the counter. “What the hell are you doing out here?” You spat as you saw him throwing glass bottles against the wall with bloody hands.

“Kai! Stop it!” You shouted as he shielded his ear with his shoulder.

“Can you stop fucking yelling at me and just go back inside,” he rolled eyes, launching another bottle at the wall.

“No because after you’re done fucking around like a jackass I’m gonna have to come out here and clean this shit up.”

“No you’re not,” he hummed.

“Yes I am.”

“No you’re not,” his words slurred together at this point.

“Yes. I am.”

“No you’r—“ you ripped the bottle out of his bloody grasp.

“You’re way too fucking drunk right now. Just get the hell out of here and go home already.”

“Where are you going,” he asked sounding slightly frustrated.

You started to walk back inside, “I’m gonna go get a broom to clean this shit up,” you sighed. “Someone has too,” you reached your hand out to open the door only to jump, quickly turning around after hearing rapid footsteps approach you.

Kai had pinned you against the door, slamming it shut as he held another bottle in his hand. He broke it beside you head and held it to your neck. “If you scream I’ll cut your throat open right here,” he slurred.

“Get off of me you drunk bastard!” You yelled, squirming in an attempt to free yourself from his grasp. He slapped you in the face with his bloody hand before clenching your jaw.

Tears filled your eyes as you stamped your feet against the ground. You beat against his chest as your arms were stuck in one position. “Kai!” You cried. “Stop it! Please,”

“Why should I? You’re not my mom,” he pressed against you harder, crushing your hands beneath his weight.

“Why do you hate me?” You choked on tears as you couldn’t hold them back anymore.

“Shh!” He put a bloody finger against your lips.

“No, I want you to tell me why you hate me so much. It doesn’t make sense. We used to be friends before…before Eve killed herself,” it was silent for a moment as Kai lowered his head, he body started to tremble as a tear dropped from his face.

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” He shouted repeatedly slamming your body against the metal door, dropping the broken bottle.

“You’re hurting me, Kai! Stop it!” You yelled as you felt a pain tugging at your bones. “Please,” your voice shook.

He rested his hands on your shoulders before falling to your knees. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “God, I’m so fucking sorry,” he cried.

You knelt down and lifted his teary face. “It’s okay, Kai. I miss her too,” you sniffled before wrapping your arms around him.

He pulled away gently, looking up at you with teary eyes. “I’m really sorry, _____,” he apologized. “I’ve been such a dick…”

“And I don’t even understand why…”

“D’you remember the day before Eve died?”

“Of course I do…I think about it almost everyday.”

“What if I told you it’s my fault she’s dead…”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“She called me…”

“She did?! Why didn’t you ever tell me? What did she say?”

“I didn’t know how to tell you…but she told me to be happy…”

“I don’t understand. Why did she say that?”

“Did you ever notice how she was around you? Like the way she behaved. Did she ever seem like she liked you as more than just a friend?”

“I-uhh…I never paid attention to it.”

“Yeah well she really liked you, but when she found out I liked you too, she started to back off some. Things really took a turn for the worse when her parents heard us arguing one night—“

“What were you arguing about?”

“She had started hurting herself…”

“Like cutting?”

“Yeah…and I guess it didn’t get any better…I should’ve told someone,” he said softly as tears trickled down his cheeks.

“You can’t blame yourself for that.”

“But if I would’ve told someone she might still be here…”

“We don’t know that for sure.”

“It could’ve helped her…she also called me a few nights before she died and told me that her parents found out about her crush on you…I don’t really know how…but they did and she was really upset about that. Do you think her parents are the reason she killed herself?”

“We can’t know for sure…she didn’t really leave us any way of knowing why. But I think you should listen to her and be happy. Just look at the way we’ve separated…”

Kai looked down at his bloody hands, “____…”

“Yes?”

Kai cradled your face in his hands before kissing you on the lips. One kiss turned to three and the next thing you knew his lips were all over your neck as he groped your tit in his hand.

Not a single word was spoken as breathless moans took the place of speech. You grabbed his hair in your hand, untying the small bun he wore as you tousled his hair. He slipped his tongue into your mouth as he pulled you closer.

You pulled his head away as his lips fell to your chest. “What?”

“Don’t you think this is kinda fast?”

“We can think about that in the morning,” he hummed, kissing your neck again.

You held Kai’s hand as he took you inside. He picked you up, placing you on the metal cabinet as he kissed you, unbuttoning his pants.

“What about a condom?”

“Do I look like the type of guy to just have a condom in his wallet?”

“I…uh…”

“Exactly. Don’t worry…I’ll pull out,” he shrugged as you pulled your pants down. You watched as his dick sprang out of his boxers.

You climbed back onto the cabinet, spreading your legs as he stepped between them, lining his tip up with your entrance. “Ngh!” You moaned as he pushed through.

“Mmm,” he hummed feeling your walls contract around him. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding onto him as he pumped into you. He nuzzled his face into yours, bringing your lips back to his as he pushed his tongue into your mouth.

You moaned as you felt yourself coming close to finishing. You threw your head back as he sucked onto your neck. You squeezed your thighs around him, pulling him closer as you climaxed.

"Fuck," he swore.

"What?"

"I'm gonna cum," he bit his lip as he started to pull back.

"I don't care," you pulled him closer, kissing him again.

"But I thought you--"

"We'll think about it in the morning," you whispered as he pumped every drop of his hot load into you.

Everything from here became a blur until the two of you woke up in the backroom. You were laying between his legs as he rested his back against the metal cabinet.

"Shit," you spat as your eyes shot open. "We have to be ready to open in like 30 minutes," you said, scrambling to your feet.

"No way," Kai rubbed his eyes, looking up to see the analog clock on the wall, confirming what you just said.

The two of you scrambled to open up. He wiped off the cabinet from the two of you last night and you worked together to restock the coffee station and check the slushee maker.

"I'll take care of the mess outside," he chuckled, ruffling his hair. You handed him the hair tie that was wrapped around your wrist. It was the same one you took off of him last night. "Thanks," he smiled before kissing you on the cheek.

"Hey, for the record," you hollered. "Whatever happened last night doesn't change anything between us. I still hate you," you smirked.

"I hate you too," he smiled before heading out the back door.

What happened from this day on is hard to explain. It was like the two of you went back to being friends, but something else tugged at your heart aside from the memory of your dead friend. You were starting to like Kai and you could tell that he liked you too, but dating each other just didn't feel right.

As far as sex was concerned, it hadn't happened again since the first time you did it, which was about 3 weeks ago. Even though you did have the occasional makeout session that never seemed to last long enough.

Maybe there were 4 reasons why life continued for you...and he was definitely one of them.

a.n.: I wanted to add more detail to this one, but I didn’t want it to be too long. Sorry if it feels rushed.

𝒦𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓉𝑜𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

@chlorinecake

@wonbinisbabygurl

@nishiimuranights

@wildflowermooon

@heeseungshim

@ramyeonzprincess

@bangchans-gf5

@wand3rlustm3

@heeseunghee7

@norihoyeon

@gacktsa

@hyunj00

@mimikittysblog (not sure how much you're into moody kai lol)

[vir-tanadahl]

The Wolf's Return to Wisdom

Summary: The journey between Lavellan and Solas after the events of Veilguard! NSFW.

The third installment of a (probably) three part series.

The Burden of the Dread Wolf

A Wolf's Atonement

Note: OKAY IT STARTS SAD BUT IT GETS BETTER AT THE END I PROMISE, TRUST ME. NSFW.

Together, Solas and Lavellan step into his path of atonement, moving through the shadowed fog and echoing whispers that haunt this prison of regret. Lavellan glances up at him, sensing his apprehension as they journey deeper into the darkness. Without a word, she reaches for his hand, interlocking her fingers with his.

For a moment, his usually stoic expression betrays a flicker of unease, a vulnerability she isn’t accustomed to seeing. He gives her hand a gentle squeeze but keeps his gaze fixed forward, lost in the weight of his thoughts. In response, she lifts his hand to her lips and presses a gentle kiss onto his knuckles. Their hands then fall back to their sides, but this small gesture brings him comfort and reminds him that he has someone by his side on this journey

“Tela’nadas. Mala suledin vir sulahn’nehn,” Lavellan murmurs softly, her voice a gentle warmth as she gazes up at him, her eyes filled with quiet strength and resolve. Nothing lasts forever. Your long endurance now leads to joy.

Solas takes a deep breath to steady himself before turning towards her. He raises his hand and carefully strokes her cheek with his thumb. She leans into his touch, briefly closing her eyes as if relishing the moment. He looks down at her, his gaze tender and determined, as if he wants to remember every aspect of her face. A faint smile appears on his lips, a rare sight from the man beneath the weight of his responsibilities, only seen when she is near him. He takes a deep breath before leaning in to brush his lips gently against her forehead. They stay there for a moment, sharing a tender and intimate connection before separating. Without exchanging any words, they resume walking together, their hands still intertwined.

The surroundings are void of life and desolate, a dull and empty landscape of darkness and shattered recollections. As they move ahead, the scenery distorts and morphs, transforming with every footstep until a different setting appears - one that highlights Solas's regrets. Varric.

As they continue on, the atmosphere becomes heavy with echoes of Solas's regret, each one spoken in Varric's tone. The emptiness around them is filled with a sense of blame and accusation.

“After all this time, all those speeches about finding balance and purpose. And yet, you stand here blinded by your own self-righteousness,” one voice echoes bitterly. A second voice follows, sharp and relentless. “Look around you, Solas. Look at the consequences of your actions. How many more must suffer for your regrets?” A third voice chimes in, its tone colder and more cutting. “You claim to be wise, but what have we truly gained from your so-called wisdom? Was all that suffering worth it?”

Lavellan reaches over and places her hand on Solas's arm, a gentle anchor amidst the onslaught of voices pressing in on him without mercy.

“You can’t hide behind duty, Solas. Every tyrant has a reason. What’s yours?”

She feels him tense at the word tyrant, the accusation striking him like a blow. The voices swirl around them, the relentless litany of his own self-doubt and guilt laid bare, but Lavellan’s steady touch remains, grounding him, reminding him that he doesn’t face this alone.

They arrive at a stone likeness of Varric, standing silent and unyielding amid the desolation. Solas stops before it, his gaze tracing every line and detail, as if each one carried the weight of memories. Slowly, he lowers his head, his shoulders heavy with remorse.

The voice echoes one final, cutting jab, reverberating through the air like a cruel reminder: “You think you’re a martyr, bearing this burden alone. But you didn’t have to be alone. That was your choice.” The words linger, striking deep, reminding him of the isolation he chose—and the connections he severed along the way.

Solas takes a deep, steadying breath, his voice thick with the weight of his justification. “I sacrificed our friendship for a greater cause, one beyond anything any of you could understand. It was a burden I chose to carry alone.”

From the statue, Varric’s voice replies, dripping with sarcasm. “Great story, Solas. I can already picture the book title: The Dread Wolf and His Noble Sacrifice.” The tone sharpens, biting. “Want me to write the happy ending where you save the world all by yourself, too?”

Solas takes a sharp breath and a pained expression emerges on his features. The words strike him like a knife, piercing through his determination to stay strong. Each word serves as a reminder of the sacrifices he made for his cause and the loneliness he willingly accepted. He feels the familiar urge to defend his choices, but he forces it down--there is no justification left, not even in the righteousness of his intentions.

Lavellan gently pulls on Solas, guiding him away from the haunting accusations. She knows that this distorted version of Varric is just a manifestation of Solas's own guilty conscience and doubt. "Solas," she speaks softly, "Varric spent a decade searching for you, not to judge or condemn you, but because he believed there was something worth finding."

He stays silent, staring down at the ground. She reaches up and turns his face towards her, determined not to let him hide in his guilt. "You know Varric better than that," she says with a steady and kind voice. "He always believed in people's ability to change, that their past didn't have to determine their future. Do you really think he would condemn you without giving you a chance to make things right?"

Her words cut through the fog of his regret, grounding him, reminding him of the man Varric truly was and the belief he once had in him, but the doubt still lingers. “This manifestation of Varric is right to condemn me, vhenan,” he tells her.

With her hand softly resting on his cheek, Lavellan gazes up at Solas. His eyes are filled with guilt and sorrow, desperately seeking a sense of stability in her unwavering gaze. As he fights to keep himself composed, Varric's voice cuts through the fog once again.

"Friendships are messy, Chuckles. People fight, disagree, get hurt—but they don’t just write each other off. I didn’t search for you just to give up on you.”

Solas's eyes well up with tears, and he inhales deeply, his gaze never leaving Lavellan's. She is the only anchor keeping him from being consumed by his overwhelming regret. Varric's voice chimes in once more, gentle but still dripping with his trademark humor. "You may believe that redemption is beyond your grasp, but perhaps it's time you take a lesson from your 'less wise' companions." Solas lets out a breath, a mix of amusement and surprise, as if Varric's words have struck a chord within him.

“So here’s the truth, Chuckles: even if you hurt us, I never stopped hoping you’d come back. Stop dragging yourself through the mud. If there’s any chance for you to make things right, don’t waste it. You owe it to yourself—and to all of us.”

In the ensuing silence, the weight of Varric's words echoes in Solas's mind, exposing his vulnerability. Eventually, Varric's voice changes focus and turns to address Lavellan. “If anyone can help him see a way out of this mess, it’s you,” the voice says gently. “I may not know what the future holds, but with you by his side… he might just make it.”

Lavellan’s hand rests steady against his cheek, her touch anchoring him to the present, reminding him that even amid his mistakes, hope endures—and with it, the possibility of redemption. She watches as a new resolve forms in his eyes, a glint of determination cutting through the sorrow. His gaze is glossy, emotions brimming just beneath the surface.

Without saying a single word, he pulls her in close, his arms enveloping her body in a comforting embrace. His chin rests gently on top of her head, as if seeking solace from her presence. His voice is soft and earnest as he speaks. "I may not be worthy of your forgiveness...but please believe me when I say that I deeply regret the hurt I caused you, Varric. I am truly sorry."

The words hang in the air, soft yet powerful, carrying the weight of his remorse. And in Lavellan’s embrace, he finds a flicker of peace—a fragile, yet undeniable step toward healing. "Don't go getting all sentimental on me, Chuckles. You're starting to sound like one of those tragic heroes from my books," Varric's voice breaks in. "But... apology accepted, for what it's worth," he responds.

Solas chokes back a sound that’s both a chuckle and a sob, tightening his hold on Lavellan as though she’s the only steady point in a turbulent sea. She wraps her arms around him, her hand moving in gentle, soothing circles along his back, grounding him with her quiet strength.

A surge of raw magic erupts from the statue of Varric, pulsing through the air and causing the surrounding atmosphere to shift. It is as if a spell has shattered, releasing something powerful and long-contained. The once-oppressive weight that hung in the air dissipates, leaving behind a sense of clarity and lightness. A feeling of freedom washes over them, granting a brief respite from the heavy burden they have carried for what feels like an eternity. It is a moment of relief, however fleeting it may be.

The weight of Varric's words hangs in the air, causing Solas to visibly tremble. He stands in silence, his breaths coming in unsteady gasps as he hunches under the heavy burden of guilt. He finds some solace in holding her close. Gradually, he regains control over himself, his breathing calming and steadying out.

His words are barely audible, filled with a deep sense of regret and shame. "I have left lasting wounds on all those who have stood by me, vhenan,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, tinged with raw regret and shame. “Knowing what I did to Varric… how can you see anything but a man consumed by his own failings?”

She continues to hold him close, her hand moving gently across his back in a reassuring rhythm. “Do you really think I would have followed you into the Fade if all I saw was your failures?” Her voice is soft and kind, yet there’s a firmness beneath it. “You believe you’re defined by those failings, but you’re wrong. What defines you now are the choices you make moving forward.”

She pulls away, meeting his gaze with a steady and unwavering look. “And I see someone who still has the courage to change,” she says. Solas gazes down at her, a gentle shake of his head betraying the doubt lingering in his heart. “I don’t know if I deserve such forgiveness,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible.

Lavellan's smile is tinged with sadness, but it also radiates understanding. "It's not up to you to determine if you deserve forgiveness," she says gently, her gaze steady and unwavering. "That power lies with those who are willing to forgive." A loud sigh escapes his lips. "You are right," he admits, defeat evident in his tone. She lets out a soft giggle and traces her fingers along his jawline. "I am well aware," she responds with a playful smile.

Her words, so full of compassion and forgiveness, unravel something deep within him. For a long, breathless moment, Solas simply looks at her, as if searching for any hint of doubt in her expression. But all he finds is warmth, understanding, and a love so unwavering that it takes his breath away.

He is unable to resist the pull between them as he leans forward, resting his forehead against hers, his eyes slipping shut as he allows himself to feel her presence fully. Her hands slide to rest on his shoulders, anchoring him, and he lets out a shuddering breath, the closeness between them a rare solace he never thought he’d have again.

Slowly, as if still uncertain that he has the right to take comfort in her, he brings his hands up to rest lightly at her waist, drawing her closer. Their breaths mingle, and there’s a moment of hesitation, a shared silence heavy with everything left unsaid. Then, closing the final distance, he presses his lips to hers in a kiss that begins softly, tentatively, as if he’s afraid to shatter the fragile connection between them.

Her lips are warm and enticing, and he revels in the softness of her skin beneath his touch. She embraces him tightly, bringing him closer to her. The kiss intensifies, a delicate dance of tongues and lips, a mutual release of built-up tension and desire. With each caress, every gentle press of their mouths, their love is reaffirmed - a bond that has not wavered despite time, distance, and previous betrayal. Solas's hand gently cradles her face, his touch filled with reverence as if she is the only thing keeping him grounded in this vast and dim world. He is consumed by the sensation, his senses completely overwhelmed by the taste and scent of her.

He pulls away gently, his expression softening as he gazes down at her with a mixture of wonder and longing. His fingers glide along her arm before entwining with hers. "Come," he whispers, his voice gentle yet determined, as he takes the lead and guides them towards the next regret he must confront.

As they continue their journey through the prison of regret, Lavellan can feel a faint glimmer of hope growing inside of him. It is fragile and uncertain, yet it cannot be ignored. However, with each passing step, the air becomes heavy and oppressive, weighing down on them both. This new regret brings with it a profound sense of sorrow, a pain that goes beyond just Solas and seeps into Lavellan's own heart, resonating with an ache that feels almost unbearable.

The landscape shifts again, twisting into a familiar scenes—and then she sees it. Herself. A statue stands before them, capturing the night he revealed the truth about the vallaslin. She’s frozen in that moment, her expression a mixture of vulnerability and betrayal, her heart laid bare as he shattered it when he ended their relationship. But this is not the only statue here.

There is another statue before them, captured in the moments after they defeated Corypheus. She’s posed with her arms wrapped tightly around her waist, as if trying to hold herself together, the faint glow of the anchor illuminating her hand. Lavellan’s chest tightens as she remembers that day vividly: the relief mingled with grief, the emptiness that followed when Leliana approached her to say that Solas had… simply vanished, without a word.

And next to that statue is another. This one shows her kneeling, her hand outstretched, frozen in the moment he took the anchor from her—the moment he held her hand, his fingers intertwined with hers as he absorbed her pain. The anchor is depicted mid-dissolution, its glow fading as he bore its burden.

Lavellan inhales sharply, a soft gasp escaping her lips as she takes in the sight. The memories, the loss, and the tenderness of that final touch rush back to her, stirring emotions she thought she had long buried.

Solas stands rooted in place, his gaze fixed on the three statues before him, each one a haunting reflection of his past choices. Hesitation and dread flicker across his face, but he remains still as the manifestations around them begin to call out, voices laden with pain and betrayal.

“You showed me a truth I never asked for, then left me with nothing but questions. Did you even care what it would do to me?” echoes the voice from Crestwood, sharp and wounded. Another voice follows, from the night they defeated Corypheus, its tone hollow with abandonment. “I trusted you, believed what we had was real. But you vanished, and all that remained was emptiness. Why did you leave me?” A third voice, this one raw with anguish, rings out from the Exalted Council. “Fen’Harel. All this time, I loved Fen’Harel, and you never told me. You let me bear the Anchor as it tore me apart—how could you hide such a thing?”

The Crestwood manifestation speaks again, the accusation piercing through the air. “You told me of my people’s past, wiped away the vallaslin, and then left as if that was all you had to give. Did I mean nothing to you?”

“You made me believe I mattered,” the Corypheus manifestation cries out, “but when the time came, you disappeared. Why, Solas?”

The third voice echoes immediately after, fierce with betrayal. “Did you ever see me as an equal, or was I just another piece on your board, someone to be used and discarded?”

Lavellan stares up at Solas in shock as the cacophony of regret, accusations, and wounded love fills the space, each word cutting deeper. The relentless chorus surrounds him, pressing down on his shoulders, leaving him bare before the weight of his choices.

The first manifestation cries out, its voice raw with betrayal, “Was I just too small for your grand vision? Too naïve to understand the truth you carried? You stripped away the vallaslin, the last piece of myself I thought I understood—and then you left me with nothing.” The second manifestation’s voice rises, laced with sorrow and frustration. “If you were going to leave, why couldn’t you just say it? Just a goodbye—I would have let you go if you’d given me that much.” The third manifestation follows, its tone sharp with disbelief. “I thought I knew you, but you were always someone else. How can you ask for forgiveness, knowing how you deceived me?”

Solas’s legs weaken under the weight of their accusations, and he falls to his knees, the crushing regret and guilt pressing down on him, stripping away any defense he might have once held. ears spill down his face as he listens, helpless, to the echoes of pain from the voices of the woman he calls his heart.

Instinctively, Lavellan reaches for him, her hands moving to pull him up from the ground. But he raises a trembling hand, halting her. “I must do this,” he says, his voice barely steady, breaking with emotion.

Lavellan nods silently, hands clasped tightly over her heart, resisting the urge to shield him from this suffering—from the pain he’s caused, and from her own pain. She steps back, letting him bear this moment alone, knowing that this is a part of the path he must walk if he is ever to heal.

He bows his head, his hands resting on his bent knees as he takes a few steadying breaths, bracing himself for the confessions he has long avoided. With each breath, he prepares to face the pain he has caused, and he begins, addressing the first manifestation from Crestwood.

“That night in Crestwood, when I shared the truth about your vallaslin…” He falters, the words catching in his throat. “You don’t know how close I came to breaking, to simply letting go of my plans. I could have told you everything—or even set it all aside, stayed with you as Solas, as I truly wanted.” His voice hitches, and he struggles to contain the tears that continue to fall. “I regret the pain I caused you… for what I left you to carry alone.”

He pauses, gathering his thoughts, then turns to the next manifestation, the one from the night of Corypheus’s defeat. “I disappeared because I thought my path would only bring you more suffering. I thought leaving quietly was an act of kindness, sparing you from more pain—but I see now it was a cruelty all its own.” He swallows, his voice weighted with sorrow. “I left you with unanswered questions and wounds that deepened in my absence. For that, I am so deeply sorry.”

Another pause, another breath. He addresses the final manifestation, the one formed from the Exalted Council. “You knew me as Solas, but I am—” He falters, correcting himself. “I was… also Fen’Harel, the Dread Wolf. I kept that truth from you, fearing you would hate me, fearing it would shatter us. But in hiding it, I only caused a deeper wound.”

He takes a shuddering inhale, his voice softened with remorse as he finishes. “I made choices that left you with nothing but betrayal and heartbreak. If I could undo them, I would, but all I can offer now is my deepest apology, for all the pain I caused and the trust I shattered.” He bows his head, the confessions spilling from him like a release, yet leaving behind a silence heavy with unspoken hopes.

Lavellan’s hands fly to her mouth as tears stream down her face, her shoulders shaking as years of unspoken pain rise to the surface. Solas rises slowly, his head still bowed, shadows of shame and regret etched into his posture. Turning to face her, he speaks softly, his voice laden with remorse.

“Vhenan,” he begins, his own voice faltering as he sees her tears. “I left you with questions, with doubts and pain that should never have been yours to carry. I turned away, thinking I could protect you. But in trying to shield you, I only left you wounded. I am… so deeply sorry.”

He pauses, searching for words to ease the weight of his confession, though he knows no words may ever be enough. “I thought that by leaving, you would find peace. I thought it was the only way. But I underestimated the strength of your love, and I see now that my choice only deepened your suffering.” A quiet sob escapes her, the pain she has carried alone finally acknowledged and given voice. Solas steps closer, his gaze finally meeting hers, raw and unguarded. “Every moment, I have carried your memory with me,” he continues, his voice thick with emotion. “You have given me far more than I ever deserved.”

Lavellan’s tears flow freely now, each word healing to wounds that had festered for too long. His confession, his presence, are a release—an unspoken promise that perhaps healing may yet be possible, even after all the years of heartache.

The echoes of the first manifestation call out from behind him, “What happened between us in Crestwood is no longer a wound for me. You helped me grow, Solas, and I have let go of the pain. I wish you could, too.” The second manifestation calls out, “I know you still feel the guilt of leaving without a word, but I want you to know I’ve forgiven you. I hope you can let go of that guilt, too.” The third manifestation follows, “You may have feared my reaction, but you didn’t have to hide from me. I love you for all that you are, and I forgive you. Let our love be enough to bridge the truth.”

Solas closes his eyes for a moment as the what the manifestations said echoes in his mind and body. He opens them again, standing a little straighter. “There are countless choices I regret, but meeting you, sharing those moments together—that is something I will never regret.” He pauses, his voice softening, “and I look forward to the moments still to come.

Lavellan wipes at the tears streaming down her face, her breaths shaky as she steps forward and wraps her arms around Solas, holding him close. “You are more than your mistakes, Solas,” she whispers, her voice soft but steady as she fights to keep it from breaking. “I see the good in you, I know your heart. Let yourself be free of that burden vhenan.” She pulls back just enough to look into his eyes, her own filled with compassion and unwavering resolve. “I forgive you,” she says, her voice trembling. “And I want you to forgive yourself. Your path doesn’t have to be one of endless atonement. There is happiness waiting for you, if you’ll only allow yourself to reach for it.”

She pauses, her fingers lightly brushing his cheek, grounding them both in the moment. “I’ll be there to support you,” she finishes, her voice gentle yet firm, a promise woven into each word.

Solas shakes his head slowly, a look of quiet disbelief in his eyes. He can hardly comprehend the depth of her compassion, her unwavering kindness, and the forgiveness she extends to him despite everything. It’s a grace he isn’t sure he will ever truly understand.

He isn’t sure he will ever feel truly worthy of her forgiveness, despite the ease and grace with which she offers it. All he can do now is continue down this path of atonement and prove to her—and to himself—that he can grow, that he can become the man worthy of her faith in him.

Solas gently takes her hand from where it rests against his cheek, wrapping his fingers around hers. He brings her palm to his lips, pressing a tender, lingering kiss into it, as if sealing a silent promise.

Solas leans down, capturing her lips in a more intense and urgent kiss than before. There is a quiet desperation in his movements that she can feel, as if he needs her with every fiber of his being. His tongue explores her mouth, conveying the hunger he has for her. She shivers at the intensity of his desire. His hands grip her waist, pulling her even closer as he continues to deepen the kiss, his lips eagerly taking hers

His fingertips glide against her flesh, eliciting shivers that run down her back as they trace the curves of her body. His touch is delicate, like a whisper in the night, yet his gaze burns with an untamed hunger. Their tongues intertwine in a sensual rhythm, conveying their intense longing and yearning. He caresses the line of her neck, tangling his fingers in her hair as he intensifies the kiss. She can sense his heart racing against hers, his chest rising and falling with unbridled desire.

As each regret is faced and acknowledged, whether forgiven or not, it feels like a part of the Solas she remembers starts to resurface. The weight of the Dread Wolf, a burden he has carried alone for centuries, begins to crack and crumble, piece by piece, allowing the true man underneath to gradually come back to the surface.

Lavellan leans back slightly, her eyes remaining fixed on his as they both struggle to catch their breath. Her gaze holds a deep love for him, a sense of belonging that goes beyond words, and a spark of hope that she seems to reserve just for him. In turn, his own eyes reflect a profound love, an unbreakable bond, and an overwhelming sense of thankfulness towards her. He looks at her in disbelief, amazed that even in his darkest moments she never lost faith in him - a faith he often struggled to hold onto himself.

Solas longs to pause here, to savor this moment a little longer, but he knows there is still one final regret he must confront before they can truly rest, even if only briefly, before continuing on his journey of atonement.

“Let’s go,” Lavellan urges softly, a smile lighting her face, her eyes still filled with longing. He holds her gaze for a moment longer, letting himself fully take in her presence, her warmth, her unwavering support. Finally, he nods, a quiet resolve settling over him as he steels himself to face what lies ahead.

Four pulses of energy ripple through the air, each one a testament to Solas not only taking responsibility for his choices but fully accepting them rather than hiding from them. As the energy dissipates, the oppressive weight around them lifts, leaving the air feeling lighter, clearer. The glimmer of hope within him grows, strengthening with each beat, as he realizes he may truly have the strength to confront his regrets—one by one.

The next regret is different, larger and more imposing, looming over them like an ancient shadow. Unlike the previous regrets, it does not manifest as a stone statue or a single figure. This regret embodies something far greater—a collective sorrow, the weight of a choice that altered the fate of an entire people.

The manifestation takes form as a spectral, crumbling vision of ancient Arlathan—the heart of the Elvhen empire. Its once-grand spires stand fractured and fading, shrouded in mist, surrounded by faint echoes of what once was: faint laughter, distant voices, and the flickering silhouettes of elvhen figures moving through the shadows. The very air seems heavy with loss, the grandeur of Arlathan reduced to a hollow memory.

This is one of Solas’s deepest regret: the harm inflicted on the elvhen people when he created the Veil, intending to protect them. His well-meaning act had catastrophic consequences that he could not foresee. The Veil severed most beings’ connection to the Fade, robbing most of them of their magic and immortality. The elvhen people began to age, places like the Vir Dirthara—their great repository of knowledge—collapsed, wiping out wisdom, killing many, and leaving spirits wounded and lost.

The echoes rise around them, voices filled with sorrow and accusation.

“We were a people of magic, connected to the Fade, woven into the very fabric of life,” one voice laments, its tone laced with bitterness. “You took that from us. Look at what we have become—mere shadows of our former selves.” Another echo joins, its voice steeped in betrayal. “We trusted you, Dread Wolf, to protect us. Instead, you left us with nothing but fading memories and a world that forgot our names.” A third voice cuts through the air, sharp with anger and grief. “You think you saved them? Look at what you have wrought—a scattered people, broken and lost, bound by chains you once swore to break.”

The words hang heavy in the air, each one a reminder of the unintended devastation his choice brought upon his people.

Everywhere he looks, Solas sees remnants of the world he unintentionally fractured: ruins of elvhen culture, shattered bonds with the Fade, and memories of lives broken by his hand. The enormity of this regret stretches before him, echoing the price of his actions in every corner of the landscape.

Solas releases a heavy sigh, his head bowing in shame as the weight of his choices settles over him. Quietly, Lavellan steps up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing herself gently against his back. Her embrace is steady and grounding, offering silent comfort as he stands before the haunting remnants of his choices.

The air fills with haunting echoes, the voices of the elvhen people reverberating through the ruins. Some call out in desperation, pleading for the return of their lost magic, others casting blame on Dread Wolf, their voices sharp with betrayal and suffering. The cries of spirits resonate in the distance, filled with despair, their words tangled in ancient, forgotten elvhen language.

Faint memories of children’s laughter twist and distort, transforming into cries of isolation and fear, filling the space with a chilling sense of loss. Each voice, each plea, is a reminder of what has been sacrificed, the legacy of a shattered world longing for what it once was.

He takes a deep, steadying breath, his gaze distant as he begins to speak. “In my desperation to save Elvhenan, to seek justice, I acted without fully understanding the depths of what would be lost.” His voice is low, heavy with sorrow and self-reflection. “I see now that my choice did not free us—it bound my people in ways I could never have imagined.”

The weight of his words lingers, each syllable filled with humility and a deep, aching regret, as if he’s only now grasping the full measure of his actions.

His regret reveals a harsh truth: in his fervent pursuit to restore the Elvhen people’s bond with the Fade, he risks repeating the very mistake he made centuries ago—acting without full understanding and potentially bringing irreversible harm to Thedas and its people. The weight of this realization settles over him, a reminder that even with the best intentions, his choices could lead to unintended destruction once more.

The echoes of his regret fall silent, leaving a stillness that hangs heavy in the air. Solas stands motionless, absorbing the revelation that he had been on the verge of repeating the very same mistake. The weight of it settles over him, forcing him to confront the depth of his choices—and the narrow line between his intentions and their unintended consequences.

Behind him, he feels Lavellan’s arms tighten around him, her warmth grounding him in the present. Her voice is gentle yet steady, a quiet reassurance. “Yes, your choices brought pain, but you also did what no one else could. You protected us from a greater darkness, Solas,” she murmurs. “You still have the power to choose—to protect, to create, to heal.” Her words hold a soft strength, reminding him that even now, he holds the potential to mend what was broken.

The vision shifts once more, unveiling a future where the Elvhen people, driven by hope and resilience, strive to reclaim their magic and restore their lost history. Solas watches as they walk freely, renewed with purpose, within the world he had unwittingly reshaped—a world that, despite its scars, now holds the promise of their rebirth. The echoes of their past blend with a vision of their future, a possibility he had scarcely dared to imagine.

Instead of a cacophony of echoing regret, the voices speak in a solemn, unified chorus. “Perhaps your pride blinded you to the truth: some things cannot be restored, and some wounds lie beyond even your power to heal.”

The voices soften, carrying a bittersweet wisdom. “What was lost is mourned, yet what remains has its own beauty.” They continue, their tone shifting to one of gentle admonition. “You wish to restore your people to what they once were, yet their strength now lies in their ability to adapt, to endure.” A pause lingers, filled with the weight of truth. “Pride would demand they return to an old legacy, but wisdom would honor who they have become.”

Solas wrestles with the proclamation of the manifestations, the weight of their words pressing heavily upon him. Yet, deep down, he cannot deny the truth in their voices—a truth both humbling and undeniable.

“Perhaps true atonement lies not in restoring what was lost, but in honoring what has grown from its ashes,” Solas murmurs, almost to himself, before gently guiding Lavellan to stand before him. His fingers rest beneath her chin, softly tilting her face toward his.

“My pride drove me to reclaim the past,” he says, his voice steady yet touched with humility. “But wisdom… wisdom shows me that true strength lies in embracing the world as it is.”

She smiles up at him, her expression warm and knowing, as though she had always sensed he would one day remember his true purpose—and reclaim it. “Atonement isn’t always about changing the world, but finding peace with how it has changed,” she whispers, leaning up on the balls of her feet bringing her face closer to his. In his eyes, a quiet contemplation mingles with desire. “Ah, the wisdom to accept what I cannot change…” he murmurs, his voice both soft and weighted with newfound humility. “One would think, after all these centuries, I might have learned that lesson.”

Lavellan laughs softly, a gentle, affectionate sound. “I’d say you’ve learned plenty,” she teases, her voice warm. “But I’m always happy to help you…” Her voice trails off for a moment, a playful glint in her eyes. “Refine that wisdom.” Her hands slide to his hips, pulling him just a little closer. Solas’s eyebrows lift slightly, catching the suggestiveness in her tone. “You make a very compelling case,” he murmurs, his voice low and rich with desire. “Perhaps I’ve been neglecting certain… areas of study.”

The air between them crackles with intensity, charged with a desire that has lingered unspoken, now impossible to ignore.

Lavellan raises her brow, feigning a look of shock. “Neglecting certain studies? Well, we can’t have that,” she teases, her face still close to his, her lips just a breath away. Tilting her head ever so slightly, she adds, voice soft and inviting, “When would you like to begin?”

He inhales sharply, his eyes darkening with unrestrained desire. “Now,” he breathes, before his lips capture hers in a fierce, consuming kiss. She opens her mouth, beckoning him in.

His mouth presses against hers, his tongue explored her mouth with a primal intensity, causing her to ache with desire. He pulled her in closer, his arms strong and secure around her waist as he deepened the kiss, his lips moving hungrily against hers. The anticipation between them was almost tangible, the air heavy with their mutual longing. With each touch of his lips, she feels herself getting lost in the moment and giving in to his insatiable hunger for her

As they kiss, her fingers trace the intricate design of his leather armor, struggling to find and release the clasp. Solas pulls away slightly, his gaze locked on hers with a fierce intensity. She can feel his chest rise and fall rapidly with each ragged breath, his body tense with anticipation. After a few fumbled attempts, Solas takes her hands in his and guides her deftly to the clasp, their fingers intertwining as they work together to undo it.

Lost in each other, they remain oblivious to the pulse of energy rippling through the air as the manifestation of regret fades, dissolving into the surrounding Fade. The environment around them begins to shift, the oppressive weight of the prison softening into something calmer, imbued with a quiet sense of hope. It’s as if the Fade itself acknowledges the first steps of Solas’s atonement, offering a brief reprieve from the darkness.

The landscape settles into a gentler, more tranquil scene, a silent reminder that while the journey toward redemption may be arduous, there will be moments of peace along the way—moments where the burden will feel a little lighter.

With the last clasp finally undone, Solas hungrily captures her mouth once more. Their tongues entwine, a fiery passion consuming them both. As their kiss deepens, Lavellan's fingertips dance along his chest, tracing the defined muscles beneath his skin. She scrapes her nails lightly against him, eliciting a low groan from Solas as she removes the top portion of his armor. The leather creaks softly as it falls away, revealing his bare torso and sending shivers down his spine.

Their lips danced together in a passionate rhythm, each movement mirroring the other's. His fingers trailed lightly over her skin, tracing the seam of her shirt and gently caressing the curve of her breast. A shiver of pleasure ran through her body as he expertly unbuttoned her top, revealing more of her bare skin to his touch.

Lavellan lets out a soft moan as his fingers work to undo the last button on her top, their warmth causing shivers to run down her spine. Her body responds eagerly to his touch, surrendering to the sparks of desire that ignite within her. He pulls away from her lips and locks eyes with her, his intense gaze filled with fire and passion.

Solas gazes into Lavellan's eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation or reluctance. As his intense gaze meets hers, Lavellan can feel her breath catch in her throat. She sees a raw emotion in his eyes - not just desire, but also a vulnerability that tugs at her heartstrings. In response, she reaches up and gently cups his face in her hands, stroking his cheek with her thumb as she nods, giving him the confirmation he seeks.

With a low growl, Solas captures her lips once more, his kiss deep and hungry. His hands slide beneath her open shirt, pushing it off her shoulders. The fabric whispers as it falls to the floor, leaving her bare from the waist up.

Lavellan arches into him, every inch of her skin tingling at the contact. The anticipation that had been building for ten long years now finally fulfilled in this moment. She savors the feeling of his bare chest against hers, reveling in the heat and electricity that courses through her veins. A decade of desire and longing, now unleashed in a frenzy of passion between them. Solas pulls her close, his arms encircling her as the Fade begins to shift once more. The shadows melt away, giving shape to a room materializing around them, walls forming gently as if crafted from memory itself. The space feels intimate and warm, a quiet sanctuary emerging from the vastness of the Fade, sheltering them in its embrace.

He placed his hands on her shoulders and guided her backwards onto the plush mattress that appeared out of thin air.

Lavellan's breath catches as she sinks into the soft mattress, her eyes never leaving Solas'. His gaze is intense, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths - desire, longing, and a hint of something deeper, more primal. He follows her down, his body hovering over hers, close enough that she can feel the heat radiating from his skin.

"Vhenan," he whispers, the endearment falling from his lips like a prayer.

As she lies in bed, her breath catches in her throat. Solas swiftly removes her boots with a gentle touch, his skilled hands gliding over the laces and buckles. He then moves on to her pants, slowly unbuttoning them and sliding them off her legs with a steady grip. As he looks at her naked form, his eyes roam over every inch of her body with an intense desire that sends shivers down her spine. His hunger for her is palpable, making her skin flush with excitement and anticipation.

The intensity in his eyes is palpable as he kneels between her legs, gazing at her with desire. "You are beautiful…" he whispers, his voice laced with genuine admiration. He pulls her closer to the edge of the bed, anticipation building in both of them. His hot breath caresses her clit, sending electric tingles down her spine. She arches her back and moans softly, unable to contain the desire coursing through her. "Solas," she whispers, desperate for more of his touch.

Solas smirks, enjoying her eagerness. He softly kisses her inner thigh, then another slightly higher. "Patience, vhenan," he murmurs against her skin. Lavellan's fingers clutch at the bedsheets as Solas continues his teasing. His lips and tongue trace tantalizing patterns, moving ever closer to where she needs him most. When he finally flicks his tongue across her clit, she gasps sharply followed by a moan.

Solas hums with approval, the vibration intensifying the sensation. He explores her folds with reverent attention, savoring her taste and the little sounds of pleasure she makes. His hands grip her thighs, holding her steady as he works.

Lavellan's head falls back against the pillows, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her. His hot breath washes over her as his skilled tongue flicks and swirls against her throbbing clit. She gasps and arches her back when he adds two fingers inside of her, slowly pumping and curling them to hit just the right spot.

Lavellan's body trembles under Solas's expert ministrations. His fingers move in perfect rhythm with his tongue, building her pleasure higher and higher. She feels herself approaching the edge, her breaths coming in short gasps. With a soft, breathless moan, she calls out to him, "Solas... please..." Slowly, she lifts her head to meet his gaze. His eyes, a deep and mesmerizing shade of violet, are fixed on her with intensity. Every emotion and desire seems to swirl within them, drawing her in deeper.

He responds by increasing his pace, his fingers curling inside her as his tongue circles her clit with renewed vigor. The dual sensations overwhelm her, and with a cry of ecstasy, Lavellan tumbles over the edge. Waves of pleasure crash over her as Solas works her through her climax, drawing out every last tremor. As she comes down from her high, Solas places soft kisses along her inner thighs, slowly working his way up her body. His lips brush against her stomach, between her breasts,

His arousal was evident, straining against the fabric of his pants. With a cocky smirk, he pulled away from her and made his way to the edge of the bed, sitting down to remove his boots.

Lavellan followed closely behind, pressing her naked body against his bare back. He could feel the warmth of her breath on his skin as she trailed kisses down his neck, eventually finding her way to his ear. When she grazed her tongue along the edge of his ear, he couldn't contain the moan that escaped his lips from the delicious sensation.

When Solas removes his boots, Lavellan moves like a serpent around him and pulls him up onto his feet. Her soft lips eagerly find his and her delicate fingers begin to loosen the ties of his pants, teasingly grazing over his hardened member. A low, guttural moan escapes his lips as he leans into her touch, eagerly assisting her in shedding his clothing. The air is heavy with an intoxicating mix of desire and anticipation as they both give in to their primal urges.

In an instant, she drops to her knees before him, her lips parting eagerly and her hands reaching up to unbutton his pants. Her breath is hot against the fabric as she pulls it down, revealing his throbbing member. She takes him into her mouth, her tongue swirling and flicking along the length of him. The sensation sends shivers down his spine and he can't help but moan in pleasure. Every movement of her mouth is calculated and skilled, sending waves of intense pleasure through his body.

He sits on the edge of the bed, his breath coming in heavy pants as Lavellan's skilled hand deftly removes his pants without interrupting the rhythm of her mouth on his cock. She slows her movements, her gaze fixed on him as she flicks her tongue in slow circles around the tip. Each touch sends shivers down his spine and he grips the sheets tightly, unable to contain the pleasure coursing through him. His senses are overwhelmed by the sight of her beautiful form kneeling before him, her lips caressing him with expertise.

His hands tangle into her long, wavy hair as she slowly releases his member. Her soft tongue glides down his length before circling around his balls and bringing them gently into her warm mouth. As she sucks and licks, her other hand begins to twist and stroke up and down against his throbbing cock. The sensation is almost overwhelming, causing him to moan with pleasure as he loses himself in the pleasure she is giving him.

"Vhenan..." he groans, his deep voice husky with desire. In his voice is a gentle command, one that sends shivers down Lavellan's spine. She hums in acknowledgement as she removes her mouth from his throbbing cock, relishing in the way it twitches under her touch. Climbing back into bed, she lays on her back with a contented sigh, waiting for Solas to join her. He moves gracefully, his body fluid and controlled as he settles over her. Gently, he leans down to capture her lips once more, his hands caressing her skin. Adjusting one of her legs, he delicately drapes it over his shoulder, drawing them impossibly closer.

Lavellan's breath catches as Solas positions himself at her entrance. He pauses, his violet eyes locking with hers, seeking silent permission. She nods, her fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. With a gentle roll of his hips, Solas enters her slowly, savoring every sensation as he fills her completely. The feeling of him inside her after so long is exquisite, a perfect joining that makes them feel whole again

Solas pauses, allowing her to adjust to his size. His violet eyes lock with hers, filled with an intensity that takes her breath away. His hips grind against hers, causing her to moan in response as he holds her close.

Lavellan reaches up to cup his face, her thumb stroking his cheek. "Ar lath ma vhenan," she breathes. At her words, something in Solas seems to break. With a soft moan, Solas leans in and captures her lips in a desperate, hungry kiss. His hands grip her hips as he sets a steady rhythm, thrusting into her with a controlled urgency that makes their bodies collide in perfect harmony.

Lavellan arches her back, drawing him in deeper. Her hands roam over his shoulders and back, relishing the feeling of his muscles flexing beneath her fingertips.

Solas's movements become more urgent, his thrusts deeper and more passionate. Lavellan matches his intensity, her hips rising to meet his with each stroke. Their bodies move together in perfect synchronicity, as if they were made for each other. Soft moans and gasps fill the air as they lose themselves in the moment. Solas buries his face in the crook of Lavellan's neck, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine. His lips trace a path along her collarbone, pausing to suck gently at the sensitive skin.

"Solas," Lavellan whimpers, her fingers digging into his back. She can feel the tension building within her, a coiling heat that threatens to consume her.

Understanding her unspoken request, Solas shifts his angle slightly, hitting that perfect spot within her. Lavellan cries out, her back arching as sparks of ecstasy shoot through her body. Solas's pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he feels Lavellan trembling beneath him. Her soft cries of pleasure spur him on, igniting a primal need within him. He reaches between their bodies, his fingers finding her sensitive bundle of nerves. With skilled, circular motions, he strokes her in time with his thrusts.

Lavellan's world narrows to the exquisite sensations coursing through her body. The coiling tension within her builds to a crescendo, and with a breathless cry of Solas's name, she tumbles over the edge. Waves of pleasure crash over her as her inner walls clench around him. Solas groans deeply, the feeling of her climax pushing him towards his own release. His movements become erratic, his breath coming in short gasps against her neck. With a final, powerful thrust, he buries himself deep inside her, groaning her name as his body shuddering as he finds his own release.

For several long moments, they remain still, bodies intertwined as they catch their breath. Solas places gentle kisses along Lavellan's neck and jaw, savoring the afterglow of their passion. Slowly, he lifts his head to meet her gaze, his eyes filled with tenderness. The air around them seems to shimmer, the Fade responding to the intensity of their emotions.

As their breathing slows, Solas gently rolls to the side, pulling Lavellan with him so she rests against his chest. His fingers trace lazy patterns on her back as she nestles into him, their legs still intertwined. The Fade shimmers around them, reflecting the contentment and peace they both feel in this moment.

Lavellan nuzzles into the crook of his neck, inhaling his familiar scent. "I've missed you," she murmurs, her voice thick with emotion. Solas tightens his arms around Lavellan, drawing her closer as if trying to merge their very beings. His heart swells with a bittersweet ache at her words. "And I you, vhenan, far more than you could know.” he whispers, his voice rough with emotion.

For a long moment, they simply lie there, basking in each other's presence. Solas's fingers trace idle patterns along Lavellan's spine, reveling in the softness of her skin.

Eventually, Lavellan props herself up on an elbow, her gaze searching Solas's face. Her free hand comes up to cup his cheek, her thumb brushing lightly over his cheekbone. "What happens now?" she asks softly, her voice tinged with both hope and apprehension

Solas meets Lavellan's gaze, his violet eyes filled with a mixture of tenderness and sorrow. He covers her hand on his cheek with his own, turning slightly to press a gentle kiss to her palm. "Tomorrow, we will continue on our journey," he says softly. “Together.”

A smile forms across her face. "Together." she echoes, her voice barely above a whisper. Solas leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Rest now, vhenan," he murmurs against her skin. Lavellan nestles closer to Solas, her head resting on his chest as she listens to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His arms encircle her, holding her close as if afraid she might slip away. The Fade shimmers softly around them, a gentle cocoon of tranquility.

As sleep begins to claim her, Lavellan feels a sense of peace wash over her. For the first time in years, she feels truly safe and whole. The path ahead may be uncertain, fraught with challenges and difficult choices, but in this moment, wrapped in Solas's embrace, she knows they will face it together.

Solas remains awake, his fingers tracing gentle patterns along Lavellan's back as she drifts off to sleep. He marvels at the warmth of her body against his, the softness of her breath on his skin. His mind wanders to the path that lies ahead, the challenges they have yet to face. There is still so much to atone for, so many wrongs to right. But for the first time in millennia, he feels a flicker of hope. With Lavellan by his side, perhaps redemption is not as far out of reach as he once believed.

Solas presses a gentle kiss to the top of Lavellan's head, breathing in the familiar scent of her hair. "Ar lath ma, vhenan."

[skyartworkzzz]

have any headcannons to share abt kallamar and his spouses? honestly i dont see a whole lot of people ship kallamar with all four of them at once, i love your interpretations of their designs!!!!

AAAAAA tysm!! Sorry this took a bitsy to respond cuz I was still figuring them out, BUT! I do have some things to say about them now, so check the list under the cut! <3

FIRSTLY I wanna talk about how Kallamar chooses his Disciples:

Being the most narcissistic one among his siblings, Id think that Kallamar wouldnt just pick about anyone to transmit all his knowledge to. Meaning that he'd rather have someone who would without a doubt die for him and be as transparent as they could with their lord, without him having to read their mind or expect betrayals

Out of all the siblings, Kallamar was the pickiest and last one to recruit his apprentices. He was convinced for a while to go without anyone, until he fell in love with his first disciple and made them what they are today From then on, he realized the quickest way to trust someone was if they were completely infatuated with him. So that is the "merit" he goes by and the same one that gained him 3 more Disciples after the first

All of that is to say: yes, if you are one of Kallamar's Disciples, you are also dating him

NOW onto his lovely (and deadly) spouses:

Astaroth (they/them):

The first Disciple

Quiet most of the time

Speaks more through actions

Loves reading

Scary when angry or serious

The most skilled warrior out of all the others being a Witness

Completely obsessed with Kallamar, to the point where they'd kill the other Disciples should they ever turn on him (not that it'd be smtng that wouldn't traumatize them, given they are also in love with the others-)

Main love language is quality time, even if they may not say much

Saleos (he/him):

Quite cranky, doesn't really like people

Isolates himself most of the time

Loves recreational arts and crafts, tho he doesn't let many ppl see it

Used to be in charge of making Kallamar's weapons

Always arguing with Harboryn, but they usually make it up moments after

Awkward with physical intimacy, the others are very patient with him

Loves being praised, especially by Kallamar

Main love language is gift-giving

Harboryn (he/him):

Very fucking smart

Used to be the one to plan routes and conquering schemes for Kallamar (it was also thanks to him that they found Lambert's village back in the day)

Loves physical affection, is very touchy with Baalzebub and Astaroth

Loves being praised, he knows he's good

His narcissistic personality serves for both him and Kallamar to tease each other from time to time

Enjoys Knucklebones or other table games

Argues with Saleos from time to time, but always feels bad afterwards, desperately wanting to make it up with him

His main love language is physical touch or gift-giving

Baalzebub (she/they):

The cute one

Very affectionate, mostly with Harboryn since he's a fan of it

Also pretty quiet, speaks mostly through actions

The second best warrior and the most skilled magic user

Loves weapons, used to be Saleos' main test subject to try his new inventions

Collects seashells

Cuddles up with Kallamar and/or Saleos to sleep

Avoids venting to others, fearing to burden them, so she takes it out by destroying things. That's usually when her partners know she needs to talk

Their main love language is physical touch

And that's all I have for now! Tysm for the ask <333

[sanccharine]

05:53 | mm

pairing: assassin!momo x handler!reader

summary: good speakers are good liars, too bad momo is neither. co-written by @eternallyghosting chapter summary: momo needs a fucking break

warning: feelings of anxiety and burn out, brief mentions of killing and weapons (generally assassination related themes)

word count: 5.8k

a/n: assassin!momo is here early bc of indigo, everyone say 'thank you indigo' !!! NEED TO MAKE THIS EXPLICIT AS POSSIBLE, AS USUAL I DIDN'T DO SHIT <3

“Good work in Johor Bahru, 64. The organization wants you to leave for Bergen right away. Proceed to the airport immediately. I’ll be sending over travel details soon.”

You were met with silence.

“64? Can you hear me?” Momo didn’t answer. 

You sighed, “64, I know it’s a bit of a long flight.” That was the understatement of the century. “But at least that’ll give you some time to recuperate before the next mission, right?”

“I don’t need to recuperate,” Momo mumbled. 

You hesitated for a moment. Clearly, she needed the rest, you didn’t know why she wasn’t being honest. 

“Listen, 64, I know it’s hard—” you began.

“I don’t think you do,” Momo let out a derisive laugh. You swallowed the rest of your sentence.

“Alright, I’ve obviously hit a nerve but I think—”

“I’m not asking you to think! Or sympathise! Or whatever it is you’re trying to do,” Momo spat. “Maybe just do your part of the job and I do mine, yeah, Hippolyta?” 

This was a new development. But not unfounded.

“Sorry,” she said after a few seconds of awkward silence, the waver in her breath caught by your sensitive earpiece. “Sorry, I’m just tired, alright? Please go on.”

“Uh, alright, as I was saying. After this, your Costa Rica mission has been pushed forward by a week. The client wants the cartel taken out as soon as possible,” it was difficult to give her the next order. “I’m afraid you’ll have to leave for San Jose as soon as you wrap up in Bergen, 64.” 

You tried not to let the disappointment show in your voice. Your organization was currently going through an overdrive, which meant more missions kept piling on, leaving no rest for Momo. It had been weeks since you had last seen your wife, last hugged her, or held her. 

She reflected your disappointment as she just sighed. It must be harder for her. 

“Hey, 64,” it was so hard to be personable when you couldn’t say her name. You hoped your voice made up for it. “I’m sorry, I know—”

“You know nothing!” 

Whatever calm had come across her in the last few minutes instantly vanished. 

“You know nothing of what it’s like! What it’s like to be out here for hours on end! To stalk and hunt and kill! Actually, you know, it’s not even about lying in the dirt, or carrying around heavy weaponry, or eating shit for days just to stay undercover. That I can deal with,” Momo let out another scoff. “It’s the waiting that gets to you—it’s the travel, it’s the constant seeking of approval just to get back home… ” 

Once she started, it was hard to control everything bursting out of her. Although she had become pretty comfortable with Hippolyta, and often shared random conversations with them, this was the first time she had let anything personal spill. You couldn’t help but startle initially, but now you just sat there taking the verbal lashing. This wasn’t your fault, you were aware of that much. So why did it feel like it was?

“Mo… hmm, I—” you had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from saying her name. Your heart ached for her. Not just because she was away from you, but also because you couldn’t share this burden with her. You couldn’t help her lighten the load.

Not as her handler. Not as her Y/N. 

You waited for Momo’s breath to even out. When she didn’t say anything, you decided to start again. 

“I may not know what it’s like being out on the field,” you had to tread carefully here. “But I do understand what it’s like being away from your loved one.” 

Your breath hitched when you admitted that. Neither of you had ever let something this personal come into your agent-handler relationship before.

“It’s just the kind of job we signed up for,” that’s all this was. A job. “I won’t deny it’s a shitty situation, but after that one week, you’re done. You can go home. I promise you that.”

The long silence almost had you double-checking the connection of the call.

“Hey, 64, you there?”

You were met with silence.

“Agent, I need an affirmation.”

“... Alright,” she whispered.

It wasn’t much, but you’d take it. After all, Momo had never strayed from official orders before. Not enough to risk her job, at least.

“Wait, what? So you’re telling me—”

“Yup, I’m in Bergen right now.”

“Woah, how did that happen? That must’ve been an insane journey!” you sounded fake to your own ears. You hoped Momo didn’t catch on.

“Yeah, remember when I didn’t answer any of your texts a few days ago?” Momo let out a laugh, there was no mirth to it. “I was on a plane the whole time.”

“I just assumed you lost track of time playing Candy Crush or something.”

That did bring a real laugh out of her. 

“Well, that too,” she said. “Did you know I’m on level 651 now?”

“Real impressive, babe,” you said toying with the earpiece, discarded on the coffee table from your last call. “But anyways, when are you coming back from Bergen then?”

She paused. You saw her pacing around her stuffy hotel room as she hesitantly answered. “Well, actually, I don’t think I can come home right away. They’re sending me to Costa Rica tomorrow.”

“What? Why?” you couldn’t help but glance at yourself in the tiny box on the screen from time to time. You hated how fake your expressions looked, how you couldn’t be honest with her even when she needed you most. 

“I’m so sorry. It’s some internal management thing,” Momo let out a frustrated groan. “They need someone who’s at a higher position to open up the San Jose branch. Just my luck it happened to be me they chose.”

Momo’s disappointed tone broke your heart. You knew this was coming, of course you did, but hearing it once again from your wife’s mouth made the distance much too real all over again.

Still, you tried for a smile. 

“Oh, that’s okay. I’m sure San Jose will be fun. I’ve heard they have amazing museums there!” Knowing how upset Momo was about the constant travel made you want to try harder to be supportive. “Maybe you can go and take goofy pictures in front of the sculptures like we did that one time in Prague, remember?” 

Unfortunately, it seemed that no efforts to cheer her up would work this time. She let out another long groan and threw herself on the bed. Bringing the phone really close to her face, she said, “I really just wanted to come back home. I’m sorry I keep doing this to you.”

Shit. Of all the times to have video called Momo. 

Averting your eyes from her teary ones so that you wouldn’t cry too, you attempted to comfort her. 

“I know how tiring it must be to constantly travel, don’t beat yourself up over it, Momo. And don’t worry about me, okay! I’m fine, truly! I’ll keep everything up and running here while you whip rookies out there into shape. It’s what we do, right?” you were trying to convince yourself instead of her. “Besides, Mr Jones invited us for dinner and I know you really don’t want to have to sit through that again, right?” 

“Still, though,” she whispered, “you shouldn't have to go through that by yourself. I'd rather sit through that than here all alone.”

Oh Momo. If only she knew that you were aware of what she was going through.

“Don’t worry about it! I’ll distract him and ask about his ‘good ol’ golfing days’. That’ll have him chattering on for hours,” she chuckled at that, although it was muffled since half her face was pressed into the pillow. “And I’ll also go down to the store and buy those berries you like so I have a pie ready for you when you come home. We’ll spend our time relaxing. How does that sound?”

She nodded sleepily. Momo must be exhausted to the point of falling asleep right there on call.

You doubted she heard you but said it anyway.  

“Have a good night, Momo. I love you.” 

[11:52] Momo: im boarding now Y/N: Have a safe flight! See you soon <3 Momo: me too, cant wait to be home aaaaa Y/N: I’ll be waiting with your pie!

[16:37] Momo: just landed! Y/N: How was the flight? Momo: eh Momo: were you gonna pcik me up or should i take a cab Y/N: You’ll have to get a cab, sorry. I tried rescheduling it but the town committee meetup is at our place tonight. Momo: omg i legit forgot they still did those Momo: i can take a cab dw Momo: you must be so busy Y/N: Yeah, I’m just making sure all the snacks and drinks are ready. Y/N: Might have to make one more grocery run actually.

[17:20] Momo: found a cab Momo: should be home in 40 mins

She sighed. You must be really busy or else you rarely left her on read.

As the cab neared your street, she could see a crowd of people already gathered around the house. This was what living in a small town was like. Everyone knew each other, and so of course, offered to get together to help for any event you held, no matter how small. 

They have nothing better to do with their lives.

Okay. Perhaps, that was a bit harsh. 

Thankfully, Momo managed to slip into the house, unnoticed by all the townsfolk laying out chairs and tables filled with plates of snacks that you had made. Her stomach grumbled upon seeing all the food, but she hurried upstairs into your shared bedroom before dropping her suitcase and rushing to change out of her travel clothes.

What she really wanted was a long hot shower, maybe even a soak in the tub, but fresh clothes would have to do for now. On her way out of the room and down the stairs, she bumped into you.

“Y/N!” she yelled the same time you screamed. “Momo!”

This would be an incredibly stupid way to die, the voice in the back of your head said, you shushed it quickly and leaned on the stairway railing. The shock had subsided quickly and was replaced by elation; you hugged Momo as hard as you could with the cutlery in your hand.

You broke apart apologetically. “I’m sorry, I wish you could take a rest but the meeting’s starting soon and we’re still missing a few things.”

“No worries,” Momo shrugged it off, though there was no energy in her voice. “Anything I can do to help?”

You passed over the handful of cutlery to her as you hurriedly stated, “Yeah, could you just lay these out for me? And I think we still need to pour some juice for all the kids.”

Momo nodded and went down the stairs two at a time. As she rounded into the kitchen, she wished she’d taken a minute to mentally prepare herself for all the questions the neighbours would no doubt ask her.

She was right. As soon as she went over to the table, she heard. “Oh Momo, when did you get back? Y/N was telling us how you were away for really long.”

Momo forced on a polite smile, she had no idea who she was talking to. Perhaps having files on her neighbours might help, she thought to herself. She made a mental note to ask Y/N how they remembered all these people. “Yes, I had to travel quite a lot for some business-related things, but I’m just glad to be home now.”

“Where was it you went to? Malaysia, was it?” Momo’s vision blurred for a second. “I remember Y/N telling us we had to cancel the meeting two weeks ago.” 

“Mhmm, Malaysia. Then Norway. Now, I just got back from Costa Rica.” Might as well just tell them everything. Sure, why not. Momo tried not to be scornful, she really did. 

“Good Lord, Momo! How do you even manage all that?” That was something Momo wondered herself. “It sure is nice you have Y/N to manage everything here for you while you’re away.”

A burning sensation grew at the corner of her eyes, she would’ve rubbed them if her hands weren’t full of forks and spoons. 

It was a seemingly unharmful statement. 

Well, no. 

There was a bite in there somewhere, Momo was just too exhausted to dissect it. 

Momo ignored the scratchy feeling in her throat and turned away hurriedly, mumbling something about getting the juice out. As she approached the refrigerator, she unceremoniously dropped the cutlery on the counter. She opened the fridge, the cold air doing little to alleviate her tension. When she pulled out the carton of apple juice, she was undertaken with the sudden urge to leave. Being at this gathering was taking more of a toll on her than she had thought.

Momo needed to be alone. Now.

She walked into the pantry and into the cabinet Y/N made sure to leave empty ever since they’d found out about her meditation space. Well, Momo thought bitterly, it wasn’t just a meditation space now, was it?

Momo crouched down, hugging her knees and seeking comfort in the familiar darkness. She could still hear the faint voices of people as they rushed around the house, but this was the best she could do right now.

When Momo closed her eyes, she could feel every muscle pull taut. A headache bloomed at her temple, building down her face until even the act of breathing felt painful. She tried to focus on the warm scent of the ciabatta loaves you always had stocked up. How the bread broke and crumbled as she took a bite. How adamant you’d been to get the best stand mixer available. How you took your time to shape the dough and how Momo had flattened it with one motion. 

What she wouldn’t do to just have a simple sandwich with you. 

No loud music. No clanging cutlery. And definitely no nosy neighbours.

Just the two of you.

The pain seemed to slowly ebb away, she could finally breathe. Momo had no idea how long she stayed like that. She didn’t want to leave but she couldn’t even text Y/N to apologise for leaving them alone because she’d forgotten her phone with her luggage.

However, she didn’t have to wait long before the pantry door opened. 

Momo hid herself deeper in the cabinet when a knock came on its door, an excuse ready on her lips should she be found…

“Momo,” your voice was soft, she wouldn’t have heard it if you weren’t pressed to the door. “It's me.”

Momo visibly relaxed when she heard Y/N.

“Can I come in?”

The answer was the opening of the cabinet door.

As soon as you lowered yourself onto the floor, Momo launched herself into your arms, clutching onto you as though her life depended on it. Confused by the sudden outburst but also suspecting what could have brought it on, you just gathered her closer and gently brushed her hair with your fingers.

“How did you… ”

“Find you here? Couldn't see you in the crowd so I figured,” you shrugged.

“Can we... can we just stay here for a moment?” she sniffled, burrowing her head into your neck.

“Momo, you don’t even have to ask. I’m here for you.”

The two of you stayed like that for a long time intertwining your limbs against each other. You rubbed up and down her arms gently, taking deep breaths so she’d mirror you and relax.

When her breathing returned to a normal rate, you pulled back slightly to look at her face. Although still pale from hunger and exhaustion, she looked considerably better than she had a while ago.

“How’re you feeling?” you whispered.

“Still tired, but I’m okay now,” Momo said, her voice raspy. “Thanks for staying with me.”

You took a moment to take her in. The dim light couldn’t hide the bags under her eyes or how bloodshot they were. She had a pallid complexion, something you would’ve rushed to treat, but instead, you had this stupid meeting to run. But even then, Momo tried to put on a smile for you, as small as it was. Smiling, you pulled her in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. 

With a sigh, you pulled away from her. Her face was held up by your hands. “Although there hasn’t been any yelling or crashing yet, I don’t think it’s right to leave them without a host for too long.”

Momo languidly nodded her assent even when the rest of her body reacted differently. She pressed her forehead to yours until your noses were touching. 

Momo deserved to rest. And you wanted that for her too. If possible, you would have stayed here like this all night long. But alas… 

“I should probably head back,” you whispered. Momo only hummed. “but you can stay here longer if you—”

“No,” Momo mumbled. 

“No?” you asked, not wanting to pull away first. 

Momo did it for you. She exhaled a deep breath before pulling back, her eyes finally looking at you. 

“No, that's fine,” Momo said, shaking her head before helping herself up. Then she extended a hand to you. “We should host together, shouldn’t we?”

“We really should,” you took her hand and pulled yourself up. “I’ve already canceled this three times, I think they’d flip out if it was only me out there,” you said with a grimace. 

Holding hands, you exited the pantry together.

Thankfully, everyone was too caught up in the snacks you’d made to comment on your disappearance. Momo just ignored the few stares thrown her way. Making your way to the front of the living room, you called for everyone’s attention and began the town meeting, steadfastly holding onto Momo’s hand the entire time.

Although the townsfolk had also helped in clearing up after the meeting, there were a few things only you two could rearrange as the people living in the house. You wanted Momo to go upstairs and rest while you quickly cleaned up, but she was as stubborn as ever and refused to leave your side. Fortunately though, having two people definitely made the job go quicker, and before long, you were heading into the en-suite to draw a bath for Momo.

You turned off the hot water at the temperature you knew Momo liked most before adding a spoonful of lavender bath salts to the water, your gift to Momo from when she had returned from a mission complaining of sore muscles. She smiled gratefully at you as she slipped into the tub, leaving you to once again sit on the cold floor beside her. Not that you minded, you’d take any proximity you could get. The both of you just sat there, basking in the comfortable silence as Momo relieved her weary body.

Eventually, you spoke up, making sure to be cautious in the way you approached this topic. “Do you want to talk about what happened downstairs?”

Momo looked at you with a look, a knowing one, but she turned her eyes away quickly. 

“What? About Hector?” Momo managed to laugh, it almost sounded real. “Yeah, it was funny when he stood up and demanded we vote for a stop sign near the corner store, only to realize we’ve had it all along and he needed to change his glasses prescription.”

“Momo,” you took her hand that was laying on the edge of the bathtub. “Seriously.”

She finally turned to face you with a sigh, deciding not to run away this time. 

“I was doing as you said, the cutlery, that is,” Momo’s finger intertwined with yours, she trained her focus on your joint hands. “Someone was asking me questions, I don’t know who, asking about my job and where I’d been and whatnot… and then suddenly,” she paused to take a deep breath, her eyes filling with tears.

You brought your other hand to engulf hers and rubbed your thumb across the back of her hand in circular motions.

“Suddenly, out of nowhere, they said something about how I’m lucky to have you manage everything around here while I’m away,” she trailed off, a small scoff escaping her. Momo mumbled, but you caught every word. “Well, not out of nowhere, they are right. I am lucky. I’m never here.”

“Momo…” 

She continued, talking through her tears, not bothering to wipe them away as they slipped down her cheeks. 

“I just… you’re the one who always has to manage things around here. I just feel bad, you know?” Momo straightened, turning her whole body to face you as an odd resolve washed over her. “Like, I’m always busy flying around somewhere but you always accommodate me and my work. But I don’t do anything like that for you? Actually, what do I even do?” At that, you wanted to stop her, but she kept going. “I guess I feel incompetent? I’m just equal parts grateful for you but also, I feel guilty.”

That was a lot to take in. Momo was never one to bare her soul, so for her to say all this meant she had been bottling it up for quite some time.

“Well, I see it differently,” you leaned in as you formed the words in your mind. “You’re doing all this to provide for us and you work so hard for it. This house, everything we have, is all possible because of you. I could never be upset about that, Momo.” 

“I guess,” Momo sounded unconvinced. “But like maybe I could do more local work? That way, I could stay at home with you and work?”

“As tempting as that is, I can’t ask that of you. I can’t say I don’t miss you when you’re gone. And of course, I love having you around.” 

You spoke slower so the words sunk in. 

“But you’re doing what you have to do,” you tried to be as vague as possible when saying the next few words. “I mean, your company sends you all over the world because you’re a hard worker, and a really good one at that. No one is going to be able to do what you do anytime soon and I’m proud of that. Of you.” 

Momo didn’t say anything, she was staring at something behind your head. Her eyebrows were furrowed together; for once, you couldn’t tell what she was thinking. 

“But the work itself… ” she trailed off, still staring into the distance.

That confession, if that was what she was planning it to be, had you on alert. You had to be careful here. Somehow, you had to glean Momo’s feelings about her ‘actual job’ without asking outright questions about it. 

“What about the work, baby?” you asked. The term of endearment felt sour on your lips. Momo didn’t look at you. 

You had to bite your tongue from interrogating her. Is it monotonous? Is it stressful? Are you having second thoughts about killing? Do you want to be transferred? What’s wrong? What can I do? How can I fix it?

She didn’t speak for a long time. 

Panic was beginning to sink its claws into your skin. You were a good liar, but not that good. 

Fortunately for you, Momo began once again. 

“The work… I mean, sure, every job has its own boring routine and mine does too. It is exciting at times and I’m good at it too, which I can’t confidently say for a lot of other things,” you wanted to interrupt her and tell her how wonderful she was, but she spoke over you. “And I don’t really want to quit right now because we’re also earning decently.“ 

“Enough for an early retirement in the Swiss Alps, right?” you uttered before you could even think about it. 

When she had first been accepted as an agent by your organisation, Momo had excitedly jumped around your tiny one-bedroom flat. Making big talk about how the two of you would buy a cottage in the Swiss Alps and go skiing every day in the winter and strawberry picking every day in the summer.

Reminiscing about the memory bought a real smile out of her. “Exactly.”

But the smile slowly faded as she kept talking. “I just… wish I didn’t always have to keep traveling. I barely get a few days with you before I have to fly out again. And I know that’s a part of my job, it's just that this time around was too long.”

You silently agreed. What was the organisation thinking, making an agent go three weeks out in the field, one mission after the other. You don’t even recall how many cups of coffee you’d downed just to keep up with the time differences. 

“Well, you’re here now,” you placed a kiss over your joined hands. “And we’re going to make the most of it. Hopefully, you get more than a few days this time.”

“Yeah, hopefully,” she repeated, although she sounded anything but.

You bit back the long sigh and nudged her instead, looking for a way to divert her attention. “I couldn’t tell you before, but your pie’s waiting for you in the fridge.”

Momo sat up at that. You jerked back to narrowly avoid being splashed by water. “Me too! Well, not a pie but I did manage to bring back a dessert called Cajetas this time. I didn’t have time to taste it but the lady selling them told me they’re a staple.” 

Her eyes finally regained their usual shine at the mention of the two of you sharing desserts. It had been a longtime tradition for you to bake her favorites when she came back from a long journey, and for her to get local items you both could try together.

“Unfortunately, I’m too stuffed now,” she finally relaxed into the tub, tipping her head back. “Those finger sandwiches were delicious Y/N. What did you put in them?”

“Love,” you said dreamily, before pressing another kiss to the hand you were holding. Momo pulled away and cringed. “What, too much?” you laughed, “besides, I don’t think they were that amazing. You were just really hungry,” you said, poking her shoulder.

Momo just hummed as a comfortable silence fell over the pair of you.

Although the bathwater would’ve been cooler by now, she looked too comfortable to be asked to move. 

By the time Momo finally got out of the bathtub and into the towel you were holding out for her, the water had gone completely cold.

“Ugh, my skin is all wrinkly now”, she complained.

“Hmm I don’t know, it’s giving me a good idea of what you’d look like in another thirty years.”

“And?” she twirled around. “What do you think?”

You gave her a once over. “I think… I think I’ll stay with you for more than thirty years if that’s what you’re going to look like.”

After a quick change into your respective pajamas for the night (with you having to change again due to a mock water fight you two had), you ushered Momo into bed.

“Are you not sleeping now?” she asked, when you didn’t get into bed with her.

“Just about to, don’t worry,” you replied, straightening her edge of the comforter, effectively tucking her in.” Mariko asked for an order of cupcakes for her kindergarten class next Tuesday, so I’m just going to make a note of that before I forget.” 

She pouted, drawing out an arm from under the covers and pulling you down by your sleeve. Leaning down, you had no choice but to look right into her puppy-dog eyes, nearly shutting from exhaustion were it not for Momo resisting her body, fighting to stay open. “I wanted to cuddle but I’m already,” she broke off into a yawn, “falling asleep.”

You kissed her cheek. “Goodnight, I’ll be back before you know it,” you whispered.

“G’night,” she mumbled with drooping eyes.

Your demeanor changed the minute you left the bedroom, gently closing the door behind you. Throughout the evening, you’d noticed how burnt out Momo seemed, and this late-night conversation further proved that she desperately needed a rest. You grabbed your laptop and keyed in a call to your organization, late hours be damned.

“Hippolyta to HQ. Calling in regards to Agent 64.” You waited for the call to go through.

After a few minutes of having to listen to the ridiculous call tone they had put in (seriously why on earth would someone want to listen to that Piña Colada song while they waited to make a serious report), you were about to pull out your earpiece and give up when a bored robotic voice answered, “Hippolyta, your call has now been cued. State your report and wait for an agent.”

You cleared your throat before saying. “As her handler, I believe Agent 64 is in need of a short leave, allowing her time to recuperate and be mentally on track for any and all future missions.” Hopefully, that should be enough to get an agent connected to you.

After another couple minutes of listening to the godforsaken song, a voice sounded on the other end. “This is Baklava to Hippolyta. Your report has been recorded. Do you have other details you wish to share?”

“It’s exactly as I said before. I noticed a change in Agent 64’s behaviour and mental state through her last couple missions, and I believe it would do her good to take a temporary break.”

“Agent 64, huh? Let me see, I’ll pull up her file here.”

“Oho,” you heard after some shuffling on the other end of the call, “so this is the infamous Agent 64 and Hippolyta. I see. Well, I’m afraid I have to deny your inquiry and cannot grant her the break.”

“Wait, what?” you asked, surprised that a decision had been made so quickly. “Why?”

“Clearly, her being your wife makes it a point of personal interest. We can’t really have that, so she’ll continue on her missions as usual.”

“Excuse me, but in all these years, I have never let personal feelings get in between our working relationship.” You could feel your anger rising and had to be careful not to raise your voice too much, lest Momo wake up. “In fact, as her handler, I have made sure to push her exactly as much as she needed to get her missions done. She has a ninety-eight percent success rate, only possible because we don’t let personal feelings get in our way.” 

“Nah, but in this case, Agent 64 has not filed for a break herself. You doing this on her behalf shows vested interest.” 

You didn’t know if it was because of the late hour, but this conversation with Baklava was going nowhere and you were starting to get frustrated. You sighed.

“What’s the matter, Hippo, going soft for your wife? Is that it?” the voice sneered.

You saw red. No one except Momo was allowed to call you that. 

“Grant Agent 64 the break or else you’ll lose not only your best assassin but also one of your best handlers,” you gritted your teeth.

The line suddenly cut.

Fuck.

You didn’t really want to have to go through the whole process of reporting your inquiry again, but for Momo you would do it another hundred times.

Just then, a new voice was heard through your earpiece.

“Hippolyta, this is Shooting Guard. Your report has been transferred over to me.”

Shooting Guard… the name was familiar to you.

“Hippolyta speaking. Not sure how much of my report was transferred over but it’s in regards to Agent 64.”

“Oh yes, I know about your wife, Hippolyta. What’s the matter?”

It suddenly hit you. Of course Shooting Guard was a familiar name. He had been an agent a year above you at the training centre, a hardworking and calculative senior, but friendly once you got to know him.

“Well, I know the organisation has been working through some things right now—” you heard a scoff on the other end, “but 64 has been on individual missions for three weeks straight. She would never say this outright but I can tell the constant travel is getting to her. As… as her handler of course, not her partner,” you hurried to add, lest you were misunderstood once again.

To your surprise Shooting Guard said, “I believe that being her spouse makes you all the more attuned to how she’s doing Hippolyta. And with your spotless record so far, having a spouse as a handler doesn’t seem to be working negatively at all.”

“Does that mean you can get her leave approved?” you asked, hopeful.

“Well, that’s the difficult part. In your words, the organisation is working through things right now,” he chuckled without mirth.  

“Please, just get her a psych eval or something. Anything that grants her a break,” you were coming across as pleading when you should have been firm, but Momo’s wellbeing was at stake here.

“Let me see what I can do.” You heard him hum as he clicked on various files, rearranging calendars and rescheduling appointments, no doubt, before he finally broke the silence.

“I can give her two weeks. That fine?”

“More than fine. Truly, thank you, Shooting Guard,” the stress visibly left your shoulders.

“Don’t mention it. The agents around here need a fucking break anyways.”

You logged off the call once you got the final approval that your report had been accepted. You couldn’t wait to see Momo’s joyous face when she would break the news to you tomorrow. But for now, sleep was calling.

As you made your way back upstairs, a smile spread across your face at the thought of spending the next two weeks with your wife. When you entered your bedroom, Momo was fast asleep, sprawled across the large bed, somehow taking up enough space for two people. You shook your head fondly as you turned off the lights, slipping in beside her. As if sensing your presence, she pressed herself closer to you, wanting to be together even in sleep. You looped an arm around her torso and held her tight. 

Yes, you certainly were excited to spend two weeks with her. But most of all, you were glad your bed would be warm with her presence again.

any feedback is much appreciated.

a/n: so that poll... y'all be impatient as fuck (and i be lazy as fuck bc i think i was the only one who voted for this being split JLDFKSHFK) anyways happy misamo day and have a good day/night !!

taglist: @someone-who-likes-broccoli @happilychaengs

[babymetaldoll]

Are you mine? - Chapter eleven: "The pieces this job takes"

Summary: The Reids welcome little Vinny, and Raven will have to deal with being a sister now. The team has to say good bye to a member, and Spencer will just have to deal with changes one more time.  Word count: 11.094 Warnings: This is a painful chapter for Spencer.  A/N: Sorry I couldn't post last week,  I had an accident (don't worry, I'm ok). I love Anderson's moment to shine in this chapter, and I hate putting Spencer through more trauma. Also, I was so sad writing Raven's tantrum... I totally understand her. 

Series' Masterlist - Author's masterlist

Previous chapter | Next chapter (post date: November 13th)

(Y/N)’s point of view 

Morgan took six months off after what happened to him. He had to recover mentally and physically, which was neither easy nor fast. I know some things happened to him he wasn’t sharing with us, not even with Savannah. He didn’t want to be a burden for her, and that’s a feeling I can absolutely understand.

We saw him a lot though, which was good. We were there for him the day he and Savanna got married in a beautiful ceremony, and he was there for us the day Vincent was born.

Considering the team was down two members, Hotch couldn’t let Spencer stay at Quantico the last couple of weeks before the baby’s due date. Of course, that means I was in the bullpen when my water broke.

Honestly, sometimes I wonder why we didn't leave the FBI sooner. I'm fully aware I keep saying the same the entire time, but it’s shocking how things were a hot mess and we never noticed. Why were we so blind?

I wanted to kill Hotch for forcing Spencer to go with the team to solve a case in Alabama when I was so close to my due date. I understood things were critical without Morgan on the team and with me not being able to fly. But yet, you’d expect some humanity. I guess sometimes work comes first for some people.

My water broke as I walked from Garcia’s office to my desk to pick up some files. I froze on my spot and didn’t know what to do for a few seconds. My mind went blank. That was not supposed to happen like that. Not with Spencer away. And definitely not in the middle of the office.

- “Anderson…”- I looked around me and found him at his desk, typing something.- “Sonny, can you help me?”

- “What happened, Reid?”- ever since I married Spencer, he has loved calling me by my new last name.

- “Uhm… can you come over?”

- “Give me a minute.”- and he kept typing, not even looking at me. I didn’t want to yell I was almost popping a baby right there, but my friend wasn’t giving me another chance.

- “I can’t wait. Please.”

- “Come on, Reid.”

- “Agent Grant Anderson, I need you. Now.”- a few other heads turned as my voice filled the bullpen. Anderson turned to me shocked, but I’m guessing my freaked-out face forced him to bite his tongue at whatever he was going to say and he rushed over to me.

- “What… oh shit.”- he looked at the puddle on the floor between my legs and understood it all in a second.

- “Yes.”- I cut him a short smile and took a deep breath. I had to do my best not to freak out too.

- “What now?”- Anderson whispered, remaining calm.

- “I need you to drive me to the hospital. Garcia is busy helping the team.”

- “Ok, do you wanna call Reid first?”

- “First, I wanna call my doctor. And I need to tell Garcia. Spencer is gonna freak out and there is no need to get him worried when this can still take a few more hours.”- I did my best to remain calm knowing as soon as Spencer knew what was happening, he was ditching the team and taking the first flight back home.

- “Ok, you wanna sit down while I get Garcia?”

- “I don’t wanna get the chair all dirty.”- I argued as Anderson moved a chair closer.

- “Don’t be silly, Reid. Sit down, I’ll bring Garcia and your phone so you can dial your doctor, ok?”- I simply nodded and watched him sprint across the office.

Raven took her sweet time when she was born, but not our Vincent. He was ready to take over the world in no time. Contractions hit me hard and I was worried my husband wasn’t going to make it on time to be with me during labor. Did I tell him? Of course not, I knew he was freaking out and I didn’t want to worry him anymore.

Spencer called me as soon as he could. I didn’t get to him the first time I dialed, so he got the news from Garcia when Anderson was taking me to the hospital.

- “I’m ok, honey. I promise.”- I whispered as soon as I heard his voice on the other side of the line.- “Doctor Feldmann is going to be waiting for me at the hospital, and Frank and Mikey are on their way over.”

- “I’ll ask Morgan to go too.”

- “He has his very own pregnant wife to take care of, hun.”- I reminded him, but I could almost see Spencer’s scowl all the way from Alabama.

- “I can’t believe I am not there with you.”

- “It might take a few more hours, so you’ll be ok. We’ll wait for you to start the fun part.”- I joked knowing there was no way I could predict that, but I needed to give Spencer some peace of mind.

- “I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’ll call you when my flight arrives.”- I heard Spencer sigh at the other side of the line and my chest tightened knowing how bad he felt being away from me at that minute.

- “I love you so much honey bunny. Be safe, ok?”

- “I’m so sorry, chipmunk. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

- “I know. Please, take care.”

- “Ok, nugget. Your mom is on her way with Raven, I got you ice, and some marshmallows in case your sugar drops. I think we are covered. Do you have to start pushing already? Shit, I’m not ready for that. Please don’t start pushing yet.”- Frank rushed into my room, nearly hyperventilating. He paced across the room, clearly freaking out, as I stared at him, and the nurse raised an eyebrow.

- “Is he the dad?”

- “Nope-” I replied chuckling- “He is not even the godfather. Just my best friend.”

- “Basically I’m like a brother to you.”- Frank replied right away, and pretended to be shocked - “And I am not Vinny’s godfather? Are you serious? What are you talking about? I feel betrayed.”

- “I told you, it’s gonna be Mikey. You are Raven’s godfather. You can’t have all the kids.”

- “We are not having this conversation right now. You are clearly sedated.”- I chuckled and stared at my friend, who crossed his arms on his chest and looked at me from the end of my bed.

- “You do realize I haven’t gotten anything yet. I am not even…”- but a contraction stopped my words and ended that silly argument. Frank moved quickly to my side and held my hand tight. He didn’t even say a word, he just stared at me, obviously concerned, and waited until the pain had passed.

- “I’m so not having kids.”- he whispered after a few seconds, making me chuckle.

- “That’s ok, just can you check my vagina and see if I’m dilated already?”- I joked and saw the color leaving his face.- “I’m joking! Go out and wait for my mom. I’ll be fine.”

- “No way. I am not leaving you alone. I’m not getting anywhere near your vagina, but I am not leaving you alone until Spencer is here.”

And he didn’t leave. Frank stayed in my room until my husband got there, five hours later. Morgan, Mikey, and my mom kept me company too. They took Raven to get ice cream from the cafeteria and honestly helped me stay sane. Savannah, who was four months pregnant by then, and still dealing with all the nausea and morning sickness, helped keep me sane during the entire time. She was not only my friend, but also a doctor, and that always helped during delivery.

I will always be grateful for the family of friends we’ve created along the way.

Spencer’s point of view

It was a mess, nothing went as planned. I was in Alabama with the team and took the first flight back home. Garcia called me, nearly crying ‘cos she couldn’t go with my wife to the hospital, she had to work the case along with the team. I froze in place for a few seconds, not knowing what to do first.

- “Anderson is gonna drive her to the hospital. I'll be with her as soon as I can.”

- “I’m on my way.”- that was all I could say before I hung up and turned to Hotch.- “I have to leave. Now.”

Morgan, Frank, and Mikey had to take my place in the hospital while I was away. I nearly got into the pilot’s cabin and yelled at him to take us home faster if possible. Those were the longest four hours of my life, it was torture. I thought I was going to go crazy sitting there thinking my wife was alone in a hospital delivering our baby, and all because work forced me to be out of town.

When I finally got to the hospital, I rushed in flashing my FBI badge to everyone and anyone who could even think of trying to stop me. Am I proud of that? No. Do I regret it? Hell no! I just wanted to be with my wife as soon as possible, no matter what.

- “Reid!”- I heard Morgan’s voice as I rushed down the hall, trying to find the right room. He was with Savannah, Mikey, and Raven.

- “Dada!”- she escaped Mikey’s arms and ran to me. I squatted and opened my arms to hold her. - “Mommy said bad words.”

I chuckled at her comment and kissed her forehead as I stood up and walked toward our friends, who stood up as soon as they saw me.

- “I think today we can spare her a few bad words.”- I whispered into my daughter’s ear and heard her giggle.- “Guys, thank you for being here.”

- “Nothing to thank us for”- Morgan replied immediately- “You should put an eye on your pretty girl. She looked like she was about to pop your kid five minutes ago.”- I widened my eyes, gave Raven to Mikey, and ran to the room.

(Y/N)was squatting on a ball, holding her mother’s hand as Frank kneeled beside her, talking nonstop and looking honestly confused.

- “Oh thank god.”- he mouthered the second he saw me. I rushed in and held my wife tight. She grunted and shook in my arms. That’s when I realized how late I was.

- “I’m here, ma cherie. I’m here.”

- “I know. Vincent is almost here too.”- she whispered and didn’t let go. For a few minutes, it was just us holding each other. I wanted to ask her to forgive me for being so late, but words didn’t leave my lips. Instead, I just kept her close to me for a little longer.

- “I’m gonna get the nurse.”- Sofia said, probably to give us some privacy.

- “And I'm gonna leave this room before our friendship is forever scarred with gore scenes I will never be able to forget.”- Frank added and walked to the door.- “I’ll be out with the guys and my goddaughter.”

- “Thank you.”- that’s all I managed to say, but I’ve always been sure he understood the depth of my words. For a few minutes, it was just us. (Y/N)asked me to help her move to the bed, and I wrapped my arms around her to help her support the weight of her belly.

- “Did you tell Hotch I hate him for keeping you away?”- she muttered in the middle of what was clearly a very painful contraction.

- “Yes, I did.”

I did not. It wasn’t necessary, (Y/N)had made it clear before we left for the case that she was never going to forgive Hotch if the baby was born while I was out of town. The entire team knew it, my wife hadn’t been subtle at all. She stood next to the elevator's door before we left for the case, looked him in the eyes, and said: “If the baby is here and Spencer is still away, I won’t be back for work, ever again.”

- “Good.”- she whispered as I helped her sitting on the hospital bed.- “Honey Bunny, I think I’m ready to push.”

- “Wait just a few more minutes. Your mom is coming with the doctor.”

- “Shit, fuck, for Christ's sake! What shitted mother fucker thought this fuckery was in fact fair for women??!- my wife shouted every curse with such profound heart and pain, it was clear she needed more medication. Who knew when she had gotten her epidural.

- “You know, the first thing Raven told me when I got here was how you had said many bad words today.”- I whispered in her ear as I kept rubbing her back, trying to help her through the pain.

- “I fucking told Mikey to take her out, I didn’t want her to be traumatized and watch me losing it in pain.”- (Y/N)seemed mortified.

- “It’s ok, I told her you were allowed to curse a little today.”- Sofia and a nurse walked into the room, and a doctor followed them a few seconds after.

- “Ok Mrs. Reid, your baby boy seems to be ready.”- doctor Feldmann announced as he sat at the end of the bed and checked on my wife.

- “He feels ready as well.”- she mumbled, doing her best to be strong. I just scooped a little closer and held her a little tighter. I’ve never known what to do during delivery but praying and holding her hand tight. Being next to her while she delivers our babies is magical and agonizing at the same time. I will never love the process, not if I know she is going through an excruciating pain and there is nothing I can do to stop it.

It only took thirty minutes and Vincent Spencer Reid was there with us. His soft cries filled the room and my heart stopped. He was so small, so innocent, so vulnerable. Dr Feldmann placed him on (Y/N)’s chest and she caressed his back carefully, as the two of us stared at him with a loving smile on our lips.

- “Hello baby boy.”- she whispered and her voice shook as tears fell from her eyes.- “Aren’t you a pretty boy. My pretty boy.”

- “Hey there, Vincent. I’m your dad. Hello.”- I ran my fingers down his tiny arm and smiled at him.- “I hope you like baseball ‘cos it’s the only sport I’ve managed to learn so far.”

- “Maybe he’ll teach you, look at those hands, they are so big.”- (Y/N)whispered and touched his fist with her index - “Looks like the hand of a basketball player.”

- “Or maybe he’ll be an artist.”- I suggested and (Y/N)looked at me with a bigger smile.

- “I would love that.”- I stared into her eyes and caressed her cheek a few times, then ran my fingers up to her temples, and wiped a little of her sweat off before kissing her.

- “You did you good, ma cheriè. I’m so proud of you.”

- “I’m glad it went well and that he is here. Wanna go tell the rest?”

- “Not yet.”- I whispered and touched Vinny’s back one more time, enjoying the feeling of having my son there with me for the very first time - “Give me another minute of this.”

- “All the time you want.”- my wife answered and chuckled- “We have a son.”

- “We have a son.”- I smiled at those words and tears blurred my vision for a moment. I had a son, and he was perfect. Life was perfect.

Mikey stood up the second he saw me and his smile mimicked mine as I announced Vinny was there and that everything had gone well. He, Frank, and Morgan hugged me, tapping on my back, and congratulating me. Well, us. I smiled at them as I turned to Raven and opened my arms for her. She was cuddled in Sofia's arms and hesitated for a few seconds before moving toward me.

- “Come on birdy. Do you wanna see mommy and meet your brother?”- Sofia kissed her cheek and encouraged her to go with me, but she still wasn’t sure. I held her and kissed her cheek a few times before announcing.

- “(Y/N)said you guys can come in and say hi after Raven meets her brother. He really wanted to hang out with her first.”

- “Of course man.”- Morgan replied.- “Your baby boy has to meet his big sister first.”

- “I’m not big.”- Raven whispered.- “I’m a baby too.”

I should have seen that reaction coming, honestly. Raven hadn’t been excited during the first few months of (Y/N)’s pregnancy. She actually threw a massive tantrum the day we explained to her what was happening. It hadn’t been easy and Frank stepped up as her godfather and helped her see the benefits of having a little brother. However, we knew Raven would get jealous no matter how. And it was our job to show her nothing was going to change.

- “Baby girl, are you ready?”- I whispered as I held my daughter in my arms and started walking to the room. Raven hid her face on my shoulder and wrapped her arms around me very tight. I could almost feel her little heart beating hard inside her chest. It was a big day for her. The same as it was for us.

- “Hey birdy!”- (Y/N)whispered from her bed, where she sat, nursing Vincent.- “Vinny was just asking for you.”

Raven’s curiosity was bigger than her fear, clearly, ‘cos she slowly moved her face from my neck and turned to look at her brother.

- “Look, that’s your brother, Vincent.”- I sat next to (Y/N)and Raven moved in my arms, trying to get the closest look she could to her brother. She was silent judging the baby. I kept my eyes on her as she raised her little hand and carefully pressed a finger on his cheek.

- “He is so Squishy!”- Raven whispered and giggled.- “Vinny is squishy!!”

- “Yes, he is. And he is very tiny, are you gonna help us teach him all the fun things we do?”- my wife held Raven’s small hand and placed a kiss on it, making our daughter giggle one more time- “Like singing and playing and having tea parties?”

- “Can he wear a tiara?”- I tried not to chuckle at her question ‘cos she was incredibly serious about it.

- “If he wants to, of course.”

- “Don’t worry Birdy. We are still going out every Saturday morning on our dad and daughter dates.”

- “Just us?”- Raven looked at me and her little eyes shone with excitement.

- “Just us.”- I murmured and kissed the top of her head.

- “Do you wanna hold him?”- (Y/N)asked and Raven couldn’t believe it.

- “Yes Mommy!! Please!!”

- “Ok, sit here next to me.”- and as our daughter followed all the instructions my wife gave her and I placed a pillow on her small lap, I stared at the scene unraveling in front of me as I did my best not to cry, but tears kept filling my eyes. My daughter was now a big sister and was holding her little brother in her arms. I chuckled and locked eyes with (Y/N)for a moment. And as we smiled at each other, all I could think of was: I have two kids. Everything I do, I do it for my wife and our two kids.

You don’t know how that thought can change a person. The way it made me feel so much stronger and weaker at the same time. I would do anything for my family. I would fight the world to keep them safe. And at the same time, it petrified me knowing I was now living with my heart outside my chest. They were all I had, all I loved. My entire life.

I never thought I’d have a conversation about this a few months later, with Morgan, right after he came back to the team. We first had a surprise baby shower for him and Savannah in the meeting room. She was nearly on her due date and Morgan was clearly freaking out about becoming a dad, so we tried to help him relax a little and share a nice moment before a big case. (Y/N)was already back working, so she organized everything with Garcia and Savannah. Raven was in Playground and Sofia took care of Vincent while we worked, and though life was crazy, you could say we were managing.

We had a case that very same day that took us to Witchita, a double homicide and a child abduction. It hit differently when they were kids involved. To all of us now, but I’m guessing Morgan wasn’t ready to be back on the field and dealing with something like that.

We were in the police office, just us, going over some information while the rest of the team gathered a few things. I was going over some info, and Morgan seemed lost, sitting there, his mind and thoughts just weren’t in the room with us.

- “The glue our unsub used is sold practically everywhere, so we can't isolate the point of purchase.”- I pointed out as I read one of the files we had.- “A mineral analysis from the sand, however, indicates that it came from the Seneca River in upstate New York.”

Morgan didn’t reply. I doubt he even heard me. I kept my eyes on him as I straightened up and walked a little closer to him.

- “You ok?”

- “Yeah.”- he replied, but his eyes were so sad and concerned it was clear he was not, in fact, ok.

- “Morgan, we're gonna find the people who tried to kill you.”- I said as I sat on a chair in front of him, trying to reassure him that things were going to be ok. But that was not what clouded his mind, not that minute at least.

- “He was in his pajamas.”- he mumbled, staring at a point on the wall. He must have felt I wasn’t getting where he was going, ‘cos he quickly added. - “Ronnie Brewer. Out there by the side of the road, he was still in his pajamas.”

I looked at my hands and took a deep breath. That was a fact I knew, but I was trying my best not to overanalyze it. Not to imagine my kids in his place either. Not to lose it in the middle of an investigation. It’s hard to keep your head cold. You might think it gets easier with the years, but no. It only gets worse. The more you get involved in the cases, the more parts of you you give.

- “I'm sorry, kid.”- Morgan tried to justify his behavior.- “I, uh, I don't know, man. Six months on the sidelines. I guess I still have a few blisters where I used to have calluses.”

- “I don't think that's what this is.”- I say looking straight at his face with a short smile.

- “Oh, no?”- I shook my head when he stared at me confused - “Then what is it?”

- “You're about to be a dad. You know? You have to expect the world to start to feel different.

- “Did it happen to you?”

- “Of course. And it’s terrifying!”- I confessed and tried to be as honest as possible, ‘cos maybe that would help him relax a little. He sighed and held his head with one head for a minute, trying to focus and rearrange his thoughts.

- “It just feels so hard. Not as in difficult. Literally hard.”- Morgan started explaining how he felt. And it was something that I could definitely understand. - “Like asphalt is hard. Like pavement.”

- “And children are soft.”- I added, and the thought of Raven touching Vincent’s cheek saying how “squishy” he was filled my mind and my heart with love and fear. These two feelings that, apparently by rule, always came together in my life.

- “Yeah. Defenseless.”- Morgan added, mumbling under breath.

- “That's why every day we try to make this world a little safer.”- I said and tried to smile at him, though the frown on his face didn’t move.

- “How do you do it? You have two, you’ve seen the worst people can do.”

- “We are making a change, one day at a time. I will never look at the world the way I did before I was a father. But it helps knowing there are people like us, catching bad guys. I guess focusing on the good instead of the horror is what keeps me going.”

Morgan stared at me in silence, like analyzing everything I had just said. For the first time in my life, I felt like he was the one who needed my help. I was usually the one lost in a world with too many messages I couldn’t understand. And Morgan was the one helping me decoding them and teasing me about it.

But not this time.

- “If there's one thing I'm sure of, is that you and Savannah are going to be great parents.”- I added and smiled at him. Morgan chuckled and realized the position we were at. Me, giving him advice for once.

- “Charge by the hour, Doc?

- “Yeah, but you need to book your appointment at least two days ahead.”- I teased and my friend finally laughed. For the first time in what seemed to be years.

(Y/N)’s point of view

I tried to be rational. I swear. But after baby number two and going back to work, I hated how everything had changed. I could feel it around me, and I know Spencer felt it too, though I’m not sure if he felt it at the same level I did.

It was clear Morgan was leaving. I could feel it in my guts the second he walked back to the bullpen after those six months away, and I tried to prepare my husband for it. Change is part of life, that I can not change (see what I did there?). But that doesn’t mean we are always gonna love each one of the changes of ties that life sends our way. Derek had the right to start a new life, and the time felt right. It made me wonder, yet again, if leaving the BAU was the right path to follow. But at that time, it didn’t make as much sense as it does now. I guess I wasn’t ready to deal with everything that would unravel with time.

One of those things was so embarrassing I kept pushing it aside and failed. But it was so incredibly embarrassing, that I couldn’t tell anyone but Lu.

I was jealous. Seriously jealous. Of JJ.

At that time it was mainly because my stomach kept telling me there was something odd about how sometimes, especially during cases. She acted somehow territorial about Spencer. Like he was hers. That made no sense, obviously. He was my husband and only her friend. I wasn’t proud of how I felt, but a voice deep inside of me kept warning me about her attitude.

But instead of listening to my instinct, I tried to bury it. I excused my own brain, telling myself it was all because I had just had a baby and I was feeling insecure. Which was probably true, in part. But there was something about how JJ always found an excuse to be close to my husband that bothered me the second I came back to work after my maternity leave.

It didn’t really help that we were under similar conditions. Both had two kids and husbands on the field. A very demanding job, eyes for Spencer the entire time he was around. And it felt like she had her shit together, not like me, who struggled every day. Not JJ. She was fucking perfect. From her hair to her attitude and her outfits. There was no way she was a mother of two, her body was, for lack of a better word, perfect. I was filled with stretch marks underneath my clothes, making me feel incredibly self-conscious. I knew it was normal, I had two babies, my body was going to change, and Spencer seemed to be ok with that. But it felt unfair. JJ looked the same. I looked like a mom. I hated it.

- “You do realize you are being incredibly hormonal about this. Right?”- Lu suggested one afternoon when I managed to call her in between kids, cases, and house chores. Spencer had taken Raven to the store to get some things I needed to cook dinner, and Vinny was napping. So I called my friend as I started catching up with laundry.

- “Define being hormonal, please.”

- “You are not being rational, and you always keep your head cold, and this is so not you. Who cares about JJ? Spencer loves you!”

- “I know, but… she is so much better than me in every single fucking way. It’s annoying.”

- “That’s all in your head!”- I could basically hear my friend’s grin through the line. - “All this ‘cos you are no longer a size… what’s your size again?”

- “No! all this ‘cos I feel like a big fucking failure!”

- “How are you even failing? You do more in a day than Frankie does in a year.”- I tried not to chuckle at the comparison because I was trying to show her how upset I was.

- “I mean it, Lu! I know this is not a competition, but what if Spencer realizes I am a shitty wife, a lousy mother, and a sickening sight when naked.”

- “Aren’t you being silly? That man has loved you since before he could even start talking to you or even looking you in the eye. So stop it.”

- “He loved her first”

- “He had a silly crush on her before he met you. That’s it. You’ve always felt threatened by her. It’s not just now. And that’s because you can not believe something this good could happen to you. But it did, so be grateful and enjoy it.”- Lu gave a very compelling speech, I gotta admit. But one thing kept bothering me.

- “What if she is in fact in love with him and tries to do something?”

- “Then she is the most stupid FBI agent I’ve ever met.”

I remember chuckling at her response, thinking if JJ ever tried to make her move on my husband, not only I was going to go absolutely unsub with her, but probably Lu, my mom, and even Frank and Mikey could definitely bring her down.

But, much as I tried, things had changed. I could feel it. It was obvious even when nothing was happening at the bullpen. And it was clear the second Morgan came back to work. He wasn’t the same man that had left six months earlier. None of us were anymore.

The last case we worked with Morgan was the worst we had had since he had been kidnapped.

Savannah got shot. That day we were about to leave the bullpen when Garcia got the call. Spencer was talking with JJ as I grabbed all my things, already late to Raven’s school spring recital. Our daughter was so excited about the recital, her class was going to sing a song and she had practiced for weeks. She was confident she was good at it, and all she could talk about was how much she wanted to show her dad how well she and her friend were going to sing. It broke my heart to miss that show. I know it broke Spencer’s as well.

Pen rushed over, tears already falling down her cheeks, as she explained what had just happened. Morgan was at the hospital with Savannah. They were trying to save her and their baby. Things didn’t look good. In a second we were running to the elevator and Hotch drove us to the crime scene.

You don’t know how hard it is to call it a “crime scene” when it’s the place your friend was hurt. Hotch tried to keep Derek out of the investigation for obvious reasons, Morgan wasn’t in his right mind. None of us were, to be honest. But I knew keeping him out of the investigation was basically impossible. So I entered mode S.A.A Reid, and hid all my fears and worries, even my daughter’s deception (I knew I was going to deal with that later). I needed to help our friends.

I called my mom from the car. I tried to explain what had just happened and why we couldn’t be there with our daughter. We jumped out of the SUV as soon as we got there, Morgan was trying to cross the police line, looking like a madman. I heard him yelling “That’s my team” before JJ walked over and explained to the police he was in fact an FBI agent and not a psycho. I couldn’t blame him, I would look the same if my family had been hurt. I know I did when it happened. You see red when they hurt someone you love.

- “Tell me you got something.”- Morgan demanded, fire in his eyes as he spoke to us.

- “A casing and a rifle up on the roof.”- Rossi explained in a single line everything we knew.

- “This guy isn't sloppy. He's sending us a message.”- JJ added, but really didn’t say anything new. I turned to Morgan and held his hand for a moment, giving it a small squeeze, trying to comfort him. He was hot, and anger was running through his body as adrenaline kept him going.

- “Garcia, we need to access the surveillance footage.”- Hotch said and Pen nodded immediately.

- “Of course. I'm on it.”- and off she went.

- “What else we got?”- Morgan asked, and none of us said a thing. ‘Cause of course, after fifteen minutes, we didn’t have much to add.

- “That's it right now.”- Rossi sighed and shook his head

- “Where were you and Savannah standing?”- Spencer asked, first ‘cause Morgan was the only witness we had, and even under the stressful conditions he was under, he had to tell us what he saw. And second, ‘cos we had to keep him busy or that man was going to go crazy.

- “We were standing right over there on the side of my truck. We were just talking. She was to the back and I was facing her. I was the vulnerable one. I was the easy shot.”- Morgan finished that sentence screaming.

- “How's Savannah?”- I whispered, trying to calm him down.

- “She's in surgery.”- our friend’s voice was cracking, just like his strength. I grabbed his arms and pushed him with me to start walking.

- “Come on, let's check in. Rossi, are you coming?”- David nodded and started walking along with us.

- “You guys got this?”- Morgan asked and looked at the team. Spencer nodded and looked at me for a moment. He confessed sometime later that all he could think of that minute was that if that was me in the hospital, shot, he’d kill whoever was responsible for hurting me. I never forgot it 'cause I kept thinking the same thing.

We checked in at the hospital, where Rossi did most of the talking, and then we sat in a waiting room on the second floor.

- “Metro PD's gonna secure all the windows and have an officer placed in front of Savannah's room 24/7.”- David explained as Morgan walked and nodded, like a zombie.

- “Thanks.”- he mumbled though I know he didn’t process what Rossi had just said.

- “I got us a conference room down the hall to work in, and I'm getting access to the security cams right now.”- Penelope announced as she walked into the room, nearly hyperventilating.

- “Great. You two need coffee?”- Rossi offered

- “I’m good.”- Garcia replied immediately

- “No. Thanks.”- Morgan nearly bit Rossi’s head off as he replied. I couldn’t blame him, though, he was under stress, and he was going to be a nasty asshole until he knew Savannah was safe. Rossi looked at me and asked.

- “No cream, no sugar?”

- “Thank you.”- I whispered and cut him a short smile as he walked out of the waiting room.

- “Tara's donating blood in case Savannah needs more. It turns out they're the same type.”- Pen added as Morgan continued pacing across the room.

- “I’m a universal donor. I’m gonna sign up to donate for her as well.”- I said and turned around to leave. I knew Morgan well enough to leave him be for a moment. Now that he was in the waiting room, pacing and with Garcia, I could be useful somewhere else.

I was still signing papers when I heard Morgan storm out of the waiting room, smashing a pile of paper towels in a cart he found on his way down the hall. The nurses winced and I sighed as I grabbed my phone and read my husband’s text. Hotch had taken Morgan officially off the case.

- “Is he ok?”- Spencer texted me.

- “Nope. Stormed out. I’m donating blood for Savannah.”- I quickly replied. A nurse asked me to follow her to another room and got me ready to

- “Looking at the footage with JJ in the conference room.”- my stomach tightened at the thought of him and JJ being alone. But we were at work, and doing something incredibly important and personal. There was no time for jealousy.

- “I’ll be there in a second.”- I replied and put my phone back into my pocket. The nurse asked me to raise my sleeve, and for a couple of minutes, all I could do was pray for Savannah’s health.

- “So if security footage has no angles of the shooting or the rooftop, where does that leave us?”- Rossi asked as we all stood around the table, trying to find something new to call a clue that might lead us to the shooter.

- “We're running facial recognition on everyone in and around the hospital to see if they match any loose ends from Morgan's abduction.”- JJ announced as I sipped on my coffee. Hotch walked into the room that second. It had taken him an extra fifteen minutes to get there after I was done donating blood, which only meant one thing: whatever Morgan had said to him, got to him.

- “How did he take it?”- Spencer asked what we all knew had happened. Hotch’d face didn’t move when he simply replied

- “As expected.”- and that was all we talked about our friend’s emotional tantrum.

- “Sir, I know that when Morgan was on leave after his abduction, you encouraged him to stay away from the case.”- Garcia started explaining what we had all done behind Hotch and Rossi’s back.

- “And let me guess, he didn't.”- David interrupted her, and we all shook our heads.

- “We all knew in our hearts it wasn't over, and, look, we were right, so in an extra-curricular kind of way we kept sleuthing to see who was working with John Bradley.”- Garcia explained and I looked at Rossi with a shy and almost innocent smile.

- “Everyone needs a hobby, right?”

- “You of all people here have enough going on in her end to add more to her table.”- Rossi argued and Spencer frowned.

- “I helped her.”

- “Getting her pregnant again isn’t helping.”- David joked, and Hotch ignored us as he started talking.

- “Before he came back to work, Morgan said that he'd found a connection between the men who held him at the cabin and the Montolo family.”- Hotch added, looking at Rossi, who seemed lost. Like he never saw coming the fact none of us was going to let Morgan’s kidnap go.

- “Right. So, basically, we're dealing with a big crime family tree, of which Bradley was certainly a branch. And the Montolos had hired him multiple times.”- Garcia added, simply explaining we were obsessed with his case.

- “Did you scan the drawing?”- I asked her and she nodded.

- “Yeah, it's right here.”- at those words, Spencer leaned closer to look at the screen with me.

- “So, has everyone been working on this?”- Rossie asked, surprised.

- “Yeah.”- I said not taking my eyes from the screen.

- “Basically.”- my husband supported me.

- “Kinda.”- Pen added with a shy/busted smile and then she started explaining what we had. - “Ok, with Morgan's research, plus our bad guys/gals tree here, we've cut all the legs off the evil table. So like look… you got assassin mother, father, siblings, all deceased, one aunt in therapy for family trauma, and each line is like that.”

- “Montolo's line's the shortest of them all.”- Spencer pointed out - “The only living child of Chazz and Rosemary Montolo. Rosemary died when Giuseppe was just a boy.”

- “When you thought your family was fucked up…”- I shook my head at my own words, trying to ease the mood ‘cos for the life of me, I can’t deal with so much gravity from time to time.

- “Right. And then Giuseppe went to live with his family in Italy, and Chazz went off to build a criminal empire.”- Pen added. Rossi walked to me and grabbed one of the files.

- “Looks like Chazz Montolo was killed last year.”

- “Yeah, in a bank fire in Germany. Got a positive I.D. On the dental and fingerprints.”- Pen even showed him the newspaper of the fire.

- “One week after his son was murdered. What if that's not a coincidence?”

- “So whoever poisoned the son also killed the father.”- JJ suggested, but I shook my head, reading Hotch’s mind.

- “Or he staged his own death so we wouldn't suspect him of this.”- I said and felt Spencer’s hand resting on my lower back as I spoke, supporting and comforting me.

- “Hey, wait, wait, wait.”- Pen suddenly freaked out and started typing as fast as she could- “I only ran facial recognition on living people for obvious reasons, but this guy right here, walking out of the hospital, this guy, that is… That's Chazz Montolo.”

- “Well done, ma cherie.”- Spencer whispered in my ear and I turned to smile at him for a fraction of a second. We were finally going somewhere.

- “Garcia, play the footage.”- Hotch asked, and a few seconds later, we were all able to watch Montolo senior walking out of the hospital.

- “Mother fucker.”- I whispered thinking that asshole had been there with us in the building.

- “Garcia, contact the city, get access to traffic cameras. Now that we know he's here, we can find out where he went.”- but her phone ringing freaked her out before she could do anything.

- “Oh, wait, Morgan's calling me. I told him I'd keep him in the know before I knew it was an order that he wasn't supposed to know.”

- “All right.”- Hotch sighed and looked at me and my husband. - “Reids, you talk to Morgan. JJ, you and Garcia track Montolo and find out who his accomplices are. He doesn't work alone. Dave, you and I will find potential witnesses who might have seen him on the property.”

And before we could even argue or plan what we were going to tell our friend, we were forced to move and face him.

- “Wait, wait.”- I grab my husband’s sleeve and stop him- “We should get him something.”

- “I don’t think he is hungry.”- Spencer raised an eyebrow as he stared at me.

- “Still. Maybe something to drink to warm him.”

- “You wanna stress him more by adding caffeine to his body?”- he questioned me.

- “Hot chocolate?”

- “He will throw it on our faces.”- Spencer was probably right, but he could read my worry.- “Green tea?”- I nodded and walked to the closest vending machine.

- “Raven must be so angry with us.”- I whispered as I pushed a few buttons on the machine, and a cup with some suspicious-looking tea appeared in front of our eyes.

- “I know.”

- “We are gonna have to deal with her when we get home.”

- “I know…”- Spencer sighed and rubbed his hands against his face, trying to rearrange his thoughts. - "I really can’t deal with that right now.”

- “I know, I’m sorry. I just can’t stop thinking about her and Vinny, and if any of this happened to them, or you.”

- “I understand, ma cherie. So much.”- Spencer moved a step closer and kissed the top of my head.- “But right now we have to focus on helping Morgan. Ok’”- I just nodded and grabbed the cup of tea.

- “Ok.”- I looked at my husband and took a deep breath. I know he was doing his best to keep his head cold and focus on the case- “Alright, let’s do this.”

Morgan was back in the waiting room. He kept pacing, still looking like a madman. But now he was an angry madman. Angry with us ‘cos he knew we were keeping things from him.

- “Were you with Garcia?”- he asked as soon as we walked in.

- “Yeah.”- I replied and tried to smile at him, to maybe calm him down, or make him feel less threatened- “Here, we brought you a green tea.”

- “It won't make you as jittery as coffee.”- Spencer offered the cup to our friend and he grabbed it, but not without reading every single movement the two of us made. It was annoying, Frank was right.

- “You came instead of Garcia because you know I'd be able to read her.”- Morgan didn’t ask, it was a fact.

- “That is correct.”- Spencer nodded and whispered.

- “And Hotch sent you both here to see if I'm stable.”

- “He didn't say that, but…”- my husband made a pause and I just sighed.

- “Let’s say we were the chosen ones ‘cos Hotch trusted we could read you, and if you were too angry at him, we wouldn’t take it personally in case you’d yell.”- I couldn’t lie to Morgan, so I didn’t. He nodded and didn’t even try to say he wouldn’t yell. It felt good to know we were above that bullshit.

- “I don't get jittery.”- of everything we said, that was what Morgan wanted to point out. Why? I don’t know. Maybe that was an insult in his mind. He moved to the other corner of the room and left the tea on a little table Food, he wasn’t going to throw it in our faces.

- “Usually you don't, but your carotid tells a different story.”- Spencer started rambling- “I've counted 10 heartbeats in the last 3 seconds. That's about 20% higher than your usual when you're under stress.”- his voice was soft and almost shaky. My husband was nervous and worried. Scared.

- “I know you're only trying to protect me, I get it, but knock it off.”- Morgan nearly yelled, annoyed with his speech- “I just want to know what you've learned.”

- “Seriously, Derek. You know we can’t tell you.”- I sighed and shook my head.- “So don’t take it with us. We are just trying to help.”

- “If you were trying to help you’d tell me what the hell is going on”

- “We are doing our fucking best. That’s what’s going on.”

I know we didn’t plan it, but Spencer and I were doing the old “good cop, bad cop routine.” And I was the bad cop. Again.

- “When you first told me about Savannah, I'd never seen you like that.”- my husband started talking and his voice was still soft and sweet, trying to keep it together. - “The decreased levels of central serotonin in your brain cause intrusive thinking. When I finally saw you guys together, that's when I knew for sure. Your pupils dilated, your posture changed, and I saw you involuntarily reach for her hand. Science confirmed it. You've found the one.”- Morgan stared at him, speechless. - “Do you believe that?”

- “Yes.”- Derek replied, not an inch of hesitation in his voice.

- “Then believe this. Our team loves you, and we are not going to stop until we find whoever did this. But we can only do that with a completely dispassionate and unprejudiced point of view. Paternal instinct is a deadly bias that we just can't risk. It's for your protection, Morgan, I swear.”

- “Ok.” - Derek answered coldly, though you could almost hear the cogs in his brain going a hundred miles an hour.

- “You would do it for us, wouldn’t you?”- I asked him, and Morgan raised both eyebrows- “If we were you and you were us, you would try to keep us away from the information. Try to keep us calm. We did it with Kate when her niece was taken. Hotch and JJ did it for us when he pretended Em was dead. We did it for Garcia when the Dirty Dozen was trying to kill her. We’ve all done it. ‘Cos that’s what families do, they protect each other.”

- “The unsub is a father, isn't he?”- Morgan ignored my speech and looked right into Spencer’s eyes.

- “Why do you say that?”- my husband lied between his teeth as Morgan analyzed every single one of our movements.

- “A paternal instinct is a deadly bias? Those were your exact words.”

- “I meant… we are both fathers…”- Spencer was nearly sweating and I didn’t know how to help him.

- “I know what you meant. But that's what you said.”- Morgan stared at us, and neither of us said another word. So he simply walked away from us.

- “Shit, shit, shit.”- Spencer whispered and closed his eyes.

- “It’s ok, honey. We both knew it wasn’t going to be easy. And we would be the same under these sick circumstances.”

- “I know, I just…”- Spencer bit his lips as tears filled his eyes.- “I wish there was more we could do. He doesn’t deserve this.”

- “Who does?”- I held his hand and gave it a soft squeeze.- “You did well. It’s just hard keeping things from a profiler.”

- “He is my brother. And someone hurt his unborn child and wife. And all I can do is tell him things will be ok.”

- “We can help him, but he has to trust us.”- my phone ended our conversation. It was my mom, which only meant one thing: Raven’s presentation was over. And she knew we weren’t there.

- “Hello?”- I whispered and closed my eyes.

- “Mama…”- it was worse than my mom. It was Raven.

- “Hey there, birdy. How was the recital? Did you have fun?”- Spencer moved closer and I put our daughter on speaker. - “I’m with your dad at work. We are both so sorry we couldn’t be there today, Raven.”

- “Emma says I don’t have a mom or a dad.”- Raven was crying, and my heart broke as soon as I heard her.

- “What? Why?”- I knew Emma, she was three and a half years old, but that night, I wanted to kill that brat. I’m not proud about it.

- “You are never there.”- Raven wept and all I managed to do was hold Spencer’s hand as I turned to him. His tears ran down his face as he tried to get himself together.

- “I’m so sorry, Birdy. But we have to get the bad guys.”- my voice shook at the end of the sentence.

- “Why is it always you? Why can't Uncle Derek do it?”

- “Oh, Birdy”- Spencer mumbled and took a deep breath, trying to get himself together.- “We are helping Uncle Morgan right now get the bad guys.”

- “I just wanted to sing for you.”- Raven kept sobbing. - “Why don’t you love me?”

- “Raven Marie, we love you so much.”- I managed to say before I broke into tears. I hid my face in Spencer’s chest as he continued talking.

- “Your mom and I are very sorry we couldn’t be there today. We promise we’ll make it up to you.”- Raven didn’t reply, instead we heard my mother’s voice on the other side of the line.

- “I’m sorry kids. She wanted to talk to you.”

- “Thank you for taking care of her, Sofia.”- Spencer managed to say. I know he was trying to be strong, but honestly, both our hearts were broken.

- “Frank and Milkey came along. We are having ice cream and then I’m gonna take her home.”

- “We’ll pick her up as soon as we are done here.”- Spencer added.

- “Take care, kids. I know you are doing the best you can. And she will see that when she is old enough.”

- “Thank you, mom.”- I whispered and tried not to sob too hard.- “We’ll call you later, ok?”

- “Sure, peanut. Love you.”- I couldn’t talk anymore. I just broke into tears one more time as Spencer hung up and placed the phone in my pocket.

- “It’s ok, ma cherié”

- “It’s not ok. This is what I always hated about my dad’s job. This is what I swore to myself at ten years old I was never going to put my babies through!”- I sobbed against his sweater, feeling like the worst mother on earth. The sound of Raven’s cries on the other side of the phone had been way too much for me to deal with, especially considering what was going on.

- “This is wrong.”- I murmured and tried to put myself together. - “We don’t have time for this now. Derek needs us.”

- “It’s gonna be ok.” Spencer whispered as he wrapped his arms around me tightly. - “We are not going to miss any more recitals. And she is going to forgive us. She knows we are doing this to help other people.”

- “Spencer, she is about to be four, she doesn’t have to understand this. She needs her dad and mom.”- my husband kissed the top of my head and sighed.

Spencer’s point of view

The night Morgan became a dad was the night I understood he was going to leave us. My wife had pointed it out a few times before that, trying to prepare me for that moment, but I didn’t want to believe it. I thought we were going to be a team forever. But he had a new team. One that was more important than anything else.

It made me feel I was a lousy father for a moment. He was quitting to make sure his wife and kid were alright. It was something I had thought of many times until that day, but I had never found the guts to do it. I couldn’t blame him, though. He had been through hell and back.

Meanwhile, I kept overanalyzing everything that had happened that day, hell was waiting for us when we picked up our kids from Sofia’s house. Raven had refused to sleep and also refused to talk to us. Vinny was fast asleep when (Y/N)held him in her arms and kissed his forehead. Sofia offered us something to eat, but we just wanted to get home and get some rest. It had been an eternal day, and seeing our daughter’s teary eyes and hardened face made it even worse.

- “I don’t wanna.”- she argued right away as I tried to pick her up. Raven kept fidgeting every time my hands tried to reach her.

- “Come on, baby. We have to go home. Don’t you wanna go to bed? We can have a special breakfast tomorrow.”- I offered her, but she hid behind Sofia and started whimpering.

- “No! I don’t love you!”

- “Birdy, you don’t mean that.”- I whispered as I knelt closer to her. She stayed behind Sofia’s legs and refused to even look at me. Her eyes were filled with tears and I could see her struggling to both stay awake and not to cry. It was heartbreaking.

- “Raven Marie, we talked about this.”- Sofia moved and took my daughter in her arms carefully.- “Your mom and dad had to work tonight and they couldn’t go to your recital, but they still love you very much.”

But our daughter ignored my words, (Y/N)’s words, and her grandma’s words. Instead, she decided to give us the silent treatment and ignore us all the way back home.

(Y/N)made us some tea after she put Vinny in his crib, and I was struggling with Raven’s bedtime. She didn’t speak but refused to brush her teeth and put on her pajamas.

- “Birdy, I know you are upset. And you have all the right to be mad at me and your mom.”- I whispered as I sat on her bed and put my hands on her shoulders, trying to make sure she was paying me attention.- “But you have to know your momma and I were helping Uncle Derek. No one is more important than you, but when someone needs our help, we can’t turn our back on them.”

Raven refused to look at me, but at least she got into bed. I read her a short bedtime story, kissed her cheek, and wished her a good night before I left the room.

- “How is she?”- my wife asked as I walked into our room. She was already in bed, sipping her lavender tea.

- “Still angry.”- I untied my tie, left it on a chair, and unbuttoned my shirt before falling on our bed.- “She didn’t say a word.”

- “And she is just three… I don’t wanna think of our lives when our girl is a teenager.”- (Y/N)cut me a short mile, but it was clear she was trying to make lights off of what was happening.

- “I’m glad we still have a few more years until then, ma cheriè.”

We both stayed quiet for a moment. I grabbed the cup of herbal tea my wife had left on my bedside table and took a long sip.

- “Am I a bad mother?”- her whisper broke the silence and made me whip my head immediately.

- “You are not. Of course, you are not.”- I held her hand and kissed it, as tears fell from her cheeks.

- “We broke her heart, and she is three years old.”

- “She will forgive us.”

- “But how do I forgive myself?”- my wife broke into tears and I wrapped my arms around her, sitting her on my lap. I wanted to be strong for her, I wanted to find the right words to make her feel better. But I had nothing, ‘cos honestly, I was feeling very low.

- “Maybe we should quit.”- it was the first time one of us had said it out loud. I froze at her words. I didn’t see it coming. But my wife had been brave enough to say the words that had haunted my mind so many times.

- “Quit?”- I asked, half shocked, half confused. - “Morgan is gonna leave, what will do the team without us?”

- “What will our kids do without us?”

And I didn’t know what to reply to that.

- “Mommy…”- Raven’s voice ended that conversation, or the start of it. She stood at our door holding the stuffed unicorn Mikey had given her.

- “What is it, birdy?”- (Y/N)asked, sitting on our bed, whipping the tears from her face quickly.- “Did you have a bad dream?”

Raven shook her head as she walked slowly toward the bed. Her big brown eyes were filled with tears, and she kept biting her lower lip, the same way her mother always does when she is nervous.

- “Do you wanna sleep with us tonight, birdy?”- (Y/N)whispered and tapped on the bed. Our daughter nodded but didn’t move from the spot she was standing at. My wife stood up and took a few steps until she stood in front of Raven, kneeled, and opened her arms to our daughter, who nearly ran to her and wrapped her arms around her neck, sobbing.

- “I’m sorry mommy”

- “It’s ok, baby. I’m sorry too.”

It was such a moving scene tears fell from my eyes as I stared at my wife and daughter hugging as they lay on our bed. I scooted closer to them and wrapped an arm around them, kissing Raven’s cheek and (Y/N)’s temple.

- “Your mommy and I love you so much.”- I whispered and watched our daughter sob a few times before she fell asleep on (Y/N)’s warm chest.

Neither of us said another word after that. We just laid with her on our bed, Vinny sleeping peacefully on his crib near us. I wanted to put a bubble around us all and never let anything hurt us.

I didn’t know it back then, but the only way I could do that was by quitting the BAU.

The following week, Morgan came back to the BAU for the last time. We all knew he was leaving, Hotch had told us. But it was still hard for all of us to deal with what it meant losing him in our team. In our daily basics.

When we walked to the bullpen’s door, I saw Morgan hugging JJ and I knew what was happening next. I knew he was there to say goodbye. It was going to be our last time there, and I didn’t feel I was ready to face it. So I left (Y/N)standing there alone and ran away to the meeting room.

Chicken much? Yeah, I know. But everyone knows I am not a fan of changes, and that day was especially hard for me. I was losing my brother. It wasn’t just another profiler leaving. It was my best friend we were talking about. And I was happy for him, of course I was. He got everything he ever wanted. It was just hard dealing with the guilt of not being as brave as him and doing the same for my family.

But of course, I wasn’t ready to deal with that truth just yet.

- “I know you hate goodbyes kid. And change.”- Morgan found me and walked into the room, facing the issue upfront. I wasn’t expecting anything less from him. I turned to face him, my eyes already filling with tears, and he cut me a warm smile, knowing how hard it was for me.

- “Hey. It isn't always a bad thing.”- he added- “And you’ve been getting better at dealing with changes. At least with changing diapers.”- I chuckle at those words. I liked the fact we could keep that conversation closer to the fun side because it was too painful to deal with.

- “You are gonna be better.”- I whispered and he smiled.

- “Only ‘cos I learned from the best.”- Morgan added and we both stayed in silence for a few seconds. Everything about saying goodbye to my best friend hurt. So I sighed loudly and finally accepted the truth.

- “I just can't imagine this room without you.”

- “So don't. Don't think about it.”- Morgan quickly answered, still smiling. - “Just know I'm always gonna be by your side. I'm just a phone call away.”

- “I know. Raven won’t let you go either. She loves Sunday brunch with you and Savannah.”- we both smiled for a moment, but tears quickly threatened to fall again.

- “I'm sorry I can't stay.”- Morgan apologized and I shook my head right away.

- “I don't want you to stay.”- I quickly replied thinking I wasn’t sure I wanted to stay either, but I also wasn’t ready to deal with that just yet.- “Because I know why you're leaving and I couldn't be happier for you.”- I simply looked at him with a smile, because I honestly didn’t want him to feel guilty about leaving. Still, his eyes watered up as he took a step closer and grabbed something from his back pocket

- “Listen, we were gonna mail these, but I wanted you to have a birth announcement first.”- he opened the envelope and handed the announcement. I didn’t know what to say or how to react to it. So I just read it out loud, feeling a knot in my throat.

- “Hank Spencer Morgan.”- my voice broke as I stared at the picture of baby Hank in my hands. I couldn’t stop smiling as I looked at it. It was the sweetest gesture. It was more than I deserved. My best friend had named his baby after me. What had I done in life to deserve that much love from him?

- “Yeah. Hank is for my pops. But Spencer is for the best little brother anybody could ever ask for.”- his words were too much, and before I knew it I was sobbing. Morgan wrapped his arms around me and tapped on my back as he whispered.

- “I love you, kid.”

- “I love you.”- I replied knowing he was doing the right thing. It was just too painful to deal with how it felt at the moment. But it was meant to happen.

- “So, look, my little dude, he's gonna need a favorite uncle. To teach him everything he knows about life. And chess.”- Morgan chuckled at his words and I nodded smiling.

- “I can do that.”

- “I know you can.”

- “Which reminds me, I’m gonna need you to teach me how to play soccer, so I can teach Vinny eventually.”- my answer made him laugh.

It was comforting knowing Morgan was leaving the team, but he wasn’t leaving my life. That was a big change. We weren’t going to stop meeting, he wasn’t walking out of my life. He was just taking a step back from work and focusing on his family. The

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[jocelynscrazyideas]

Can I request something ? Matthew tkachuk

Yn has severe anxiety and she gets like all red and “anxiety hives” on her chest. and they’re at like a Christmas party or a team banquet. And one of the other bitchy girlfriend call her out and embarrass her? 🫶🏼

Red Christmas ||

Mathew tkachuk x reader

summary: Matt stands up for you at a team Christmas party at Sam Reinharts house. The first impressions…yeah they weren’t great.

warnings: not much? Correct me if I’m wrong!

a/n: hey guys! Haven’t posted in a while, hopefully I remember how to write…I pray yall enjoy.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Have you ever felt misplaced?

Matt and I just started dating, it’s been about eight months and three weeks. The unfortunate part about our relationship is that we kept it a secret. Not a burdened relationship, more like a respect secret.

Matt had been focusing on playoffs in march, and I was visiting for my nephews birthday. Of course, as Floridians we came to support the panthers and Matt had caught my eye.

We’ve been strong in long distance, and I’m actually moving in this week.

“Yes mom, I know it’s fast. Mom. Listen. I love him.” I defend Matt to my mother over a phone call.

No one thinks Matthew and I will last, but I believe that he truly cares about me.

~

“Baby?” Matt knocks on our soon-to be shared room.

I look up from my phone, and stand up from the bed, “huh? Is it a pajama party or are we going classy tonight?” I have extreme fear that I won’t be accepted to the WAGs tonight.

Matt hands me a bag full of clothes, “Pj’s, I bought you some to match, but the Christmas party tonight will be rough, the girls are amazing, and the boys love the stories I’ve told about you..” he seems more nervous than me.

“What? If the girls are nice and the boys love me, then what’s the problem?”

“Them mixed-it’s just not a good idea. It took the girls to adjust to a new girl last year about three months.” He holds my hand while he takes me out of the bedroom.

~

oh?

Does he believe that I’m unlikable? Or is it because they’re just not used to new people?

~

“Great. Thanks Bubs. I walk over to the bathroom and change into the pajamas I have been gifted by Matt.

I have the softest white pants on ever, they have small blue snowflakes on them and I threw on the matching top. It looks somewhat hideous, so I run out of the bathroom.

“Matthew!” I yell out, I motion out for him to come find me.

He walks out if the kitchen and turns me around, we stand in the very cold living room. He has on the matching pj set and an ugly sweater for us but I decided that the pjs were enough.

~

We made it to Reinharts house, seeing many cars parked outside of his home we decide to park on the street.

We walk in, my makeup feels fresh, my hair looks good, Matthew looks pretty and I feel… anxious.

“Hey Sam, you know about Miss Pretty?” Matthew motions to me. I’m in a daze, I’m really nervous now that I’m meeting someone.

“Of course!” Sam laughs, he hugs me in a welcoming, and he pulls over Jessica- his wife.

She’s very sweet, but she keeps looking down at my neck. Maybe she’s just checking to make sure I have no hickeys, but maybe I have my rashes again?

I walk to the bathroom and notice my neck is red. I didn’t bring any extra concealer tonight, maybe they won’t notice.

~

am I stupid?! “Maybe they won’t notice.” Notice what? The huge red hives bunched all together? Yeah! Sure they won’t notice..

~

Matthew hands me a cup of hot chocolate, and I start drinking off to the side. They all talk, and I feel like I’m just forgotten.

Jessica rushes over to me, “Come on! The girls are spilling the funniest stories about the boys!” She giggles. Maybe I have a shot in making a friend.

The girls huddle up in the corner next to the Christmas tree, we all laugh as we hear the funniest embarrassing moments the couples have experienced. Now it’s my turn. Everyone looks at the anxiety rashes. Great.

I scratch my hands, I look down and see the hugest red markings. I’m spreading.

“Is that? Herpes?” Someone laughs out. The girls look round and laugh at me.

I run over to Matthew tell him I’ll wait in the car. I grab my phone and set down the mug of the festive beverage. Matthew notices my hand.

“Hey!” He calls out. Everyone stops. Matthew took my hand.

“I get it! No one expected me to have a girlfriend for so long, but she’s beautiful, she’s sweet, and she has the worst anxiety known to man.” He holds up my hand and turns my head to the left, showing off my rashes.

“It’s not…” Matt holds his head down, “herpes.” I wisper in his ear.

He echoed my words as I feel a tear come down my face. I’ve always been so insecure about the hives.

All of the girls apologize, they even set up a hangout for the following week with the boys. We’re going clubbing! Yet somehow I’m still really nervous.

I can tell they were all embarrassed, I mean they should be. Why call out something so little? To put someone down?

Matt and I leave after he stood up for me. He was angry, and I was flustered. We head back home and sat in the couch and watched movies. I felt his hand slide around my thigh.

“You know… I’ve been staring at that ass all night.” He grips harder onto my leg. He stands over me, picking me up and runs me over to the bedroom.

We laugh as we take our pjs off and the night ends in a good note.

[aventurineswife]

aventurine x reader!!: 🤍

req with hanahaki, but it’s a condition reader was born with {rather than the traditional unrequited love type of things, but aven doesn’t know that} basicallyyy: reader hides their condition from him, until one day aven finds out, and is worried it might be his fault

noticing how extra clingy he’s become, reader decides to ask him about it, he asks about their hanahaki, and we get cute fluffy ending <3

{basically chronically ill reader looking back on this, but hanahaki is very interesting :D}

hope you’re having a wonderful morning/evening/night <3 🤍🫧

“I won’t give up on us, even if the skies get rough”

Summary: You have been hiding a lifelong condition, Hanahaki Disease, from Aventurine. Though the disease isn't caused by unrequited love, it still manifests in the form of flowers growing your lungs. As Aventurine becomes more clingy and concerned about your health, you finally confess the truth. Aventurine, feeling a mixture of guilt and concern, vows to support you through your condition, offering comfort and care.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Hanahaki Disease, Chronic Illness, Fluff, Comfort, Emotional Support, Angst (with a fluffy ending), Established Relationship, Relationship Growth, Vulnerability, Healing, Sweet Moments, Caretaking

Warnings: Mild illness (Hanahaki Disease), mention of chronic conditions, light angst, feelings of guilt and concern, unrequited love not being the cause of the condition.

A/N: THIS ACTUALLY SUCH A GOOD PROMPT?! AND ALSO ORIGINAL TOO!! LIKE MAN I WAS DONE CRYING OVER CHARACTER GETTING THE DISEASE BECAUSE OF UNREQUITED LOVE!! ☹️💔

The morning sunlight filters through the curtains, casting soft, golden hues across your shared living space. Aventurine stands in the kitchen, flipping through a deck of cards absentmindedly, his gaze shifting occasionally in your direction. You’ve noticed how his attention seems to linger on you lately, how his glances feel like they carry a silent question he hasn’t yet voiced. And though he’s always been affectionate, his recent clinginess has you wondering if something’s on his mind.

Today, after all the little moments of unspoken worry and his fingers brushing your arm a little too often, you decide to bring it up.

"Aven, love,” you begin gently, meeting his gaze, “Is everything alright? You’ve been...extra close lately."

He hesitates, his ever-present smile faltering just slightly. "Ah, am I really that obvious?" He chuckles, but there's a hint of nervousness behind it. "It’s just...I couldn’t help but notice you’ve been coughing a bit more lately."

You freeze for a second, feeling your heart quicken. You’d tried so hard to hide your condition from him, carefully coughing petals into tissues, tucking them away when he wasn’t looking. Your condition was a lifelong burden, not caused by any recent heartache but simply part of who you are. But now it’s clear he’s been noticing more than you realized.

“Aven, it’s not... It’s not what you think,” you say softly, reaching out to take his hand. “I know what you’re thinking—that it might be because of you. But it’s not. It’s something I was born with.”

For the first time since you’ve known him, Aventurine’s confident composure breaks entirely. He stares at you, brows furrowing, genuine worry and perhaps a bit of guilt swimming in his eyes. "You mean...this wasn’t something recent? You’ve...you’ve had it all along?”

You nod, squeezing his hand. "It’s always been there. The doctors don’t know why, but it’s just a part of me. I didn’t want to worry you, so I hid it."

He exhales, visibly relieved but still concerned. “You shouldn’t have hidden something so big,” he murmurs, brushing a hand through your hair, fingers gentle and affectionate. “I... I hate thinking of you going through that alone.”

His tone is soft, filled with a depth of emotion you rarely hear from him. "I just wanted things to feel normal," you whisper, resting your forehead against his. "But lately... it’s been harder to hide. I didn’t want you to think I didn’t trust you."

For a moment, he’s quiet, his hand slipping down to cradle your face, his thumb tracing gentle patterns against your cheek. “I’ll help you through this. You’re not alone in this anymore, you hear me?” His voice is resolute, his determination clear.

A small, hesitant smile finds its way onto your lips as you nod, feeling the weight of your secret lighten. “You really don’t have to...”

“Oh, but I do,” he insists, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then your nose, and finally your lips. “I’m already envisioning ways we can handle it together. I’ll bring you tea every morning, make sure you rest more, and maybe bring a few cards to distract you when things get rough.”

You laugh softly at his playfulness, feeling an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude. The tenderness in his eyes, the way he’s looking at you—it’s as if he’s promising to take on part of this burden just to keep you smiling.

“I’m lucky to have you.” you murmur, wrapping your arms around him.

He smiles, holding you close, his voice a gentle whisper in your ear. "And I’m lucky to have you, petals and all."

With Aventurine by your side, you realize that even the things you once saw as burdens feel a little lighter. The two of you, together, find comfort in each other’s embrace, knowing that no secret or struggle can stand between the love you share.