#and so I think she was never really on his side to begin with and was there to learn what he was trying to do | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ktownshizzle · 22 hours ago

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Love & Lullabies | Part 3

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader

Summary: What begins as a simple favor for your best friend Namjoon soon pulls you into the rhythms of Yoongi’s life—afternoons spent caring for his son, late nights filled with candid conversations, and a connection neither of you thought you needed. You’re just fresh out of a long-term relationship with an ex who didn’t want a family with you, so did you really just stumble into a life you’ve always dreamed of? (Thank god Namjoon isn’t the only one who’s clumsy.)

Alternatively: It’s 2025 and BTS is prepping for their comeback. All members seem to have gained muscle weight from their time at camp. But Min Yoongi has gained a different kind of weight—an 8-pound baby and a fuck-load of responsibility. (Thank god you’re there to help him.)

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, idol!au, Acquaintances to Lovers, Reader is Namjoon’s bestie

Warnings: Yoongi is a DILF (!!!) That’s it.

Chapter warnings: GRAB YOUR TISSUES!, this bitch is a whole ass kdrama episode and it’s gonna hurt before it gets better, happy ending tho!, themes of self-loathing, anxiety, and depression (MC), severe postpartum depression (not MC), it’s monsoon season and namgi don’t like umbrellas, (____) in the rain cliche scene, NAMTIDDIES because I can’t help myself, lastly… watch me morph this into another workplace romance/co-workers to lovers story lmao (real)

Word count: ~7k

Posting date: November 21, 2024

Notes: This is inspired by an ask/prompt sent by @yoongznme.

I am a clown 🤡 and a liar 🤥 From pretending this is a two-shot, then a three-shot. It has become a chaptered series, atp. There is a part 4 in the works and I fully intend to end it there, but again, I may have just jinxed myself. Anyway! Enjoy, my lovelies~ 💕

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Masterlist

“She’s Haneul’s mom.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut.

“What?”

“Sung Kyung and Yoongi… they’ve been good friends for years,” Namjoon explains quickly, his tone almost apologetic. “I didn’t think they were dating. But yeah, she’s his mom. She left for months and when she came back, she'd already given birth.”

You feel like the ground has been ripped out from under you. What Namjoon said made no sense. You clutch the edge of the counter, your mind racing. “What do you mean she left…?” You have never been more confused in your entire life.

Namjoon sighs. “I don’t know all the details. You know hyung, he tells you what he thinks you need to know. The rest, he keeps to himself. But I do know they did the paternity tests and everything, and Haneul’s his, theirs.”

Theirs. It’s easier if Namjoon just slices your heart open at this rate.

He places a tentative hand on your shoulder. “It’s better to hear it straight from Yoongi-hyung, since you guys are, you know.”

“I– I don’t know. I don’t know what we are,” you say, leaning your weight sideways against the wall to steady yourself.

Get a grip. It’s Haneul’s day.

Namjoon stands to shield you from the rest, in case anybody chances to look your way. You probably look like you’re about to puke. You definitely feel like it.

“Joonie…” Your voice is small when you ask, “Do you think she wants to come back now?”

Namjoon lifts his shoulder, lets it sag, “I don’t know. Maybe. She wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

Your chest tightens, a wave of insecurity crashing over you. Of course, she would want to come back now. She’s beautiful, successful, everything you’re not. And most importantly, she’s Haneul’s mother. That’s the kicker. How can you compete with that?

Spoiler alert: you can’t.

When you step back into the living room, the first thing you notice is Yoongi’s mom. She’s standing off to the side, her lips pressed into a thin line as she glares at Sung Kyung from across the room with a mixture of disapproval and barely-contained irritation.

“She shouldn’t be here,” she says quietly, her voice cold and clipped.

“Eomma,” Yoongi grits.

“She abandoned Haneul, Yoongi,” his mom hisses, her tone sharper now. “And she thinks she can just come here like nothing happened?”

Yoongi sighs, his hand briefly brushing his mother’s arm in a silent plea for calm. “Not here, eomma. Please. It’s Haneul’s birthday. Don’t make a scene.”

Of course he is siding with her.

You’re unable to tear your eyes away from Sung Kyung. How can she look so beautiful even if she looks miserable? She exchanges a few more quiet words with Yoongi near the door, her expression alternating between frustration and what looks like regret. You can’t hear what they’re saying, but you catch the way Yoongi’s shoulders stiffen, the way his jaw tightens as she reaches out to brush his arm. You see Yoongi nod, and you’re so curious, what is he agreeing to?

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she leaves. The door is closed, but for sure this chapter isn’t. Not even close.

You entertain yourself by watching some of the BTS members play some video games. Their antics, as funny as they are, don’t really register. Your laughs are hollow, mind totally elsewhere. It’s a while before Yoongi finally finds you, after he disappeared to his studio after Sung Kyung left and went MIA for half an hour or so.

He corners you near the snack table as you pretend to be engrossed in arranging leftover cupcakes.

“Hey,” he says softly, touching your arm lightly.

You turn to face him, your smile brittle. “Hey. How’s everything going?”

“Can we talk?”

You nod, following him toward the hallway, away from the laughter and chatter. The noise completely fades as you enter his soundproof studio and he turns to face you.

He exhales deeply, running a hand through his hair. “I wanted to talk to you,” he says carefully, like he’s choosing every word with precision.

“About Sung Kyung.” you offer. He nods, shoulders visibly tense. “Yeah. And Haneul.”

The mention of Haneul makes your chest tighten, but you steady yourself, waiting for him to continue.

“She and I… we were close for a long time,” he begins, his gaze dropping to the floor. “And yeah, there was a point where I thought it was going somewhere. But then she just… disappeared.”

“Disappeared?”

“She left Korea. No warning, no explanation. Just… ghosted.” He shrugs. “I didn’t know where she went or why. She didn’t contact me for months.”

“And then one day,” he continues, “she called. Told me she just gave birth to a son. That it was mine.”

The words hang between you, heavy and jarring. You don’t say anything, letting him get it all out.

“She didn’t tell me she was pregnant,” he says, shaking his head as if he still can’t believe it. “I literally only found out after he was born.”

You feel a pang of sympathy, but then you’re also feeling angry at Sung Kyung. “Why did she wait so long to tell you?”

“She said she didn’t want to burden me. I was already doing my military service and I had that thing… that case. She thought she could handle it on her own.” He looks up at you then, his eyes dark and conflicted. “But after she had him… she couldn’t. She fell into really severe postpartum depression and some other health issues, basically telling me she was diagnosed unfit to take care of him.”

Your throat tightens, and you clasp your hands together to keep them from shaking. “So you stepped in.”

He nods, “I didn’t have a choice. Haneul needed someone, and I couldn’t—I wouldn’t turn my back on him. He’s my son. It was confirmed by a paternity test.”

“And now she’s back,” you say, more a statement than a question.

“Yeah,” he says quietly, dragging a hand down his face. “She says she’s better. That she wants to be in his life now. That she can be. And honestly… I don’t know what to do.”

You study him for a moment, your emotions warring between compassion and your own sense of inadequacy. “What do you want, Yoongi? Not for her, not for Haneul. What do you want?”

“I don’t know,” he admits, gnawing his lip before he says, “I just… I want to do what’s right for Haneul.”

The words cut deeper than you expected, but you force a small smile, nodding as if they don’t sting. “That makes sense.”

Yoongi takes a step closer as he studies your face. “But what about you?” he asks, his voice almost too gentle. “How are you feeling about all this?”

The sincerity in his question takes you off guard, and for a moment, you’re tempted to tell him everything. The ache in your chest, the jealousy you hate admitting to, the fear of losing whatever connection the two of you have built. But instead, you plaster on a smile, shoving all those emotions into a corner of your mind.

“I’m fine,” you say lightly. “It’s Haneul’s birthday. That’s what matters.”

Yoongi doesn’t look convinced, his gaze lingering on you as if he’s trying to read the truth in your expression. But after a moment, he nods, letting it drop. “Okay.”

Finally, you glance at the door, forcing yourself to straighten up. “We should probably get back to the party.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi says, stepping aside to let you pass. But as you reach for the door, his voice stops you.

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

You turn back, your brows furrowing. “For what?”

“For everything,” he says, his eyes filled with something you can’t quite name.

You don’t know how to respond, so you just nod. Because his words—why did it feel like a goodbye?

The rest of the party passes in a blur. You keep smiling, keep laughing, keep pretending everything is fine. You stand by as Yoongi helps Haneul blow out his single candle, snapping pictures of his chubby hands smashing into the frosting.

You’re wiping stray frosting from Haneul’s cheek when you glance at him and for a split second, you see her. Sung Kyung’s face is right there, faint but unmistakable, in the shape of his eyes and the curve of his brows.

The realization hits you like a freight train. You freeze, the cloth clutched in your hand, staring at this beautiful baby boy who isn’t yours. Who will never be yours.

It’s too much. You set the muslin down, excusing yourself to the kitchen with a muttered, “I’ll grab more drinks.”

You don’t even make it to the fridge. You stand there by the counter, gripping its edge as you force yourself to breathe, to keep the tears at bay. You’ve never felt more out of place in your life.

Namjoon finds you a few moments later, leaning against the doorway with a quiet, watchful look. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask if you’re okay. He just stays there, close but not too close, his presence steady and silent. You appreciate him for that—for knowing exactly what you need when you’re unraveling. He’s your best friend after all.

But even his quiet support isn’t enough to keep the emotions at bay.

Across the room, Yoongi’s eomma catches your eye. There’s something pitying in the glances she throws your way, a faint furrow of her brow that makes you want to sink into the floor. You had the feeling she knows there’s something between you and Yoongi, but now… now it feels like she’s seeing through you, like she knows exactly how small you’re starting to feel.

Because the truth is, you’re nothing.

You’re not Haneul’s mom. You’re not Yoongi’s girlfriend. You’re just someone who helps out when it’s convenient, and now that they have a nanny, you’re not even that. And it hurts. God, it hurts because you thought—maybe foolishly, maybe selfishly—that you were becoming something more. That you were becoming someone to them. That, maybe, you were becoming a family.

But now, as you stand there watching Yoongi carry Haneul to his room, barely sparing you a glance, the truth sinks in like a stone in your chest. You’re not someone. You’re a placeholder. A stand-in.

And pretty soon, just like Jiyong, they’re going to discard you. Because that’s what always happens. You’re always easy to leave behind. Always replaceable. Always useless.

The thought claws at you, and you suddenly can’t breathe. You grab your things and run. The cool night air stings your skin, but it’s nothing compared to the ache in your chest.

The tears come before you can stop them, hot and angry and full of every ounce of self-loathing you’ve tried to bury.

You glance back at the building. Maybe for the last time. You’re on the outside now—of course you are. You’ve been on the outside this entire time.

Namjoon must have noticed you were gone because he texted shortly after:

Joonie: You okay? Joonie: Don’t worry, I told them you weren’t feeling well. Go home and rest. Text me when you’re there.

That night, you ignored Yoongi’s call. You stared at the screen as his name lit up, your finger hovering over the answer button before you let it ring out. He left a voicemail. You deleted it without listening.

The next morning, you wake up to another call from him. This time, he doesn’t leave a voicemail. Instead, he sends a message.

Yoongi: Can I come over?

You stare at the text for a long time, your stomach twisting with guilt and anger and sadness. Finally, you type out a single word:

You: No

You throw your phone face-down on the couch, ignoring the way it buzzes again and again and again.

For the next few days, you ghost him.

It wasn’t easy. Every time your phone buzzes, you feel a pang of guilt, a deep ache that gnaws at your resolve. But you can’t bring yourself to answer. You need time. You need to figure out where you stood in all of this.

His messages come sporadically at first:

Yoongi: Hey, can we talk? Yoongi: I don’t know what I did wrong, but I want to fix it. Yoongi: Please. Just let me know you’re okay.

You delete most of them without reading too much into them. But then he starts sending pictures.

The first was of Haneul, grinning in his chair, wearing the capybara slippers you’d gifted him for his birthday.

Yoongi: Haneul misses you

The next day, another photo. This time, Haneul was lying on his playmat, still wearing the slippers, holding onto Bora.

Yoongi: Still missing you

Each message chips away at your resolve, but the one that breaks you comes Thursday evening:

A short video clip. In it, Haneul is sitting on the floor, babbling as he clutches Bora. And then, clear as day, he says it:

“Sa-ra.”

Your heart twists painfully. It’s clipped, but it’s unmistakably sarang. Your term of endearment for him, the nickname you’d called him since he started smiling every time he heard it. He’d never been able to say it back—not until now.

And Yoongi knows exactly what he is doing, sending this to you.

You stare at the screen for what feels like an eternity, leaving the video on loop, before finally opening your call log. His name was right at the top, of course. You hit the call button, your hands trembling as you bring the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” Yoongi’s voice comes through almost immediately.

You exhale shakily. “Hi.”

There was a pause. Then he speaks again, and you can hear his vulnerability. “I didn’t think you’d call back.”

You close your eyes, trying to steady yourself. “How could I ignore that video? Haneul… he said sarang.”

“Yeah, he’s been saying it non-stop since yesterday.”

You swallowed hard, gripping the phone tighter. “Yoongi… about… us.”

“Mmh?” He didn’t interrupt, didn’t rush you. He just waited.

“I’ve been thinking,” you began. “Haneul deserves to have a complete family. He deserves to know his mom, to have her in his life. If—if that’s what you both want.”

Yoongi was quiet for a long moment before he finally responded. “But… he needs you, too.”

Before you can back out, “Yoongi, I need space,” you say finally, your voice trembling.

There was a pause, and when he spoke again, his voice was quiet. “Okay.”

It wasn’t a protest. It wasn’t an argument. Just… okay. It’s the most ‘Yoongi’ reaction to things, and you hate it. You hate it so much.

You hang up, staring at the screen until it goes dark. Your chest felt heavy, your heart splintering in ways you didn’t know it could.

You’d told him you needed space and he said okay. The truth is, when you said space, you just wanted him to make room for you. To assure you that you belong with them. That there is a seat, warm and yours. But he didn’t.

You miss Yoongi so much it feels like a physical ache. But it’s not just him. You miss Haneul’s face, his giggles, his sleepy weight in your arms.

Namjoon has been doing his best to check in. He sends you UberEats nearly every other day, a steady stream of meals you barely touch. The one time he came over, unannounced, he walked into what could only be described as a disaster.

“Jesus Christ,” Namjoon muttered, kicking a stray box out of his way as he entered your apartment. The laundry basket was overflowing, your trash can piled up. You were in a 2-day old shirt, hair a rat’s nest, and you’re slouched on the couch with an empty brain.

Namjoon stared at you, his disappointment radiating off him. “Y/N, you can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

“I’m fine,” you lied, barely looking at him.

He scoffed. “Fine? You look like you’ve been run over by a truck. Twice.”

“So dramatic.” You rolled your eyes, but the truth of his words stung.

Namjoon crouched in front of you, placing his hands on your knees. “Move in with me for now. You know I have the space. You can’t stay here like this. It’s not healthy.”

“I’m not moving in with you, Joon,” you said, shaking your head. “I’m not your charity case.”

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “You’re not a charity case. You’re my best friend. And I’m not gonna sit back and watch you drown in your own misery.”

“I’m not gonna live in your and Soyeon’s sex den,” you snapped unnecessarily.

Namjoon just looked at you, shook his head, before he flopped beside you on the couch. He fed you, forced you to go take a shower, and watched some shitty reality show with you. He eventually left, though you could feel the weight of his disappointment long after the door shut behind him. If he only knew how thankful you were of those visits.

A week later, you find yourself standing in front of Yoongi’s apartment. You didn’t plan this. You don’t even know what you’re hoping to achieve by being here. All you know is that the ache of missing them—missing him—has become unbearable.

You knock on the door before you can second-guess yourself.

Mrs. Kwon opens it, her expression immediately uneasy. “Y/N,” she says, her tone cautious. “You should come back another time.”

“Why?” you ask, your voice sharper than you intended.

She hesitates, her lips pressing into a thin line. “It’s just… not a good time.”

“I need to see them,” you insist, stepping forward.

“My dear girl, please listen—”

But you’re already past her, your determination overriding her warnings.

When you step into the living room–

Fuck.

There she is. Sung Kyung, sitting on the floor with Haneul in her lap, holding a plush toy you don’t recognize. She’s smiling at him, her voice soft as she tries to coax him into playing with it. Adding salt to the wound–Bora, the capybara plush you gave Haneul, is discarded carelessly in the corner near the diaper pail.

Your heart stops, and before you can control yourself, you take a step back, your movement catching Sung Kyung’s attention. She looks up, confused. She doesn’t know you, why would she?

Yoongi’s voice comes from behind you, and you turn to see him emerging from his studio, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Who rang the—”

His eyes widen when he sees you, but you’re already moving, your feet carrying you toward the door in a blind rush.

“Wait—Y/N!”

You barely hear him as you bend down and snatch Bora from the floor. Haneul’s voice suddenly cuts through the air, his tiny, excited voice calling out, “Sa-ra! Sa-ra!”

Tears blur your vision as you wrench the door open and run, Yoongi’s voice calling after you, but you don’t stop.

It’s raining when you step outside. Great, because this day couldn’t get any worse. The cold droplets soak through your clothes almost instantly. You don’t have an umbrella, but you don’t give a shit. Tears stream down your face mixing with the rain.

You don’t know how far you get before you feel it—a warmth against your back, arms wrapping around you tightly.

Yoongi’s voice cracks as he says your name, his rain-soaked body like a furnace against your shivering frame. “Please.”

He sounds like he is begging, but why? What is he asking? What does he want from you?

You shake your head, your voice breaking. “This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come.”

“Then why did you?” he asks, his tone desperate, his chest heaving as he pulls you tighter.

“Because I thought… I thought I had a place here. But I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“Don’t say that,” he pleads, his voice barely audible over the rain as he turns you to face him. His hands come up to cradle your face. He was starting to shake too, the pads of his fingers damp against your skin. His eyes search yours, desperate, and before you can stop him—or yourself—he closes the space between you and kisses you.

Against the pouring rain, your lips press against each other, clumsy, shaky, unexpectedly urgent. His lips move like he’s trying to say all the things he can’t find the words for, like this is his only way to make you understand. And for a second, maybe a minute, maybe more, you let him.

You feel his ragged breaths as he licks into your mouth, his hair brushing your temple, droplets trailing down your skin. His hand slides from your cheek to the nape of your neck, fingers threading gently through your wet hair. It’s tender and fierce all at once, like he’s afraid you might vanish if he lets go.

But there is a tinge of bitterness cutting through the taste of his kiss. This isn’t enough—not to fix everything, not to erase the doubt clawing at the edges of your mind. Not to prevent the new thoughts from worming its way inside.

Sung Kyung is in his apartment right now. So maybe it’s not just about Haneul anymore. Maybe they’re reconciling. Trying to sort out their own feelings that they put on ice. Yoongi did say he thought their relationship was going somewhere.

God, you do not want to be some homewrecker. You cannot do that to Haneul. Weakly you try to pull back.

But Yoongi doesn’t let you. His lips chase yours, teeth gently sinking into your plush and you’re unable to stifle the moan from your mouth at the delicious sting. You open up to him, lips sliding against his as his other hand grips your waist now, pulling you closer until you can really feel the heat of his body through the drenched fabric of his clothes. The world feels like it’s spinning, everything is blending into a dizzying blur, and you don’t know how to stop it.

Your hand hovers at his chest, not pushing him away but not pulling him closer either. Your heart is screaming to hold on just a little longer. But your head is telling you—

“No,” you whisper, breaking away as quickly as you can without slipping on the slick ground. Your chest heaves as you clutch Bora tighter against you.

Yoongi stands frozen, his lips parted as if he’s about to speak, his dark eyes locked on yours. The rain clings to his lashes, his hair plastered to his forehead, and for a moment, he looks completely lost.

“I can’t do this, Yoongi,” you choke out, your voice shaking. “I just… I can’t.”

And before he can stop you, you turn and run again, your feet splashing through puddles as you make your way to the nearest bus stop. By some miracle, you make your way home in one piece. Barring one vital organ that’s discarded somewhere in Hannam.

My tea's gone cold, I'm wondering why I Got out of bed at all The morning rain clouds up my window And I can't see at all And even if I could, it'd all be gray But your picture on my wall It reminds me that it's not so bad, it's not so bad - Stan, Eminem

Your apartment is cold and quiet, the soft patter of rain against the windows the only sound. The mug of tea on your table has long since gone cold, untouched, as you sit curled up on the couch, staring at that grainy selca Yoongi sent you weeks ago.

You’re startled out of your thoughts by the sound of the door opening. Namjoon steps in, shaking off the rain and holding a grocery bag in one hand, his hoodie slung over his shoulder. He’s soaked to the bone, but he flashes you his dimples anyway.

“You know,” he starts, setting the bag on the counter, “for someone who always claims they’re fine, you sure as hell don’t look it.”

“Don’t start, Joon,” you mumble, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself.

Namjoon ignores you, glancing around the apartment with a disapproving look. “Seriously? It still looks like you just moved in. No decorations, no warmth. This part could be a photo wall or something…”

You roll your eyes. “Alright, Mr. Art influencer.”

“I need a dry shirt,” he says, gripping the edge of his tee and pulling it up and over his head without fanfare.

You’ve never felt attracted to your best friend in any physical or sexual way ever (seriously, ew), but you can appreciate a good physique when you see one.

“Wow, Joonie, are your tiddies getting bigger?” you say as you stand to find a shirt for him from your makeshift closet.

“You’re an idiot.”

Before you can respond, the doorbell rings. Namjoon straightens, wiping his hands on his pants. “You expecting someone?”

You shake your head.

Namjoon strides to the door, glancing through the peephole with a tsk before pulling it open. He doesn’t seem to care that he’s shirtless, which would be awkward enough if it were anyone else standing there.

But it’s Yoongi.

Yoongi stands in the hallway, his expression strained, his eyes immediately scanning the room behind Namjoon until they land on you, curled on the couch. You clutch the t-shirt you were about to lend Namjoon tighter against your chest, unsure whether to feel relief, anger, or the painful longing that’s been gnawing at you for days.

“I need to talk to her,” Yoongi says, his voice calm but heavy with emotion.

Namjoon steps into the doorway, crossing his arms as he blocks the entrance. “Maybe not today, hyung.”

Yoongi’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t flinch. “I have to. I need to explain.”

Namjoon doesn’t budge, his voice soft but firm. “Sorry, hyung. Not after everything.”

Yoongi’s eyes flick to you again, desperate. “I just… fuck,” He swallows hard, his voice breaking slightly. “I can’t let her think she doesn’t matter to me. She does. More than anyone.”

Namjoon hesitates for the first time, glancing back at you. His expression softens briefly, but when he turns to Yoongi again, it’s your voice that responds.

“Yoongi.” Your voice is quiet, but it cuts through the tension like a blade. Both men turn to you, and the hope that flashes across Yoongi’s face makes your lungs shrivel.

You grip the fabric in your hands tighter, willing yourself to stay firm. “You should go.”

Yoongi’s lips part as if to argue, but the look in your eyes silences him. He nods once, slowly, his expression crumbling for just a moment before he turns away.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice so soft you almost don’t hear it.

Namjoon watches him for a moment longer before stepping back into the apartment and shutting the door.

The first step is always the hardest.

Namjoon didn’t sugarcoat anything when he told you to get your shit together. “I love you,” he said bluntly after Yoongi left that rainy night, “but you’re the only one who can pull yourself out of this. No one else is coming to save you. Not me. Not Jiyong. Not Yoongi. Just you.”

You hated hearing it, but he was right.

So you took the first step: you called a therapist. Twice a week, you sat in that tiny, clinical room and talked about everything you’d buried for years. The abandonment issues you’d carried since childhood. The shame you felt after your relationship with Jiyong fell apart. The way you constantly give pieces of yourself to others, just like you did with Haneul and Yoongi, leaving nothing for yourself. Thinking that’s okay.

Session by session, the fog began to lift. Slowly, you started to understand that happiness couldn’t come from someone else, no matter how deeply you loved them. It had to come from you—built piece by piece, nurtured, protected.

You realized that loving yourself wasn’t selfish. It was necessary. And for the first time in months, you began to believe you were worthy of it.

At home, you started small. One night, you finally tackled the pile of laundry that had been haunting you for weeks. Another night, you scrubbed down the kitchen until the counters gleamed. And then one weekend, you went to IKEA and bought a bed frame—not just a functional one, but a beautiful one that made you feel excited to wake up in the mornings.

You even hung up paintings on the walls, little pops of color that made the apartment feel like it was actually yours. Namjoon gave you some from his collection, too.

Running sucks, but it became your nightly ritual. At first, it was hard. Your legs ached, and your lungs burned. But the more you pushed yourself, the better it felt—the rush of endorphins, the rhythm of your feet hitting the pavement, the way your thoughts quieted for just a little while.

Bit by bit, you started to feel lighter. Like you were shedding layers of weight you didn’t even realize you were carrying.

And then there was Yoongi.

He was still a constant name on your phone, though the tone of his messages had shifted over time. At first, his texts were full of apologies and pleas for a second chance:

Yoongi: I know I messed up. Please let me make it right.

Yoongi: I’m sorry for everything. I hate that I hurt you.

Yoongi: I need you, Y/N. I should have told you sooner.

Yoongi: Can I come over? I really want to explain everything.

Yoongi: I’m an idiot.

Yoongi: I’ll wait for you. Just tell me when you’re ready to talk.

Then came the texts about Haneul:

Yoongi: Haneul misses you. Not to one-up my own kid, but I miss you more.

Yoongi: Han said your name today. He kept pointing at the door like he was waiting for you to walk in.

Yoongi: I bought him a new Bora. This giraffe is lame. [image attached]

Yoongi: Han’s been carrying Bora 2.0 everywhere. He even tried to feed it rice last night.

And now, weeks later, his messages had settled into something different.

Yoongi: I was in the studio all day, and Hobi made me take a break. We ended up eating too much fried chicken and now I have a zit.

Yoongi: How was your run today? Namjoonah says you’re joining a mini marathon. Good luck!

Yoongi: Still have boxes of Silver Moon tea. It’s too bougie for my ghetto taste buds. Lmk if you want it. Yoongi: Actually, no need. I'll send it thru Namjoonah.

Yoongi: I fucked up the choreography to our new track at Mubank today like an amateur. I hope you didn’t get to watch it.

They were simple, almost mundane. But Yoongi’s texts had a way of hitting you square in the chest. You think back to that conversation in his home, the one where he admitted how lonely he sometimes felt—how he wished for someone to talk to about the little things, the big milestones, everything in between. Someone to share life with. And now, with every message he sends, it feels like he’s choosing you.

Even though weeks have passed without seeing him, he’s still there. Reaching out. Trying to stay connected. Even when you never reply.

But his messages have become tiny bursts of dopamine in your otherwise quiet days. You’re both surprised and relieved he hasn’t stopped trying, that he hasn’t grown tired of pouring himself into the void of your Kakao.

Namjoon told you recently that Yoongi and Sung Kyung have started co-parenting Haneul. She gets supervised visits twice a month. At first, the green-eyed monster threatened to come out. But your best friend tells you that Yoongi never wanted to rekindle anything with Sung Kyung, which gave you some peace. Maybe if you’d been braver back then, you could’ve asked Yoongi yourself. Maybe if Yoongi had been better at communicating, he would have told you then it wouldn’t have felt like such an uphill climb.

But, he was also having such a difficult time, sorting through his own circumstances. And your insecurities at the time were too heavy, too overwhelming to sift through. You probably wouldn’t have believed him then. The progress you’ve made now—to love yourself first—feels hard-won and necessary. And maybe Yoongi also needed to go on a journey to really know what he wants for him and Haneul.

You’ve come to realize through all this that you don’t really hate Sung Kyung. Maybe you were angry on behalf of Yoongi and Haneul for all the secrets she kept, for the ways her choices hurt them both. There was even a night when you found yourself doing a Naver search on postpartum depression. You hadn’t understood how debilitating it could be, how it could turn even the strongest person into a shell of themselves. It didn’t excuse everything, but it gave you perspective, especially as you battle your own demons.

Still, as you journey forward, there are moments when you imagine the “what ifs” with Yoongi, if Sung Kyung hadn't showed up that day. Sometimes, late at night, your mind drifts back to him. You replay his kiss, remembering the way it felt, the way he tasted. You can still conjure the image of his face under the rain, the way he looked at you in that fleeting, heart-wrenching moment.

You wonder if he thinks about it, too. You know he’s waiting. You just hope that when you’re finally ready to let him back in, he’ll still be there—on the other side, willing to try again.

One evening, Namjoon called, his tone unusually excited. “Hey, I’ve got something for you.”

“No, I don’t need more lube, I’m stocked,” you joked, just to be a piece of shit.

“Shut up and listen,” he said, laughing. “Hybe’s opening a daycare for employees’ kids. They need someone to run it. You’re perfect for this.”

Your stomach flipped. “What? Joonie, I don’t even—”

“Don’t even try to argue,” he interrupted. “You have a degree in early childhood education. You love kids. This was your literal job in the states. C’mon, this is made for you.”

“What if I’m not ready?”

Namjoon sighed. “You are. I’ve seen how much work you’ve been putting in. You’re stronger than you think. Just… apply. The worst they can do is say no.”

You’re quiet, so he added. “...and they won’t. I’ll have each member of Bangtan sign a recommendation letter for you.”

“You’re too much, Joonie,” you laugh. But you surely won’t put it past him to do that. “But ok, I’ll apply.”

So you did. And a week later, you got the call.

Your first day at Hybe’s daycare center feels like a dream you didn’t know you had. The space is beautiful—sunlight streams through floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm glow over the colorful toys, tiny tables, and pastel murals. There are only three kids who pre-registered, but you were expecting more to walk in.

Namjoon is there, truly your ride or die, sitting casually on your desk with his ever-supportive grin. “You nervous?”

“Nope,” you say, trying to sound confident. But the way your voice wavers gives you away.

Namjoon chuckles. “Relax. You’re going to crush this.”

Before you can respond, the door swings open, and in walks Hobi with Yunjin and their toddler, Jeongyeon. The little girl looks adorable in her sunflower-patterned overalls, her tiny pigtails bobbing as she walks toward the play area.

“Jeongyeon, say hi to teacher Y/N,” Yunjin says, gently guiding her forward.

“Hi!” Jeongyeon squeaks.

You crouch down to her level. “Hi, Jeongyeon! You’re gonna have so much fun today.”

“First kid of the day, ayeeee!" Hobi says, high-fiving Yunjin, before she runs to Jeongyeon who is mounting the toy pony. Then he turns to you, “Congratulations, Y/N.”

Just as they’re leaving, Namjoon nudges you. “By the way, did you know there’s a capybara mascot today?”

“What?” you blink, confused.

Before Namjoon can explain, something soft and warm suddenly envelops you in a hug. You turn to see a capybara mascot wrapping its plush arms around you, its giant head tilted adorably to the side.

“What the…” You laugh, surprised, grasping its arm. “Hybe really went all out, huh?”

Namjoon smirks. “Of course. First-day activations are a big deal here. And look at that, your favorite animal. What a coincidence.”

You grin, stepping back to look at the mascot. “Guess I’m a little biased, but this might be the cutest thing ever.”

The mascot gives you an exaggerated thumbs-up.

Shortly, Haneul arrives. The moment you see him toddling through the door, all your nerves, all the weight you’d carried for weeks—gone. There’s no ache, no tension. Just pure, uncomplicated happiness.

His nanny, a kind older woman, walks him in, holding his hand as he peers curiously around the room.

Haneul bounds toward you giggling, his gummy smile stretching wide as he lets go of the nanny’s hand and waddles toward you.

“Hi, sarang,” you say, crouching down to scoop him into your arms. He smells like baby lotion and sunshine, and your chest feels full as he buries his face in your shoulder. “I missed you.”

You glance toward the door, your eyes darting around instinctively, but there’s no sign of Yoongi. A small pang of disappointment settles in your stomach before you shake it off. He’s probably holed up in his studio, working on something brilliant. It would have been nice to see him though.

The capybara mascot wanders over, drawing Haneul’s attention instantly. His eyes light up as he points at it, giggling.

“Appa!” Haneul says excitedly, punching the knee of the mascot with his tiny fists.

You laugh, brushing a hand through his soft hair. “That’s not your appa, Haneul. He’s probably in one of the big studios upstairs working very hard right now.”

The mascot gives you a pat on the head, and something about its movements feels oddly familiar. But you don’t dwell on it, too caught up in Haneul’s delighted squeals as the mascot does a little dance for him. It sure loves to shake its ass.

For the rest of the morning, you’re in your element, guiding the kids through activities, wiping tears, and singing songs during circle time. Every so often, Haneul points at the mascot and calls out “Appa!” again, and you can’t help but laugh.

And if the capybara mascot seems to hover a little longer around Haneul, or if it lingers near you whenever there’s a chance, well… you just chalk it up to coincidence.

(One day, much later, you’ll find out the truth. But for now, you’re content not knowing.)

That night, your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you pull it out to find another message from Yoongi.

Yoongi: Congratulations on your first day!

You stare at the screen, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. For the first time in weeks, as you look at your thread of messages from him, you let yourself smile—a small, cautious smile, but a smile nonetheless. And for the first time in months of radio silence, you type up your first reply to him.

You: Thanks, Yoongi. I’m really happy. :)

His reply came almost immediately.

Yoongi: You deserve it

And it may have taken a while, but you finally believe that. So you decide you are also finally ready to do this.

You: Can we talk? Yoongi: giv me 10 mins im cming overr

A/N:

Alright!! Wheeeew! You good? How are you feeling?!?!? As usual, please sound off in the comments. 💕

I just want to say that am so proud of this chapter. I think I wrote my best, angst work here. Plus - Kissing in the rain? Namtiddies? A taste of smau? Hee hee. 🤗

If you make it to here, thank you so so much for reading this story, you lovely, beautiful, human! xo

Part 4 is coming uppp and it’s gonna be a doozy~ 🤭

P.S. As some of y’all know I am a mom and I have experienced post-partum depression before. It was nowhere near the severity of how it is depicted here (a condition that is grave and rare because the character also has other mental struggles), but I empathize. I cannot imagine being truly unfit to care for my own baby. So I request that we do not vilify L&L! LSK. She fucked up real baddd, she could’ve involved Yoongi earlier, etc etc but again she is trying to do better. Plusss, it needs to be said, she does not want Yoongi. Gasp. Y’all can rest easy. He’s yours! 💕

& If you want to read more of my work, please check out my masterlist. & If you enjoy my work and want to buy me a ko-fi, I'd appreciate it.

Taglist:

@yoongznme @nnybtitts08 @rinkud @nbjch05 @perfectiondazesworld

@marnz1990 @mxrauds @queenbloody @jadestonedaeho7 @futuristicenemychaos

@direnediane @glossdebut @maryhopemei @theresstardustinmyblood @mggv97

@wobblewobble822 @kam9404 @supernoonanyc @damn-u-min-yoongi @ot72025

@busanbby-jjk @granataepfelchen @jajabro @tarahardcore @marihoneywk

@ryryvna @tea4sykes @mar-lo-pap @lilkittenjenjen

@captainchrisstan @thelittlecatonthecake

@flaneuseonthestreets @sexytholland @diamonddia-mond

@yronathaniel @as-hs-blog @amarssfanfic @mafersame @amarawayne

@eurydiceofterabithia @diame93 @welcometomyworld13 @wonh0oe @lilkittenjenjen @jalexad

@jkkkkkay @chimmisbae @angellekookie @jovanaprime @txtsoobean @joonlovely

@kookiewithluv @soop-sprite @hyukaluve

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ladykailitha · 3 days ago

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The Rise of The Fallen Part 2

Here we are at last, the end of an era. Other than a short Christmas ficlet this is the end for our boys.

Thank you to everyone who tagged along with me for this long adventure.

Part 1

Abbadon reveals himself and the two most important people in his life. And we see a bit of the aftermath.

Abbadon: So before I take off the mask and let the whole world see who I am first I want to thank our manager, who the world had only known as Miss Celeste Baptiste. Robin Buckley. She is my rock and as Shane said, my platonic soulmate and twin. We might not be related but if feels like we were separated from birth.

A picture is shown of their fashion plate of a manager. Dark black bob, dark sunglasses, slinky feminine clothes. The woman that walks into frame is not that. She still has the slender frame and sharp features but she’s wearing boxy, masculine clothing. Her blond hair is a choppy bob that frames her pretty face and bright blue eyes. She grins as she sits on one of the arms of the chair and Abbadon puts one arm around her waist.

Robin Buckley: Hey guys! To all my friends and family: gotcha! As if someone as wonderful as me would ever be just some rockstar’s low level PA. Slubs!

I laugh. She winks at me and I can feel my cheeks flush.

KL: Were you their manager from the beginning?

RB: Yeah. Abbadon and I have always worked together since our first jobs. There was no doubt that I was going to be their manager.

KL: Tell us about those first couple of years.

She huffs her annoyance, not at the question but at the memory: It was pretty hard just getting into the doors of dive bars. Like really hard. I didn’t look like a manager and they didn’t look like a metal band. They looked like the dads of a metal band.

She kisses the top of Abbadon’s head.

RB: It was Abbadon who came up with the idea. At first it was just me. I’d dress up like some high powered manager maybe they would stop fielding my calls. And it worked to get them in the door, but the second they walked on stage, they’d get booed right back off again.

The band shifts uncomfortably in their seats at the memory. They all seem affected by the booing. Even Shane Kendrick who exudes sunny by nature.

RB: So I suggested they do the same. Dress up as metalheads and the metalheads will come. It was Abbadon that suggested the masks and hoods. All the members in the band have features that can’t be covered up by makeup to make them unrecognizable.

She starts counting off on her fingers.

RB: Spence’s crooked nose, Shane’s red hair and freckles. Simon’s high cheek bones and sharp jaw. And Abbadon’s hair.

I frown

KL: Is it red like Shane’s or something?

Robin and Abbadon laugh. And even Abbadon’s partner smiles widely.

Abbadon: I was famous for my hair in high school. It was even one of my nicknames. The Hair. So yeah. Hoods were the only thing that would cover it for sure all the time.

KL: Why not a wig?

Abbadon: I allergic to whatever they use for them. I’ve tried all kinds but I always end up with a rash and a bloody scalp.

I wince.

KL: That must be painful.

Abbadon: There’s something else the mask covers. I have distinctive moles on my face and while they can be covered with makeup, it’s still visible in certain lights.

RB: Like the stage lights in a stadium. You can tell there’s a bump there.

KL: So masks it was then?

Abbadon nods

Abbadon: But I never thought to cover the ones on my neck. I didn’t think that anyone would be paying attention to those.

Robin smacks his arm playfully.

RB: And we all saw how well that worked out for you.

Abbadon shrugs, clearly unrepentant.

Abbadon: I got a boyfriend out of the deal.

Then Eddie Munson, lead singer of Corroded Coffin walks into frame and sits on the other side of Abbadon on that arm of the chair.

Eddie Munson: That would be me! He waves cheerfully at the camera. I had a crush on Abbadon when we were in high school so I mapped every freckle, every mole, every line that I could see. A lot.

KL: Tell us about how you figured out they were one and the same.

He grins and Abbadon shakes his head fondly.

EM: I went to a concert of theirs with the friend everyone wants to see the reaction to this video filmed. I grilled the kid to figure out if he was in on the secret, too. But nope. He’s definitely caught on by now, though. He winked at the camera. Sweetheart, I have my own confession to make.

Abbadon looks up at him expectantly. Don’t ask me how I can tell with the mask still on. The best I can figure is that he looks like a puppy. Head tilt and all.

EM: Jeff’s known who you are for almost as long as I have.

Abbadon’s laugh is bright and clear.

Abbadon: I know, babe. He told me that first tour together. I thought you knew.

Eddie turns toward the camera slowly.

EM: Jeffrey Oliver Lawrence, I am going to murder you and no one will ever find your body.

Everyone laughs.

Eddie and Abbadon share a look and Abbadon takes a deep breath. He pulls off his mask, but his head is still down. He pushes back the hood and takes a deep shuddering breath. Both Robin and Eddie take one of his hands and gives it a squeeze. Abbadon raises his head. They give his hands another squeeze and exit frame, leaving Abbadon alone in the hot seat.

He’s a good looking man with an easy smile and yes, very distinctive moles. His hair is floppy and a warm honey brown.

Abbadon: Hey, Dustin. I know you’re about ready to murder me right now, and I can absolutely explain if you’ll let me. I’m really, really sorry I didn’t tell you. Hiding this from you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. But I know you. There is no way you would have been able to keep this to yourself. You would have been too excited.

Your two best older guy friends frontmen of their own metal band? You would be vibrating out of your skin to tell people. And you wouldn’t mean to, but someone you thought you could trust would sell me out for a tidy check and whole lot of hurt. Not just me and the rest of The Fallen, but for you too.

I know it’ll be some small consolation, but the first album is about you and your friends. I hope you can forgive me.

Abbadon chokes back tears.

Abbadon: Right. Now that the apology is out of the way. My name is Steve Harrington and I’m 33. Like Shane said, same birthday, year and all. I wasn’t always a metalhead. I only started listening to it because of Corroded Coffin. They were from Hawkins and Dustin highly recommended them to me. So I started listening to them. They were so good that I kept going back to the music store–he rolls his eyes yeah, yeah. Lame I know. But the internet! he waves his hands I wanted a person’s recommendation not some algorithm. And I got really into it.

KL: How long had you been singing?

Abbadon (SH): Since I was a kid. I learned how to play piano, sing, and dance. My mother wanted to me to be a little gentleman. Hell I even had allocation lessons.

My eyebrows shoot up.

KL: Was your mom trying to live out some Jane Austen fantasy through you?

Abbadon (SH) laughs: Something like that.

KL: I’m a little furious about the names, if I’m honest.

Abbadon (SH) throws his head back and laughs. The rest of the band joins in.

Abbadon (SH): I would like to take credit for it because it is so fucking hilarious. But no, that was all Shane.

Astraeus (SK) grins.

Astraeus (SK): Hell yeah it was. Robin hated it at first but once people started using them it just kinda made sense. And the rest is as they say is history.

Abbadon (SH) gets up and moves out of the hot seat to sit with his band.

KL: It must be so strange to be calling each other by your real names.

Asmodeus (SO): Fuck no. We’re friends outside of the band.

Abbadon (SH): I know we don’t have the decade long history of playing together before making it big the way Corroded Coffin does, but we’re solid as friends. We were all invited to Spence’s daughters’ Christening. Shane couldn’t make it because he had another family thing crop on the same weekend, but we support each other.

I am taken back at how fierce Steve Harrington is about the love his bandmates. I can see around him his band relaxes when he takes charge, like a commander of a military unit. They all look up to him, even though Shane and Steve share the same birthday, it’s clear they love Steve like an older brother.

KL: So what’s next for The Fallen?

Azrael (SP): I know fans will be disappointed to hear but we are taking a two year break. We need time for our families to get use to the fact we lied to them for the last twelve years.

Asmodeus (SO): There maybe some heavy fallout that we have to deal with and we don’t want our attention divided like that.

Astraeus (SK): Our music would suffer for it and we don’t want to do that to our fans. We love you guys.

Abbadon (SH): Trust the process. Trust us. I know that seems like a lot to ask right now. But please respect our privacy at this time.

KL: Thank you so much for joining us today. The Fallen everybody!

There is a smattering of claps from the crew and Eddie Munson and Robin Buckley whistle and cheer.

Looking over at the four men that felt they had to hide themselves to be treated with respect in the genre they loved you can see the weight of the world has lifted from their shoulders and they are happy.

“Why does Eddie have to record this?” Dustin whined.

Eddie laughed. “You are the self-proclaimed biggest fan of The Fallen, I’m honestly more surprised that you didn’t want to record it yourself.”

Steve bumped his shoulder into Dustin’s. “And it’s not like we’re going to stream it. If you have a bad reaction, it won’t go up on TikTok. I promise.”

Dustin narrowed his eyes. “Pinkie swear?”

Eddie and Steve both held out their pinkies. Dustin used both of his hands to shake on it and then settled in to watch the video.

Steve shifted nervously in his seat as his three best friends in the world revealed themselves to be members of a famous metal band. As they dropped hints about Abbadon’s identity.

Dustin’s face went from excitement to confusion to anger and Steve braced for the explosion.

But it never came. Dustin, for all his bluster growing up, had changed. He waited until Steve’s reveal and his apology.

Dustin’s anger vanished like mist in the morning sun as he watched TV Steve fight back tears about having to keep this secret from him.

He slowly turned to Steve. “Which songs are about me?”

Steve barked out a laugh. “There’s only one about just you. The rest are about you and your friends. The one about you is ‘Brother’. The ones about you and your friends are ‘The Heart and the Flame, ‘My Lullaby’, and ‘Kiss the Girls, Kiss the Boys’, from the third album is about you guys, too.”

Dustin frowned for a moment. “That last one was directed at Mike and Will specifically, wasn’t it?”

Steve shrugged. “It was aimed at all of you. Kissing who you want to should never have to hurt. Boys or girls. And at the time it was also partially about me being bisexual, too.”

Dustin thought for a moment and then launched himself at Steve, throwing his arms around the boy that became his surrogate older brother.

“I forgive you!” he mumbled into Steve’s shoulder.

Steve sighed in relief. He gave Eddie the thumbs up and he stopped recording.

“I almost told you so many times, Dusty,” Steve murmured. “You have to believe that.”

Dustin nodded. “I’m a little hurt at the moment but I think once the shock wears off, I’ll agree with you. But I’ll be grumpy about it.”

Steve squeezed him tight. “As is your right.”

“I still can’t believe you and Robin told us that you were gofers for the record label!” he huffed.

Steve and Eddie laughed.

“As if we would have stayed if it sucked that bad, bud,” Steve said. “We’ve always moved on and up with every job we’ve ever taken.”

“I guess I didn’t really look hard into it,” Dustin admitted. “The rest of us had all gotten these amazing jobs.”

He began counting on his fingers, “Max is a software designer and motion capture stunt skateboarder for all the Tony Hawk games. Lucas recently retired from a decade long career in the NBA. Mike and Will are New York Times best selling children authors. Ellie is a fashion designer that has had her work featured at New York fashion week. Eddie’s a rockstar, Nancy and Jonathan are an epic journalist duo. Argyle has three food trucks and a Michelin star restaurant in LA. And I work for freaking NASA, man, with my wife.”

“I’m still upset you and Ellie didn’t work out,” Eddie groused.

“She got invited out to London at the same time I got the job at NASA,” Dustin said with a wry smile. “We knew then we wanted different things.”

He huffed out a sigh and rotated on the sofa so he was facing Steve. He twisted his fingers together and bit his lip. “When Azrael talked about how isolating it felt that no one in your lives figured out that you were in one of the biggest metal bands in the country, I scoffed.” He looked down at his hands.

“Because I was so sure if I had known anyone in The Fallen I would have guessed,” Dustin continued. “Only I did know someone and I would have never guessed. I was so willing to believe that you and Robin just didn’t have the ambition to chase your own dreams. And I’m sorry.”

Steve, Robin, and Eddie all hugged him.

“Now you’ve got hella bragging rights at work now,” Robin said with a smile. “You’re friends with Corroded Coffin and The Fallen.”

Dustin lit up and started talking a mile a minute, hands waving and grinning from ear to ear.

Steve pulled out his phone and read the messages he was getting from his best friends and bandmates. There had been a couple of rough moments, like Steve knew was going to come from his own parents and maybe even a couple of their group, but they would make it just fine.

The least surprising thing to come out of the reveal was that Chrissy and Robin were dating and had for a couple of months after their trip around the world, but waited until the reveal to come out to tell people.

The most surprising thing to come out of the reveal was that Simon had plucked up the courage from somewhere to ask Vickie out on a date. She said yes.

There were hints on the horizon of another relationship forming too. And judging from Shane’s texts, once Gareth got over the shock of Abbadon being Steve, the two of them were going to be a pretty sure bet.

Nadia was the only one who really took it in stride. But that woman was unflappable. She just calmly sat Spence down to discuss the sudden invasion of their private lives and how to handle all that. Spence had admitted in the group chat that he cried in relief when she took over.

It looked as though The Fallen was going to rise from the ashes of this experience just fine. Hell, they might even get a album or two out of the deal.

Because “The Rise of The Fallen” sounded like one hell of a song title and album name, too. Their future was going to be as bright as their past. He just had a feeling.

Yes, Robin flirted with Karla but only to make her blush. She is faithful to her Chrissy.

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @chameleonhair @eyehartart

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @garden-of-gay

7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @clockworkballerina

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rockstar steve harrington #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar au

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koyagifs · 3 days ago

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𝓫𝓪𝓭 𝓭𝓮𝓬𝓲𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼

ʚɞ pairing : mingi x reader ʚɞ au : idol! | 9th member ʚɞ summary : singing your new song to atiny at your fan event. ʚɞ word count: 909 words ʚɞ what if! : mingi and yn dated

" ynie! can you sing to us" A atiny called out.

You smiled softly, the crowd's excitement buzzing in the air, but your gaze lingered on Mingi. His presence was calming, his hand a silent reassurance as she looked at him for a moment before turning her attention to the group.

"I'll sing," she said with a small laugh, standing up from her seat beside Mingi. "But only if you promise not to overwhelm me," she teased.

The crowd cheered, and you could feel your nerves begin to settle. You had always loved singing, but performing in front of everyone always took a little extra courage. You glanced back at Mingi one last time, offering him a quiet smile.

" ahh yn you should sing your new song!" Jongho spoke into the microphone, his eyes holding mischief.

Your members chuckled as the crowd cheered. You looked at the crowd, the microphone at your lips.

" atiny, do you want me to sing my new song?"

" yes!" they said in unison

you couldn’t help but laugh softly at the enthusiastic response from the crowd, feeling her nerves completely dissolve. you glanced at Mingi again, who gave you a reassuring nod, his eyes full of encouragement.

"Alright, alright, I’ll do it," you said, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you adjusted the microphone.

" hmm where should i begin," You said, stalling and teasing your fans.

The crowd began to shout recommendations as you laughed again. You held your hand up, the crowd settling down. " i'll do the beginning, how is that atiny?"

The crowd roared with excitement, their cheers almost overwhelming as they responded with even more energy. "Yes!" they shouted in unison.

With a playful wink, you nodded, your fingers lightly gripping the microphone.

boy, you know that you drive me crazy

" unnie! who is the song about?" a fan asked, after you had finish singing.

" ah~ come on atiny you already know who it's about" You said, smiling.

" no" They said in unison.

You chuckled softly, the playful glint in your eyes never fading. The energy in the room was so lively, and it felt like you were sharing a secret with every single fan who was eager for more.

"Really?" you teased, stepping closer to the edge of the stage, the microphone in your hand as you leaned in slightly. "You really don’t know who it’s about?"

The crowd shook their heads, looking at you expectantly. You could see the mixture of curiosity and excitement in their eyes, and you felt a little mischievous.

With a dramatic sigh, you put your hand to your chin as if deep in thought. "Well," you started, drawing it out, "I guess you’ll just have to wait for the next song to figure that out."

The crowd erupted in groans and laughter, and you could feel Mingi’s eyes on you from the side, his soft smile telling you that he knew exactly who the song was about—but he was enjoying the teasing just as much as everyone else.

Mingi held the microphone to his lip, " atiny we'll give you a hint next song alright?"

" is it you mingi hyung?" A male atiny called out.

Mingi laughed, shaking his head in amusement as he looked over at the fan who had called out. "Me?" he said, his voice full of playful disbelief.

Mingi let out a soft hum as he pretend to think, you playfully shoving him. He chuckled before he turned to you.

"what do you think ynnie?"

You raised an eyebrow at him, pretending to think deeply, mirroring his playful expression. "Hmm," you said, drawing out the moment for effect, "Well, oppa... you are pretty charming, but I don't know if the song’s quite sweet enough for you."

The crowd laughed, and you could feel the lighthearted energy spreading through the room. Mingi grinned, leaning slightly toward you. "Oh, really?" he said, teasing. "Then who is it about, huh? Are you sure it's not me?"

You gave him a sly look, shrugging playfully. Mingi leaned down quickly placing a kiss on your cheek.

The moment Mingi’s lips touched your cheek, you froze for a split second, surprised by the suddenness, before you burst into laughter. The crowd’s reaction was immediate—cheers, applause, and even some excited shouts from the fans in the front row. You could hear Wooyoung and San's teasing calls from behind, their voices full of laughter.

"Guess that’s one way to throw them off," Wooyoung shouted, his grin wide.

San added, "Yeah, I think Mingi just gave us a pretty big hint!"

You could feel your cheeks flush, but you played it cool, giving Mingi an exaggerated side-eye. "Really, Mingi oppa?" you teased, wiping your cheek dramatically. "Is this how you solve all your problems?"

The crowd continued to cheer and laugh, clearly loving the playful energy between you both. Mingi just smiled, shrugging nonchalantly. "What can I say? I’m just giving them what they want."

As the excitement died down a little, you looked around at the fans, who were still buzzing with energy, eagerly waiting for more. "Alright, alright, I’ll let you all in on a little secret," you said, giving Mingi a mischievous look. "Maybe someone just got himself a big hint..."

The crowd went wild again, and you couldn’t help but laugh, feeling lighter than ever with Mingi and the whole team by your side.

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kategivesup · 2 days ago

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Sort of, unofficially. My dad came from a religious catholic family and then one of his older sisters became born again evangelical, meanwhile my dad is pretty much atheist and is a member of the Unitarian Universalist congregation, and moved to New England. So as a kid we really only saw them once a year or every other year at thanksgiving, then when my grandmother died we had no reason to drive 9 hours thru Pennsylvania, so I haven’t seen or heard from them in 20 years. There was no falling out that I know of. My dad still has them on Facebook, but I have no desire to get to know them, other than the one cousin we were sure was closeted. Curious what happened to her, if she’s still doing the “haven’t found the right man yet” charade in her 50s.

My mom’s side I know my grandma, aunts and cousins, but there are dozens of extended family I’ve only ever met one time at my grandfather’s funeral. 🤷🏻‍♀️ I don’t think it counts as estranged if I never knew them to begin with

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 days ago

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miss raven sharing her bday w leona will never not be funny to me 😭😭😭😭 and due to recent developments (???), it's even more hilarious...

[Referencing this post!]

I REALLY PLAYED MYSELF, DIDN’T I🧍‍♂️

If you can believe it, there’s actually (both irl and in-universe) reasoning behind Miss Raven and Leona sharing a birthday. The first ever Miss Raven introduction/lore drop I made on this blog was posted on July 27th back in 2020, so I personally consider that date her birthday. At the time, we didn’t have birthday cards yet (the first was Jamil’s Birthday Boy in September 2020) so I was not paying attention to the date and whether or not it was a character’s birthday. I would only learn afterwards that July 27th is… Leona’s… birthday… OTL

But!! I looked on the bright side. I reasoned to myself that even if I didn’t like his character back then that this actually worked out for Miss Raven’s lore. There are 22 characters in the main cast, meaning most months of the year have 2 birthdays. The only exceptions are Sebek (March) and Leona (July). Since Twst JP launched in March 2020, the month had already passed (and it took me some time to develop my OC). Plus, March has another huge holiday: the founding of NRC (Twst launch day). That leaves only Leona with a month where there’s technically “one” relevant holiday and fit into the time frame.

cbjsvsjwjwown Anyway, the in-universe reason I came up with for why Miss Raven shares a birthday with Leona is because…! In the very beginning, she’s not confident and thinks of herself as just a side character in the story, there only to prop up and support the main characters (ie the NRC cast), which includes Leona. In coincidentally sharing the same birthday as him, she feels as though she’s less important and has to step down to allow Leona the spotlight. Later on, when she has a better grasp on her sense of self, Miss Raven is able to celebrate without remorse or guilt. It’s part of her character arc ^^

… You can’t see it, but I’m laughing and crying at the same time over this coincidence 💀 IT ALMOST FEELS LIKE (dare I say it) FATE…

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Leona Kingscholar #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #Raven Crowley #notes from the writing raven #Sebek Zigvolt #NOT L*ONA ROT

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theoncomingchaos · 22 hours ago

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Who loves Rook: Spite or Lucanis

I've been seeing a lot of discourse about this, and I just want to add my thoughts.

I might be totally wrong about this, but here we go. When Spite was put into Lucanis, he was still Determination. The fact that he changed throughout the torture, forced insertion, and imprisonment suggests to me that they have been put into a speedrun of a similar situation to Anders and Justice/Vengeance where they have started to meld. (As Anders put it, you wouldn't know where one begins and the other ends). Just like Anders and Vengeance, Lucanis and Spite can have separate consciousnesses and even disagree about things, but their core values have started to influence one another and become a part of one another- heightening certain aspects.

I think this melding is why we see some dialogues where Rook tells Lucanis that he sounds like Spite and similarly it's also the reason for the shared attraction- which I fully believe is coming originally from Lucanis.

I'll be honest my first time through I romanced Lucanis and was very disappointed. I didn't even see him and Neve ever flirt (she only ever encouraged us!) But still, it seemed to go from 0 to 60 with him. Now, I am on my second playthrough and I only just met him, but I am starting to see some really subtle looks and dialogues that suggest that Lucanis wasn't lying later when he said he was attracted to Rook from the beginning, but was afraid to really pursue anything or even acknowledge the possibility of being with them. With his fear of trusting people, ptsd from the prison, failed history in romance, and his new situation with Spite that he still hadn't worked out yet, he never thought anything would or could ever come of his feelings. We know Lucanis loves romance stories and likely longs for one of his own, but in such a situation it must have seemed truly impossible and terrifying to let someone else in. Especially someone you really care for and are starting to trust. So, he pushed it all down. Rook flirts? Maybe a small smile, but then quickly lock it all up with everything else he can't handle. Focus on work. Don't think about Spite, or Rook, or anything difficult.

However, if the melding has already happened as I suspect, then the feelings Spite is expressing are shared with (and likely sourced from) Lucanis, he's just better at expressing it directly- which makes sense for a spirit that was once Determination. When you first talk to Lucanis after the rescue, the thing Spite says about Rook changes accordingly to your tone, but to me the responses still sound like they come from Lucanis and are then echoed in Spite: "He doesn't want to hurt us." Even the "He's more fun than you" is something Lucanis seems to think about himself as he is fully aware that much of his life has not been his own and believes "all he knows is death."

Leading back to the main point, Lucanis's trust and interest in Rook would be heightened by Spite the way Anders' anger towards the templars was heightened. Even though they are finally free from the prison, their is a sense of constant suffering from still feeling trapped by fear, regret, and pain- Spite feels that suffering too. The elements of determination are still within him the same way justice is another side to vengeance. Both spite and vengeance are the results of failing to achieve their goals of Justice and Determination. Spite sees Rook as a way to free them from pain and restraint, a glowing and beautiful key to the prison door, and he is determined to do what needs to be done to solve the problem. That's why he doesn't hesitate. He has no fear. He wants to talk to Rook. He wants Rook to come in and free them.

After Rook has freed them, they become a source of comfort and safety, once they encourage Lucanis and Spite to find a way to cohabit comfortably, the two continue to meld, and the need to protect Rook, to love Rook, to keep them, is very deeply shared. Now, IF Spite was somehow removed or even somehow restored (Both of which I think are impossible) that would likely change. Determination outside of Lucanis would likely become more like Compassion. He would likely forget the horrors he experienced to return to his original purpose.

So, that leaves some final questions, particularly one Hawke helpfully asked Anders- Is Spite an unwilling party in the threesome?

That's up to everyone's own morality. While both Spite and Lucanis didn't have a choice to become like this, it is the situation they are in and the way they have to find a way to accept and live with because there really doesn't seem to be any real way to change it. Through their time together, Lucanis and Spite have influenced each other and grown into something new. Part of that is Spite also loving Rook. In that way, for those who are feeling (rightfully) underwhelmed by Lucanis's romance, Spite can almost be seen as a symbolic expression of Lucanis's love.

All that being said, I think there were some small things they could have done to make the romance more satisfying over all...but I'll save that for another post.

#Dragon Age #DA:TV #dragon age the veilguard #DA4 #DA:V #lucanis dellamorte #spite dragon age #dragon age rook #lucanis x rook #lucanis romance #spoilers #Maybe I'm missing something but this currently where I'm at with trying to digest things and figure out what the goal was with this romance

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babymetaldoll · 1 day ago

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Are you mine? - Chapter thirteen: "I've never known a normal day in my entire life"

Summary: Spencer's mother moves in with her son and wife. This is exactly when things start going south for the Reids. Word count: 9.750 Warning: Sad Spencer, violence, sadness, angst. A/N: My poor babies... at least Spencer isn't alone during these sad times.

Series' Masterlist - Author's masterlist

Previous chapter | Next chapter (post date: November 27th)

(Y/N)'s point of view

After Hotch's departure and everything that it meant, I really wasn't at my best. It took me a few days to get into the right mental state again. I was scared the entire time, honestly. I kissed my babies every morning before dropping them at daycare, thinking anything could happen to them while we were at work. And Spencer knew it. The way he looked at me, he was worried, I could tell. But he wasn't saying anything. He wasn't dealing with it. He was waiting, I guess. Waiting for anything to happen, and force us to deal with what was happening around us.

And work, of course, didn't help at all. A few weeks after Prentiss' arrival as our new Unit Chief, Mr. Scratch targeted our team, again. That time, he kidnaped and tortured Tara's brother, Gabriel, while brainwashing and drugging a poor guy called Desmond Holt, and convinced him he was Gabriel.

It was one of the hardest cases we had to deal with in the last months, 'cos that guy didn't know he wasn't Gabriel, he was sure he was Tara's brother. And he knew everything about them. Even their secret handshake. I couldn't even begin to think what Mr. Scratch had done to Gabriel to get all that information. It was everything I had been afraid of in the recent weeks, starting from the second Prentiss said:

- "I've placed protective details on Hayden and Joy, Sofia and the babies, and Will and the boys. We need to assume that Mr. Scratch is targeting this entire team."

I refused to make eye contact with Spencer that minute, though I could feel him watching me. I knew our workline was dangerous, and things could get serious from one minute to the other. I just didn't need a reminder. So I did what I do best. I focused on work and refused to think of anything else until the case was solved.

Ironically, I became Tara's rock during the investigation. I remained by her side, or at the other side of the mirror while she interrogated Desmond. I repeated countless times how everything was going to get better. That we were going to find her brother Gabriel safe. I stayed with her father and buried any fear I had about my family's safety 'cause it was the right thing to do at work.

But I was getting fed up with what Scratch was doing to our team. He was making me feel a fear I didn't know before, and he was pushing us, playing with us, and getting away with it every single fucking time. That's why, when we got ready to catch him and bring Gabriel back safely, all I kept thinking was killing that son of a bitch.

- "Please, chipmunk, be safe."- Spencer whispered as he checked on my bulletproof vest, the same way he did every time we were out on a mission.

- "You too, Batsy."

- "Always."- he replied and kissed the tip of my nose. I made sure his vest was secured as well and looked at him.

- "You are making dinner tonight, by the way."- I reminded him, just to get out of my head for a moment.

- "So we are eating take-out tonight"- he joked under his breath as the rest of the team gathered outside the elevator.

- "Healthy and balanced dinner for Raven. I'm expecting veggies, protein... Maybe some fruit."- but it wasn't the time or the place to be sweet. We had to focus. The elevator's door opened and we all got in but Tara. She had a short and emotive conversation with her father before stepping. As soon as the doors closed and we started descending, Emily said:

- "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm getting tired of losing to this rat-faced son of a bitch."- I turned to her and nodded, biting my lips not to curse, 'cos I knew Tara was going through hell, and we had to keep our shit together. - "He's not gonna take anyone else away from us, not on my watch. Am I clear?"

- "Yes boss."- I replied and Prentiss nodded at us.

- "Let's get to work."

Like every cliché unsub we had tracked, Mr. Scratch hid Gabriel in a warehouse. Who would have known they'd pick such an original location? We got there with a SWAT team, ready to deal with whatever trap that mother fucker had set for us. Spencer found out as soon as we cleared the perimeter where the controller of the main trap was. He just needed to figure out how to dismantle it, which did in a matter of minutes and we were lucky to bring Gabriel back safe and sound. However, we didn't get even close to catching Mr. Scratch, and my fears became stronger. That mother fucker was out there, and he knew who we were, our weaknesses, and how to get to us.

- "Mommy, can we go to the park?"- Raven asked me when we picked her up from my mom's that evening. We made it out early, and I wanted to enjoy every single second of the day with our babies.

- "Of course!"- I replied as Spencer secured her in her chair in the car, and I did the same with baby Vinny.

- "And then we could grab some ice cream."- my husband suggested.- "And maybe a new book to read before bed."

- "Yes!!"- our daughter has always been excited when it comes to a trip to the bookstore. She is very much like her dad, and I love that.

- "Are you available for dinner sometime this week?"- I read Frank's text as I sat behind the wheel, and Spencer looked at me almost scared.

- "Please don't tell me we have a case."

- "No, Frank wants to meet for dinner this week."

- "That'd be nice."- Spencer's answer surprised me. I don't know why I thought he wouldn't be in the mood to meet with the guys considering the stress we were under. - "We could use a fun evening with our friends."- which was true.

- "I love Uncle Frany!"- Raven yelled from the back seat, making me chuckle. Call me crazy, but knowing my daughter and my best friend had a close godfather/goddaughter relationship had always made me happy. Those are the sweet, beautiful things in life I didn't want anyone ruining. Never.

Spencer's point of view

I tried to keep my wife calm and happy. I kissed her and told her I loved her as many times as I could every day without transgressing any PDA rules at work. I cooked dinner three times a week, did every one of my chores, played and read bedtime stories to my children, went grocery shopping, and made love to my wife looking into her eyes and telling her how much I loved her. But work didn't help, and neither did reality. Life was getting harder, messy, and more challenging, no matter how hard I tried to make it all perfect.

Over a month after putting my mother into a new facility in Houston, Texas, to be part of an experimental group of investigation that had incredible research and promised to stop and basically heal patients with Alzheimer's, I got a call that ended my mental peace and brought me back to reality.

We were working on a case in Yakima, Washington. I was all alone in the police station, staring at the board with the information of the victims, waiting for (Y/N) to come back with Rossi from the field, where they were talking with the parents of the unsub's first victim. We were making progress, but we were against the clock, as usual. My head was going a hundred miles an hour, trying to think of ways to locate the unsub, until my phone rang. It was my mom.

- "Hi, Mom. I was gonna call you a little bit later. How are you..."

- "Spencer! You have to help me!"

- "What?"

- "They are missing! Someone took them!"- my mother's voice was frantic, almost hyperventilating.

- "Who's missing?"- I narrowed my eyes, trying to imagine who could be taken from a clinic, and how.

- "Pat and Grace! I haven't seen them in days! I need your team to help me find them!"

. "No, Mom. Pat and Grace live in Las Vegas. You're in Houston, at the Anderson clinic. We moved there last month, remember?"- I could feel my heart breaking as my mother spoke those words. She was having an episode. She was absolutely lost.

- "In... in Texas? I'm living in Texas?"- her confusion was palpable, as well as my defeat. She wasn't getting any better. If anything, she was worse.

- "Yeah, in Texas."

- "Oh... I'm sorry Spencer. I'm... not feeling very well, my head... maybe I should lay down for a while."

- "Absolutely. A nap sounds like a really great idea. Why don't you get a little bit of rest and I'm gonna call you back later, ok?"

- "Yes... how are the kids? Raven is going to school already?"

- "They are great, mom. I'll tell you everything later, ok? Just get some rest. I love you."

- "I love you too, honey."

I stared at the phone after I hung up, thinking - overthinking sound about right- about all the calls I had had with my mom in the last month. Until that second, I was sure she was doing better, but clearly, she wasn't. The complete opposite, in fact: my mother was having an episode and she sounded as lost as possible.

- "Is everything all right?"- JJ walked into the room holding two cups of coffee. I kept staring at the phone in my hands as she moved closer to me and gave me one of the cups.

- "It's my mom."- I confessed and placed the phone back in my pocket.- "She was confused. There she was and she was convinced that her friends had been kidnapped. She wanted us to investigate."

- "Spence, I'm sorry."- she whispered and stared at me with honest sadness.

- "This was my biggest fear, you know, about getting her into the clinical trial. I think she's getting a placebo."- it wasn't something I would talk about much at the moment, but right there, I just needed to get that off my chest 'cos it was shocking, and it hurt like a stab in the heart.

- "But you said she was getting better."- JJ moved even closer and kept her eyes on mine.

- "She was. Or I... I was... I don't know, I was fooling myself into thinking that. Maybe I wanted to believe it so much that I was experiencing the placebo effect, too."- I rambled thinking I had been a fool.

- "Is there anything I can do?"

- "I don't know."- I sighed and felt JJ wrapping her arm around me. So I hugged her back and felt like a failure. No matter what I did, I just couldn't help my mom.

- "I'm so sorry, Spence."

- "Hell...o."- (Y/N) opened the door and stared at us hugging. Rossi walked along with her and raised both eyebrows. JJ let me go and stared at my wife in panic like she caught us doing something awful, I don't know why.

- "Everything ok?"- David asked and I shook my head.

- "I just..."- I opened my mouth and kept my eyes on my wife, who looked like she needed an explanation. - "I just got a call from my mom, she was having an episode."

- "What? Seriously?"- (Y/N) seemed as affected as I was by the news.

- "Could you... excuse us for a second?"- I moved to her and held her hand as I walked her out of the room, to a more private place. Rossi and JJ nodded and didn't say a thing, but JJ smiled at me sadly when I looked at her before I closed the door behind my back.

- "What happened? What did she say?"- my wife asked and sat on a desk in the bullpen of the police station. I stood close to her, staring at my hands, and biting my lips, trying not to cry.

- "She thought her friends were taken hostage. She didn't know where she was, she thought it was Las Vegas. I hadn't heard her so lost in months..."

- "Honey..."- my wife wrapped her arms around my waistline and moved me closer to her body. I rested my head on hers and simply sighed. - "You should put an eye on her."

- "I know..."

- "Maybe you could bring her home. Take care of her until we decide what to do next."

- "We have a baby and a toddler. You are under enough stress, I could never..."- (Y/N)'s eyes stopped me from saying another word. She moved and looked at me with such love and care I nearly cry

- "Remember when I said "In sickness and health" while getting married? It didn't just mean your health, but our family as well."

- "Technically, you didn't say that. We wrote our own votes, and you quoted Emily Bronte."- I argued and made her roll her eyes.- "I don't wanna put you through something that I know won't be easy, chipmunk."

- "We are not together just when things are easy, we are stronger when life gets shitty."- my wife whispered and lodged a small kiss on my lips.

- "What did I do to deserve you?"- the question wasn't meant to be said out loud, I just asked myself the same thing at least once every day.

- "You deserve all the good things that happen to you, Spencer."- (Y/N) replied and caressed my cheek as she stood in front of me. - "Now let's work and we'll talk to Prentiss when the case is solved."

We were lucky to wrap up the case in a few hours, so as we flew back home, I made two cups of coffee and walked to our Unit Chief to do the unthinkable.

- "Coffee?"- my voice shook as I stood by her seat and handed her a cup.

- "Oh, you are a lifesaver."- Prentiss replied with a warm smile and I sat in front of her, rearranging the words in my head in the process. And, of course, she noticed.- "What's going on?"

- "I need to take some time off."- my voice was soft as I went straight to the point. I wanted to explain to her what had happened with my mother while she was gone, but at the same time, I didn't want to share more than what I had to with her.

- "Ok. When?"

- "As soon as we get back."- my reply surprised her, her jaw dropped and she kept blinking, processing what I was saying. - "I normally wouldn't do this, especially with everything we have going on and the new agent, but it's my mom. I don't think the clinical trials are helping her."

- "Spence, I'm so sorry."- Em whispered and her hand found mine as she tried to comfort me.

- "I need to see for myself what's happening in Houston, and, you know, talk to the doctors, try to figure out what's next."

- "As you should. Did you talk to (Y/N) about this?"

- "Yes."

- "Are you going alone?"

- "Yes, she has to stay with the kids, and help the team."- Prentiss nodded. I think she could read on my face and gesture how I didn't want my wife to carry the burden of my mother's disease.

- "Listen, we'll be fine. And we'll support (Y/N) with the kids. You take as long as you need."

- "Thank you."- it was the only thing I seemed to be able to say.

- "I have one condition. I need you to check in every day, no matter what. I need to know you're ok."

- "It's understood."- tears filled my eyes and threatened to fall as I fought to keep them at bay. I didn't want to cry in front of Emily, or in front of anyone. I just wanted to get home and put an eye on my mother.

(Y/N) knew I was keeping things to myself. That's why that night, after our babies were in bed, she wrapped her arms and legs around me as we lay on our bed and I immediately buried my head on her chest.

- "You are not alone, Spencer. I love you."- she whispered and kept running her fingers through my hair very slowly.- "Please, let me in."

- "I'm just worried about my mom."- I whispered and bit my tongue.

- "Remember last time something really bad happened and we thought Emily was dead?"- oh no.- "You tried to be the man you thought I needed, kept all your emotions to yourself, and ended up getting Dilaudid behind my back."

- "Chipmunk, I'm not getting Dilaudid."

- "I know, I know. I'm just saying... I don't want you to think you have to be strong for me. I just want you to share how you feel, the way I tell you when life is too shitty for me."- I stayed quiet, all I could hear was the beat of her heart against my ear as she held me close. I knew I had to let my wife in, but I was still very scared she was going to think I was weakling.

- "I don't want to overwhelm you."- that was the best I could do.

- "Give it a try."- she replied.- "I'm with the FBI. I've seen shit."- she replied and I chuckled for a second. She kept me close to her, making me feel like she was able to keep me together. - "We were best friends for many years before we became a couple, and back then you used to tell me everything. Don't hold yourself back now. I'm here to help you, to love you, no matter what."

Those were the words that broke me. I could feel my walls going down as the tears started falling from my eyes.

- "I don't... I don't know how to fix this."- I finally confessed and simply sobbed in my wife's arms, not knowing what else to say, or do. I had no idea what to do with my life, with everything. What was the use of being so smart if I couldn't help the ones I loved? It was so frustrating and unfair.

- "It's ok, honey bunny."- my wife kissed my forehead and wrapped her arms tighter around me.- "Just let it all out."

I don't know how long I cried in my wife's arms. A part of me felt it was embarrassing, but honestly, it actually made me feel better. I did as she asked and let it all out. All the tears and all the fears.

- "It's just so unfair."- I whispered once I had calmed down a little. (Y/N) had her arms locked around my body and I hid in her neck. - "She already has a mental disease, why did she have to get a second one? Life has been hard enough for her! Now I have to sit here and just watch all of our memories together fade away forever."

- "I'm so sorry, honey."- my wife kissed my face and held me tighter.- "I'm so sorry this had to happen to you."

- "And it's just worse knowing it could be my fate as well."- I confessed and felt like crying again.- "I mean, it's in my genes, like schizophrenia, and we would never know until I start showing the first signs. Or I could have passed it to our babies... and one day they'd..."

- "Shhh, don't go there, honey. Don't. There is nothing we can do about it, not about you, or about our kids. It is what it is and we can't change it."

- "But this is not what you deserve!"- I whined and started sobbing again.- "This is not what I wanted to give you."

- "But I wanted you. All of you. Not just the good part. The hot doctor with all the answers. I wanted this other side too." - I didn't know what to say, so I just sighed and cried as she held me.

- "I wish..."- I whispered after a few seconds.- "Things were easier."

- "We can't complain."- she replied and I could almost hear her sweet smile as she spoke softly.- "So far, we've had fun. We've been healthy, we have smart babies, we've got the chance to travel. We have friends who love and support us. We just need to get a bigger place and we would be peachy."- I chuckled between tears at that last remark.

- "You really wanna move?"

- "Don't act all innocent, we've talked about this before."

- "I know..."- I replied and moved from her neck to look her in the eyes.- "I still have to make peace with the idea of leaving this apartment. But I know we will have to do it eventually"- and she just nodded.

- "We don't have to figure it out all tonight, honey bunny."- and she kissed the tip of my nose. - "How about you try to get some sleep now? You have an early flight tomorrow."- I nodded and sighed as she cuddled me underneath the covers of our bed.

- "I love you so much, ma cherie."

- "I love you more, honey bunny. Thank you for trusting me. I will always be here to help you. No matter what. You don't have to carry any burden on your own."

And as hard as it is for me to realize, she was right. I wasn't alone.

(Y/N)'s point of view

Spencer's departure to Houston wasn't easy. We both knew what he was going to face during that trip, and it was clearly something for longer than just a weekend. Mom helped with the kids, as she usually did, plus Garcia and Emily were my rocks. They took care of the little things I didn't have much time for, like packing my own lunch, helping me clean and even changing a few diapers.

- "I'm not sure this is why you moved from London"- I said to Prentiss one morning she showed up earlier to give me a hand getting the kids ready.

- "I mean, changing baby clothes with vomit wasn't on this year's bingo card, but I'm not complaining."- Em replied as she held Vincent in her arms after finally getting him dressed and we walked to the kitchen.

- "I'm sorry."

- "(Y/N), please. I love to help. It's extra time we get together, and I feel like I've missed so much in the last few years."- Prentiss kissed Vincent's cheek a few times and added- "Garcia kept me updated with the news, but it's not the same as watching your kids grow up. I mean... you and Spencer have two kids already! I feel like it was yesterday you two were in denial of your feelings and we had to push you to face them."

- "Those were the days."- I said as Raven ran into the kitchen holding her bag and opened her arms to me.

- "Up mama!!"

- "Are you ready for school, Birdy?"

- "Yes!"

- "Let's make sure I packed all of your favorite snacks then, and we'll be ready to go."

- "When is dada coming back?"- Raven asked as she wrapped her arms around my neck and rested her head on my chest, completely melted.

- "He will come back very soon, birdy. We should call him tonight and make sure he knows how much we miss him."- I kissed the top of her head, and added some more apple slices with peanut butter in her lunch bag.

- "Can we ask him to read us a bedtime story tonight?"- Raven asked innocently, as she stayed in my arms.

- "Sure! Now let's go to the car before we are too late."

Emily helped me load the car, lunches, kids, and my go bag, which I knew wasn't going to be of any use while Spencer was out of town. I was staying in Quantico, helping from my desk until my husband was back from Texas.

- "See you in a while at the BAU."- my friend said with a big grin after waving goodbye to my kids. - "I have to help Stephen with some paperwork. He is still getting used to this new position."

- "Bye Em, thank you"

Stephen Walker had joined the team the day Spencer left for Houston. He had been transferred from the Behaviour Analysis Program, the BAP. He was charming, with over 20 years of experience working for the Bureau, and a friend of both Prentiss and Rossi. They were thrilled to have him, especially if we considered we were one agent down and I couldn't join them on the field.

Besides, he helped through a very shitty time in the BAU: Rossi's birthday. The man hated that date, and each year we tiptoed around it. That year was even worse considering Tommy Yates, the serial killer he had a deal with on his birthday, was out on the loose. He was supposed to give Rossi the name and location of one victim every day on that date every year, ergo why Papa Pasta hated that date so much. Yates had killed over 40 victims that we knew, but he claimed it had been over 100. I think Rossi felt guilty not to get more names and give peace to the families of so many missing girls. That year, Yates started killing again around Rossi's birthday, and instead of going back to jail, he ended up dead in David's backyard.

I'm sure Rossi will never enjoy his birthday. He will always think of the lives he couldn't save. I get that feeling. No matter how many lives we actually save.

- "Chipmunk, I don't know if I can do this"- Spencer whispered at the other side of the line. He had been gone for two weeks and we were both exhausted. I was lying on our bed, Raven was asleep, softly snoring next to me and Vicent was in my arms as I breastfed him one more time.

- "Why don't you bring her here?"- I suggested one more time. I had told him to do that at least five times since he was away, but he always refused.

- "I told you, it would be too much work."

- "We can handle it! She is my family too and I wanna help."

- "I know, ma cheriè but..."

- "But what?"- Spencer sighed at the other side of the line, clearly trying to gather the right words to explain his mind.

- "I don't think it's fair."- he finally whispered, and that was not what I was expecting to hear.

- "Fair?"

- "Yes..."

- "Life isn't fair, Spencer. You know that."

- "But having to take care of my mother it's not what... it's not the life I wanna give you."- it was a little heartbreaking hearing that. No matter what I did, Spencer still couldn't understand I was there for him, through sickness and health.

- "So you think we are just taking care of your mother?"- I asked him and chuckled.- "Spencer Walter Reid, one day my mom will be sick and old and we will have to take care of her as well, and probably my father too, 'cos Phoenix would never be that kind of son."

- "I am not sure it's the same thing, chipmunk."

- "Hey! My parents could have an awful old age!"- I joked and I could almost hear him smiling as he said

- "It's not a competition, baby"

- "I know it's not! I'm just trying to make you understand this is not a one-way. It's not just me helping you with your mother, we are a team, and we tackle these issues together. Today it's Diana, tomorrow Sofia, who knows!"

- "What about the babies?"

- "What about them?"- I whispered and looked at them. Raven was still asleep, hugging the stuffed unicorn Mikey had gotten her and Vincent was slowly falling asleep against my breast.

- "Having my mom around would make things harder for us and for them as well."

- "We can manage. We are a team. We handle far worse things at work daily. And we can hire a caretaker for your mom. That way she wouldn't be alone while we are out."- there was silence on the line for a few seconds. Spencer was most likely trying to think of all the scenarios that could happen. Until he finally whispered.

- "You are not gonna let this go, are you?"

- "I'm never going to stop fighting to help you, especially when you are being stubborn."- I smiled and bit my lip thinking I just wanted to have him back home as soon as possible so I could hug him and kiss him.

- "I love you, Mrs. Reid."

- "I love you too, Mr. Reid."

Spencer came back on a Thursday. He and Diana took a cab home while I was at work. I got some groceries to make dinner and picked up the kids from my mother's. We turned Vinny's nursery into a guest bedroom for Diana, considering our baby wasn't using it at the moment. We were going to be cramped, but maybe it was the way I could finally convince Spencer to move into a bigger place. A house outside town, where our kids would ride their bikes and play with their friends like I had done growing up.

- "Dada!!"- Raven ran to Spencer as soon as I opened the front door, carrying Vincent and the groceries with me.

- "Birdy! Look at you!"- he held her in his arms and lifted her from the ground, kissing her cheeks and wrapping his arms around her. - "I missed you, Raven."

- "Missed you too, dada"

- "Guess you were just asking for you."- Spencer rushed to me and grabbed the baby carrier with baby Vinny in it from my hands and kissed my lips, still carrying Raven in his arms. He was literally holding his entire family at the same time.

- "Welcome home."- I whispered and hummed against his lips as I felt him smile.

- "Where is my beautiful granddaughter?"- Diana's voice took us back to reality. Raven nearly jumped from Spencer's arms and ran to Diana.

- "Memaw!!"

- "Raven Marie Reid, when did you get so tall? You are the most beautiful little girl I've ever seen!"- I smiled as I looked at the sweet scene in front of me. Diana kissed our daughter's cheek and turned to me with one bright smile that slowly turned into a frown.

- "I'm so happy to see you again Diana."- I said with a big smile before I noticed how bad things were going.

- "Whose baby is that?"- she pointed at Vincent with harsh eyes.- "Did you have another baby and never told me? Why are you excluding me?"

- "Mom, mom"- Spencer took a step closer to Diana and softly moved Raven out of the way.- "This is Vincent Spencer Reid, our baby. You've met him before. We actually went on a trip together."

- "Don't try to play me for a fool, Spencer. I had never seen that baby before!"- I moved my arm and grabbed Raven's hand as she looked at the scene unfolding in front of her in pure confusion.

- "Come on Birdy, memaw is tired from the trip. Let's go to your room and play for a while before we make dinner."- she didn't question me, which I will always be thankful for. I walked with her and Vinny and left Spencer alone with his mother, to help her clear her head. If it was even possible.

That brief moment was the first approach to how difficult the following weeks were going to get.

Spencer's point of view

Dealing with my mother was harder than I imagined. And I had imagined the worst. The first night she didn't recognize Vincent and for a solid hour, she argued I had been lying and keeping her in the dark about my family 'cos I was ashamed of her. Ashamed as the time I had put her away in the mental facility when I was eighteen.

And it didn't get easier from there.

While I was away, (Y/N) interviewed some caretakers and selected three. The first one I hired lasted one morning and left before I could even leave the house to get some groceries. She claimed my mother was impossible, and that she couldn't help her. It didn't matter how much I begged and promised she would be good, that poor woman stormed out of the apartment and never looked back.

The second one lasted two days. I was hopeful and even decided to return to work. That morning, Mom looked great. The caretaker arrived and we left to drop the kids at daycare and then drove to work. Me and my wife felt hopeful things were going to work out. We were trying our best, of course, things had to go well.

- "I'm gonna get you a nice cup of coffee."- (Y/N) said as soon as she left her things on her desk, right in front of mine. - "I missed having you here."

- "Trust me, I missed the sight from my desk the most."- I held her hand and stole a small peck from her lips before she walked to the kitchenette, smiling and blushing. I followed her with my eyes for a few seconds before I started unpacking my bag.

- "Hey! Welcome back!"- JJ's voice took me from my task. She sounded happy to see me as I turned around and gave her a bone-crushing hug.

- "I missed you so much!"- I said with a big smile and then turned to her companion. - "You must be Walker"

- "It's great to finally meet you"- he said with a warm smile- "Your wife and the team talk so much about you, Dr. Reid."

- "Please, just call me Spencer. And it's great to finally meet you too, I've heard nothing but wonderful things from you. (Y/N) told me how much of a great addition to the team you've been."- I turned to look at my wife, who was still in the kitchenette, now talking with Anderson.

- "Speaking of wonderful things, how is your mom doing?"

- "She is ok, you know. We have good days and bad days."

- "So, are you still going to Houston to visit her on the weekends?"- but before I could explain there was no need for me to do that anymore, 'cos she was living with us, my cell phone rang.

- "Excuse me"- I said to JJ as I quickly picked up.- "Dr. Reid here."

- "Dr Reid, I need you to come back home! Your mother flooded the entire apartment!"

- "What?"

- "She keeps saying I'm spying on you, and she is locked in the bathroom!"

- "All right, stay there. I'll be right..."

- "Please hurry!"

- "I'm on my way, ok? Thanks."- I didn't even turn to JJ or Stephen, I just mumbled "Sorry, guys, I have to go," as I ran to my wife and grabbed her arm.- "There's an emergency and I have to go home."

- "What happened?"- her eyes were wide opened in a second, alarmed

- "Mom flooded the apartment. The caretaker called me."

- "I'm coming with you!"- but before she could start walking to her desk to grab her thighs, I held her hand and stopped her.

- "No, chipmunk. I'll take care of this.

- "Shit! Take the car!"- she ran to her purse and brought me the keys.- "And if anyone asks, I'll tell them a pipe broke in our apartment, ok?"- I nodded as I felt her hands on my face and her lips on mine, for a short second.

- "Love you."

- "Me too"- she whispered and smiled as I started running again, making my way back home.

The entire place was a disaster. I had to talk with our downstairs neighbors and compromise on paying for any flood damage in their place. The caretaker quit, arguing my mom had threatened to kill her. And my mother had a crisis. I don't think I had ever seen her act that way. She wasn't herself anymore. Clearly, no med was helping her.

- "Is she gone?"- Mom rushed out of the room, almost hyperventilating.

- "Mom, what did you say to her?"

- "She was trying to get information from me. Kept asking questions!"- the way mom slammed our front door and stood against it, like stopping anyone from entering the place (though I knew no one was trying to do it) was... not the worst that happened that day.

- "Of course she was. She's supposed to!"- it was ten in the morning, and I was already losing my patience.

- "I told you to be careful about the people you bring into this house. There are spies everywhere!"- I sighed as I stood in front of her, trying to calm myself down.

- "She's not a spy. She was here to help you."

- "Shh! She might still be out there listening."- she whispered, nearly in tears. She was worse than dealing with my kids, and she was my mother. I had to take several deep breaths to stop me from yelling- "Don't ever let her come back in here again, please. Promise me!"

- "I will promise you that because she is never coming back! She walked out!"- and even though I tried, I ended up screaming anyway, 'cos after a few days, my mom was already driving me crazy.

- "Good. Because we can only trust each other now. Nobody else. Just you and me."

I stared at my mother as she opened the door and peeked out to the hall, to make sure no one was there, spying on us. I already knew delusions may occur in middle- to late-stage Alzheimer's. Confusion and memory loss can contribute to these untrue beliefs, but one thing is knowing the theory and another very different is dealing with your mother in that state.

(Y/N) and I had talked about what to do in that kind of situation. How to handle a crisis. I knew I didn't have to take offense. I had to listen to and try to understand Mom's reality. Never argue or try to convince her. Instead, I had to acknowledge her opinions. But at that minute, all I could think of was "What am I putting my children and my wife through?"

Saying that things were going to be harder than I thought was an understatement. Apparently, I had been in the dark about how bad things were getting for her Alzheimer's... or I had been in denial for a very long time. The second option was more likely the correct answer, though I didn't want to recognize it.

But as they say, denial is not only a river in Egypt. Back then I was sure I could help cure my mother's disease one way or another. I just needed to put my mind to it. I had already gone to the extreme with this thought. Bringing my mother home, going behind my wife's back, and traveling to Mexico with my personal passport instead of my FBI documents to get her some alternative medicine. I was all over the place, and it was showing.

Mom went to her room and I continued cleaning the water mess in our living room. Some of my books were ruined, and some of the kid's toys were all wet. It was overall, a massive chaos I didn't want my wife to witness. And yet, I knew keeping it from her was way worse.

- "Hey honey. How are things going back home?"- (Y/N)'s sweet voice on the other side of the line made me relax my shoulder muscles immediately, almost in relief.

- "It's..."- I looked around and sighed- "It's bad."

- "How bad?"

- "Andrea, the caretaker, quit as soon as I got here."

- "At least she waited for you to get there."- my wife whispered, trying to make me smile, I think.

- "She was the third to leave us in a week."

- "We just haven't found the right one."

- "Stop being so positive, please."

- "What do you want me to say, honey? "Take your mom back to Hustoun?" No way! We are doing all we can to help her! We knew this wasn't going to be easy, and she is just settling in."- my wife paused and sighed.- "Shit, JJ heard me."

- "Where are you?"

- "On the jet. We are going to Tampa."

- "Oh shit, we've got a case."- I rubbed my hand against my face, thinking I was failing the team and my family at the same time.

- "We do."

- "Ok, can I be on speaker during the briefing?"

- "Turn on the computer, I'll have you patch in on video call with Garcia."

- "Thank you, ma cherie."

- "I miss you."- she whispered and my lips curled up in a tiny smile as soon as I heard her.

- "Me more."- I replied in a lower voice and took a deep breath.

- "Me most. But right now, by the way, JJ is looking at me, I'm guessing I have to explain to the team what is going on back home."

- "Ok chipmunk. I'll be here, waiting for the briefing. Love you."

- "Love you too. Take good care of Diana."

As soon as I picked down the phone, the anxiety kicked in again. That whole day, my entire body didn't seem to relax. I was on edge. My mother stepped from one emotion to another. Each time I talked to her, I didn't know who I was going to deal with. Before I took the call from work for the briefing, she reappeared in the living room and apologized for making that mess.

- "Your books are ruined. And the kid's toys too.."

- "It's ok."

- "No it's not. That's not the grandma I wanted to be for them." - she sighed, holding Raven's soaking teddy in her hands. It broke my heart 'cause I knew she hadn't done it on purpose.

- "You want to maybe lie down for a little while and get some rest?

- "Yes, that's a good idea, honey. I need rest."

But an hour later, when she came back from her nap she was absolutely lost and angry. She didn't recognize her own scrapbook. The one she started in high school. Her eyes were fearful and angry, and her hands kept shaking. She knew who I was, but didn't trust me completely. It was so painful I did the only thing I could think of.

- "It's time for your medicine."- and by medicine, I meant the experimental drugs I had gotten in Mexico behind my wife's back from a doctor I met in Houston, named Nadine Ramos.

- "No. No. It tastes terrible. What if it's poison?"- Mom started arguing right away, and I had to hold both her hands to try to calm her down.

- "Mom, it's not poison. Remember when you first started taking it in Texas? It helped. You felt so good that we were able to go on that trip to San Antonio."- she just stared at me, with a blank expression on her face. I used my softest voice, to try and help her calm down.- "It's not poison. Just wait right here."- I added and walked quickly to my and (Y/N)'s room. I had hidden the bottles in a sock in my drawer, which was clearly a sign I was doing something wrong by keeping it a secret. I added three drops to a glass of orange juice and gave it to her. Mom just stared at me, suspicious. Like I would poison her.

- "Are you going to stand there and watch me?"- she asked seriously

- "Yes."- I replied and smiled at her, 'cos there was a part of it all that was funny. My grown-up mother acted exactly like my four-year-old daughter would. She drank the whole glass, looking disgusted by it, and then opened her mouth to show me she had swallowed it all.

- "You don't have to do that."- I almost chuckled as she did, but then, she broke my heart.

- "Of course I do. I have to do whatever you want."- and just like that, she locked herself in her room again.

While she was away working on a case, (Y/N) called the agency and managed to get another caretaker to come home for an interview with me for the position. Of course, my mother was a complete disaster around her, threw a tantrum and left, slamming the door behind her back as she left me talking on my own.

Luckily, nurse Cassie Cambel was an angel, and decided to take the position and help us with my mother despite the awful first impression mom made. She was aware of how challenging things were and didn't hesitate. She even said she would get someone to take the night shifts. She gave me hope. I called my wife as soon as she was gone and gave her the good news. Then worked the case for a while and talked to the team, because no matter what was happening at home, we were still trying to catch a serial killer.

And it was all good for a good hour until I realized there was something odd going on, Mom had been quiet for too long. That's always a bad sign with the kids, and I figured it was also a bad sign with my mother.

When I finally found her, locked in our ensuite bathroom, she was throwing the medicine I had struggled to get in Mexico for her.

- "Mom, don't do that! Don't do that! Stop that!"- I nearly jumped and tried to take the bottles from her hands, but the liquid was mostly gone.

- "Leave me alone! Stop, stop! Give it back to me! Ohh!"- Mom was yelling and fighting as if her life was in danger. I fought to stop her, but it was useless. We ended up fighting for them on the bathroom floor. I didn't want to hurt her, but she kept holding onto those glass bottles and screaming. She finally gave up but stood up and ran to the door, trying to escape our apartment. I followed her and stopped her by the door. I grabbed her waist and then her wrist, trying to make some sense of what was happening.

- "Mom! Why did you do that? Why?!"

- "I hate that stuff! And I hate you!"- she yelled with so much anger that if I didn't know how sick she was, I would have been brokenhearted.

- "Do you have any idea what I went through to get that medicine, Mom?"- I yelled at her with the same amount of anger for a second, but I did my best to gather myself and try to talk to her in a softer tone. - "It can't be replaced. Do you realize that?"

- "Good! I want to go back home!"- she yelled as tears of desperation started falling from her eyes

- "This is home!"

- "No, it isn't! I want to go back to where I was before!"- she pleaded, like a little girl

- "You said you hated Houston!"- I screamed, frustrated by the entire conversation.

- "No, I want to go back to where I was before before! Before!"- she let go of my hands aggressively and slapped me right on the cheek. She stared at me with such anger, that I knew she wasn't herself. Still, it hurt. She raised her hand to hit me again and I stayed still, not arguing, not fighting back. Leaving my cheek right there, so she could hit me one more time, and all the times she'd like.

Some things never change. Especially the bad ones, I guess. When I was a kid, I had grown used to her episodes. How she sometimes hurt me. I knew she didn't mean to, so I never held any hard feelings against her. But it was a painful flashback of my childhood. One I didn't want my kids to grow up with.

During our fight, I managed to save one tiny bottle of medicine. One wasn't going to help much, which meant I had to get more. I didn't know if that medicine was actually helping her. I didn't know what could. The fact was, I was desperate and I would have done anything to help bring my mother back to herself.

If that had happened a few years earlier, when I was still single, still living on my own, I would have flown to Mexico in the blink of an eye, no questions asked. But at that moment, "anything" had some limits. And those limits came with my wife and my two kids. I had to think carefully about what I was going to do next. 'Cos I couldn't hurt them.

My phone buzzed on the table and I sighed. We were still working on a case, and I had to focus. But I was wronged. It wasn't case-related. It was JJ.

- "I'm here whenever you need someone to talk to."- I read those words and replied "Thank you" text and stared at her words on the screen for a little while. I knew things hadn't been easy in the last few years, but it felt so good to have a friend like JJ and a family in the BAU. At least we weren't alone. I knew my wife was with them and they were going to support and comfort her. Us. They got our backs.

- "Well, that was just what I needed."- my mother's voice took me from my thoughts. She walked out of the hall and smiled at me. I looked at her, confused from the dining room table, where I was trying to get some work done.

- "Uhmm..."

- "My nap. It really did the trick."- she explained and gasped, standing next to a couch. - "Oh, my goodness. My scrapbook. Oh, I've been keeping this since I don't know when. I have no idea how it got here.

I just stared at her in silence. She seemed to be herself. She knew who I was, and where she was and even got excited to see her old scrapbook. Was it the medicine? Was it the nap? What made that change?

- "Ohh, honey. What did you do to your face? It's all red."- and she had no recall of what had happened

- "Probably bumped into something."- I used the same old excuse I always used when she noticed any bruises on me growing up.

- "Oh, you need to be more careful. It's really awful."- she carefully touched my face as she sweetly smiled, and stood in front of me, holding her scrapbook close.

- "I will."- I whispered

- "You know, you always were so clumsy. Smart as a whip. But I used to call you Crash. You were always bumping into things."- mom told me the story of how I hid how much she hurt me from her, and walked to the closest couch. I stared at her, trying to understand why this was happening to her, and how I could stop it. What was the use of being so smart if I couldn't help my own mother?

- "Honey, what is this?"- she asked after a few minutes in silence.

- "Oh, it's a ticket stub."- I said as I sat next to her on the sofa arm

- "What is that?"

- "A ticket stub? When you go to a concert or a movie you get a ticket so they'll let you in. (Y/N) has a large collection with all the ticket stubs of the shows she has been to."

- "Maybe I could help her make a scrapbook with those."- Mom suggested and smiled at me- "She is so sweet, letting me stay here with you and the kids."

- "I'm sure she'd like that."- I replied and kissed the top of her head. She turned the page and kept staring at her memories.

- "You saw Elvis in concert?"- I asked her, surprised. That sounded like a good story I had never heard.

- "I don't know. I did many things when I was young."- she simply replied. - "Who is he?"

- "Elvis Presley."- I explained, disappointed that her memory was failing again. - "He's a very famous rock and roll singer."- all her memories were fading and I couldn't stop it even if I tried. What a failure of a genius son.

- "Ah! Oh, my gosh!"- she got incredibly excited all of a sudden and pointed at the cutting of a tightrope walker with something glued to it. - "I'd almost forgotten about this!"

- "What is that?"- her excitement made me smile, I hadn't seen my mother that happy the entire day.

- "When you were a little boy, I took you to the circus, and after that, all you could talk about was that you wanted to be a tightrope walker when you grew up."- that story didn't ring any bell in my head.

- "I thought I wanted to be a magician."

- "You did. That was later. This was first."

- "Really? I don't remember that at all."- was she making it up? Was it real? I wanted to think she knew exactly what she was talking about.

- "Oh, no wonder. You were no more than 3 or 4!"

- "What's on its head?"- I asked her, pointing at the scrap. And she just laughed.

- "It's you!"

- "That's me?"- I moved to take a closer look, and yes, it was a tiny picture of me, glued to the clipping.

- "Yes. You glued that on there yourself."

- "Why did I do that?"

- "Well, here."- Mom grabbed my hand and showed me my wrist. - "See this little scar right there on your wrist? That's from when you fell when you were trying to balance on our backyard fence. You were so determined to make it the whole way. And I'll never forget looking out the kitchen window, watching you out there as you were trying to make a balancing pole from a broomstick. Calculating how long it should be and making adjustments. My little budding genius."

Mom caressed my arm as she told me that story, and it warmed my heart hearing her telling it in so much detail as she could actually see me. And the fact she had said the words "I'll never forget" as if it was some kind of promise. Like she could decide which memories she could keep and which ones to let go.

- "Did I ever make it?"- I asked her, I needed to know more about that story.

- "No. And you were heartbroken. You see, the problem was, you were so smart, you were so brilliant, you really believed that you could solve anything if you just put your brain into it. But that tightrope... No, you just couldn't figure that out. But you were meant for bigger things, Spencer. Now, how do you tell that to a 4-year-old boy?"

How could I tell that to my 35-year-old self? There are things I can't figure out, no matter how smart. Maybe I should have made my peace with that thought earlier.

Later that night, I brought my mom a cup of tea when she was already in bed. And she didn't know who I was. I didn't know how I was going to do it. Help her and keep my own mental sanity in the process. How much should I tell my wife? She was going to find out anyway, no questions asked. I shouldn't keep her in the dark, life had shown me that had always been the wrong path to follow.

I don't know what time it was when I felt (Y/N)'s hand on my arm. I had fallen asleep on a rocking chair close to the bed and had tied one end of a scarf on mom's wrist and the other to mine, so I would know if she moved. My wife smiled at me and leaned in to kiss my cheek.

- "Welcome home."- I whispered and caressed her cheek. - "I missed you."

- "Me too, hon..."- she hummed and kissed me one more time. - "Wanna have a cup of tea and tell me about your day?"

- "Why don't you get some rest first? You are just getting home..."- I whispered and untied the scarf from my wrist to walk her out of the room. - "Where are the kids?"

- "I asked my mom to take care of them for the night. I was coming late and I didn't want to take them out in the middle of the night."

- "That was a good choice."

- "So, how was your day? And be honest."- my wife stood in front of me and I just sighed.

- "It was... challenging."

- "You can give me the real version, Spencer Walter Reid, I can take it."- (Y/N) raised an eyebrow as she stood in front of me, in the middle of the hall. I tried to find the right words to explain to my wife about my day. But as soon as I opened my mouth to speak, I broke down into tears and fell into her arms.

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#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #criminal minds #babymetaldoll writes #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #criminal mind fix it #Spencer Reid needs a hug

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the-pen-pot · 3 days ago

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Have u ever thought about Arthur time travelling instead of Merlin?

Not one with just Arthur, no. Hiraeth almost entirely scratched my time travel itch. That said, I'm actually writing (slowly but enthusiastically) one called "What We Might Be where they both end up back at the start with all their memories intact. It's a huge amout of fun!

It's basically about how this time they work together and maybe find that golden age (and do it a lot sooner!) It's posting on my patreon very slowly right now, but you can read the first chapter here (warning for angst)

Here's the synopsis from my fic ideas page below the cut to spare you all!

I made this post on Tumblr and it did numbers (I was thinking 4 people would "hell yes" me, not 2000)

"Not me sitting here thinking about writing a fic where we start with Arthur dying in Merlin's arms after Camlaan and it's all tragedy and then the magic rises and they both end up back at that first day, in the marketplace, Merlin with "How long have you been training to be a prat, my lord?" dying on his lips as they stare at each other, fascinated, horrified, so fucking relieved because they both remember ALL of it and none of it's happened yet and this time they can maybe make it to a different, better ending.

And they can do it together."

BUT TO EXPAND

I want to explore how Arthur and Merlin would interact with each other having lived in one another's pockets for ten years, only to be sent right back to the beginning while retaining everything they are to each other. Merlin's magic newly revealed from the confession by the lakeside. The two of them standing there with every mistake in their future rather than their past and realising that maybe "two sides of the same coin" means "you need to work together, dumbass".

I want the two of them shocked by how young the other is. How different Camelot seems from what they're used to. How harsh Uther looks now that they know it can be different (though not as different as it should be, Arthur realises.) I want them correcting their mistakes (and each other's mistakes) and taking all that they know of each other and rebuilding their relationship (all their relationships, actually) on that honesty.

And the others don't remember. Morgana is still Morgana, still struggling but still hoping to be saved. Mordred's just a boy. Lancelot never sacrificed himself and it's so clear in Arthur's eyes that Gwen loved them both but that she loved Lancelot first and best with all her heart.

The knights end up at Camelot earlier simply because Arthur and Merlin set out to find them earlier.

("We need Gwaine." "Do we? Really?" "Yes, you great prat. Come on.")

And so much more.

#Merlin #Merthur #My Fanfic

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cantwritethetword · 2 days ago

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(2024) TickleTober Day 26: Kisses - Spoilers

Fic Descript - Nowhere in their diaries does it mention at what point River finds out the Doctor is ticklish. Unfortunately for him, he assumes she already knows.

~A/N - Once again, blame @carrie-tate for my Doctor Who resurgence (like look at this and tell me it doesn't fill your heart with joy)

And you can also blame her for a specific line in this fic that she created (and tagged me in which was super cool sdfjkhasfjklh) cause it's GENIUS

Not a super long fic but I actually really love the entire concept for this one hehe, so I hope you all do too.

- Enoy! ~

Tag List: @fullsongphilosopher

Masterpost Link

TickleTober Masterpost

"Running off again?" River called out, as The Doctor pushed open the door to his TARDIS.

The Doctor turned to lean against the doorframe, flashing her a small grin. "Thought you'd expect that by now, you know me."

"I do." She smiled, moving closer so they were mere inches apart. "More than you think."

River pressed a kiss just under the side his jaw, expecting nothing more than a smirk in response before her partner would whisk himself away in his incredible blue box.

But her prediction couldn't have been further from reality, as The Doctor giggled and scrunched his shoulder up between them - making her half-jump away in surprise. River gave him a innocently puzzled look, smiling slightly in endearment at the noise he had made.

"Shut up." He blushed, refusing to meet her gaze.

River laughed, moving herself into his field of vision. "What was that?"

With a groan, The Doctor's face flushed further. "You know what that was!"

River paused, genuinely trying to come up with some recollection of what the last few seconds could possibly have been caused by. "I don't-."

"Oh-... Um- In that case-" The Doctor began to backpedal, but his reaction was only quick enough to realise his incorrect assumption had just landed him in deep trouble.

"Wait..." River smirked, catching on at the perfect time to put 2 and 2 together. "Are you ticklish?"

There it was.

The Doctor broke into a rare, nervous smile. "Uh... No...?" He stated with an unconvincingly low level of confidence.

"Is that so?" She smirked.

"Um-"

"Remind me, what's the first rule of travelling with The Doctor?" River asked innocently, sliding her hand around his torso and casually poising her fingers against each of his lower ribs.

"River!" He squeaked, his hands fumbling over themselves. "I'm not-! You don't-! It's not-!"

River closed what little distance remained between their faces, so once again her lips brushed against his neck. "The Doctor lies."

His shoulders scrunched up, though this time The Doctor put far more effort into resisting any hint of a smile spreading across his face - he was practically vibrating with effort. River slowly traced her fingers over his ribs, relishing in every jump and reluctant snicker that managed to sneak through the cracks in the Doctor's resolve.

"What a rare sight..." She teased, beginning to softly claw her hands over his sides. "The Doctor, left speechless... I never thought I'd see the day."

"RIVER!" He yelped, twisting away from her.

Unfortunately for him, that only led to River wrapping her arms around his waist and fluttering her fingers over his stomach.

Every time her hands touched down it seemed worse than the last time, and so it didn't take long for the Doctor to burst into helpless giggles. It was like she naturally gravitated to each of the most ticklish areas on his body, hitting each spot like clockwork and tearing the poor Time Lord apart.

"Still sure you're not ticklish?" She half-shouted above his laughter.

When he didn't respond, she decided to move her hands down to latch onto his hips.

"NO RIHIVER YOU KNOHOW I CAHAN'T!" He cackled, desperately trying to push her hands off of him.

"What, have we done this before?" She chuckled as her fingers drilled into the sensitive bones.

"SHUHUT UHUP!" The doctor cackled, trying to twist out of her arms.

"Oh Sweetie," She cooed sympathetically, hooking under his arms and moving her fingers up to twirl around his neck and ears. "Does it tickle?"

He curled his shoulders up with a giggle, sinking into her embrace. Although it still tickled like hell, he appreciated the break from his far more ticklish upper body, and at this point was too tired to fight back.

Thankfully, River also seemed to sense his complete exhaustion, and so it didn't take long for her to finally let him free. They both sunk to the floor, with The Doctor lying exhausted in her lap.

"There's no way that was your first time." The Doctor panted, a smile still stuck on his face.

River laughed gently. "And why's that?"

He shot her a glare. "You figured out I was ticklish ridiculously quickly, and then you knew exactly where to tickle me every single time."

She shrugged, but couldn't help the grin sneaking onto her face. "Maybe you're just easy to read."

He rolled his eyes and sat up. "Did you know I was ticklish or not?"

River grinned. "Spoilers."

#crow's tickle fic #ticklecrowber2024 #crowstickletober2024 #tickletober2024 #ticklecrowber #tickletober

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madschiavelique · 2 days ago

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Hi! So, modding has ruined me and as such I’d like to request the Origin Companions with a Lich Tav / S/O? Like, they did the whole process a while ago and only now with the Tadpole Sitch have they returned from death and have no idea what they’re doing and are far weaker than they expected. Maybe they show the companion a sign of “I love and trust you” by allowing them to (gently) hold their phylactery? Idk, fill how you see fit if you want :]

hi anon!! sorry it took so long but i wanted to make a bit of research for it to be accurate. i hope you'll like it!!

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ characters : shadowheart, astarion, gale, lae'zel, wyll, karlach

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ content warning : a bit of angst, but some comfort

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ words : 1.4k (250~ per characters)

( not proofread, english is not my first language ☆)

─ ‧ shadowheart :

at a first glance, you amazed her as much as terrified her. but it was mostly a terrified respect. because being a lich, aka an undead sorcerer who seeks to transcend death itself is in clear opposition to the cycle of life and death, which is a central theme of most faiths including Shar’s.

she swore you must have followed Shar herself though as, per her words, “the darkness that precedes you would make a fierce soldier in her eyes.”

chances are that Shadowheart will have to put some parts of her faith in question for you, but on the other hand she could simply see your powers as a sort of extension of Shar’s influence.

as time goes by however, she realises a lot of prejudices held against lichs such as being cold and goal driven can be wrong, especially when it comes about you.

she’d be very much interested in hearing you talk about the process of becoming a lich. she admires your patience and devotion so much, a person as old and wise as you has seen more than she ever will and she craves to know more about your life, before becoming a lich and during it.

if you ever allowed her to hold your phylactery, she would never doubt your sincerity ever again. she knows how much this act means for her, for you, for your relationship, and she would not forget it nor lower it for anything in Faerun.

─ ‧ astarion :

when astarion learns about you being a lich at the very beginning of your adventure, it is certain that you and him would bicker about your age.

“how old are you? i didn’t know mummies could have such deplorable fashion styles, but how could it be otherwise considering you’re older than most of Gale’s books“ he said, to which you’d answer “it pains me that i have lived long enough to see idiots like you being born.”

it’s really just a game of bickering at the beginning, especially when you underlined that most liches are more powerful than vampires.

this however brought a spark to him, because if you were indeed more powerful than most vampires, then you would be of great utility in helping him go against his master.

over time of you gaining back your powers and abilities, he found something absolutely breathtaking in your darkness, your devotion, your ambition to outlive anything in your path.

he would see an opportunity to live in eternity by your sides. all other mortals perish eventually, and the knowledge of having you by his sides for all eternity makes him impossibly happy.

you offering him to hold your phylactery would mean the world to him, because he knew that if he had such a thing, he would have gave it to you. it’s an incomparable proof of your trust for him, no one had ever allowed him such an honour and you can be sure he will value it greatly.

─ ‧ gale :

this man is a scholar, and it would be lying to say that apart from being frightened and pretty much offended that you are here, he is extremely curious.

he obviously has a deep fascination of magic, particularly the forbidden type, and you are a literal gift from the skies to be in his path.

ethical boundaries aside, i don’t think he will be able to shut up.

you will be bombarded by all types of questions about the whole entire process of becoming a lich, from your years to learning about the Arcane arts to the gathering the rare and powerful components needed for the creation of your phylactery.

He will not let you rest, he needs answers he’s been pondering on for so long and you’re here with all the answers.

This however raises for him the question of morality and mortality, unless he takes the path of moving from Evocation to Necromancy, in which case one could say he found the perfect pair.

Having gale as your s/o while being a lich is something you didn’t expect, in the sense that being with gale made you feel understood and seen.

If you allow gale to touch your phylactery, he would jump to the ceiling. He would hold it gently and ask about each and every part of it, asking how you got the components, how you assembled it all and how it felt once you had completed the entire process. But most of all, he is extremely aware of what it means and how much of a token of trust and respect it is for you to allow him to handle such a precious object.

─ ‧ lae'zel :

Lae’zel’s first approach would most definitely be one of suspicion. Githyankis and their traditions consider others as weak or unnatural, especially those who use necromancy. Chances are her first thoughts about you gravitate around repulsion, since you alone represent a source of power that is so dishonorable.

She would take quite the time to let herself trust you. There is one thing she cannot deny about you that changes during your adventure : you’re powerful, very powerful. When you start gaining back some of your powers and offer proper almost overwhelming force of will, you’ve owned lae’zel’s respect (no matter of grudgingly she acknowledges you as a worthy potential partner).

Plus, your immortality is an asset in battle that cannot be circumvented.

In the end, your strong senses of battle and unrelenting determination won her.

When you allowed her to handle your phylactery, she was confused as to what such an artefact was. But when you explained to her that your very remains of life and mortality were in that very object, her heart leaped in her chest. For you to offer your life and allow her to have it in her own hands proved to her that you were more trustworthy than any other allies and lovers.

─ ‧ wyll :

His original reaction to your situation would be disbelief. He’d only ever heard of Lichs in storybooks or tails one would mysteriously count in a tavern. But a real one, in the flesh ? that was a first for him.

The concept of necromancy alone is not one Wyll appreciates much. It defies moralities and mortality to bring back from the dead. He’s worked hard to defeat enemies in the past that used such methods to build armies and soulless soldiers, and he is frightened of having feelings for you when these questions pull to the front of his mind.

But his sense of forgiveness would take over. Along the road to Baldur’s Gate, during your many adventures, he saw how your dedication to getting the team out of a deadly situation was pure and true.

It’s hard for him to deconstruct so many beliefs he’s had on necromancy and lichs in general, but he’s willing to do it for you. He does fear that it will be an imbalance relationship, but he wants to try.

But this thought vanishes from his mind when you allow him to touch your phylactery. He’s heard of such artefacts, of what they hold within, and it undoubtedly makes his heart stammer. He’ll never ever doubt of your love for him, that is for certain.

─ ‧ karlach :

Karlach’s first impression of her s/o being a Lich would not be positive, since being a lich represents the concept of immortality at the cost of the soul, and it could be something she finds repulsive.

Because you had the choice to abandon your mortality, your life, and you took it while she never had a choice on her own mortality.

But when you started travelling together, fighting together, living together, she didn’t find you so bad after all. It felt like you were just one of them, just a person with ambitions and goals.

She realised the lengths at which you were ready to go for your companions, and it owned her trust and admiration.

And when you kept finding infernal iron and stopped anything you were all doing just to go see Dammon as soon as you could to get her heart fixed, she knew she could trust you and appreciate you.

She has her own fears of being with you though, the fatality of her own heart failing her in opposition to your eternity frightened her beyond belief. What will happen if she dies and you go on without her ? She is very much tormented about this question.

But she loves you, and she knows you love her.

When you allow her to touch your phylactery, she would crumble in tears as if you’re offering her a wedding ring. If she could take out her mechanical heart from her chest and give it to you without dying the same way you give her the last piece of life you own in this world, she would.

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splendsay · 2 days ago

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COD FF // Callsign: Sunshine // Ch. 44: Just a .22

WE'RE IN BOSTON FOLKS THIS IS NOT A DRILL

..................................................................

Callsign: Sunshine // Chapter 44: Just a .22

Rating: 18+ !!MDNI!! Chapters: 44/? WC: 118,410 Pairing(s): TF141 x F!Reader (You) Chapter Warnings: Explicit language, suggestive content Chapter Excerpt (🚨spoilers!!🚨):

"Fuck you," you seethe through clenched teeth.

Your upper thigh is clamped between both hands. Blood dribbles down your fingers, the makeshift tourniquet Simon made from the hem of someone's shirt not quite enough to stem it. Ricky is digging around in the hole near your knee -- parting skin and sinew with a surprisingly surgical pair of tongs to root out the bullet currently lodged somewhere close to the bone.

The only reason you haven't ripped the skin off his smarmy mustachioed face is because you're a little tipsy. And restrained by the arms of Soap, whose lap you're in.

"Don't be so dramatic, darlin', it's only a .22," Ricky chides.

"How could you possibly fucking know that?"

"Got an eye for 'em'."

"Course you do."

Even through the liquored haze, it still feels like a fire is ravaging your entire leg. The pain of the gunshot itself is sharp. Throbbing. But the attempt to remove the bullet has truly been a grueling test of your ever-fluctuating willpower.

"How's about I carve your eyes out with my bare hands and make you eat them, you f--."

Ricky lets out a hearty guffaw, cutting you off.

You don't mean it, though the thought does bring a small amount of joy to your otherwise pain-addled brain. In the short time he's been stabbing you thoroughly and repeatedly, you've learned that batshit threats of violence usually make him laugh. And making him laugh is a nice distraction.

Not a very effective one.

But it's better than nothing.

"Take another shot o' moonshine," Ricky instructs, gesturing to the flask beside his foot.

Moonshine doesn't remotely begin to describe the heat of Ricky's horse piss liquor. You'd told him as much after your first swig.

"You should call this shit Sunburn," you'd sputtered. He'd laughed at that too.

It's the only medication you're going to get, but you're not sure getting hammered is going to make this experience any better.

"No, thank you."

"Suit yourself, darlin'."

Soap idly traces his thumbs along your biceps. Another nice distraction. Together, you sit in the first row of first class on an American Airlines passenger jet. An Airbus. Ancient, but still moving.

Turns out Cap's friends are looters of a grand sort. Grand larceny, to be specific. Slim's defense when pressed was that nobody else was fuckin' usin' it. Without Cap conscious to otherwise vouch for her, you'd had no choice but to take her word for it.

Cap himself is in Slim's hands, which the siblings -- you think they're siblings -- all four of them: Slim, Ricky, and the other two pilots, Junior and Rabbit -- insist is a good thing. She's got him somewhere behind the curtain separating first class from the rest of the plane. You've asked about him a dozen times. At least. They've assured you each time that Slim was a trained combat medic. Has seen a head injury or two in her time. Nimble fingers and whatnot.

But you can only think of Alex. Alex and his weeks' long coma. Alex who hasn't ever quite been the same, though you suppose you never truly knew him before his injury. He's been stoic. Quiet since you got on the plane. Resting against Farah's shoulder just across the aisle from you.

Simon is on your other side, in the window seat, holding your hand. Well, really, you're holding his. Squeezing the shit out of it. The tips of his fingers are white.

Gaz, Gary, and the Los Vaqueros boys are behind you, silent enough to suggest they've all fallen asleep.

Ricky's hand slips, sending his tongs deeper than they ought to be. You howl in outrage, thrashing in your seat, almost kicking him in the chin, but Soap quickly detains you -- with an arm banded across your chest and a low murmur in your ear.

"Be still, love."

You hiss at him. "Fuck you too."

He chuckles, which sends a flare of defiance through your skull -- a shock of red on the edge of your vision. You buck against him, wriggling your hips, trying to set yourself free of his grip. But it only tightens.

"You don't mean that," he croons.

"Maybe I do."

"Careful, Ace."

The heat behind his warning softens your ire instantly. "Don't 'careful Ace' me," you lecture -- but there's no tooth to it. Not as you become very aware of his breath, hot on the back of your neck. One of his hands drops from your arm down to your waist.

Some of the pain eddies away. Dulls. Like someone threw a blanket over it. More effective than Ricky's toilet liquor, anyway.

Your eyes slide to Simon's, whose twinkle with something mischievous. Something dark and husky and deviant. The ever-present thread between you tightens -- though, now there's more of it. Another branch. A third anchor.

Everything is taught.

"Ace..." Soap murmurs, following your gaze.

You shift your hips again. Just a little. He stiffens beneath you. Releases a huff of air, blowing your some of your hair into your face.

"Be still, woman," Ricky scolds.

"Eat me, asshole." Your voice is soft. Throaty. You couldn't be more transparent if you tried.

"Just fuckin' relax."

"I am relaxed."

"Then stop movin'."

You can't.

You feel feral. You need to get up and walk around, if you only could. You need to run a hundred laps around the plane. Shed your skin. Get out of Soap's lap and into -- something else.

Soap plants a gentle kiss on your shoulder and a shiver skates down your spine.

"Johnny," you hiss. "Knock it off."

"I'm distracting you."

You let out a quiet groan -- a mix of chagrin and desire -- hardly audible. But Soap hears it, the growing firmness in his lap a delicious confirmation.

But another sharp throb of pain in your thigh dumps a bucket of ice water over your head, involuntarily sending your foot forward into Ricky a second time.

"Oof, hey now, I've almost got it," he scolds, dodging you.

"Fuck off, Ricky."

"Foul mouth."

"Bite me."

"Just -- think happy thoughts or somethin'."

"Happy thoughts? Really?"

"I dunno, have your other boyfriend whisper sweet nothings in your ear, since the one ain't enough."

Simon and Soap both go still. You blink at him, incredulous. Indignant.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?"

"Loaded question."

You snort. "Confidence inspiring."

"I ain't one to judge, don't you worry."

"That's not what I meant."

"Well don't worry 'bout this neither," he gestures to your leg with his free hand. "I know what I'm doin'."

His words don't quite match his physicality. His brow is coated in sweat -- the headlamp he's using to see what he's doing sliding down a little as each minute passes.

Not exactly soothing to the nerves.

You miss Doc.

..................................................................... Links to: Spotify Playlist Full Fic

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purpleshimmer · 2 days ago

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Yeah I agree with most of this; I have almost 0 complaints about s1 but it was very weird that she completely forgot about ekko and buddied up with piltover so quickly after years of being abused by enforcers in prison. However, I felt like s1 did a decent job of letting us inside her head and kind of explaining where she was coming from (Caitlyn and Ekko's conversation at the tree comes to mind, when Caitlyn said "You'd be well within your rights to keep it. I couldn't blame you. But... if you do, this cycle of violence will never stop." Vi probably views Jinx's actions as needlessly violent and reckless, + she's with Silco, who Vi hates for obvious reasons. This is just a personal thought, but Caitlyn was the first person in 7 years to show her any kindness, so I feel like it makes sense that Vi would kind of go along with her agenda. Then again, Vi is a very independent + headstrong person, so idk

About Jinx siding with Piltover, I also thought it was really weird at first but after thinking about it for a bit I can almost justify it from a story writing point of view? I don't really know how they could have the sisters reconcile with each other in the end if they didn't both end up on the same side, and we know from League of Legends that Vi works with the enforcers, so I feel like a Piltover collab was inevitable.

From a character perspective, I think that Jinx, like you said, is very selfishly motivated. She may have agreed with Silco more than Vander, but we also have to keep in mind that Silco implanted his ideas in her head from a young age.

Now that Jinx has no one to tell her what to do and what to believe (which we know worries her from her monologue at the beginning of s2e2), she has no one to direct her. She has to form her own viewpoints, which she seems to struggle with so far. She doesn't appear to care too much about the Jinxers who are protesting Noxus and Piltover's rule, as we see her brush off Sevika when she tells Jinx to attend the rally at Vander's statue. She only breaks them out of jail because Isha is there, and Isha is like her little sister now. Like you said in your post, Jinx is working for Silco because loves him, not (at least not in my view, I could be totally wrong though lol) because she necessarily agrees with all his politics.

All this to say, her joining Piltover in the fight against Noxus is probably not going to be because she cares a lot about the politics and moral questions involved in the war, but because Vi wants her to and she still desperately loves her sister (and probably to avenge Isha's death, since Noxious is the reason the fighting in the hexcore village broke out).

Arcane and Ideological Clashes

Tags by @coolseabird

I'm glad I'm not the only one who feels this way. One of season 1's themes I loved was the philosophical and ideological debate between Silco and Vander (and then Jinx and Vi). I adore the personal character-driven aspects too, but the thing is, they don't have to be mutually exclusive. Ideologies can be extremely personally informed/motivated, and in the case of these characters, they were. Every part of their worldviews were shaped by their circumstances, their lives, experiences, and relationships with other characters. For example, Silco surviving the murder attempt by Vander and how this very personal betrayal motivated him politically, to be unrelentingly extremist in his methods. Or Vander feeling personally guilty for all the deaths on the Day of Ash, leading to him forming a political deal with Grayson to subdue the undercity from ever stepping out of line "for their own good". Because when you live in these kinds of dire conditions, there really is no way to separate the personal from the political.

Though season 1 didn't explore these themes with the sisters as deeply as I would have liked, the crumbs were there! Especially for Jinx. Yeah, she's selfish and personally-motivated, but her actions are nonetheless political. When it comes to her political opinions, the first season itself only gave us crumbs ("We kicked the enforcers butts, imagine what the whole of the Lanes could do!" as a kid, and then later Silco tells her that the children of Zaun deserve more and she seems to listen pensively, but never comments on it). Every act of political violence by her in the first season was given a personal motivation (she wants Silco to think she's strong, she wants to confront Caitvi on the bridge, she wants to avenge Silco). But writers comments outside the show gave us more - one of them said online that while Jinx understands Vander, she disagrees with his worldview and aligns with Silco's views on fighting topside. So that confirmed that Jinx does have an ideology and it aligns with Silco's, even if she was mostly preoccupied with personal matters in S1.

Vi on the other hand was completely neglected by season 1. All of her thought process and political opinions post Act 1 were left entirely subtextual. Act 3 was the worst offender because it's there that she makes her most controversial decisions (betraying Jinx to the Council and attacking the Shimmer factory with enforcers). However, again there were crumbs that one could string together to form interpretations. In S1E2, Vander basically convinces her that rebellion against topside is futile as it would likely lead to the deaths of her loved ones. She then decides to give up her desire to fight them and turns herself in to the enforcers. What follows is 7-8 years of being beaten and abused and downtrodden by topsiders in prison. Yeah, I can definitely see how this experience would only confirm Vander's words, that Piltover's might is too much to overcome, not without heavy casualties on their side. That rebellion is futile and the best thing to do is to keep your head down and don't invoke their wrath.

However, it was a fellow undercity citizen who murdered Vander and took her sister. And when she returns years later, she finds that he is still in power, has significant influence and a large number of followers in the Lanes, and no one has overthrown him. One line that really stood out to me was one she said to the brothel madam Babette in S1E5 - "From the looks of it no one down here lifted a finger to stop Silco". How juicy is that! She feels resentful towards her fellow Zaunites for not avenging Vander and taking down Silco in her absence. She feels betrayed, abandoned, left behind by her own neighbours. Her sister changed under Silco, her home changed under Silco. And everyone moved on without her. Expanding on this could have been such a natural way to justify her class treason by joining the enforcers. She thinks Piltover is too strong for Zaunites to beat so there's no use rebelling against them anyway. So why not use their might against her Zaunite enemies? Zaunites themselves "won't lift a finger" to stop violent gang leaders so why not use topside's power to do it? "What loyalty should I have to my class, if the people from my class abandoned me like this?" I could even see how being wronged by Zaunites could hurt more than being wronged by Piltovians - she could see it as the latter owing her nothing while the Zaunites are supposed to be her family and neighbours, who owe her more.

Again, season 1 itself did jack shit to delve into these feelings nor her trauma from prison. But the crumbs were there. I happily used them to form my own interpretation to justify her bizarre decisions and was satisfied. But then season 2 rolls around. They had the blueprint and chose not to use any of this rich material. How do they justify her joining the enforcers? Do they explore any of the complex feelings of resentment Vi may have for her home and class? Nope, she joins after hearing how her crush talked her up to colleagues. How do they justify her fully turning on Jinx and disowning her sister? Do they explore Vi's loyalty to her foster father Vander, and her acceptance that Jinx chose to betray him and side with his murderer, then try to murder Ekko for years? Nope. In fact, she forgets about Ekko and never mentions him again lmao. Rather she seems to turn on Jinx because she attacked the Council??? That seems to be the turning point for Vi, the thing that makes Vi view Jinx as a monster. "She killed the tyrants who oppressed me all my life, how dare she😤" ???? It would make sense for Vi to view the attack as stupid and reckless, again just like Vander said - fighting topside only brings more wrath to the undercity. But they don't even do that. They never explore Vi's political opinions and how she agrees with Vander's "compliance for our own good" stance. They never touch on her time in prison and how it may have compounded Vander's views. Instead they make it so Vi seems to sympathize with the Councilors and condemns Jinx's bombing because of some generic "violence bad" moral.

It's so stupid too, because they completely forget about Grayson. That's more PRIME material to justify Vi's enforcer arc. If Vander, her mentor, allied with Grayson, Caitlyn's mentor, then why shouldn't she ally with Caitlyn? She could easily use the Vander-Grayson peace deal to make herself feel better about her class treason. "He allied with enforcers to keep the undercity in check for their own good. So will I. Putting on the uniform is just the next logical step. I will take out the gang leaders and Silcos that Zaunites are too weak to stand up to. My parents were wrong to fight against topside, rebellion is futile. Jinx is wrong to fight against topside and will only get more Zaunites killed in the resulting retaliation. They can call me a traitor but I'm doing this for their own good."

All the pieces are there. Instead they never bring up the Vander-Grayson deal. Caitlyn and Vi have never even spoken about either of them in their entire relationship lmfaooo. They don't even know that their beloved mentors knew each other. They never speak about anything of substance. The only crumbs of an ideological clash we get in season 2 is the argument in S2E5. But it's all from Jinx's side - "I wish I was just seeing things when you decided to throw in with the Piltie goons who murdered mom and dad." But then Vi replies with some lame insult, then they're having a cheap slapstick comedy fight, and Vi never reckons with this. She never expresses what she thinks of her parents dying fighting topside. Then the Piltover vs Zaun war is completely abandoned and the plot focuses on Warwick/Hexcore/Noxus. And we don't get any more explorations of the ideological/philosophical clash that the sisters represent. Is it worth it to rebel against an oppressor if you lose yourself and all your loved ones to violence, but at least those in the future reap the benefits of your fight? Is it worth it to comply for the safety of yourself and your loved ones, if your people will eventually suffer a slow death and never have a future? What are you willing to sacrifice for your revolution? How far will you go? They handled this theme beautifully with season 1 Silco, then said "alright that's enough" and dropped all effort when it came to season 2. And from the trailers of Act 3, it looks like Vi will be convincing Jinx to fucking help Piltover against Noxus. Which is just gross lmao.

#hopefully that made sense #you always post bangers tumblr user thenationofzaun #I definitely think the writers were stuck trying to figure out how to make vi match up with her league version #and still have her be a likable character that isn't a complete traitor to her people #like what that one league Ekko voiceline says #arcane #arcane league of legends #caitlyn kiramman #league of legends #arcane season two #arcane spoilers #arcane season two spoilers #vi arcane #jinx arcane #silco arcane #vander arcane #arcane discussion #arcane analysis

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