#if you're NEW HERE. he's usually in bad enough health that he doesn't have a rly bad rut season. and only sheds/grows antlers on a like

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

Allure

Part One:Sunshine

❥MATZ x fem reader

Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa. The most known and feared alphas of the new generation. It took two dozen elder alphas to subdue them and stick them in the world's most secluded prison- hidden away in the mountains. The prison that sweet little omega (Y/n)'s works at.

Knuckle Velvet (Part Two)

Smoke (Part Three)

➯a/n: i've always wanted to write a story i would like to see as a movie or show, and i very much enjoy supernatural and dark romance, so i made this ! it does get very dark so please read the warnings and take care of yourself first and foremost. i am very proud of this, i hope you enjoy 💕

✃ "Because you're... alluring."

✫彡wordcount: 9.3k

♫"Hey, you should leave that young thing alone, ain't no sunshine when she's gone, only darkness everyday." - Flower Face (original by Bill Withers) ♫ Allure Sountrack

(>ᴗ•)♡´･ᴗ･`♡genre: smut, YANDERE, a/b/o au

ಠ_ಠWARNING/content: DEAD DOVE I MURDERED THAT BIH

chapter specific: literally what have i done, not beta read(ironically), criminal MATZ, alpha MATZ/omega reader, forget everything you know about werewolves, so much world building, extremely yandere behavior, talk of attempted child murder, class division of werewolves, panic attacks, vulgar language, mind control, lots of scent stuff, unhealthy relationships, ptsd, flashbacks and nightmares, physical violence, manipulation of others dreams, supporting character death, forced soul bonding, forced marking, reader implied to have mental health issues, murder, gore, violence- all that good stuff. THIS IS NOT A NON CON FIC ALL EVENTUAL SMUT WILL BE CONSENSUAL.

⁂perm taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg

⁂fic taglist: @potatomountain @spooo00oky

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

˚➶ ｡˚ PART ONE ˚➶ ｡˚

You hate weekdays. That much is true for a lot of people. You like to think your reasoning is especially valid.

Every Monday through Friday like clockwork, 6:30AM you walk into the prison. That on its own wasn't so bad. You lived only ten minutes away; the gothic building looked over your village in tandem with the mountains. You could see it when the weather was clear, even from your bedroom on the edge of town. You were no longer afraid of it like when you were a child.

You are, however, afraid of the newest prisoners.

New arrivals didn't usually rock you. This is the only prison in the country fit to hold lycans, after all. They all got transferred here eventually. From beta's who were just stealing to eat, to alphas who used their powers on humans, to those who believed in the old ways and fed on humans.

You had to interact with them all face to face.

You weren't excited for that particular aspect of your job this week.

You made your way through the double doors and greeted the security guard, your friend Hyolyn, as you went through the metal detector. It went off on account of the scent blocker that was embedded in your neck. She chuckled and switched it off so it stopped its incessant beeping.

"Don't laugh at me!" You threw a smile her way as you got your small purse from the plastic bucket she slid towards you. She doesn't bother to check your bag. She knows you well enough to know you wouldn't bring in any "fuck shit", as she would say. "You alpha's don't have to worry about accidentally spewing scent everywhere."

"Thank goodness for that, this place would stink to high heaven." Her unintentional reference to the new arrivals makes the air turn stiff. She could tell you were on edge immediately. "They aren't all that scary," she lays a comforting hand to your shoulder as you fiddle with the long strap on your crossbody bag.

"I heard one of them killed Alpha Greene... you think that's true? That guy was huge, I saw him at The Thing last year, I almost peed myself cause he looked at me-" You stop your own rambling, taking a deep breath and letting it out as a shaking sigh. "I don't want to go in there. Honestly, why can't we install a laundry chute or something, fuck."

"I'll follow you up, I c-"

"No, no, it's visiting day. You need to be down here. You know Chungha? Her daughter is visiting today. Don't want you to miss her." You offer a sad, tight lipped smile, but that doesn't trick her instincts to protect her weaker pack member. She knows you too well to be tricked.

"You just scream and I'll be there. Either of those cocky fucks lift a pinky in your direction and I'll gut them. They don't deserve to see a trial anyway."

A small exhale in the form of a chuckle lightens her protective instincts, she can tell you feel more at ease with her promise to be right there at the slightest hint of trouble.

"See you, Hyolyn."

"Later, babes."

You wave your fingers with a smile as the elevator doors slides shut. As soon as they clunk together, you let it fall and crouch with your head in your hands, taking in deep and slow breaths as you try and force all of the rumors you've heard about the two newest inmates away from your head.

The older alpha of the duo was the first born in this generation. They're always powerful. But he was born to two bloodthirsty rouges. Born in sin and blood lust.

The younger alpha was born just some months after, to an arranged marriage that was purposefully formed to make powerful children. They surely regret that now. Some say the man has the strongest, sharpest claws since the first lycan in Talbot Castle.

When the elevator dings, you're already upright and have that strong facade on that you put on when you're clocked in.

˚➶ ｡˚

You start with the familiar. "Hey, Chungha," you tap on the silver bars of her cell, "hand 'em over." She smiles as she stands, stripping the sheets from her cot and holding them through the bars for you. "Thank you," you draw on with a tug on your lips that matches hers.

"Yunnie in town?"

"Mhm," you hum as you fold the blanket before dropping it in the large basket on wheels, "she came over for stew, I made sure to feed her good and well, don't worry."

You know it was probably problematic, but you couldn't help it. Chungha came here three years ago on a charge for battery, and over those three years you became sort of friends with her.

The battered in her case was her grandfather. When her five year old daughter, Jiyun, started to show signs of being an omega- he left her in the snow to wither away. She managed to survive until her mother came home, and said mother was furious.

She was lucky she didn't charged with attempted manslaughter.

"She said she'll be here first thing."

"Thank you," she had a heavy pull on her voice. You don't have the emotional connection to other wolves like an alpha or beta did. But it was clear to anyone she was being sincere. "You're a good woman."

"Don't mention it, Yunnie is good company. Oh," you start to wheel the basket away when you remember something. You reach into the purse that you had set on the handles. "She made this at art class, asked me to give it to you so it didn't have to wait in processing."

It was a small, cruelly made ceramic bowl in the vague shape of a heart. It was clearly made by an eight year old, but made with love.

"I owe you."

"Just keep working on that parol work." You said lightly and blew a kiss as you moved to the next cell.

    The rest of your work nearly cleared your mind as you went from cell to cell, floor to floor. Omega's were on the second floor. Beta's on the third. Alphas on the fourth. High security on the fifth.

     It's on the fourth level that you begin to feel those nerves that you had just worked away. The scent was becoming stronger. They didn't put them on blockers? Maybe they didn't think it would be worth it. Everyone knew that they were the worst of the worst, they didn't even try to hide it. They would undoubtedly be put to death. Why waste two perfectly good, expensive, blockers?

     The basket of used sheets is nearly full, accumulating into a weight that makes you put your back into it as you push it into the elevator.

    Your index finger reaches out, and before you can stop yourself you've pressed the button to the fifth floor.

       You blank out until the door opens again. Your teeth are eternally grateful for the gum between them so they don't grind themselves into dust. The mint flavor does little to calm your nerves.

     The only thing that makes you come back to your own head is Changbin. He's a big, buff beta with a gun full of silver bullets on his work belt. He won't let them hurt you. His smile washes away a lot of the nerves.

    But the growl that rumbles against the walls makes them return ten, one hundred, one thousand fold. You don't dare say a word. A deer in headlights until Changbin places his hand on the small of your back. "Go on, don't give them the satisfaction of scaring you. They aren't going nowhere no time soon. Take a look."

     He motions you deeper into the hall, florescent lights buzzing above you, matching the jittering feeling in the deepest pit of your stomach. It smells too strong. Too much. You're about to fall to your knees from the weight and you haven't even come face to face with the near feral criminals.

    Changbin opens the doors at the end of the hall.

     They've definitely gone all out to keep them in place. Two large cages placed next to each other in the middle of the enormous room. Made of pure silver and wrapped in wolfsbane. The unpleasant smell of the plant makes your nose twitch. A ring of blood ash surrounds it. Only omegas can pass through blood ash, and now you start to realize why they sent you.

    You want to curse the warden, but the second you open your mouth, a loud cackle sounds out from one of the cages.

     Changbin's hand twitches at the gun attached to his side.

    "Oh wow," the smaller alpha chuckles, eyes closed, head tilted back, as he sniffs the air. "I didn't expect that." More manic giggles slip past his lips.

    You haven't even looked up to see them and you want to cave in on yourself.

    "What are you rambling about, huh?" The guard next to you shouts, making you flinch instinctively.

     "That sweet... sweet, smell," he moans. You can hear him shuffling. "From a peppy little spit fuck omega."

   You gasp abashedly, and now two laughs ring out. You want to wonder how they can smell you. Your insurance provides the best scent blocker in the country. But you're too scared to breathe, let alone think.

      "Shut up," Changbin groans, he can feel you tense next to him, "don't piss me off, Kim."

    "Awe," a new, rumbling voice makes you cower the second it reaches your ears, "this your mate? Hm, no... you wouldn't bring your mate here. You're not an idiot. Then, say... omega." You don't make a move to look when he addresses you, you stay looking at Changbins grip on his gun, silently.

     "Omega, come!" Your feet move for you, and that manic laugh almost makes you wet yourself as you realize that your wolf is making you move toward them without your consent. You stop just outside of the blood ash, where you know you're safe.

     "Changb-"

     "No. I'm the one you're speaking to."

   Changbin seems to be weighing his options, eyeing the men as they eye you.

    "Why are you here? You a shrink?"

    You shake your head.

   "You a lawyer?"

    Again.

   "She works here, dumbass, look at her scrubs," the younger speaks, and you nod subconsciously, to which he giggles, "what can we do for a pretty little thing like you?"

    When you refuse to speak, the guard does it for you. "She's here for your sheets today. Get used to her."

     You hated that this was your job, but it was easy and accessible, and available for omegas. Werewolves are clean freaks. Every day you had a different cleaning task, but you didn't complain. Not until right now- you wanted to rip out the throat of whoever's idea it was to not shoot these criminals on sight.

     "Ah," he hums, and you can feel his eyes raking your body. You can feel both of their eyes. "Not too bad of a sight to get used to. Huh, Hwa?"

     "Mh, that's right... can't wait to get my hands on her."

Your head snaps back to Changbin.

"Awn, she thinks he's gonna help her!" The high pitched giggles bounce around in your head. "Oh, little omega~"

The saccharine coo finally pulls your eyes to the men in the cages.

If you thought you knew what fear was before this moment, you were wrong.

The two strongest criminals in the country, staring you down like a piece of meat. It doesn't matter that they are the ones in cages of silver and wolfsbane. You are the one who feels cornered.

You can immediately feel out their dynamics. The taller one is the older one, quiet and still in his cage as he sits in the center. Shaggy, shining hair framing his face and neck like an elegant piece of lace over a brides face. He has a sleeve of tattoos on one forearm, a thick tattoo on his neck. Eyes glowing a deep, blood red, as he tries to read your entire story with only a look in your direction.

The giggling one is less intimidating, only by a hair. Chemically lightened locks pushed back messily, letting his entrancing features shine in the light from the narrow windows high on the walls. He has tattoos as well, but they seem few and far between. His eyes are human for a moment before they meet yours. Instantaneously, they flick black.

The knot drops from your throat and you let out a small, pathetic, squeak.

Changbin breaks your staring contest with the alpha, shouting orders at them. "Take the sheets off your cot and set them outside of your cage. Do not attempt to touch her, I will shoot you."

    Neither criminal makes a move to follow his orders, both simply staring at you.

A low growl is emitted when the older alpha finally snaps up, tearing the sheet off the sorry excuse for a bed in one fell swoop. The younger follows his lead, shoving their sheets through the bars that are wrapped in the poisonous flower.

You look to the guard, and he nods, "go." With his finger twitching at the gun ready to pull it, you jump over the dark red ashes and into the wolves den, snatching the sheets up as quick as possible and dashing away, out the door before they even get a chance to lock in your scent up close.

The giggles follow you all the way to the elevator and ring in your head even as the thick metal thunks shut.

As you take a deep breath, you notice the sheets are gripped to your chest, your claws drawn subconsciously in your panic and ripping them up. "Shit!" You let out a curse and shove them into the bottom of the basket so you don't have to smell it as closely on the long ride to the basement.

˚➶ ｡˚

The lingering wafts of your fresh scent are long gone, nothing to distract the alpha's from their caged boredom and bubbling rage over being caught. "I'll have that runts heart in my hands by the end of the month." Hongjoong groaned, to no one in particular- he knew Seonghwa was too deep in thought from their recent revelations. "Fucking back stabbers. They're more pathetic than a bitch in heat trying to get off with a dildo."

The thought hit his mind as soon as the words left his lips.

The thought of you, legs spread with your hand dipped low, trying to satisfy your primal urges and-

"Stop that." Seonghwa growls, kicking the bars of their shared 'wall'.

"Settle down!"

"Oh, like you weren't thinking it!" Hongjoong rolls his eyes, a scowl on his face as he crosses his arms. "Your ruts coming and you don't want your-"

"I said stop," he nearly roars, grabbing Hongjoong's state issued orange top and ripping it with his claws as he pulls him forward.

"I know you want her because I want her too." He whispers, smirking at the telltale signs of desire and bloodlust in his mates eyes. Red swirling around the brown of his human eyes. "Imagine how good she'll smell when we take out that stupid blocker. We'll be drowning in her scent." He moans, grabbing his wrist, "I get the honors, my claws are sharper, anyways," he draws them quickly, digging them into his skin as if to prove a point.

"I can use my teeth, mark h-"

"Oh, will you two stop? Love of God..." The guard in the large room slaps his book down on the rickety table. "What is there possibly for you to be fighting about? You're about to be executed, you know that right? No jury in the world will let you walk, especially the human half."

Their frustrations turn to the man, letting each other go. "Ah, you think so?" The older croons, dragging his index over his bleeding wrist and bringing it to his lips, sucking it clean before he continues. "We won't be around these parts long enough to meet the jury."

"What do you mean by that?"

Hongjoong covers his mouth when a laugh slips past. Seonghwa simply smirks as he sits cross legged, eyes locked with the guard as he licks his wound.

"What do you mean by that?!"

The blonde man breaks out in a fit of laughter. The brunette simply flashes his bloody canines in a twisted smile.

˚➶ ｡˚

You spent the whole time doing your daily tasks trying to hype yourself up to go back up to the fifth floor.

You usually went top down, four to one. Nobody has ever been on five before.

You go bottom up today, starting at Chungha with a full basket of freshly washed sheets. She prattles on about her visit with Jiyun, and how she's so thankful for you.

You choose that as your focus point for the rest of the work day, even as you press the button to the fifth floor.

You think back to the first time you spoke to Chungha, she was a crying mess, unable to sense that you were an omega like herself. She cried and cried and cried as you held her hand through the bars of temporary holding. She cried for her daughter, for cursing her with the shame of being the weakest link of any pack. When she looked up and saw your eyes, barely glowing, she cried more.

She apologized profusely, but you reassured her that her words were true, and you hadn't been offended. You told her that, in fact, she was the first to ever share your feelings of what being an omega really meant. It meant loneliness beside anyone but other omegas. Fake relationships born with people who only stuck around because of their primal instincts to either prey on you or protect you. It meant facing the fact that you were outcasts from both of the world's dominant societies. Outcasted from humans for being a werewolf. Outcasted from werewolves for being weak. So weak, in fact, that blood ash didn't even think of you as a wolf.

That night, you drove four hours to the next village over and looked after her daughter until her aunt had room. You remember the first thing the girl said to you. She didn't speak that whole day, surely in shock from the past few days events. But when you tucked her into the motel bed, she spoke as soft as a ghost, "sing me a song?"

You hum it to yourself now, the soft sound reverberating through the metal around you until the door opened.

You wheel the basket with you this time, like it will protect you as you approach the open doors, already feeling the unwavering gaze of the criminals.

"Hey, dolly~" Hongjoong, you had learned when you took a peek into their files, purred your way.

You didn't give him the satisfaction of responding verbally, but he saw the goosebumps on your arm as you reached into the basket, stretching on your tip toes to get the last two sheets.

"You never shut up do you, Kim?" The guard sighed with an exhausted tone, making you smile as you slowly made your way to the ring of red dust.

The throaty rumble from Seonghwa, the older, taller wolf, makes that smile drop to the depths of Hell.

The new guard seems to notice your anxiety, eyeing you up- in a much less predatory manner than the caged men. "Go on, 'mega. I'm watching them."

A bang on the metal bars makes you glue your foot right back where it came from. It's the blonde one, "you shut the fuck up!"

"No, you shut the fuck up! I'm the one with the silver bullets!"

All of the yelling is making you tremble, Hongjoong and the guard going back and forth. "She isn't your omega!"

"She ain't yours!"

Seonghwa watches with a sinister smile as you back away from the ash and the guard, calling to you quietly, "hey."

The soft tone of his voice makes you raise your eyes, but not your head. His eyes don't hold that threatening and dominating red from before. They're a soft brown color that reminds you of a beautiful dark oak in the morning sunshine. "What's your name?"

"(Y/n)..." your tongue moves without your consent, fresh blankets held to your work scrubs.

You desperately want the guard to notice this trance you're in, and grab you out of it. You want to do it yourself, but you can't do anything but admire the beauty of the criminal who has you hypnotized.

"You're a pretty omega, y'know? What color is your wolf?"

"Black..." It's a slur off your lips, barely registering in his sharply tuned ears over the yelling that continues to fill the room.

"Mine too. What's her name? His is Akma."

"Solis."

"Very pretty. Is she fast?"

"Yes."

"Does she want an alpha? A mate?"

"Yes."

The guard finally notices your raised gaze, affixed to the infamous, unlawful, man. He puts his gun back in the holster quickly before gripping your shoulder and forcing you to turn around. "You idiot, didn't anyone ever tell you not to look a first born in the eyes?"

"Sorry. I'm sorry." No one had ever told you that, actually.

Both of the criminals share a smirk as the man from your pack attempts to calm you. It wasn't hard for them to figure out you were an alpha-less village. They could smell every single wolf in five miles, and not a single stench from a wolf even nearly as strong as them.

There was, however, you. A honeyed smell that filled their guts with the primal need to rip out the eyes of anyone who dared look at you.

The guard couldn't be more wrong. You are their omega. You just don't know yet.

"Go and give these fucks their sheets, then get the hell out of here." The man shoved you, making you jump clumsily over the ash so you didn't break the seal.

He yells at them to back up, and they do so without a fight.

You shove them both in at the same time before running back out quickly, grabbing the empty basket and dragging it with you, the sound of the wheels scraping with the force of your panic echoing in the near empty room.

"You guys get off on scaring defenseless girls?" The guard scoffs, not expecting an answer as he drags the chair out of the room and slams the doors behind him.

Seonghwa lets his facade fall the second the door shuts, falling to his knees and grappling at the sheet like he's a starving man with the last piece of food on Earth. Hongjoong watches for a moment in confusion until the scent catches up with his weaker nose. Then he's quickly falling in the same position.

"It worked, the guard was so easy to distract," Hongjoong chuckles, face buried into the sheet that smells vaguely like you from your time spent holding it. "What did you learn?"

"(Y/n), a black wolf named Solis," he pauses, eyes rolled back as he takes a deep breath. They're red when they re-open. "No mate. It's really her."

"You think we should have told her?" Hongjoong inquires, looking through the bars.

He's never seen Seonghwa on his knees for anyone but him or the moon.

"No," he shakes his head, turning to lock eyes with him. "She'll figure it out when I mark her."

"When I mark her."

He rolls his eyes at his defiant nature, knowing full well he won't disobey his orders no matter how badly he wants to do something.

In a dog eat dog world, the strongest was the most powerful. Unlike their human neighbors, werewolves don't decide political or social standing by money or family name. They decide based on who comes out on top in a battle of the body and of the wits.

It had been determined years ago, when they were just young rebellious pups, that Seonghwa was the alpha. A fight in the woods under the moon had set it in stone between the two.

He could have ripped Hongjoongs throat out right then and there, but now, 13 years later in the present; they're bonded for life.

Sometimes he still sees Hongjoong as that 12 year old boy under his teeth, still snapping and growling even as he bled out with tears in his dark eyes, fighting to survive purely out of spite.

"You can mark her first," Seonghwa speaks quickly, turning his back as he puts the sweet smelling sheet on his cot.

He smiles at the man, a quiet thanks spoken through their bonded souls.

˚➶ ｡˚

Tuesday, they don't see you until much later in the day, but they bask in the sight of you opening the door with a broom and tray in hand, smiling at Changbin. You'll be here for a while, it's a big room.

"Hey, Binnie," you whisper to the beta, and Seonghwa has to bite his tongue.

Binnie? Ugh.

Hongjoong isn't so polite, "hey, Dolly! We don't get a hello?" You barely peek at him, eyes flicked from him right back to the floor in a millisecond. He knows you noticed his pout when he hears the smallest 'hello' tremble by your lips.

You start in the corner, headphones attached to your walkman with your favorite song on repeat to try and soothe yourself. Bill Withers calming voice blocks out every word of the teasing alphas, but you can still feel them mocking you and picking at you.

You don't dare sweep anywhere near the blood ash on the floor. One less precaution in place was one more thing to worry about.

"Bye, Binnie."

He does growl that time, eyes narrowed on your back until the door shuts.

˚➶ ｡˚

Wednesday, you have a frown on your face. "Three days in a row?" The guard Hongjoong got in a yelling match with, Merle, greets you as you come into the cavernous room, "bad schedule huh?"

"No kidding," you sigh, feet slightly hesitant to pass the dust border, "I'm here to fix your shirt. It's state property." You don't look at them, but they know who you're referring to.

They act like they don't, though. Just to hear more of your voice. To make you wriggle under their attention. "Sorry? What do you mean?"

You look and point to Hongjoong, his collar ripped from Seonghwas grasp. "State property."

"Ah, of course." He grins like a jackal, pulling it over his head and sticking his hand out of the bars just in the slightest. "On one condition."

You pout, eyes on the shirt which is just far enough away that you'd have to step closer. And it's the cutest fucking thing they've ever seen.

You look back up at him, silently asking. "Sit and talk with us. The guards here are no fun!" His laugh makes you jump back further, he sounds like a mad pirate.

You look over to Merle, who just shrugs, "just get it over with so these guys will shut up. They're only talkative around you, they need an audience for their antics."

"We won't bite," Seonghwa chuckles with his teeth exposed, making you shiver.

"Fine, give it here." You take a single step forward, palm out infront of the blonde.

When you grab it and go to race away like always, his claws wrapping all the way around your wrist stops you, sharp edges threatening to slice your skin down to the bone. You scream your head off, silenced when Seonghwa coos softly, "sit with us, and talk."

"Let me go..." you plead, eyes frantically flicking to Merle, whose gun is drawn to Hongjoongs head from the border of the ash, waiting for him to take one more wrong move so he can rid the world of one of its greatest criminals.

"Sit, omega." You do so, slowly lowering to the floor with your wrist and life still in Hongjoongs hand. "You have your sewing kit with you, I can hear the buttons hitting the needle. So sit, stay, and talk while you fix it."

Once again, they're the ones caged in. But you're the one who's stuck.

     One look to Merle tells you he probably wouldn't help you even if he could get to you. He lowers his gun as your tailbone hits the concrete floor.

     Your thin work scrubs do little to fight the cold of the old flooring, one reason of many that you shake as you reach into your purse and get the small tin box.

     Hongjoong releases your wrist and sits mirrored to you, hands perched on the bars in the gaps of the purple vine flower wrapped on them. Seonghwa comes to the corner of his side of the split cage and breathes in deeply through his nose, eyes locked in on your every movement. "So you're essentially the errand lady? Maid?"

      "Yes..." You murmur under your breath as your fingers work to thread the needle, slowly backing away until you're out of reach, but still stuck in the blood ash with no one to rescue should the men infront of you decide to rip their cages open. You only stop backing away when you hear a warning growl.

     You don't care to see which it came from, you just want to do this as quickly as possible and get far, far, away. They could have chose anyone to focus their annoying efforts on. Changbin, Merle, the warden. But no, just your luck.

      "You live in the village, right? Were you born here?" Seonghwa continues to do the talking as you carefully fix the shirt.

      "Yes. And no."

     A small hum from the one in front of you is a sign they want you to continue. "I was born to an overpopulated pack. They kicked me out when I turned eighteen. Our old alpha took me in." The hitch in your voice is a clear sign that it's a sore topic. And Hongjoong continues to poke the wound.

      "How did they find you?"

       "Woods."

       "Woods?"

     You can't help the small growl of frustration, lip curling as you look up. "Woods."

     The reaction is one you wouldn't have expected from a normal person, but then- they aren't normal.

     They laugh, cooing over your gesture of anger. Compared to them, you seem like a teacup puppy. "My, my," the brunette chuckles breathily, "is that Solis coming to play?"

     "At least she can," you snap, sent to the back of your own head as your wolf tries to defend you, "she isn't a caged mutt."

    Hongjoong breaks out into a manic fit of laughter, while his paramour is the opposite: his eyes flick red before your own, sharp teeth on display in a show of dominance over your smaller ones that are subconsciously bared at him. "Watch it, omega." He spits his words with venom, "I won't be so nice when I get out of here."

     You rip the extra thread with your claw, kicking the shirt across the floor so it sits at the bottom bar of Hongjoongs cage. His chest still wracks with laughter, watching as you sit up in a low squat so you're still level with the alpha.

      It's clear that you aren't currently you. Your wolf has control of your mouth and body, crouched in a position akin to that of a dog ready to pounce as you hiss your words, "I'm going to laugh in your face as you hang."

     "Aw, is that how dear old alpha died?"

     "Cut it out!" Merle screams disinterested, eyes glued to his flimsy magazine.

      "I heard he got gutted~" Hongjoong giggles, watching the color flicking in your eyes.

     "I'll gut you!" Your threat only makes him laugh more.

      "(Y/n)!" The voice of Hylyon breaks your wolf away from you immediately, falling to your bottom and crawling to the sound unwittingly. "You fucking idiot, Merle!" 

     She reaches over the blood ash and pulls you over the ring, letting you collapse into her as she drags you away, still throwing profanities at the incompetent guard. Hongjoong is laughing loudly. Seonghwa yelling at you to come back. The elevator cuts of his roar, the last thing you see through your blurry vision is his fist making a dent in the silver cage.

You fall onto the floor of the metal box. Thoughts flood your head too quickly for you to swim though them, making you drown and try to escape by releasing the pain with tears. You don't even notice when your friend turns her key in the elevator to make it stop in its tracks, you only see her when she sits right infront of you.

"Babes, calm down, I've got you," she reaches out slowly and places a hand on your leg, slowly rubbing her thumb over your knee.

"I can't go back up there... they're too strong, they make me feel like I'm suffocating," you splutter through gasps, "I'm too weak!"

"Hey, hey, you're spiraling!" She opens her arms and pulls you into her, letting you sob into her uniform. "In and out, girl," she holds the back of your neck securely, almost instantaneously making you calm. "I got you... I got you..."

You sit there for a good while, crying into her shoulder as you sort through your wracked brains.

Your alpha was gutted. Right in front of you. Because of you.

Unbeknownst to you, their tuned ears are still listening in, the elevator stuck within their ear shot as you begin mumbling your favorite song to yourself through tears.

˚➶ ｡˚

The sound of claws slicing through the skin on your back rings in your ears. Though, you can't feel it. Your eyes are locked in on your own claws, dug into the hardwood floor of your humble home to keep yourself from being dragged.

     You've been here a million times before.

     Blood pooling off of your body and onto the frigid surface below you. Teeth sharp and bared to the moon though the open window, begging that she might let you survive. Eyes aglow with your instincts as your wolf tries with every fiber of her being to turn, but she knows it's no use.

     The distorted voice above you drips with mocking venom, a chuckle as its owner realizes you can't even fight back like other wolves might: by letting your wolf fully transform.

     The wind blows through your curtains, washes your body in the artic breeze. The snowflakes on your windowsill are so delicate, all of their features fade into a blurry mush as they make contact. They melt, dripping down your wall.

     This time it's different.

      You're turned over, gaping wounds slammed into the floor as always, but when you look up to your aggressor it's different.

      His eyes aren't the yellow of a rouge, but the red of an alpha. His hair isn't that unruly blonde curl that you pulled at frantically, that you can still feel on your finger tips when your hands are unoccupied. It's long, shining, soft looking dark locks.

       You fall through the floor into another time, another place.

     Face first into the snow: your hands, shaking with adrenaline, do little to catch you.

       You don't remember this.

       This isn't right.

       This isn't your nightmare.

       You find yourself in a clearing in a forrest, the densely packed trees creating a bubble of nature around you. "(Y/n)?"

      You whip around, coming face to face with an unfamiliar man. Almost face to face. If he weren't floating a few feet in the air.

     His legs are crossed under him, hands facing palms up on his knees.

      "Don't worry. You're only dreaming." He speaks calmly as he floats around you in a circle, like a shark examining its potential prey.

     You follow him with your feral gaze, that familiar feeling of an adrenaline crash quickly approaching.

You know you're only dreaming. You've had that last dream more times than you can count in the past three years. It always plays the same. But not this time. You're only slightly thankful that you don't have to witness your alphas death again, but the gratefulness is overshadowed by confusion.

"Are you an angel?" You whisper, watching the man's soft and rounded features as he comes to a stop in the air in front of you and gracefully lowers to his feet.

"I can be, if that's what you want me to be. I'm only here to watch your dreams, fight off the nightmares."

"Why?" You feel distant from your body, watching powerlessly as your hand takes his, letting him lead you out of the clearing and into the darkness of the woods.

It disappears around you, warping into a spring day on a familiar path.

"A favor for a friend."

With the snow gone, you're in your spot, your old towel on the dewy grass with a book laid atop of it and the soil beneath your feet as you approach.

"Enjoy."

The hand vanishes from your own, leaving you alone on the side of the path. You look for him. But he's just an eidolon, watching you from the sky where you can't see him.

You warily take a seat and pick up the book.

˚➶ ｡˚

They don't see you again through the week. And when the next Monday comes by, their sheets are removed while they're in the showers.

Hongjoong sighs from his place on the floor, for the tenth time in the past half hour.

"Hong-"

"I miss our omega!" He whines, cutting him off.

Seonghwa stands from his cot, slowly lowering to the floor next to their shared bars. He lays flat on his back, mirroring Hongjoong as he tilts his head to look at him. "Soon." Is the only word he utters.

He reaches through the silver bars, ignoring the sting as the fresh wolfsbane brushes his wrist, and takes his hand.

The both of them look up at the ceiling through the bars of their enclosure.

Your scent is long gone from the room, and their noses can barely pick up on it through the rest of the village and prison.

"I want out of here," Hongjoong whispers, so lowly that the guard can't hear him from outside of the door, "when are they coming? Your bond with them is stronger, I can barely feel them..."

"Soon." He repeats, "very soon, Joong."

˚➶ ｡˚

Tuesday you manage to talk your coworker into sweeping the top floor, and you rejoice in the freedom of not being under the alpha's gazes. You've worked out a good schedule to completely avoid seeing them, and it's made your job feel like it's back to normal.

You can still smell their power wafting through the AC, but it's bearable. You distract yourself in your free time by making excuses to be on the second floor with Chungha and the other omegas.

Today, that excuse is 'omegas need physical outlets too', and the warden let you bring up buckets and brushes so you could all scrub the base boards.

"Oh, I've got one!" The omega to your left speaks, lifting his brush in the air in a eureka moment, "Texas Chainsaw Massacre or... Halloween?"

Chungha scoffs with a smile as she scrubs away to your right, "are we including sequels? There's like a billion!"

"No, stand alone original," Beomhan goes back to scrubbing as he continues, "both of them are classics but which one is a better classic?"

"Halloween is the classic slasher, Texas Chainsaw is like psychological horror," you chime in as you dip your brush into the bucket, sitting on your calves as you take a breather. "I think it's not fair to compare them... but Texas Chainsaw, definitely."

They laugh along with you, and Chungha shakes her head, "Halloween has more rewatchablity. You don't want to see Sally go through that more than once, but Laurie Strode fights harder and it's more like, yeah I'll watch her kick ass again."

"Cinematography in both is so beaut-"

The lights above you flicker before they shut down completely. People start muttering their concerns, quite a few of them looking your way. "Don't worry!" You hop up and get your keys from your pocket as you make your way to the locked stairwell. "I'll go and see what's going on, keep scrub-"

A loud siren echoes in the brick walls, shocking you all to cover your ears.

Everyone looks to you for answers, and you don't have any as your brain starts throwing theory after theory at you.

"It's okay, go back to your cells! Shut them behind you!"

They listened, however grumpy about it. The cell doors locked automatically when they were closed.

"Hey, what's going on?" Chungha asked over the clanging of the cell doors. The two of you, along with Beomhan, were the only ones left after a moment.

"Go back to your cell, Beomhan, hurry."

"No, what's happening?"

     The sirens cut off and leave you in a pregnant pause for a moment as you simply try to calm yourself.

A deafening scream ricochets through the air vent next to you, scaring you into their arms as you all stare at it.

Usually, the air flow covered the echoes throughout the floors. But with no power, you could hear everything- albeit muffled.

Yells and shouts. Gunshots. Growls. Unidentifiable chaos. And above all, your ears tuned in on a rumbling, calm voice through it all.

"Ain't no sunshine when she's gone... It's not warm when she's away..."

Your eyes widen as theres a bang at the stairwell door. "Go, go!" You grab each of their wrists, dragging them into Chungha's cell. You slam it behind you and let down the sheet she has over it, backing away and staring at it as you hear the door hit the wall behind it with the force it's slammed open.

"(Y/n), what the hells happening?!"

     You slap your hand over his mouth and bring a finger to your lips. The other omegas on the floor are all making a ruckus, and you can only hope that it will confuse that unfortunately familiar voice so he can't find you.

˚➶ ｡˚

The beta in the large room ignores Hongjoong as he continuously asks after 'the pretty omega'.

He just sweeps and sweeps, finally understanding why you hate coming up here. He has his back turned to the cage, and consequently, to the windows.

High on the tall walls, the narrow glass is opened from the outside. Seonghwa smirks, and gestures his head to it. Hongjoongs gaze follows, and he has to slap a hand over his mouth so he doesn't laugh.

A skinny figure is sliding its way in through the window sideways.

He drops to the floor as silent as a mouse, landing on his knees and grinning wildly up at his alphas.

Hongjoong throws his head back in preemptive relief, while Seonghwa is watching with a similarly wide smile as the man walks straight through the blood ash, breaking the circle with the tip of his shoe.

The worker still has his back turned as the lock on Seonghwas cage is picked with a long claw. He doesn't even know what's happening as the next thing he knows, he's thrown across the floor.

      Blood ash knocks up around him, coughs wracking his body as he looks up to his assailant.

      Park Seonghwa, newly freed from his cage, looks down at the worker with his eyes glowing red.

     "Now usually..." He begins, crouching to be face to face with him, "I'd go through this whole place just for the fuck of it and cause some beautiful chaos. But I'm looking for someone."

     "(Y/n)?" He stutters out, backing away only to knock into Hongjoongs legs. Stuck between the two criminals, he chooses his own head over yours. "The second floor! Sh-she's on the second floor!"

     "Let's go get our omega, Joong."

      Nonchalantly, Hongjoong draws his claws and slices the neck of the worker. He hops over the gurgling body and follows his mate with an ecstatic giggle.

      He wraps his arm around the skinny man's shoulder, "Wooyoung! Our savior~" He ruffles his hair and laughs as he groans.

     "You guys know I've got your back. Seonghwa told me about your new omega, you seem excited," he mimics the alphas smile as the eldest of the trio opens the doors.

     The guard on duty, who happens to be Merle, looks back with wide eyes.

"Yes, oh yes!" His eyes roll to the back of his head, touching the stitches you made on his shirt. "Oh, you'll love her, she's a feisty omega just like you."

He makes a run for the fire alarm at the end of the hall, but Seonghwa is faster. The beta is tackled to the floor.

"I'm glad you both will have a buffer, tired of you always at each other's throats during ruts," Wooyoung laughs, looking down at the guard as they pass.

Seonghwa had simply torn out his throat with his bare hand and made his way to the elevator, holding it open with an impatient glare.

The door closes behind them and the only sound is Seonghwa's heavy breathing.

"You're real eager, huh?" The omega breaks the silence, "San should be coming in any second to block the main door. No one will get past him. The rest are in the village, just as we planned."

"Good, she'll need somewhere to rest before we take off....Fucking idiots, thinking they can cage us." He groans, eyes flicking to the number above the doors as it dings.

       3? "Fuck."

     The door opens and the woman on the other side takes a moment, nearly walking in before she notices the crimson liquid dripping from Segonhwa's hand.

      She makes it halfway through the hall before Hongjoong pounces on her, fighting her effortlessly as if she's a rag doll. The guards run to try and save her, but it's too late for the unfortunate woman, and they just signed their own death certificate as well.

       Seonghwa and Wooyoung make quick work of them, but their plan is already foiled as the lights flicker to a halt and leave them bathed in dim light of the setting sun in the few windows.

      The alphas fall to their knees as their sensitive ears are bombarded with a loud, incessant siren.

      "Wooyoung!" Hongjoong screams over it, "go turn that shit off!"

      He nods, taking the keys off a mauled guard and dashing to the stair well, leaving it unlocked behind him.

     Hongjoong crawls to Seonghwa, collapsing into his chest with his teeth clenched and palms over his ears. His ears were always more sensitive.

     His partner places his hands over his, thumb running over his own. He looks down with his eyes glowing red, meeting pure black.

He leans and kisses him deeply, all teeth and bloodlust, trying to merge their souls until the sirens cuts off.

Their foreheads rest together, ignoring the chaos of the beta's around them yelling to be released.

"Are you ready?" Seonghwa whispers, gathering another set of keys from the fallen workers. He throws it to one of the locked in prisoners, a smirk on his face. So much for not creating chaos.

"Let's go," Hongjoong holds the door to the staircase open and lets him go first with a dramatic bow.

It takes one scream to start the havoc. The entire prison is filled with the sickly sweet sounds of caged animals with a taste of freedom. Gunfire and howls bring a smile to Seonghwa's lips as he sings out,

"Ain't no sunshine when she's gone... it's not warm when she's away..."

He hums the song with a wide grin as Hongjoong kicks the door. It takes only one more kick before it slams open and bangs against the cement wall.

The omegas in their cells are all yelling at them, at one another, in general.

Hongjoong kicks one of the many buckets on the floor over and groans, "here I was thinking she'd make it easy. I guess we'll have to go cell to cell!" A small spike of a heartbeat in his ears makes him smirk, following the sound that he memorized the first time he'd heard it.

Seonghwa follows him, immediately zeroing in on the same cell. He comes to stand infront of it, his breath making the blanket behind the bars sway slightly.

You see both pairs of orange slip on shoes and you feel your heart stop in your chest.

You cower further into the corner with Beomhan as Chungha stands in front of you. The sheet is grabbed from the outside and ripped away, making you all shriek.

"Were you playing hide and seek?" Hongjoong giggles, throwing the blanket to the side with his eyes never leaving you, a scowl growing on his features as he notices the way you're curling into another wolf. "You should know better than to hide from your alphas. Come on out."

You shake your head, gaze lowered as you hold onto the back of Chungha's uniform.

"(Y/n)," the saturnine man speaks, "come here."

"No, leave us alone! Leave me alone," your voice cracks despite how strong you want to appear.

"If I have to drag you out of here I will be very angry. Just come on, do us all a solid."

"No-"

"Open the fucking door!"

"No!"

The cells were built to hold lycans, which means lycans shouldn't be able to get in... right?

"Fucking-" Seonghwa hits the bars, leaving a dent and making the three of you jump.

Hongjoong leans on his tiptoes and whispers into his ear, and whatever he says makes his eyes begin glowing a murderous red.

He slowly wraps his clawed fingers around the bars, and the way Hongjoong backs up makes your stomach churn in anxiety of what's about to come.

And it was warranted anxiety.

With a loud growl and a single tug, he rips the silver bars from their cemented place in the wall, causing a large crack to form.

"Holy shit!" Beomhan screams, arms wrapping around you tightly.

Chungha is ripped from the small room and tossed all the way across the room, back colliding with the wall and leaving her unconscious.

You yelp as Beomhan meets a similar fate, torn from your grasp and out into the rec room like he's a mere bag of trash. You see Hongjoong approaching him with his long black claws out and proud, but your vision is blocked by the large alpha infront of you.

     Your hips back into Chungha's small desk, and your hands clamber around, landing on something small and solid.

     You swing it at his head and he ducks, grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of the small cell. You manage to swing again, making contact with his head. The small ceramic bowl shatters into pieces and leaves him only temporarily stunned, glaring down at you.

      "Fucking stop," he growls quietly, shoving you to the floor.

       He lets you shuffle away, only because Hongjoong is right behind you.

     The blonde chuckles, pulling you back up by your collar and crashing you face first into one of the round steel tables bolted into the floor. "Ow!" You yell out as your head makes contact, fighting against him with all your might, but it's fruitless.

     He kicks your feet apart and stands between them, leaning his chest over your back. You can feel his nose against your neck, over the healed skin above your scent blocker. You snap your eyes shut and do the only thing you can thing of.

     You can't fight. Begging to these men would be useless. You can't disappear into the floor like you wish you could.

     "Please, Selene," you pray to the moon, tears slipping past your shut eyes as you feel the claws of the mad man on your neck.

       You cry out as the other worldly sharp nails slice into your neck, slowly and almost surgically. His other hand is cupped on the back of your head, keeping your head pushed into the cold metal. "Shhhh," he gushes above you, "it's okay."

      Seonghwa sits at one of the bolted stools and rests his head to mimic yours, cheek on the table. "We'd've been more gentle if you listened, omega."

       Between the tips of his claws, Hongjoong holds your small alloy scent blocker. Almost instantaneously, your natural scent floods their senses.

     Their deep rumbles of pleasure make you snap your eyes back shut, missing the way Hongjoong stomps on the device.

     "Fuck," the wolf behind you curses, body pressed close to yours like he wants to fuse together, he places his hands in yours and tells you, "you might want to squeeze."

    "Wh- ah!" Your scream echoes over all of the other chaos as his teeth sink into your left shoulder, and you do just that. Your clawed hands squeeze around his, sharp nails knocking together as you hold on like his hands are the only thing keeping you from slipping to the underworld.

       It feels like a million pins and needles washing over you, leaving you paralyzed in place as he purrs into the wound, making your bones vibrate.

     A warm, comforting hand on your cheek makes you force your eyes open. Seonghwa smiles sweetly, like he isn't witnessing one of the biggest crimes in the lycan community.

      Forcing someone to be your mate for the rest of your mortal lives.

     "Breathe, omega," his words make you realize you're holding your breath, and you let it out as a sob. "That's it," he hums, rubbing his hand down your head with all the gentleness he's capable of.

        Hongjoong pulls away with a moan, resting his head between your shoulder blades as he catches his breath.

     Your wolf is already calling for her mate, howling in the back of your mind as you cry.

       "Don't worry, we'll take good care of you." Seonghwas words have little time to register in your adrenaline filled head as he turns your head the other way and climbs up on the table.

     It hits you when he moves your ruffled shirt away from your right shoulder. "No! No!" You find yourself with two million pins and needles in your body now, squeezing Hongjoongs hands all over again as Seonghwa sinks his teeth into you at an excruciatingly slow pace.

They're bigger, or maybe they only feel that way because your body is on fire. You sob freely, feet stomping pathetically to cope with the pain.

What little comfort you find in Hongjoong squeezing your hands back is washed away by the simple fact that it's him. That blood from his claws drips onto your skin.

It feels like a century later that the older alpha finally pulls away, a bellow of pleasure as he runs his thumb over the wound: making you jump.

"Your turn, omega."

The weight of their bodies is gone, but you can't bring yourself to move. Out of fear, maybe. Pain, perhaps.

"You know what happens to wolves who don't finish the bond." Hongjoong purrs teasingly, knowing full well that you will have to mark them back least you want to suffer at the hands of the moon herself.

A life with them was better than being turned inside out and left to the elements. Just barely.

You lift yourself on shaking arms and nearly fall as you turn. You would have if not for Hongjoong catching you. He lifts you back to the table much gentler, letting your legs dangle as you sit on the table top.

"Why... why me?"

"... Have you heard of Harry Talbot?"

"Harry Talbots a myth... what's he got to do with your fuck shit?"

"Harry Talbot was the first wolf that could smell his mate. He could tell just by her smell, they were meant to be." Hongjoong slots his way between your legs, smiling down at you with his bloody teeth, "her smell called to him. It wasn't just good. It wasn't a normal scent. It was...alluring."

You were growing dizzy, head spinning.

"Strong alphas can sniff out their true mate. And, baby, we're the strongest that there is."

You have to force yourself to swallow. Have to remember to breathe.

"Why? Because you're... alluring."

That's the last thing you can register before your world turns dark.

˚➶ ｡˚ PART ONE END ˚➶ ｡˚

[honeydazai]

୨୧·࣭࣪̇˖ taking care of you when you're sick

feat.: Dazai, Chūya, Ranpo, Fyodor, Nikolai, Sigma

warnings: none!

join my tag list here! 🪻

The moment you fall sick, DAZAI gets all the more annoying, obnoxious to the core as he whines about how unfair it is that you're sick and he's not — translating to “that you don't have to go to work and he does”. He might just use your sickness as an excuse to stay at home himself; after all, when you're in this critical of a condition, he has to be by your side at all times, right? Just in case of an emergency. Surely Kunikida and the President agree.

Taking care of others or even of himself isn't what he's particularly good at, though he will pretend to be absolutely certain about cuddling being a certain cure for any illness. If you threaten to give him the cold shoulder otherwise, he'll also go to the pharmacy and buy you medication, though he will either complain about it, or he'll play it up to be his God-given mission to save his stunning girlfriend's life.

“Hm? What do you mean, bella? Of course I've got the President's 'okay' for staying at home. Taking care of you is most important, after all, don't you agree? .. Don't be mean, I am taking care of you. I made you tea just now, didn't I?"

CHŪYA really doesn't like it whenever you're sick. While he's faced a handful of way more threatening situations before, he can't help but worry when you whine about your head hurting and your throat aching, about your stomach acting up or your vision blurring. It's not his fault that you're on his mind all day — he just wants you to be well. Is that too much to ask for?

Naturally, that translates to him being awfully good when it comes to him nursing you back to health. He wouldn't describe himself as a natural caretaker, but he is, in a way; he's protective and caring by nature, and he makes sure you're relatively well before he leaves for work every day. You don't just get the best medication on the market, but also energising meals made by him with the help of authentic recipes from elderly women he found online. To not fully lose his image, he half-heartedly complains occasionally, though his words are immediately redeemed by his beaming smile when he notices you're faring better.

“Jeez, that's one annoying cold you've got. It's been, what, like two weeks now and it's still not gone. Whatever. I've found this new soup recipe, though. It looks promising enough, doesn't it? I'll try to make it for dinner.”

RANPO admittedly is rather bad at taking care of you. To be blunt, he much prefers it when you coddle and spoil him, not the other way around, though he tries in his own ways — which mostly include sharing his snacks with you and being near you despite the risk of getting infected himself.

Unfortunately, you're not spared from his usual honesty; when you look downright awful, dark circles underneath your eyes, he will tell you just that. If you flake out on any dates the two of you had planned previously, he will whine, but at least he won't hold a grudge. While he's not particularly committed to being a caretaker, he at least stays by your side and brings you medicine and painkillers.

“You should eat more, y'know. Yes, I know you're nauseous. You've said so about twenty times already. You won't feel any better until you eat and drink enough, though. That's common sense.”

Naturally, FYODOR is more than simply good at taking care of you whenever you fall ill. With his age, it's no wonder that he has quite some experience and knows of many ways to heal you, though some of them might include disgusting homebrewed potions. You're best of just not asking what they're made of if you want to have any chance in downing them.

Unfortunately, his approach to helping you regain your health is more clinical than loving. He takes wonderful care of you, but he's not the type to cuddle with you and whisper sweet nothings in your ear while you're sneezing and coughing. If you ask sweetly enough, however, he might just read you a bedtime story or two.

“What is it, dear? I was just going to get you a new glass of water. .. Ah, I see. Do you really want me to stay that badly? Alright, then. Though me remaining by your side won't give you an excuse to skip taking your medication.”

It's no surprise whatsoever that NIKOLAI is not the most caring guy, simply put, and he might just tease you about being sick throughout the whole ordeal. He can't help it; you glaring at him, exhausted and sneezing, makes him giggle. Still, he's not all bad — he revels all the more in your surprised expression when he presents you with homemade soup, a family recipe, or so he tells you, and he smiles, content, when you admit that it tastes rather lovely.

With his ability, it's easy for him to get whatever you might need, whether that's food or a cup of tea or a bucket to throw up in, from the kitchen without moving from your bedside, so be prepared to spend quite a lot of time with him in the next few days — or weeks. Though, luckily, he's there to entertain you, not the other way around; when you say you want to curl up and just sleep the sickness off, he'll just keep watch next to you, silent and calm. After all, he does want you to feel better.

“Hmm, what did you say? You like my cooking? I'm honoured, doll! You're too kind! How about a quiz about what I put in there — poison, carrots, red beet, or all three? Ah, not feeling up for it, are you? What a shame. It's all three, if you're curious. I'm just kidding, of course. Don't you worry your pretty little head.”

SIGMA is the best choice for who to go to when ill. Not only is he kind and caring, he's also responsible and organised and, if you follow every step he tells you — eat his home-cooked soup, drink this medicine, sleep for as much as possible, take hot or cold compresses, inhale water with herbal essences —, you'll be at full health again in no time.

Even though he unfortunately can't stay at home all day to be by your side — duties at the casino call, even though he'd much rather not go —, he tries to spend as much time as possible with you, telling you about what has happened that day and how much he looked forward to being home with you again while your eyes flutter closed. When you've almost fallen asleep, his lips gently press against your forehead, even if that means he risks getting sick himself.

“Are you feeling better yet? No? Well, that's to be expected. It's only been a day, after all. I've brought you some more medicine, as well as some soup. Here, give it a taste, will you?”

@chxrry-doll @irethepotato @beandaifuku, @the-foreigner , @ranpobb, @arixsux, @dei-lilxc , @atsyushi @satoruislove @pastelsbaby @marina-and-the-memes @texchou @shiggysredhead @savagemickey03 @rosepxtlz @nikolaiswife @okura-s @ladykatakuri @lunerenzo @berywritesstuff @xelia25 @yuuotosaka3 @double-black-dazai @alice0blog @fyodorstolenushanka @ttaiyaki @itsnovariella @C4xcocoa

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[cannellee]

TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ★

୨୧ alpha! tokyo revengers x omega! reader (pairing: mikey, draken, baji, chifuyu, mitsuya, kokonoi, kakucho, taiju)

— how they act around their pregnant s/o.

tw : mention of sex in chifuyu's, possessive behaviour.

my masterlist : ☆

(this one is probably not the best I did, that's a 2nd version here😭 I actually finished it the day before and went to sleep, turns out I didn't save it so I had to rewrite everything from the start! I was less motivated, hope you don't mind the quality😭)

MIKEY

mikey is constantly on edge, you'll need to calm him down yourself because he sometimes can't control his reactions.

he's just anxious something might happen to you or your baby, he wants to be at your side all the time.

he is a bit nervous about being a dad but wants to support you with his whole being and show you that he can will take care of you and your future pup.

he is always trying to make you stay in bed : you don't need to do anything when your alpha can think and do things for you!

all you have to do is rest and stay safe inside the nest he scented for you.

rarely goes out too, and if for some reasons he does, he's spreading his pheromones like crazy outside of your home.

now that you're pregnant, your smell is even sweeter, he can't let anyone know there's a vulnerable omega without her alpha in this house while he's gone.

but everyone who even catches the smell of mikey knows not to mess with him. his scent is enough to send other alphas trembling.

if you thought mikey was clingy before, just imagine him when you're pregnant... absolute violation of privacy, this man is not letting you breath you have to blackmail him to make him wait outside of the bathroom.

he's sulky when he explains that he's just worried about you, so you make compromises and set rules.

but mikey is overall 10x softer now that you're pregnant, his scent has changed to fit your needs. it's more calming and he's constantly burying his nose at your scent glands.

DRAKEN

so so careful with you :(

if you think draken was sweet before, just imagine him during your pregnancy.

he is the perfect alpha and has every quality you would expect in an alpha, it's only natural he looks after you the best way someone can.

spoon feeds you!

now those 9 months are just more time for you to bond with your alpha ; you do everything together and draken assures you a healthy and stress free environment.

he's a really good listener and extremely attentive to your needs, he knows you so well he'll comfort you exactly how you need it.

and when your hormones are tormenting you and you take it out on a loving draken, you can't help but feel bad about your actions. so you leave the nest where you both were resting and put yourself in timeout.

as funny as it might sound, draken doesn't like it one bit and wastes no time going after you. he will scent you and reassure you that everything's fine, your alpha's here and he understands so don't worry <3

he will gently tuck you back inside your nest and prevent you from leaving once again by positioning you in a way that makes it impossible for you to get up on your own (especially with your big stomach).

wakes up first so he can make breakfast for you everyday and doesn't let you overwork yourself : he takes your health very seriously.

CHIFUYU

his pregant omega is probably the most well catered for omega ever.

chifuyu is just anxious about doing anything wrong that he studied every videos, magazines and books he could get his hands on.

now there's absolutely nothing that can go wrong.

always brings you new nest items, the softest and cutest plushies, comfortable pillows along with warm blankets.

everything has been scented of course. chifuyu loves your pregant smell, it's even sweeter than usual, but he can't stop himself from spreading and covering you with his pheromones.

he just doesn't want anyone coming too close to you, he has to put some sort of warning.

chifuyu keeps track of your meal and what you had for dinner. he's not the best but he tries and cook for you. he wants you to rest.

he makes the healthiest lunches, saying you and your baby need veggies to stay healthy and prepare yourself for the d-day.

chifuyu is in total bliss, he's always scenting you and cuddling with you inside your nest.

his alpha makes it his duty to have you satisfied. if you're feeling stressed chifuyu is quick enough to make the source of your anxiety disappear.

he's fast to catch on stuff like that.

if you want sweets or any snacks, he will bring them to you unless you don't have it at home. then he will run to the nearest store and come back with more than you asked.

if you ever feel horny, chifuyu is burying his nose in your pussy and won't let you rest until you're passed out from pleasure.

he's always gently reminding you of how proud of you he is. chifuyu's just so in love like that <3

alpha chifuyu is all about making his omega happy and showing how well he can provide. his omega didn't make a bad decision mating with him!

BAJI

if you thought mikey was on edge, baji is 10x worse.

baji's overprotective and doubting everybody's intentions, you could say he's a bit delusional at times.

and you can say whatever to make him chill out, he won't.

he is now your shadow and follows you everywhere. he doesn't understand why you would want some alone time when he only wants to protect you and make you feel safe.

absolutely forbids you from using perfume or any foreign fragrance : he will be scenting you every minute. that's just his instincts talking.

will try and do some cooking or cleaning to lessen your work but is honestly not that great in those fields.

this is why you softly tell him to give up and that you're happy to make both of your lunches<3

won't insist and instead you'll have guard dog baji sitting not far from you and watching you close just in case you need him to do something or to prevent you from accidentally hurting yourself.

he will also tone down his usual teasing. he doesn't fully grasp what pregnancy does to you, but he notices that you get tired more easily and that you're quickly carried away by your emotions.

he doesn't want to become an external source of stress for his already sensitive omega.

belly kisses!! baji is in love with your round tummy and can't help but fall to his knees and place gentle wet kisses all over your skin.

loves seeing you waddle around with you belly round of his pup. he's full of pride and you swear you can see stars in his eyes when he looks at you...

KOKONOI

another reliable alpha.

everything is on standby after you announced your pregnancy.

you're his #1 priority (not that you weren't already).

kokonoi and you are now attached to the hip.

he is a bit anxious about doing anything wrong but he doesn't let it show, he can't let his emotions contaminate you or the baby.

he is very strict with himself and doesn't allow himself to display a single sign of weakness: he wants to be strong and reassuring during your pregnancy. kokonoi knows it's not easy and wants you to rely on him as much as possible.

also, anything you want is yours in a minute. be it a massage, food, nest supplies and anything you ask.

kokonoi can't let his perfect omega needy, as her alpha he has to fulfill every one of her wishes.

understands if you want to go out for a bit, you can't stay inside for 9 months... but kokonoi is watching everyone walking past you with a death stare.

only lets his guard down when you're back inside, the only place he deems safe enough for you to be.

he is so dedicated to you, nothing's too much when it comes to you.

he's spending without counting and wishes to make the both of you the happiest people on earth.

now kokonoi will have to protect and care for 2 persons, his past makes him extra aware of the unfairness of the world, this is why he'll work even more. he doesn't want any of you to lack anything.

thus you could say he's a bit more overprotective than usual.

his hand is always on your belly, would let his hand fusion with your stomach if he could.

he just loves your round belly so much! and you scent... kokonoi isn't sure when he has smelled something that good, he's constantly burying his nose in the crook of your neck.

KAKUCHO

can something even go wrong when kakucho is your alpha?

he's so thoughtful you thank god every day he's your alpha. will bring you everything you need before you even ask for it.

if you need fresh air, kakucho is immediately wrapping you up and checking on his phone which places are the calmest and most pleasant. he knows the importance of your mental health during those months and won't prevent you from doing anything.

those dirty alphas eyeing you up during you daily walks better beware! alpha kakucho is the definition of "don't worry love, I can fight".

will take down anybody who tries to spoil your stroll. his omega should be able to do anything without being disturbed.

kakucho is the best at dealing with your mood swings : never complains and never brings it up again once it's over. he won't make fun of you ever and will instead try his best to appease you.

often does it by showering you with his pheromones. otherwise he has you tucked in his arms, pressing your head to his scent gland at the crook of his neck.

he knows his smell calms you down and you're so grateful to your alpha for being so understanding <3

kisses everywhere and anywhere!

grabs you by the waist and makes you turn, makes you laugh and brings you flowers and others gifts everytime he comes home : his only goal is to see you smile.

seeing you pregant reminds him of just how much he loves you and how happy he is to have his own little family with you.

MITSUYA

mitsuya is ready.

nothing can go wrong when mitsuya is your alpha.

probably has the biggest breeding kink out of all the list here. he loved seeing you take care of his sisters like a good omega would, so your pregnancy was a dream come true.

goes to parenting lessons with you and reads ton of magazines about the subject.

mitsuya can't and won't fail as a father.

you can rest assured when mitsuya is here, he's not leaving anytime soon.

has temporarily changed his work place, he's now doing everything at home and won't hesitate to drop everything if you call for him.

he wanted to be able to satisfy any of your cravings without delay. plus, his instincts have been going crazy since you got pregnant and he can't focus at all if he isn't sure you're doing perfectly well.

he has to keep an eye on you.

you can't go out, mitsuya is here for that. he can't put you in any danger, that's why he will quickly do any errands or buy anything you ask.

everything is homemade with mitsuya. the massages, the delicious and healthy meal he cooks for you along with the clothes he's been sewing are all from your lovely alpha mitsuya.

that's his way of showing you he can and will take care of the both of you without any doubt.

alpha mitsuya with a pregant mate is more possessive than usual.

he is currently working on plushies that he can scent and put in your nest.

he knows your nest is even more of a sacred place now, that's why he takes great care of it and vows to make it the most comfortable and familiar nest for you and your future pup.

constantly tells you how proud he is that you're carrying his pup and that you're doing so well.

will start purring a bit as well as scenting your scent glands any time you're cuddling, he knows how stressed you can get :(

TAIJU

if you thought taiju was a menace to society before, your pregnancy triggered something in him.

he's now a danger for anyone whom you crosses path with.

that's why you'd rather stay inside with him, he just sees everyone as a potential threat that you both can't go out like a normal couple.

but that's fine though, taiju considerably softened and is at your beck and call. all of black dragon is yours to use, whatever the reason.

kokonoi & inupi were ordered to keep and eye on you and secure the area around your house so that nobody suspicious can even come close.

it's not that taiju can't defend you himself, he just doesn't want to put you through unnecessary stress.

that would mean he has to leave your side for a bit and he can't do that in your state. you need proper care at all time.

taiju feels a great sense of pride and accomplishment watching you walk around full of his pup.

he's always dreamed about growing his family, nothing matters more in his eyes.

you are what has the most importance for him, and now that his cute little omega is pregant he's in complete bliss.

his behaviour has considerably changed to fit your needs. he can't let any negative emotions go past your radar, he knows how emotional pregnancy is making you and he doesn't want to make you anxious.

isn't a fan of pda but it's the only thing he's been doing since you announced your pregnancy.

lets you do anything to him. he's like a gentle bear who is threatening only to others.

taiju is just so in love. his omega is so perfect, all sweet and docile. your pregnant body seals the deal and you won't ever leave him now. this thought alone puts his mind at ease.

[wardenparker]

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 12

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 12.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* Pregnancy. labor, childbirth, health emergency, hospital stay, talk of living wills and things going wrong, traumatic birth, mentions of death/possibility of death, reassurance, emotional hurt/comfort. Summary: Months after going public with your relationship with your soulmate, you and Marcus get the phone call you've been waiting for: Sydney has gone into labor! Notes: The migraines and the pain aren't gone but the story continues! This week is a rollercoaster, my darlings. I hope you enjoy 🧡

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11

The call came late on a Saturday night during the first full week of September. Busy getting ready to go out for a later-than-usual date, you had jumped straight up in the air when your phone started ringing. The words 'labor' and 'hospital' got you and Marcus moving instantly, and you were off to meet Juan and Sydney at Sibley Memorial Hospital faster than a heartbeat.

“Now, it’s gonna be awhile.” Marcus warns you, even as he speeds towards the hospital. “I might have to come back to get you some clothes.”

"As long as it doesn't take as long as Junie did to be born," you joke, trying to dispel your own tensions even as you fidget in your seat. "Mom was in labor for twenty-six hours. I think Syd will just reach in and pull the baby out before she waits that long."

“She’ll be yelling that she has a dinner menu to put out.” Marcus snorts, understanding how frustrated Juan has been when his wife refused to slow down until the very end.

"If she doesn't have her recipe notebook out within an hour of giving birth, I'll be astonished." She never slows down, your best friend, and you adore her despite it being worrying sometimes. At least you got her to agree to the more-than-generous New Parent Leave package the inn has adopted. They're both technically on your payroll so you know they'll be well taken care of.

“The new sous chef she hired to help the old one step into her shoes has worked out really well so far.” Marcus knows that talking about the inn will help you focus. Keep you from worrying yourself up into a state until you can lay your eyes on Sydney.

"She needed another set of hands anyway." Just because you know what he's doing doesn't mean you're not grateful, and you fidget in your seat before glancing down at your phone for the thousandth time. No new texts. You just have to remind yourself that that is a good thing. "Hopefully this new guy will work out and she'll keep him on long term."

“Yeah, it’s nearly a fully house every night in the restaurant.” Business in the inn might have taken a slight hit from the negative press, but the food was still bringing in the locals.

"Thank god for that." Over the last few months your bookings haven't been too stellar, but you've been making up for it with restaurant patrons and special event bookings. At least you had room enough to accommodate Marcus's parents when they came up in July. "I don't want to think about what would have happened if we'd lost restaurant sales along with bookings."

“I’m just happy that the ‘anonymous sources’ have tapered off lately.” The accusations are still out there but you and Marcus have been laying low for now.

“What I wouldn’t give for two seconds with our sniveling exes.” It’s obvious that it has been Sam and Vanessa feeding things to the gossip columnists, although technically all you have is your say-so. They’re being clever enough to make sure that there is no paper trail and nothing being said that marks them as the obvious source of the negative rumors. “Why do we have to be the better people?” You gripe with a pout. “We could just as easily say made up shit about them. For all we know, they were the ones having an affair and this is a whole situation of they doth protest too much.”

“I don’t think so.” Marcus would love for that to be the case. “That week of the state dinner, he was sick.” He reminds you. “I think Vanessa went over to his house and somehow discovered she’s his soulmate. She told me that she had just found out, not that she just met him.” He theorizes. “And now, they are twisting their own narrative, but I don’t understand why.”

“If they’re trying to discredit Mom through me, it’s not working.” Though your business may have taken a hit, your mother’s first term has been fairly impressive so far. She’s getting her legislation moving at a brisk clip and her focus on the economy is already strong. You sigh, though, pushing out the bad thoughts, and squeeze his hand over the gear shift. “They don’t get to ruin our goddaughter’s birth. That’s not in the cards.”

“Nope.” Marcus made sure to pack the gifts for mother and baby in the car while you were rushing around to get dressed. Both of you are excited. “Doesn’t matter, today is about Sydney and the baby.” He chuckles. “And poor Juan too. I know he’s a wreck right now.”

“He’s so excited and so nervous.” The clock on the dashboard reads ten minutes until midnight and you squeeze his hand again to relieve some of your own nerves. It’s not like you’re the one having a baby. There’s no reason to be nervous, but you are. For your best friend and your goddaughter and for Juan who is like a big brother to you.

“Yes he is.” Marcus tosses you a grin. “I know he’s supposed to be handing out cigars, but I managed to get my hands on a box of very nice ones. When the baby is born, I’m going to give them to him. To celebrate the important milestones with.”

“They’re the ones your dad smokes, aren’t they?” Beaming that grin right back at him, the conjured memory of the vanilla and spice scent of Matthew Pike’s favorite cigars is easy to conjure. “He’ll love that.”

“I hope so.” Marcus grins. “I can just imagine how proud he’s going to be. He’s going to be crying as he holds his child for the first time.”

“He’s going to be a leaky faucet by the time we get to the hospital,” you predict with an affection laugh. “They deserve this. They already love that little girl so much and they’re going to be amazing parents.”

“Yes they are.” He can’t help but be a little envious, although it’s not a sharp feeling because he knows it will happen for the two of you soon enough. He will be content with cuddling his new goddaughter.

There’s little traffic at this time of night, and before you know it you and Marcus are parking and heading inside to track down the room number that Juan texted to you. Sydney and Juan’s families will be alerted when the baby is born, but it was their wish to have you and Marcus in hand for the birth. You’ll be right there in the delivery room with Syd and Juan while Marcus keeps the families updated in a group chat. You’re co-captains of Team Moral Support and you’re excited for every second of it.

His hand is on your back as you stop in front of the door. “Are you ready, sweetheart?” He asks with a beaming smile.

“Nervous. Excited. Very ready.” You lean back to steal a kiss, warmed through by the comfort of having him by your side for this enormous step in the lives of your close friends. Your chosen family. “And…I can’t wait until it’s us.”

“Soon enough.” He promises. “Soon enough.” He pushed the door open and knocks with the back of his knuckles. “Knock, knock.”

“Oh thank god!” Comes the response from inside, and you’re laughing at the relief in Sydney’s voice when you and Marcus push inside. “The Godparent Brigade has arrived! Here to pump you up, handle your relatives, and fetch your sushi after the little peanut has arrived on the scene.”

“Get the sushi before anything else.” Sydney demands, rubbing her stomach and nearly salivating at the thought.

"I've already got your order in my phone, and Marcus will jet out to get it. You won't have to wait at all, honey." It doesn't surprise you in the least that Syd is thinking about one of her favorite foods, but you move over to her side in the bed as the two men hug and give your best friend a squeeze on her shoulder. "How are you doing? Do you want me to go strong arm a nurse for some ice chips?"

“Juan already has two cups of them, letting them melt down.” She grins at you and then winces when another contraction hits.

It takes everything you've got not to wince or cringe along with her, knowing that it won't do a single lick of good and won't help her feel any better. "How far apart are they?" You ask instead, rubbing her back in small, soothing circles.

“Twelve minutes, forty-seven seconds.” Juan tells you as he looks down at his watch and then back at his wife. “We are down from fifteen minutes.”

"Getting closer and closer!" Practically squeaking with excitement, you can see the same light in Juan's eyes despite the worry lines in his furrowed brow. He just wants everything to go well, and you can't blame him there.

Sydney huffs out a small laugh, knowing you are doing exactly what she had wanted you to. Cheerlead for her. “Did you happen to bring those hard candies?” She asks, her eyes wide and pleading.

"Yes!" Ready to dig into your purse immediately, you swirl around and grab your bag from where you had dropped it to one side when you came in the room. "I've got sour lemon and orange, and I've got the sweet strawberry ones. What are you feeling at the moment?"

“Sweet.” She practically moans the word and reaches out to you with grabby hands. “Don’t hold out on me now.”

"Here we go, babe." One of the candies is deposited in Syd's outstretched hands and a few more get tucked into the pockets of your cardigan to make sure you have one on hand for her at no more than a moment's notice. "Plenty more where that came from, I promise."

“You are the best.” She moans, popping the candy into her mouth and rolling her eyes in pleasure.

"Now how are you doing, Dad?" With Syd moaning over her small treat, you turn your attention to Juan.

“I’m hanging in there, but I think I forgot my bag.” He rolls his eyes and huffs. “Too busy making sure the car seat was secure.”

"Babe, you have a key to their place, right?" If not, you'll pull out your keys and send Marcus back to Alexandria with your spare house key instead. You would go yourself, but you vowed not to leave Sydney's side once you got to the hospital. The kind of vow that is definitely life or death and she will hold you to.

“Juan gave me one.” Marcus nods, and agrees with your silent plan. “I’ll run and get the bag. Pick up some coffee that’s better than the shit they serve here, yeah?”

"I have a feeling we're going to need it." Juan nods and claps Marcus on the shoulder gratefully.

"I'll call you if anything changes," you promise him, turning back to your own soulmate. "You're amazing, sweetheart. Thank you."

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He reassures you, leaning in to kiss your lips before hugging Juan and bussing Sydney’s cheek. “Ask for the good drugs, mama.” He teases with a wink, wanting her to laugh.

"You bet your ass!" She groans, wincing more heavily with this contraction than she had with the one before. "Get back here fast, Marcus. Speed. Lots!"

“I’ll use my badge if I get pulled over!” He calls back as he rushes out of the room.

"He'll be back in no time." Realistically you know it will take quite a lot of time, in fact, but your job tonight is not to be realistic. It is to be positive and upbeat. To keep spirits high. "I think Malachi is going to win the betting pool." You grin and stand up by the head of the bed with Sydney, right there to hold her hand if she needs you. "He had Monday – tomorrow, technically – as the day, but I don't think anyone had Sunday."

“Juan…” Sydney smiles. “Take a nap, baby. I know you are exhausted. You were about to go to sleep when my labor started. Birdie is here, so get some sleep.”

He raises an eyebrow, knowing his wife is in pain, but also knowing that a short nap will ensure he is at his best to help her. "We'll take shifts," he compromises, eyeing you just as much as his wife. "So someone is always here holding your hand and timing your contractions. Short naps only. I don't want to miss anything."

“I promise I won’t push her out without you.” She teases, leaning in and pressing her lips to his. “Go, it might be your last nap for the next eighteen years.”

"I love you, Warrior Queen." There are more kisses and more sweet words, and finally Juan crosses the compact hospital room to curl up on the Dad Bench and try to get at least a little bit of sleep before his baby girl enters the world.

“I don’t want to be horrible through this.” She admits quietly. “I’m hoping the labor progresses so I get an epidural quickly.”

"There is not a single person who is going to even blink an eye if you are upset during this labor," you promise her. She pats the side of her bed and you perch on the edge of the mattress, holding her hand all the while. "If you wanted or needed to rage through the whole thing, we would stand by your right to do so. But we'll also stand by your choice to do things any other way. Whatever way is going to be the best possible experience of bringing your first baby into this world."

“Will you do me a favor?” She asks quietly, eyeing Juan as he turns into the couch and gives you his back. He’s already snoring lightly so she’s not worried about him overheating. “If something happens…..” This is the first time that she’s ever said anything out loud and her eyes are anxious. “I’ve signed the paperwork already, but if something happens, I don’t want to stay on machines.” She whispers. “Promise me that you’ll help him let go. And if it’s me or the baby…you know what I want you to choose.”

“Nothing is going to happen.” As firmly and sternly as you can, you squeeze your best friend’s fingers in yours and bite back the instant tears that spring but behind your eyes. The fact that this conversation is even necessary is heartbreaking, but women die in childbirth every single day. Nothing is going to happen. You almost shake with determination but that isn’t what she needs right now. The person who means the most to you in the world besides Marcus is looking you in the face and asking you to be loyal to her. And you will. “I promise.” Two small, devastating words. But if she’s thought this far ahead, she’s also had another thought. “You have a will somewhere?”

“In the safe at home.” She nods, relieved that you are not fighting her and it’s obvious on her face. She had expected an argument, she knows she would have gotten one from Juan, which is why she chose you as her medical POA. “The papers are in an envelope in my bag.” She nods towards the incredibly organized hospital bag.

“Okay.” You nod, still holding her hands tightly. “I love you. I will honor your wishes. Now tell me which onesies you packed to bring her home in so you can get excited again.”

“All of them.” Sydney snorts, only half kidding. “There are twelve that I couldn’t decide between, so I brought them all. Figured we would decide which one looks best when we are holding her.”

“We can absolutely decide later.” She’s already a little sweaty at the top of her forehead from the contractions and you nudge a cup of melted ice chips toward her just to cool her down. “Do you have a top three?”

“The ones in the right hand pocket.” She takes the cup and starts to gulp down the cool water.

In the right hand pocket of Sydney’s neatly packed hospital bag, three folded baby onesies await their new owner: one from her mother in law covered in little surfboards and ocean waves and sunglasses to represent how much Juan had loved surfing when he was out in California. One from Syd’s sister AnnaLeigh with Once Upon a Time…a Heroine was Born written out like the beginning of an illuminated fairytale, and one from you and Marcus emblazoned with the logo of Syd’s favourite hockey team to get her baby girl started out right. “They’re fantastic choices,” you hum, looking at the clothes with misty eyes.

“You see why I couldn’t choose?” She laughs, shaking her head and setting down the rest of the ice chips to melt. Seriously not understanding why they just wouldn’t give her water. Labor is fucking thirsty work.

“I think I like AnnaLeigh’s,” you admit, before tucking them back into the bag as carefully as they had been before. “But we’ll see how she feels about them when she’s here. Who knows? She might come out the chillest baby in the world and then we now she matches Juanito’s surfer phase.”

“Juan actually likes that one too.” She admits with a grin. “He’s so fucking excited for this baby to come. He swears if he could carry her for me, he would.”

“He totally would have if he could.” The grin on your face breaks wider, and you sit back on the edge of Syd’s bed with her. “So would Marcus. In a heartbeat.”

“How did we get so fucking lucky?” Her eyes mist up, overwhelmed with the beautiful thought of both of you so happy and cared for with your soulmates.

“I truly have no idea.” The mist in her eyes halts for just a moment as another contraction hits, but it doesn’t fade. It doesn’t dim. Syd’s happiness is true, and you’re so grateful to see it. “Thank god they get along though. We’d be screwed if our soulmates weren’t friends.”

Panting, she leans back and rubs her belly. “We would make them be friends.” She jokes. “The most awkward small talk over beers until they find a common interest.”

“Lucky for us?” You sit forward and help her readjust her pillows from where they had fallen out of place. “They’re basically as inseparable as we are again.”

"Lucky for us." She agrees, leaning back with a sigh and smiling at you. "Thanks. You know what I need before I do sometimes."

“For most of the time we’ve known each other, I’ve been shocked that we aren’t soulmates.” At some point in your teenage years you had discussed it, but your appendicitis scar already existed and she has never born that. “I gotta be honest, I used to be bummed that we’re not. But when you met Juan, I understood why.”

She kisses the air in your direction. "Because you had Marcus waiting on you, too." She reminds you. "We are better than soulmates. We are sisters by choice."

“I would have waited forever for him.” She gets the same air kiss from you, and you descend into giggles together. “We really are lucky.”

The giggles are interrupted by another contraction, making Sydney hiss and squeeze her eyes shut as she tries to breathe through it. Coming out as more of a whine until the pain passes again. "They- They are getting closer." She huffs when she can talk again.

“We’re down to eight minutes and sixteen seconds apart,” you tell her, checking your watch. “You’re doing awesome, Syd.”

“I can’t believe it.” She grunts when she gets a foot in her rib. “I don’t know whether to be impressed that it’s going so fast, or cry because I’m not further along.”

"You're allowed to be both, you know." Frankly, you're both. She is progressing quickly but you know she would rather have just arrived fully dilated and ready to go. "Just remember. At least she's not dragging her heels like Junie did."

“I don’t know how your mom did it.” She huffs, thinking about your mother and how excited you had been for a younger sister. “She was still working while in labor.”

"My mother is some kind of weird combination of feral cryptid being and absolute machine," you chuckle, shaking your head. "If I'm trying to do bookings and make staff schedules during labor, please slap me."

Huffing out a laugh, she grunts and rubs her belly again on the side. “Done.” She pants. “But get me my notebook.” She points to her bag. “I just thought about a salted Carmel mocha crème brûlée.”

“I am only agreeing to this because it will take your mind off the pain.” Still, you dig into the pocket opposite the onesies she has earmarked as favorites and come out with her battered and beaten recipe notebook. “It sounds like it will be nice to send to your sous chef.”

“It sounds like something I want to eat right now.” She groans, flipping open the tatty cover and laying it on her baby bump to quickly write down her idea.

“You’re going to be a little distracted and busy for a while,” you remind her. Still you can’t help but grin at her tongue poking out from between her teeth as she scribbles.

“Doesn’t mean I’m not hungry.” She moans pitifully after finishing the notes. “I was in the middle of getting a snack.” The pout that pushes her lips out would be comical under different circumstances but she’s horribly disappointed to have not gotten to eat before being bustled into the car by her frazzled husband.

“What was snack time tonight?” It is absolutely always the way to distract her when she’s feeling bad, and tonight is All Sydney All the Time, so you’re focused in one her.

She groans and whimpers slightly at the food she had to leave on the counter. “Cottage cheese with fresh peach compote and balsamic glaze.” She pouts even more. “It was going to be amazing. But I had to tell Juan that I was cramping.”

“I’ll make sure there’s plenty in your fridge waiting for you when you get home.” You can promise her that, along with their fridge and freezer being fully stocked with ready-made meals and easy to use ingredients that should last more than two weeks. Between you and Marcus and Malachi and her staff, you’ve all been secretly helping prep for baby’s arrival for a week already. Even Agent Bailey made a contribution to the frozen meals and added some veggies from her garden.

“Thank you.” She smiles you softly. “I can’t believe that when I leave, I’m going to be holding her.” She admits with a grin.

“She’s almost here.” As if to affirm it, another swift kick to Sydney’s abdomen is brutally obvious, and you grin. “And she’s excited about it.”

The two of you settle into a comfortable silence. Broken by contractions and the quickening of their pace. Sydney trying to be quiet as she pants through them to let Juan sleep.

Checking your watch again and finding nearly two hours have gone by, you tilt your head at your best friend and hand her another strawberry candy. "Marcus should be back soon, and your contractions are barely more than five minutes apart now. I think it's time to wake Dad up and call for the nurse."

Marcus has Juan’s bag in the backseat and he had cancelled the reservations he had made for tonight. They aren’t going to be used, and he had apologized profusely. Still, he stops at the inn to run up to the small gun safe, using the biometric lock to open it and reveal a small ring box. He had been planning to propose tonight, and he still can, it will just look different now.

"It's happening, isn't it?" On his one night shift per week, Malachi had seen you and Marcus hustle out the backdoor of the inn with bags in hand and seen not long after when Marcus reappeared in a hurry. Now he is waiting at the back door once again, but this time to snag Marcus before he can disappear in to the night.

“It is.” Marcus nods with a huge grin spreading across his face. “Juan forgot his bag. I’ll text you when she’s born.” All the staff are invested so he will be sure to let them know. “You’ve got the inn?” He checks, although he knows what the other man will say.

"That baby is your godchild." Malachi smiles surprisingly softly. "This inn is mine."

“I know.” He reaches out and squeezes Malachi’s arm. “Birdie trusts you with her most important treasure.” He praises.

"Not quite." He winks at the other man, considering him a friend now after many months of back and forth, and grins. "She'd never leave me alone with you."

Marcus snorts, well aware of the man’s proclivity to flirt. He matches that grin. “That’s because she knows how persuasive you are.” He jokes, winking at him playfully. “Besides. You are still yearning for your soulmate and will only be happy when he breezes into your life like he’s always been there.”

"Check all those doctors for my ankle tat, handsome." Malachi teases, shooing Marcus toward the door. "A man in scrubs is better than a man in uniform."

“I will.” He gives Malachi a salute and hustles out of the door to speed back to the hospital as quickly as he can.

It's on the heels of a nurse when Marcus comes back into the room, with Juan standing at Syd's side holding tight to your hand while you have been banished to the corner of the room so the nurse can do her work. "It's almost time!" You tell him excitedly, wrapping your arms around him the second he makes his way over to her.

“Holy shit, I made it just in time then.” He can’t believe how fast it’s gone, he had expects at least half a day or more of labor.

"Apparently Constance does not want to wait." The shine of tears in your eyes isn't going anywhere now that you're about to head to the delivery room with Sydney and Juan, but you hug Marcus fiercely. "And I can't wait to meet her. I'm so glad you made it in time."

“Me too.” Marcus presses his lips to yours, letting you cling to him for a second before you pull back. “Does she want me there for Juan or should I stay here?”

"Stay here and hold down the fort for us? She's going to be exhausted when it's all over but she's nervous about everything being okay in the room while we're gone." Wishing so dearly that this was your night only makes you smile because you know that it's only a matter of time.

“Absolutely.” Marcus nods and looks over at Juan and Sydney. “I’ve got everything here. You go meet your daughter.”

"We'll be back soon." Juan is beaming, practically hopping around, and looks like he might jump out of his own skin if given the chance. "She's almost here!"

Marcus laughs at the bubbly excitement, watching as the nurses wheel her bed out, with you and Juan right on their heels as she’s transferred over to the delivery room. “And now…” Marcus pulls out the ring box and flicks it open to look down at the gorgeous ring. “We wait.”

It's over an hour before anyone comes back into the room, and when it happens it's just you alone with a look of exhausted panic on your face. "Everyone's okay." The first words out of your mouth, but you murmur them while shaking slightly and bolting into his arms, so it isn't terribly reassuring.

That doesn’t sound reassuring, coupled with the desperate way you cling to him. Marcus folds you into his embrace tightly.

“She was breech…” Sniffling through the explanation and clinging to him even harder is about the best you can do right now. “And they couldn’t get her to turn. Then—then they did an ultrasound and figured out that—” The shudder that runs through you is all-encompassing. “She had her umbilical cord around her neck. So they had to do an emergency c-section.” The shaky breath you exhale as you lean back is enough to make him quake right along with you, but he holds you steady. “And then the placenta ruptured after they brought the baby out and—and Syd just kept bleeding—”

“Oh shit.” Marcus whispers in horror, his heart plummeting to his feet and he swallows harshly. “But they are both okay?” He had heard you say they were, but he needs the confirmation.

“They’re both okay.” You can barely manage to nod, tears spilling over for yet another time. “They took Constance to the NICU and Juan is with Syd in recovery until they okay her to come back here.”

“Thank God.” Marcus breathes out softly. “Hopefully Syd is asleep? I know she would be frantic if Constance isn’t with her after that.”

“Awake, but exhausted.” You’re still gripping his leather jacket, refusing to let go. It had been warding off the chill in the air conditioned room but now it’s your life line. “They let her hold the baby for a few minutes before they whisked her off to the NICU.”

“How is she?” Marcus asks quietly, worrying about the baby. “Could we sit with her in the NICU?”

“The doctor said not to worry.” Though you sniffle again, clearly very concerned. “That she’s seen babies in far worse condition come through it totally fine. But they wanted her in a place where they can help immediately if they need to.” Two tears leak from your eyes but you brush them away with the back of your wrist and try to breathe. “They’ll come down and tell us in a little while if she can come be with Sydney or if we’ll be allowed to visit the NICU. For now we just gotta—we gotta stay put. That’s why Juan wanted me to come tell you.”

“Then that is what we will do.” Marcus promises, rubbing your back gently. “I’ll wait to pick up her sushi, hmm?” He wants you to decide that is the best option because he’s not leaving you right now. Not for anything in the world. He’s already reached out to his team to let them know he’s out of pocket for right now.

“Until after she gets some sleep.” You nod against his chest and wrap your arms around his waist for a sturdy anchor. “This is…not a celebrating time. The only thing worth celebrating is the fact that they’re okay.”

The ring he had planned to give you tonight burns a hole in his pocket, but he hums in agreement, pressing his lips to your head. “I completely agree.” He murmurs softly. “We will just make sure that they are in perfect health.”

“I love you so much.” The sheer relief of having him in your arms now after nearly losing your best friend — both of them meaning more to you than life itself — is unspeakable. “And I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He promises. “I think I’m going to text the group that mom and baby are resting comfortably and we will make the announcement later?” He asks. “I don’t want people to bug Juan or worry.”

“I think that’s probably a good idea.” The last that the baby arrival group chat had heard, Syd was being wheeled to the delivery room. They deserved an update.

“Why don’t you go into the bathroom and wash your face, sweetheart?” Marcus urges. “Change into your comfy clothes and I’ll send out a text.”

“I’m too anxious to sleep, but I’ll wash up and change.” It seems like it will make you feel less frazzled, and therefore more on your game to help your friends. “But if you need to lie down, you should. I’ll wake you up when the nurse comes in with news.”

“I won’t sleep.” Marcus is too focused on you, too in tune with your nervousness to ever nap. Not right now.

“Then change with me and settle in,” you suggest instead, knowing that if your positions were switched you would feel the same. “It might be a long night.”

Marcus nods. “I can do that.” He promises, rubbing your shoulders and moving towards the bags. “If you want to take a quick shower, no one would blame you.”

“I think I’ll save that trick for refreshing myself in a few hours from now.” Predicting that you’ll need it, you kiss him now and slip off to the adjacent bathroom with your overnight bag to change.

Marcus pulls out his phone and calls down to the florist department that is on the ground floor of the hospital, wanting Sydney to come back to a lovely bouquet.

Wash your face. Change your clothes. Try not to break out crying again that you almost had to put that conversation with Syd a few hours ago into action. By the time you come out of the bathroom in Marcus’s old FBI Academy sweatshirt and a pair of yoga pants, your shoulders are drooping and your feet are dragging but at least you’ve stopped crying.

“Oh sweetheart.” While you had washed your face, Marcus had changed out in the room. “Come lay down with me on the sofa/bench thing.” He urges, reaching for you again.

“The Dad Bench.” Curling up into his side immediately, you lay your head on his shoulder and breathe out another sigh. “After you left, she made me promise to make the decision if something went wrong,” you tell him quietly. “Juan would never be able to…and she knew…that if she made me promise. I’d do what she wanted.”

He had been stroking your arm, fingers freezing as he absorbs the implication of that statement. “I’m glad it didn’t come to that.” He closes his eyes and sends up a prayer of thanks and continued good health to whomever might hear him. He doesn’t wish that on anyone, least of all his soulmate and one of his best friends.

"It almost did." Tears come again, fresh and few, but they are definitely there. "The only other time I've heard Juan pray in Spanish was when his mother had a heart attack a few years ago."

“I would be praying in every fucking language I could if it were you.” Marcus whispers. “To every God ever imagined.”

"Everyone is okay." Having to remind yourself of it fairly often seems...fairly reasonable, all things considered. You had stood at your best friend's side and looked her and her soulmate in the eyes as the doctors worked to control her bleeding. As she lay on a table with the distinct reality that those would be the last moments of her life.

But no. Everyone is okay. And soon they'll send her downstairs so she can rest comfortably, and they'll bring little Constance to her to have joyous moments with her family instead of fearful ones.

“Everyone is okay.” He echoes softly. “But…I asked the nurse for a rollaway bed for you.” The nurse had slipped into the room to check on you while you had been in the bathroom, before he had changed. You had just walked into the other room and closed the door, in fact. He had thought it would be best to prepare for you to not leave this room anytime soon.

"Did she say anything else?" No news is good news most of the time when you're in a hospital, but if Marcus got to speak to a nurse you want to know everything.

“She said that momma and baby should be in here by the time visitor hours start.” He couldn’t get a timeframe beyond that, but he took what he could get.

"That's..." Turning your wrist to check your face, the dial reads just after four in the morning. "That's about four hours. And I know Juan won't be down without them. So...I guess we should settle in?"

“Of course.” He doesn’t move, just continuing to hold you. Feeling you relax against him slowly.

"I guess...rain check on date night sex?" You huff weakly, trying for a joke. By this time of night on a date night you would normally be fast asleep – and very naked – in each other's arms.

“A rain check with you is better than any legal tender.” He jokes back, smiling softly even though he had hoped it would be engaged sex.

"What a night." The longer that you sit with him, the calmer you get. It's such an enormous thing for you, to have someone to anchor you as well as he does, and you sigh again as you deflate just a little more into his side.

“Not exactly how I imagined the night going.” Marcus admits with a small sigh. He’s not unhappy, he just wishes the birth hadn’t been so traumatic for everyone.

"Tell me what we were going to do tonight." Thinking about absolutely anything else seems like a very good idea right now, and while you know it was already late when you were leaving the apartment, you also know that Marcus had made plans for tonight.

“I had booked us a late table at Kingbird.” He tells you, smiling at the fact that Sydney had pulled the strings to get the reservation. “It was supposed to be the last table of the night.”

"The restaurant at the Watergate?" Your eyebrows raise when you look up at him and you're practically pouting. "I've been dying to try that place."

“I know.” He had asked and there was a list of places, but he had chosen that one to immortalize as special for the two of you. “And booked us a room at the hotel.”

"Shit." The pout on your lips deepens when you realize how much work Marcus had put into the night, only for it to be interrupted. "I'm so sorry, love. We'll have to reschedule everything. It sounds like it would have been beautiful."

“This is more important.” Marcus insists. “Don’t apologize. This is where I want to be, with you.”

"I don't think I could make it through tonight without you." It would be too much to handle on your own. With such deep emotions entangled in every second of the night, without your anchor you might have just flown apart. "I don't like the idea of doing anything without you anymore."

“You would have, sweetheart.” Marcus knows that, you are so damn strong. So much stronger than you ever believe about yourself. “I know you would have, but you don’t have to.” He stresses. “I’ll be here for you. Support you, comfort you. Celebrate your success and mourn your losses with you. I’m right here.”

"There are no losses to mourn tonight." And you'll be thanking every deity out there for any part they may have had in it. And also making sure that you note down the name of Sydney's doctor for your own pregnancies, because that woman worked quickly and thoroughly and without hesitation to make sure that both mother and baby made it through a birth that would have killed them both in decades past.

“We celebrate life.” He agrees softly. “And love. That little girl is loved so much already.”

"She's beautiful." And of course, there's a sniffle again. At least this one is happy and relieved. "Syd's big eyes and Juan's dark hair."

“Juan is going to be miserable when she gets older.” He laughs quietly. “She’s going to be gorgeous.”

"If she's anything like her mom, she'll have her head too far in the clouds to notice any of the boys or girls chasing her," you laugh along with him, remembering Sydney in high school. "Syd never had any clue how sought after she was."

“She was waiting for Juan.” It’s a bit of a romantic stretch, but it could also be the truth. “Plus she was too in love with crème brûlée. No mere man could compare.”

"She was dreaming about a caramel mocha one while you were gone." The maddening fear is starting to subside, finally, and you sink ever more deeply against Marcus on the bench. "I swear I'll make them for her every day for the rest of her life after what happened tonight."

“See?” He smirks to himself. “She loves them and I’ll help you. I can take the next week off, help with the inn and let you focus on Sydney and co?”

"You don't have to do that." It's a lot to ask of him, and you know that even though he has plenty of vacation time, you were planning on taking a trip down to Texas to spend New Years with his parents. "It's a deeply appreciated gesture, though."

“I don’t mind.” He protests, although he had been certain you would not let him do that for you. “I hope you know that.”

"I know, my love." In his lap, your fingers find his and tangle your hands together. "Why don't we wait on that decision until we see how Sydney and the baby are doing? I don't want you to take extra days out when I know you had been wanting to do other things with them in the next few months."

“Alright.” He will do what you want, let you lead this but he won’t let you exhaust yourself trying to carry everything. “Hopefully they will deliver the flowers I ordered before Syd comes back into the room.”

“You ordered flowers?” Sometimes you really feel like the things he does are magic, from small to large the gestures of love and support are always so deep that it seems impossible for him to not be the Superman of emotional support. “Honey, you’re—you’re too good. Too all of us.”

Marcus snorts. “My mother insisted we order flowers from her and dad, before this all went sideways.” He adds. Wanting you to know the context. “But Sydney just went through a traumatic childbirth. Flowers are the least I could do in order to make her feel loved and special.” He had ordered the flowers his mother wanted and then ordered other arrangements, including a welcome bouquet for Constance herself.

“Everyone is okay.” More reassuring this time, the words still come out in a hush and your eyes drop from Marcus’s for a moment before fluttering back up. “Thank you for being you,” you murmur after a moment. Marcus is that supportive and bolstering friend and family member. This is just who he is. And you’re so entirely grateful to have him here with you, especially right now.

“I don’t know if I would thank me for that.” Marcus teases, leaning in and kissing your forehead again. “But you can always count on me, hummingbird.”

“I know I can. And I’m thankful for that.” More than you could ever say. More than any words you have.

“Close your eyes.” He orders softly. He knows you are exhausted and emotionally spent. You need the rest so you can care for Sydney, Juan and the baby when they are back in this room.

“I can’t guarantee I’ll sleep.” Though you’ll try, knowing that the nurse doesn’t expect Sydney or the baby to be able to come down for at least a few hours.

“I know. Just closing them will be good.” He murmurs softly, still rubbing your back when you shift to lay across him. “You’ve been crying.”

“You would have been proud of me,” you murmur, settling against him one more time and shutting your eyes. “I kept it together until after everything happened.” It was shock, probably, but you still managed it. “Therapy is going to be a doozy this week.”

“Yes it will.” He won’t deny that or try to minimize your feelings. “You don’t need to skip it.”

“I’m absolutely not going to skip it.” Not this week, of all weeks. Not at all. The heaviness of the night is tugging at you, not for sleep but for rest, and for the first time you think you actually might be able to calm down fully as long as you can stay in Marcus’s arms.

Humming in approval, he doesn’t speak, letting the silence draw between you and waiting for your breathing to start slowing down.

The nap lasts about two hours. Two hours held tight in Marcus’s arms on that padded bench, and when you shift against him the small sound of noncommittal discomfort and surprise is enough to tell you that he fell asleep too. Good, you think, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Everyone deserves a reset tonight. Even little Constance.

Marcus wakes quietly, as soon as you move, and he slowly remembers that he’s not in your bed. Both of you are at the hospital. He hums and sighs softly, knowing it hadn’t been a long nap, but it will do wonders for the coming hours.

"Hey handsome." The room is quiet and so are you, sitting up to stretch beside him and bring your limbs back to life.

“How did you sleep?” Marcus asks softly, watching you through heavy eyes.

“Better than I thought I would,” you admit, though you have a feeling that’s only because you didn’t sleep deeply enough for nightmares to set in. “You?”

“Pretty good nap.” He yawns. “Although I know I’m going to have to get coffee for all of us.”

Checking your watch, you stretch again and knock against his side with a lopsided grin. “The cafeteria should be open soon. I have a map of the hospital in my bag so you won’t get lost.”

“Just for that, I’ll bring you two coffees.” He groans, standing up and stretching out. “I should get dressed.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t be the only visitor to go get coffee in your jammies.” Far from it, if you had to hazard a guess.

He snorts slightly. “I don’t doubt it. But I would hate to steal any of Juan’s new dad thunder.” He jokes, winking at you.

“Juan will be doing everything in bespoke suits with giant buttons that exclaim New Dad! for everyone he meets.” It’s sweet to think about, now that the fear is mostly past. It won’t wither entirely until you get to see mother and baby, but that should be soon.

“Of course he will.” Marcus laughs. “He’s already got an app on his phone that is just for organizing pictures of the baby.”

“Make sure you get the name of it,” you tease, leaning over to kiss him and getting one last stretch in — right into his arms. “We’ll need that for our kids, I’m sure.”

“You know it.” Marcus grins. “I’ve already downloaded it. It also has a wedding portion of the app. Basically you can upload all your important moments in it.” He doesn’t mention that he had set it up for the proposal that didn’t happen last night.

“You think of everything.” He really does, so it’s barely even an embellishment. At this point you’re just relieved that you can think of small things again instead of the larger, overhanging fear of just a few hours ago.

“Not everything.” Marcus snorts, winking at you. “Otherwise, I would have had coffee delivered by now.”

“Mostly everything, then.” One more kiss and you pull back to get your things sorted out around the room. “I’m going to tidy up a little and get out a couple of comfort things for Syd. So when she comes down she’ll have her favorite cardigan and things like that.” Absolutely anything you can do to soothe your best friend’s hellish night, you’re going to.

“That sounds perfect.” Marcus agrees. “I’ll go grab the coffee. What do you want, sweetheart?”

“Just my usual.” Your hum of appreciation is more relaxed than it would have been earlier in the night. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too.” He promises as he quickly starts changing into the clothes he had brought.

Marcus is gone for about a half an hour before the door to the room opens again, but when it does it's Juan there – holding the door open wide as one of the overnight workers from the transport department wheels Sydney's bed back into the room with her nurse hot on their heels.

“We are back.” His tone is exhausted but elated at the same time. It’s been a sleepless night for him. Afraid that he would close his eyes and Sydney would be gone.

"How are you feeling, honey?" You're at Sydney's side as soon as the nurse is done getting her settled. The woman has the patience of a saint and excuses herself to go retrieve Constance, who is being allowed to leave the NICU.

“Tired. Sore.” She admits with a quick, tired smile. “Impatient to hold my daughter.”

"She'll be down soon." Glancing at the door where the nurse has disappeared to bring around that same little girl, the warmth in the room starts to grow exponentially. "Marcus went to get coffees. And I'll bring sushi for lunch. Cross my heart."

“I don’t know if I’m hungry.” Sydney admits with a slight shrug. She’s still a little disoriented from the drugs. “But coffee sounds amazing. I could sleep for days.”

"Then we won't worry about food right now. But Marcus is bringing back coffee for you, and he should be back very soon." You grin at your friends and send them both a conspiratorial shrug. "I sent him with a map, otherwise you know he would have gotten lost."

Juan laughs as he fuses over Sydney, hovering as if she might disappear if he steps too far away. “He should have been a Lieutenant in the military, as bad as he is.”

“I’ve just learned to always have a map for new places or to set up the gps in his car without asking.” It’s a quirk, and you all have them, but Marcus’s ability to get lost almost anywhere is a standing joke between the four of you and it’s so, so good to hear Syd laugh. Even if it’s only a little, it’s completely worth it.

The knock on the door comes just a moment later and Marcus pokes his head in. “Oh you’re here!” He brightens up and pushes the door open, the delivery person from the flower shop hot on his heels. “I was hoping to get all this inside before you did.”

“We just got back.” Syd is groggy for sure, but not so badly that she doesn’t register the tray of coffees and bag of food with the hospital’s cafe logo on it that you jump forward to snag from him and the delivery of flowers that comes in behind him. With the tension and fear of the last few hours and all the emotions and hormones still raging in her, Sydney is immediately in tears. “You—you got flowers?” She half-squalls like it’s the kindest and most loving thing any person has ever done in the history of time. For her, especially right now, it definitely feels like it.

“Ohhhh don’t cry.” Marcus frets slightly, even though he’s pretty sure that they are happy tears. “I wanted you and Constance to have a beautiful reminder of how loved you both are.” He walks over to the recovering woman, that he now regards as his friend, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “More are coming too.” He promises.

“It’s so sweet!” Syd huffs between large tears, hugging Marcus as tightly as her recovering body will permit. “You’re so sweet.” Even after we interrupted your plans, she thinks loudly, but manages not to say it. She knows what last night was supposed to be and she hated having to call when she knew Marcus was about to sweep you out the door.

“You deserve nothing but happiness right now.” He promises, looking over at Juan and squeezing Sydney gently before he pulls back and moves over to the new father. “Congratulations.” He is somber, aware of what the agony of the night had done to his friend.

“It was a hell of a night.” Juan pulls Marcus in for a hug — something the two men need right now for grounding, but Juan also murmur, “And sorry for the timing” to Marcus before pulling away.

“Don’t ever worry about that.” Marcus insists. “Doesn’t matter if I was in the middle of it, we would have been on our way.” Yes, proposing to you and giving you a beautiful moment is important to him; but some things are always much more important and this is at the top of that priority list.

“We’ll make it work.” Juan promises quietly, glad to see you absorbing Sydney in conversation while she marvels at the flowers that Marcus ordered.

“How’s Constance doing?” Marcus asks quietly, not seeing the bassinet in the room. “Will she be released from the NICU soon?”

“Our doc said she’s stable, so she can come down and have some family time and be fed.” As a brand new father of only about two and a half hours, that has Juan both puffing out his chest and teary with pride. “The nurse should be bringing her down now.”

“That’s great!” Marcus grins, knowing that both mama and daddy will feel better with their newborn daughter in their room.

Having settled Sydney with her coffee and treat — Marcus brought muffins back from the cafe — you excuse yourself to the bathroom and feel like you can finally breathe. Syd is here. You can hear her muffled laughing through the door. And the baby will be down soon. Everyone is okay.

“Looks Marcus…” Sydney’s voice is hushed and he can tell by her guilty expression what is coming. “Please, don’t apologize again.” He begs her softly. “There is nothing to apologize for.”

“I can call Kingbird,” she offers immediately. Explain it was my fault you had to cancel and get you a new reservation.”

“No.” He shakes his head and glances back at the bathroom. “I don’t think she’s going to be leaving your side for quite awhile and I cannot in good conscience try to convince her otherwise.”

He insists that she shouldn’t apologize more but Sydney still feels like she ought to, pursing her lips until she eventually tilts her head to look up at the men standing side by side at her bed. “You could still do it tonight if you wanted to,” she offers. It’s technically morning now — past six, anyway — but she hasn’t gotten any sleep yet so everything blends together. “It…” she blows out a sigh. “I know it wasn’t the easiest night.” For her especially. “But it would be nice to have Constance’s birth surrounded by happiness. Instead of what might have happened.”

Marcus considers it for a moment, frowning slightly and he bites his lip. “That is— are you sure?” He would never want to take away from Constance and her birth.

Sydney sits back in her hospital bed and takes Juan’s hand, letting him anchor her the way you always do with Marcus. “I don’t want the only thing I remember about the day my daughter was born to be that both of us almost died,” she admits quietly, knowing it’s a little selfish to ask him for this but also knowing that the happy memories you make together mean everything to the four of you.

He can understand that and he bites his lip. “Then….what do you think about me proposing here?” He asks. “It’s not the most romantic setting, but I think under the circumstances, it’s the best place to do it.”

“There’s flowers and best friends and I know you brought her back her favourite muffin.” Juan chuckles, feeling a bit misty eyed over more good things happening. “What’s more romantic than that?”

“Maybe we can do something that involves the baby?” Marcus suggests.

“I will squall.” Sydney warns, already tearing up all over again. “But quickly before she comes back…wrap the ring box in the baby blanket?”

“Perfect.” Marcus dives for the bag that had been packed for Constance and finds the soft baby blanket they had decided to wrap her in while in the hospital. “When the baby comes in, ask her to get the blanket for you.” Marcus tells Sydney.

“If we can keep a straight face,” Syd laughs, but agrees immediately.

Marcus hides the ring box in the folds of the blanket. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“More than.” Sydney promises, right before the bathroom door opens.

You had washed up a little again, refreshing yourself and feeling a little more human while you were in the bathroom. “Did you manage to rest a little while you were upstairs?” Your focus is right back on Sydney but you take a second to give Marcus a kiss of thanks when he hands you your coffee.

“Yes.” She’s still tired and exhausted, but she smiles. “I did, you don’t worry about me.” She huffs, knowing that it won’t do any good. You will fret over her just like Juan will. “Looking forward to sushi later.”

“We’ll have a sushi party and baby girl can get milk drunk like a party animal.” Making the best of what had been a nearly calamitous situation is good for everyone’s spirits right now. You help the guys set up a little area as a breakfast ‘table’ for the three of you and set Sydney’s things on her tray. It’s about time for the morning shows that Juan loves so the tv goes on, and seconds later the nurse enters with her bundled up charge yawning as loudly as her little lungs can manage.

“Oh my god.” Marcus coos as soon as he sees the little angel in the flesh. She is perfect and nothing will convince him otherwise, falling in love with his goddaughter in a split second. “She’s so precious.”

“She’s perfect.” As expected, Sydney and Juan are both in tears all over again, and the nurse who helped Sydney get comfortable upstairs makes sure Mom and Dad have everything they need before bowing out to let the family bond.

“She’s beyond perfect.” It’s all you can do not to cry with them, looking at your best friend and goddaughter together.

“Isn’t she?” Sydney completely agrees as she finally gets to hold her newborn daughter. Completely in awe of how perfect she is.

The room is practically full of the sound of smiling, whatever that really is, but you end up half-laughing under your breath and looking to Marcus with fresh water behind your eyes. "I want one too," you laugh, overwhelmed with absolute joy and love.

He laughs at your eagerness, the yearning and knows that you are only partially joking. “I don’t know if we could top how perfect she is.” He admits with his own chuckle.

"Maybe not." The only possible place for you to be right now is snuggled into his side and you tuck yourself in there to just stare at your goddaughter together. "We can't know until we try, though."

Sydney spares a glance at Marcus, who nods as he holds you close. “We have to get through a few other things first.” He reminds you.

"I know." You hum when he presses a kiss to the top of your head and sigh again. "I just love her so much and I wanna give her everything. Including playmates."

Sydney coos at Constance and cuddles her closer. “Birdie, would you get me her baby blanket?” She asks softly. “From her bag? I want her in the things we picked out.”

"Yeah, of course!" You hop to immediately, slipping out of Marcus's arms to go to the bag Sydney packed. The baby blanket from Sydney's parents is folded near the top. It's a light thing, a beautiful hand knitted piece done in their chosen color of green and then embroidered with the initials CMB for Constance Marie Badillo.

The blanket slips a little in your hand when you pick it up, and when you go to right it a small but weighty something falls out from the center. The realization that it's probably something that Juan tucked away as a surprise for Sydney has you tucking it back inside quickly and handing over the blanket like you're suddenly holding a hot potato.

Sydney hadn’t been expecting you to hand over the blanket so fast so she pushes towards you again for a moment. “Hold it please.” She requests, knowing you will do anything. She has to give Marcus time to get into position.

"Of course," you agree again, bobbing your head on a nod. Glancing over at Juan makes you wonder if you should do something to help, like opening up the blanket so she can see the little jewelry box or something. Maybe hold it sort of presentationally? You can't quite make up your mind and end up clutching the blanket to your chest in surprise when you hear Marcus clear his throat and whirl around to see him down on one knee in the middle of the little hospital room.

That jewelry box was definitely not for Sydney...

“Before you panic, I have the happy new parent’s permission.” Marcus promises as he reaches for the hand that is not clutching the blanket protectively. “And today is a celebration. Of life, and love.” He tells you softly.

"Oh my god." It's just about all you can think to say as you choke on a fresh round of tears and tighten your fingers in his hand.

“I know.” Marcus flashes you a grin. “Sweetheart, there is no one else I want by my side, confiding in, planning for the future and sharing part of my soul with.” He promises you. “I love everything about you and there is not one thing that I could possibly imagine changing. I love your loyalty to friends and family, your work ethic and your tenacity. Your tender heart and your penchant for dreaming.” He takes a big breath, clearly saying your full name. “Will you marry me?”

He can barely finish the question before your thick, cracking voice is chirping endless yeses. Before you're crumpling to your knees to kiss him, cradling the blanket between you as delicately as if the baby was already wrapped in it. "I love you" gets mixed in with all the "Yes!" and more "Oh my god" as if you can't quite believe that it's finally happening. From the moment that the two of you individually became a unit, you've both known that this was the direction you were heading in. But now that you're here? It feels even better than you could ever have guessed.

He knew your answer, he’s known it, but he still giggles in relief and cupping your cheek to kiss you. “I love you.” He promises softly, pecking your lips again and again. He hears both Juan and Sydney sniffling happily and knows this was the right call.

For a moment the room is just happy tears and sniffles and giggling, and you’re both so jittery that you get a little mixed up in retrieving the ring box from deep inside the handmade baby blanket in your arms. Marcus had said he bought your promise and engagement rings together so they would match and of course his decision is perfect — the haloed diamond stands out over heart shaped stones of the promise ring he gave you months ago, and the fact that they’re from him makes them so perfect you could just fall apart right here in his arm.

“It was.” He admits with a modest tilt of his head. “But I think that this might be even better. “Your best friend and goddaughter got to witness it.”

“And your best friend too.” No one who ever ran into Marcus and Juan now would think they had spent so many years apart. They’re more likely to be mistaken for twins than anything else, and actually had been on a dinner out a few weeks ago.

“It makes it better than anything else.” He nods in agreement, looking over at your friends. “We are friends and family.”

“Matron of honor and best man?” It’s hardly a question, but Marcus has slipped the beautifully shimmering engagement ring onto your finger and you glance back over at your tearful friends with absolute joy. “And the tiniest, sweetest, most perfect little flower girl in the whole world?”

“The perfect flower girl.” Marcus agrees with his own emotional chuckle. “And of course they are our matron of honor and best man. What else could they possibly be?”

“Your caterer.” Syd half-complains with a pout, but it’s so half-hearted that she just ends up laughing through the tears. “Get over here and let us hug you two, and meet your goddaughter up close. Obviously we’re going to be whatever you want us to be. All three of us.”

“Not going to happen.” Marcus snorts, shooting Sydney a smile. “You’re going to participate in the reception. But…” he shrugs. “We will let you create our menu.”

“Here we go.” Juan teases, gently taking the baby blanket out of your arms to wrap up his daughter with the already precious heirloom. “Breakfast and wedding planning.” He grins down at Sydney. “I’ll get your notebook and take notes. You focus on our angel.”

Marcus laughs because he knows that’s exactly what will happen. Although there might be a little more cooing over the baby than anything else going on. As it is, he can’t wait to get his hands on her.

“I already know what wedding cake you want.” Syd grins, readjusting in her seat so this conversation can include food for everyone, including little Constance. She’s already gotten her little girl to latch once without a hellish amount of trouble so she’s hoping to do it on her own this time.

There has already been plenty of conversation about Sydney breastfeeding, but Marcus busies himself with his bag while she gets her daughter situated. It’s not because he’s weirded out, just a respect thing, giving the new mother time to get used to being exposed without feeling like she’s in a fishbowl.

“I’m covered,” Sydney assures him, after a few minutes of fussing where Marcus does anything but look directly at her. His respect level is top notch and she appreciates that about him. “Let’s talk food, please? And—” Before she can even ask, Juan is handing her a cup of water and she melts and murmurs a quiet “Thank you.”

“I just wanted to give you some time.” Marcus joins the small group, sitting down when you stand up and pulling you into his lap while Juan sits on the bed with his wife and child. “So right off the bat, what’s your first ideas?” He’s smart enough to know the final menu will be completely different from the first one.

“Americana.” You and Sydney grin at each other and you lean back in Marcus’s lap to sip your coffee while you talk. “Updated versions of classic American dishes.”

“What would that look like?” He asks, frowning in confusion. “Meat loaf?”

“Could be.” Sydney nods. “It could be things like gourmet versions of tv dinners.”

“Or it could be modern versions of older popular dishes,” you nod in agreement. “Like upscale Steak Diane or deconstructed chicken pot pie.”

“Finger foods?” Marcus asks. “I’m sure there will have to be a buffet of canapés.”

“Depends on the events.” Smiling around a sip of iced coffee, you press a kiss to Marcus’s temple a second later. “I’m thinking four.”

“Four events?” Marcus chuckles. “That’s bachelorette party, bridal shower, rehearsal dinner and wedding?”

“Maybe five,” you admit with a sheepish grin. “You said you wanted to have an engagement party.”

“I think that it’s a good place for the publicity your mom wants.” He reminds you.

“Five events is a lot, but if we space them out I think we can manage it.” Looking down at him with an absolute glow on your face, your brand new engagement ring catches the light and makes your chest swell. “What season do you want to get married in?”

“Any one you want.” It’s fair in his mind, he’s been married before and all that matters to him is that you repeat your vows in front of friends and family. What the weather is like doesn’t matter a lick to him. “I guess it depends on how fast we can get it planned?”

“Don’t do less than six months,” Juan warns. His cousin had rushed things to disastrous consequences.

“I wouldn’t.” You can totally agree to that. “My impulse would be to say a year but…I’ve kind of always liked the idea of a summer wedding.” Chewing on the idea, you turn your eyes back down to Marcus again. “Roses stop blooming at the end of the summer.”

“Early fall?” He suggests. “October? It gives us seven months. And you will more than likely have White House help.” He shrugs. “Along with mine, of course.”

“If we did October, maybe I can do a summer bridal shower in the White House rose garden?” Your eyes widen, practically begging. “I would really love to use the rose garden.”

“Then you better make sure your mom doesn’t book it for a tea party.” He teases with a wink, reaching for your hand that now holds his engagement ring. “I think October is perfect. Hell, we could do a Halloween rehearsal dinner.” He jokes.

“Don’t even tease me about that,” you huff. A Halloween event would be exactly your style. “Halloween next year is on a Wednesday, otherwise I would be begging you to get married on Halloween.”

“Baby, if that’s what you want….” He shoots Juan a grin and shrugs. “I’m okay with that.”

“I don’t want to get married on a Wednesday night.” No one parties deep into a Wednesday night in their thirties. It doesn’t feel as special to you. “How about we get married earlier in October and I talk you into visiting the Paris catacombs with me on Halloween night during our honeymoon?”

“That works for me just as easily as anything else.” Marcus promises. “Only thing I care about is you and I celebrating our love and making a public commitment to each other.”

“I love you, too.” If it were just the two of you, you would be getting dressed to run off to a soulmate chapel immediately. But promises have been made and they need to be honored, and every chance to declare your love for Marcus loud and clear is worth taking. “Any Pike family traditions we should keep in mind that I don’t know about already?”

Marcus smiles. “There’s a jewelry set that is passed down to be used in the wedding, if wanted.” He adds. “It was my great, great grandmother’s.”

“Really?” Your expression softens immediately, eyes widening a little, and you nod right away. There is no question in your mind that you’re going to wear it. “Your Mom swore to pass down some family recipes after the wedding but she never mentioned heirlooms.”

“It’s only ever offered after the engagement.” He explains. “We had a certain cousin’s wife - I’m sure you can guess who - think that it was for her to keep.”

When Sydney and Juan look equal parts amused and confused, you snicker slightly. “Hannah has very interesting thoughts about the family,” you tell them, glossing over the few less than kind things Hannah Pike had said either to you or that had been relayed to you. “Which reminds me. I’m absolutely going to ask Selena to be a bridesmaid.”

“Sydney, you will love her.” Marcus promises. “She’ll be flying out every other weekend to help you plan.” He warns you. “Or just staying out here, she can work from anywhere.”

“She’s been thinking about moving,” you admit, barely biting back a grin at how much fun it would be to have her nearby permanently. Marcus’s cousin has become one of your closest friends in the months since your first visit to Texas. “She said she wants to come see what winter is like here to make sure it’s not too bad, but her office is opening a DC branch and asked her if she would be interested in heading up the new team out here.”

“How do you know that and I don’t?” He asks, putting on a faux pout.

“Because she hasn’t told your aunt and uncle yet and she didn’t want it to get back to the family.” That grin of yours becomes full force and you kiss his temple again. “She was trying to save you from having to lie if you got asked.”

“Well, then, you didn’t say anything to me.” He mimes zipping his lips and locking them to throw away the key.

"Probably a good policy," you agree, snickering quietly even as you squeeze his shoulders tightly.

There’s a sense of lazy content in the room. Everyone slowly savors the baked goods that Marcus had brought and sips their coffee. The baby, Constance, is the noisiest of them all, her hungry sucking and grasping one that makes all the adults smile as they look at her every thirty seconds.

She is Sydney’s entire focus, and when the baby is done with her own breakfast there is a little fuss over making sure she’s burped properly before she cuddles up against her mother’s chest to have a post-meal nap. Something that makes Sydney sigh in relief and hold her close. “You’d never know how bad last night almost was by looking at her.”

“Children are resilient.” Marcus muses. “She will never remember her birth and be completely unaffected by it, while it will stay with us forever.”

“All the better.” Sydney soothes one hand over her sleeping daughter’s back.

Marcus watches the loving gesture, almost aching for the time where he can watch you soothe the children you will have together. Will you look as much like Madonna and Child like Sydney does now? He thinks it will be even more profound like undoubtedly Juan feels like it is.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

HHL: @haileymorelikestupid @anoverwhelmingdin @storiesofthefandomlovers @missladym1981 @babeincolor @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

My Masterlist!

[moomoog017]

headcannons ᯓᡣ𐭩 commander wolffe

commander wolffe x gn!reader

Guys this wasn't supposed to be so long... Enjoy!

One of his favorite things to do in private is for you to feel his muscles. Arms, chest, back, whatever it is he adores it. It boosts his ego and makes him feel special. He loves when you dote on how strong he is, it really gets him going. If you're muscular in places he will hype you up and tell you how strong you are. Feeling your muscles and pushing down on them he smirks. "Woah look atchu! So much muscle now (Y/n)!"

When he is in depth in a plan or thought, he comes to you for support and suggestions. When it's battle plans, he likes hearing your thoughts about it and will usually take your advice. He can't help but notice when you drop everything to help him. When it's NOT battle plans he likes to talk about life. He's not a big fan of the past but he will philosophize with you. He's quite the intellectual despite his exterior.

The man is a sucker for you when you take charge of literally anything. He likes it when you challenge his ideas or know something he doesn't. He would never admit it but he likes when you teach him something new. "Give it here, I'll show you." Wolffe rolls his eyes handing over the weapon. "There isn't a weapon I couldn't use." He states as a 'matter of fact. ' You chuckle. "Watch." A smirk crept on your face and you use the weapon with incredible accuracy. Wolffe's eyes widen. A blush is pushed onto his face, "yeah whatever, lucky shot."

Wolffe isn't exactly an empathetic person he's a tough love kinda guy. If you say anything bad about yourself he literally doesn't understand why because when he sees you, you're perfect. He genuinely gets confused and tries to tell you that your statements make no sense and are inaccurate. He will nag you until you think otherwise, if it's a real problem for you he's gonna catch on, he's smart.

If you are forcing yourself to stay awake especially for his sake he will put you to bed. Forcefully if he must. He cares so much and when you're healthy you're happy, that's all he wants for you. He sometimes neglects his health like sleeping for you, he will always provide for you first. He is selfless. "Wolffe! I'm fine." Wolffe sighs, you wanna play? Let's play." His gruff voice and dangerous eyes burning through you. He lunges and grabs you, hoisting you in his arms. Wolffe happily smirks at his victory.

OMFG STRUT YOUR STUFF. HE WILL EAT THAT SHIT UP. He loves when you're confident in yourself it makes him crazy, like bro is barking.

When you're stubborn he's all over you he can't stand it when you challenge him or don't do what you're told he kinda enjoys it but he won't tell you that.

You can't peck him on the lips without him pulling you back and embracing in a passionate kiss, living in war is always risky, one day it's possible he won't come back. He needs to make sure you know he loves you every time him or you leaves.

When you work up a sweat whether just existing or doing something physically he loses it. Just the smell of you makes him wanna grab and make out with you. ESPECIALLY if it's sparing with him.

Wolffe is always grateful when you give him stuff but no matter how expensive or cool it is nothing beats the experiences you guys have together. He will remember those forever and they mean so much to him.

He has developed this habit of grabbing your cheek and pinching it. He doesn't do it hard but it's a way for him to say 'I love you' without saying it in front of the other men. He gets a little embarrassed sometimes, he's got to maintain his tough guy image.

At first he was self conscious about his scar, it brings him bad memories but he always plays it off that he doesn't care but it still haunts him sometimes. When you two were close enough to feel comfortable with touching each other, the first place you felt was his scar. He knew he wasn't 'pretty' but you didn't care. He felt the softness of his scar and he felt something he hadn't in a very long time. Security. But when you kissed his scar all the way down his face, he just about lost it. He felt your care and compassion through your kisses and he never wanted it to stop.

Whenever you're passionate he's passionate. He might not show it very well but the way he looks at you says it all. The slight smirk in his face, like it's going to turn into a smile. The scrunch of his eyes shows you happiness. The same goes for when you're fired up because of something, he LOVES when you speak your mind, get a little cocky or sarcastic.

[findmeinthefallair]

Retraumatization vs. Self-Soothing (Part 1)

There will be a Part 2 that focuses on new material from Watching and Dreaming. Warnings: Heavy discussion surrounding how trauma works, mentions of self-harm, suicidal ideation, death, effects of abuse and discussions about therapy (from my perspective as a practicing therapist).

Military training and preparation in Hunter's old life as the Golden Guard did not make room for two aspects of mental health issues: getting retraumatized, and how to self-soothe (which is rooted in relationships, not to be confused with the cognitive clarity that I imagine Belos expects from the elite Emperor's Coven).

Having a clear purpose laid out for him by Belos as a result of enmeshment with his parental figure...is what he was so used to, as evidenced by this line:

He lost that sense of purpose, since Belos betrayed him. It will take much reassurance for him - from external inspiration, and having it be internalized over time - to believe deep down that he is allowed total freedom to decide who he'd like to be.

First off, retraumatization:

You can be triggered but not necessarily experience retraumatization, sometimes it may be a partial episode, sometimes a full-blown episode. It is almost always unavoidable in complex trauma and can happen in unexpected places at unexpected times, even in therapy sessions.

Hunter was clearly retraumatized during his 2nd and 3rd panic attack scenes. In For the Future, I think the two scenes where he rages also count. All those scenes except the 3rd panic attack were partial retraumatization, but the haircut scene seems like a full-blown event where it's pretty obvious he's at risk of seriously hurting himself. He was reliving the unspeakable.

Examples of him being triggered but not retraumatized are when he saved Gus towards the end of Labyrinth Runners, and at the end of Clouds on the Horizon when he failed to save Luz.

I know from my own C-PTSD experiences that the intensity of such episodes can vary: ranging from a small annoying mental prick that is far away enough that I'm not even irritable or noticeably scared, to feeling like my soul has been torn apart all over again.

I personally think the most insidious part of complex trauma is the first number of years of its aftermath, like aftershocks which can be more damaging than the original events. Once you are safe from the immediate danger, grief settles in for real, you begin to see in retrospect how screwed up the events were, and you're in a minefield of painful reminders. Casually taking a second to consciously remember a tiny fraction of the events can be enough to reel you into being retraumatized.

For the rest of Hunter's life, there will be so many bad memories he retains. Some days he might be fine, but there could be days where saying Flapjack's name out loud might be enough for the floodgates to open. He might feel that he'll be fine in opening up to a new group of people about what happened, but once he begins he might find it hard to breathe again. If he's anything like me, he'll also be stricken by a bunch of nightmares about being trapped in places, or about people hating him and acting like he doesn't exist.

Some memories will be more notable than others, one of which is the searing memory of Belos's ultimate display of rejection (wanting to discard him once he asked "What did you do to the other guards?") and of abandoning him:

And I suppose the darkest of all, the muscle memory of the helplessness he experienced during the possession scene:

And the blame he'll inevitably place on himself deep down, despite his efforts to rationalize and convince himself that it was all Belos's doing. He has been tainted with moral injuries that have marked him for life. During life-altering events like this, there is usually a most upsetting split-second that a client can single out when they process it in therapy. It's even used as a narrative device of sorts in shows: here it's when we see the shadow on the ground showing him hurting Flapjack, and off the top of my head I remember it being a significant point in another show I like, The Sinner, which the plot built up towards. In trauma-informed modalities like Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR), the therapist literally gets the client to find this most upsetting mental image as if its a frame to single out in a mental video file, and will then measure how disturbed the client is. This is only done after 1) trust (rapport) can be clearly felt in the relationship between therapist and client, and 2) they get the client to put in a solid amount of practice imagining themselves in a safe space of their own choosing (which is like the opposite of a traumatic flashback: positive and deliberately created, not negative and automatic).

It's easy to identify what sensation Hunter would find the most upsetting:

Anything that might remind him of this tactile experience could open that doorway to feeling retraumatized.

*horrible cracking sound of palistrom wood being damaged* And it's almost like the web of awful reminders (internal and external) he has, will branch out of this worst exact moment.

Therefore his treatment plan would require much tailoring and room for variation depending on what kind of day he is having. A concern that his loved ones would have is of retraumatization like below, that presents the risk of self-harm:

Another concern is the risk of the terrible voice of C-PTSD whispering things to him, the inner critic that might be fed by survivor's guilt:

(E.g. "Why did Flapjack have to be the one to die? It should have been me. I don't deserve my loved ones. Maybe I shouldn't even exist")

or fed by Belos's gaslighting which definitely happened several times offscreen:

And: Hunter wants to learn how to carve palisman, a craft that will bring new meaning and fulfilment as he heals, but which won't be as easy as he'd like it to be.

I was astounded like crazy when looking back at this:

"Palismen bond through emotion. I do not sense any conviction from you." "Emotion" and "conviction"...

both of which are essential components of recovering from trauma.

It couldn't be more poignant to have the character in the show who endured the most trauma (if you count how in his old life, he stole palismen and sent them to their doom, to literally keep his abuser alive), want to be the successor of this craft. I think he will have to embrace "emotion", like never before. And "conviction" about his life direction.

If he ultimately shuts himself down, isolates himself, letting the grief imprison and encase him,

that would be the antithesis of the big speech he gave in Thanks to Them. But I know he'll have the amazing resilience to want to love and connect deeply. And to make sure Flapjack's sacrifice wasn't in vain.

I'm already thinking that whoever his therapist might be (and my god, I 100% say he needs one. I'd rather he not refuse therapy, though maybe he'd need a bit of time before he starts such sessions, because his case desperately requires someone properly equipped to untangle all that trauma).......they ought to establish the following:

Increasing his self-awareness, acknowledgment and acceptance of his mind and body. The frayed feeling of being hypervigilant. The scars covering his body. The talking aspect of the therapy will play a role in attaining this.

Recognizing internal and external trauma-related triggers and cues that may show up in his routine, to actively take self-care measures, e.g. he is unpleasantly reminded of something during an outdoor picnic with the others.

Going through skills such as containment and distress tolerance. Sometimes a therapy session can get scary enough that a client cannot feel safe taking their pain home with them. They can practice containment by visualizing themselves leaving their pain with the therapist for safekeeping. Eventually, the client can hopefully contain the pain themselves and bring it with them wherever they go. Distress tolerance examples include naming all objects of the same colour around you, or doing something nice for another person.

Being familiar with the specific self-care methods that work for him, since this will vary a lot from individual to individual.

In the first number of months learning how to carve in the workshop/wherever he'll be taught, he definitely should not be left unsupervised, not just because of inexperience in carving: but also in case of retraumatization. The simple act of merely touching any palistrom wood on a bad day might be enough to viscerally bring up the upsetting image of Flapjack being harmed.

A guardian figure (current best guess: Camila?) must be briefed on how to be present for him and what to do if he needs help during bad episodes, relapses or other emergencies. Said adult should join in the therapy sessions at times to reinforce trust and safety in Hunter's new world of officially being in a family. An adult is a far better choice because the other kids should not shoulder such a responsibility (i.e. being parentified like what happened to Hunter) as they process their own trauma, though they of course can help in smaller ways.

If he's wanting to make his own new palisman (very high chance that this will be canon), I bet people like Eda might want to run through that with him. It may not appear onscreen but the therapist could also discuss this with him in sessions because it'd be good to think through whether to allow some time to grieve Flapjack first, even down to details like discussing the meaning and intention of creating the new one, does he want the size and feel of the new one to be different, etc. Perhaps he should even bring the work-in-progress carving to therapy where the therapist can check how he's doing in real-time with the tactile experience of touching and feeling the wood in his hands, processing the likely fear he'll have of harming anymore palisman (yes, even the new ones he creates), especially with how things went with Flapjack. The underlying theme would be his new opportunities to create life vs. the trail of destruction he has been a part of via his association with Belos. His own hands have created things, and have not just played a role in damaging and destroying lives.

Looking into the kind of relationship he has with the idea of physical touch, since his body has been violated, since his being was reduced to an object and tool. Forming new associations to exist alongside the old associations, e.g. when carving a new palisman, it'll be a very long time before he'd ever engage in that without Flapjack even crossing his mind, if that's even a possibility. I have a good feeling that a new palisman of his own would naturally help him along in terms of keeping him calm and grounded using physical contact, by filling an additional role as his trauma support animal (Flapjack himself was undeniably an emotional support animal, like a war veteran's therapy dog). Therapy plus his support network could help him hold both the newly forming memories together with the old haunting ones: they can coexist, and logically the general intensity of the traumatic memories will decrease over time.

Biggest of all in my opinion, keeping him from falling into black-or-white thinking and catastrophizing especially re: the grief about Flapjack. Seeing how he is coping with feelings of grief, guilt and shame. He would be feeling guilty, like he is leaving Flapjack behind or like he is choosing to forget him (this pattern is common in bereavement), if he chooses to have another palisman of his own. But he needs to believe he can still make space for Flapjack in a new way, in his life. ("Black-or-white thinking" and "catastrophizing" are from a list of what's called Cognitive Distortions, a handy aspect of the commonly used Cognitive Behavioral Therapy theory, or CBT. You can easily look up the various types with a Google search) Finding ways to honor Flapjack, honor the good memories and integrate the bad ones. In the early weeks it will be a lot for him to remember specific times like this:

without being able to separate them from the worst memories of harming Flapjack, and the potential to spiral into retraumatization will be high. This poor teen might run into the "What's the point?"/"There's no point" depression wall which is a frequent sign of black-and-white thinking in recovering from trauma and grief.

There would be more on the above list for sure, but this is a substantial portion of it.

Next, self-soothing:

Self-soothing has not come naturally to him (yet), but he has had exposure to being soothed by others. There are also great clues that he needs this, such as the plushie he owns and keeps under his pillow.

Gus introduces one form of this to him, the square breathing technique, in Labyrinth Runners. Further practice to improve at self-soothing would be an upgrade beyond the basic actions we do on autopilot. An example of basic body language is Hunter slightly hugging his lower legs and bringing his knees up in front of his chest to feel safe here:

I think the root of him lacking the skills to effectively self-soothe is...he has not experienced secure attachment with a parent/guardian. Attachment theory (devised by John Bowlby in the 1950s and expanded upon in the many years after that period) has to do with how kids develop a sense of security and whether they can bond with and depend on responsive and responsible caregivers or not. There are four attachment styles, three of which are insecure compared to the healthy secure type of attachment. 1.Anxious attachment: Children with this kind of attachment have very high distress when a parental figure leaves and is absent. The kid may show needy behavior and have a low sense of self-worth, and struggle with the tension between craving closeness with others yet feeling they're unworthy of that.

2. Avoidant attachment: This usually means the parent prioritizes the child learning hyper-independence, and may punish the child for naturally asking for help. It would reach the point where such children avoid the parent, and even show no preference between said parent and complete strangers. Later in life, they may stay away from being vulnerable, appear to have high self-esteem but dismiss others' emotions which would lead to relationship issues.

3. Disorganized attachment: This style is where the parent was inconsistent and unpredictable, perhaps being both a source of comfort and fear, so the child's attachment pattern is reflected in a confusing mix of behaviors and being quite on edge. The world and the people in it would feel scary and unsafe for the child.

4. Secure attachment: As you can imagine, such kids would have had their needs attended to by a parent who has a calm, soothing presence.

My hunch is Hunter leans towards the disorganized category, since Belos is terrible like below, sending mixed messages and getting Hunter to fluctuate between seeking attachment and recoiling from it:

This takes us to the most important part of this analysis:

The need for warmth in Hunter's relationships.

A concept not incorporated into a toxic culture like the Emperor's Coven. But which is vital to truly facilitate deep trust, and is essential in what Hunter is looking for most: a family.

And such warmth is something that extends beyond words, detached analysis or a theoretical understanding, all of which are processed by the prefrontal cortex of the brain. It goes deeper into the realm of experiential understanding (and, physical affection is something that definitely lends to formative experiences), feeling trust and security, which of course is more subconscious.

Examples of putting self-soothing into practice include mindful walks, playing with a pet and journaling. Making it a deliberate routine to promote a good ability to self-soothe - not just using it whenever he is retraumatized - would significantly increase its effectiveness e.g. I advocate for Camila giving him a good morning and good night hug every day, and/or giving such hugs before he leaves the house and after he returns home 😭😭😭😭 Something like that being predictable for a C-PTSD survivor can work wonders.

He won't be used to self-soothing immediately but as he grows yet closer to his new family, particularly becoming securely attached to whoever will replace Belos as his guardian, his wounded inner child will be exposed to the warmth needed for healing. Soothing words to calm him on bad days, wonderful heartfelt hugs, to save him over and over again, like Luz's repeated "You're gonna be okay" from this past scene:

This is what he can take with him when he needs to self-soothe without immediate help being available.

It's certainly not the case that just because he lacked these key foundational ingredients in his years being a young scout and the Golden Guard, it means he is too late. Our brains have neuroplasticity, he can learn and still build a foundation with incredible people in his support network.

Plus. Plus! Related to the earlier section in which I speculated on the challenges he's up against when learning how to carve palismen: I have a good feeling that despite the painful memories and uncomfortable associations, plenty of room will be made for much beauty in that environment and profession. I think the creatures he brings to life will love him a ton, and give back the doses of love that he puts out into the world, via his craftsmanship and him providing something so meaningful for countless witches out there. It'll poetically be the opposite of the fear of the palismen he sent away in his old life, and the fear that followed him around like an overhead raincloud because Belos exerted control over him...and I'm a believer in love and fear being opposites. *cue: a mental image I now have of a bunch of adorable squeaking live palismen flocking to him as their creator...like puppies being excited to see an approaching person*

To wrap up, both the concepts explored above tie in with a concept I researched a bit for this analysis: community mental health.

It is defined by the American Psychological Association (APA) as activities that promote mental health that are performed in the community instead of institutional settings. I've experienced this as a peer support volunteer in a mental health charity's cooking and baking group in the past: it's a cool experience that has a distinctly different feel from sitting in therapy sessions, yet it's a good way to boost mental health. Having both in parallel is a powerful combo.

I'd put emphasis on the last bit of that definition, "instead of institutional settings", because early on I already thought to myself that Hunter, a cult survivor, should not be made in any way to feel as though his recovery progress is a test, evaluation or something performative. That might reinforce the sense of long-time isolation in the castle which he believed was normal before he met his friends.

Additionally it might be over-familiar territory for him to attach the notion of success vs. failure (applying that to his recovery process), to his worth. There's a hint of this in his reaction in Thanks to Them to not doing as well during Camila's brief pop quiz. The Emperor's Coven and everything it normalizes is the height of "institution". Lilith is obviously the other character who has been affected enough by Belos and how her mother treated her for so long, to be prone to the same issue. We see it in how she begs Luz for approval when learning how to use glyphs.

Usually therapy feels prescriptive and staged, unless the therapeutic alliance between therapist and client is strong. But sessions are filled with technical wording such as "skills", "management" and the like on a normal basis. Which is why if Hunter attends individual therapy, solely relying on that in isolation will not be beneficial. It must be paired with a healthy dose of community mental health care e.g. events in markets, schools and notable public places that will have a more organic feel to it.

He needs variety in his treatment plan to dismantle the effects of the Emperor's Coven's fearmongering and rigidity. Variety can intuitively and wordlessly convey to him that life is meant to be lived, not survived. An in-between blend that involves a professional setting like individual therapy but also the community element would be group therapy, which I imagine is a given for so many people on the Isles after the great danger passes in the finale.

Belos's tyrannical reign has left everyone on the Boiling Isles with grief and confusion. It has left the worst scars on not just Luz but also Hunter, since the latter previously operated on the same side as Belos, and unknowingly advocated for a cause that he realized was the opposite of what he felt is right.

Community counteracts isolation and reminds Hunter that he is part of something bigger. There will always be spaces in which he can create something new, enjoy laughter as great medicine, and be heard and accepted.

The second and final part of this topic will be uploaded after Watching and Dreaming. I hope this first part was informative to read.

[venriliz]

10 random facts about me

got tagged by @druidberries @alientown @papermint-airplane TY <3

u literally tagged the most boring person but that's probably what half of all people think of themselves, huh? °-° i might regurgitate some of the facts i used for my introduction post in the sims of tumblr community. i wrote a lot so i'll put a cut with the facts below here. °-°

my birthday is the 4th of july and when i was a kid (prolly like 5 or 6) i saw an american parade on the news on tv. after i asked my dad why these people are celebrating he literally told me that they're celebrating my birthday °_° i believed for several years that americans celebrated my fucking birthday bc i wasn't aware of independence day existing lmfao. my dad just loved fooling me V.V he might be dead but i'm still holding that grudge lol.

i'm kinda lucky to be alive i guess? when i was a kid i was hit by a car in what we in germany call "Spielstraße" which is kinda like a street in dense neighborhoods where kids are allowed to play freely and cars aren't allowed to go faster than 7 kph/4.3 mph. i don't now how fast the driver was but it probably was something around 30 kph/18 mph. i didn't have very bad injuries but still °-° i could've died.

i was a typical horse girl as a kid (i still like horses but i'm not riding anymore because i'm a very old 20-something with knee problems lol) and i was fucking INSUFFERABLE abt it.

i don't want to have kids or get married. i'm not one of those people who hate children like i love my nieces and my nephew BUT i have a lot of mental health issues and can't possibly take care of another life if i can barely take care of myself properly, right? marriage to me is just a weird concept. i can totally respect people getting married and if i'm invited to a wedding i'm obviously attending but i personally can't really subscribe to the idea of binding myself to someone with a piece of paper and it then being such a stupid process when it doesn't work out. also... it costs too much money lol

i have kind of an affinity for finding missing pets (i also photograph every missing poster i see so i guess that helps with recognizing them?)

i was NOT good at school like i kinda sucked and i can probably blame a mixture of mental health issues, trouble at home and also being a lazy teenager that just wasn't really built for school life lol. i barely managed to get the "Mittlere Reife" (if you're german u know what i mean. i could explain what that means but explaining the german school system would take years). english, german and biology were my only good classes. i absolutely hated math like we're lifelong enemies.

speaking of germany, i am from germany or to be more specific from the most northern region nearest to the danish border and i LOVE living here. the north and baltic sea are close to me and people here are usually quite chill. the only thing i don't like that much abt living here is kind of the regional cuisine bc a lot of it is fish and i don't like eating fish T.T

i HATE going shopping (i'm an online shopper °-° EMP my beloved) and my friends just don't take me with them on shopping trips bc they know i'll kill the mood by complaining like a child and wanting to go back home lmfao

the first sims game for me was the og Sims and i almost fried my dad's old ass pc playing it. my first vivid memory of the game was noticing that here and there random houses appeard out of seemingly nowhere. the goths got a new house that didn't fit their vibe for example lol. years later my dad told me that he used to play the game when i was sleeping and just built these houses lmfao. so i guess my dad was an og simmer oO.

i remember 9/11 (yes i'm old enough don't age shame me T.T). i was in kindergarten at that time and just came home from a friends house when the towers fell. i saw it on tv and even though i was very young i understood that a lot of people were getting hurt. definitely had an impact on me as a kid.

yeah that's it. i rambled a lot but yeah °-°

tagging @landgraabbed @olli-online @living-undead @moonwoodhollow @microscotch @crazy-lazy-elder-sims @aniraklova @tiallussims @skaterboi108 @faerun-s @cristalviper @none-of-these-days @fadingforrest @acuar-io @elderwisp @lilamausmaus @simpleratattack @azeterna @butteredfrogs @mmonetsims and everybody else who reads this! HA!

[pomplalamoose]

headcanons: Luke Skywalker and a mentally ill reader🫂🩵

A/N: I received several requests for Luke with a reader that struggles with their psychological health and decided to do one big post instead of three small ones.

Since I'm heavily affected myself I have a hard time talking about it, meaning this will be shorter than what I usually do; thank you for understanding <3

Nevertheless it's an important topic that shouldn't be ignored so here we goooo

Luke comforting you when you're afraid of being a bad Jedi due to your mental illness

• like I often mention, Luke always has an open ear for you

• I think he's especially understanding when you tell him you struggle with your personal image as a Jedi

• because in a similar way Luke often worries about this as well

• is he doing the right thing? Did he make the right choices? He doesn't know

• more often than not he wishes for Obi-Wan or Yoda to be with him still, to guide him

• his insecurities might stem from a different place than yours but in many ways you are able to draw parallels

• just like you he's afraid of not being good enough

• I think he'd let himself be really vulnerable in sharing this with you, hoping that it makes you feel less alone

• he doesn't want you to think you are in any way failing him or yourself

• most importantly though he wants to prevent you from thinking he's without faults

• he wants to give you an opening to relax, to show you that it's going to be okay as long as you're genuinely trying your best

• he does his best and is he not doing a good job?

• he wants to relieve you of the burden of perfectionism

• both of you are human and that is very much okay

• additionally the both of you don't have much information about what a Jedi should or should not be and while that certainly makes things harder, it can also mean a new beginning

• Luke spends a lot of time thinking about the principles and teachings he wants to pass along to a new generation of Jedi

• and I think a big part of that would be to embrace one's nature and being as they are

• some things can't be changed, it's the will of the Force

• in this regard he is big on following his senses and his heart and how could you ever be a bad Jedi if he sees so much goodness in you?

• while it may be hard to see for yourself, Luke will do his best to show you that your personal struggles don't equal being a failure

• mental illness isn't a flaw that makes you less capable or less intelligent

• you are not your mental illness

• it doesn't define you as a person even though it often times feels like it

• he will list many wonderful character traits of yours, trying to convey how others may see you

• he retells situations where you were able to overcome or even use your struggles in order to help another person

• you are allowed to be yourself and he's glad to have you by his side

• he values your opinions and insights

• in many ways you are able to view certain aspects from a totally different point

• with your unique experiences you are able to offer comfort to those in similar situations better than Luke ever could

Not wanting to burden Luke with your trauma

• Luke is familiar with the notion of keeping ones struggles to oneself

• especially when it's done out of consideration for others

• I don't think you'd manage to hide your mental state from him though, not post ROTJ and not when you're force sensitive as well

• he might have been rather blind to his surroundings earlier on, but has long grown past it

• of course he respects if and when you want to open up at all and will put no pressure on you to tell him anything whatsoever

• however I think he prefers his family and friends to be outspoken about how they're feeling

• not only does he want to help but is also aware that it's only going to get worse over time otherwise

• he knows what can happen when one gets lost in an endless maze of the same recurring thoughts

• to be able to realease something into the Force, to let it go, one has to confront it

• how this is done varies for each person though

• you know best where your trauma stems from and only you know what you are able to take on in order to leave it behind

• as much as Luke would love to be able to simply tell you what to do, he can't

• it's a journey everyone has to go on for themselves

• he'll want to be your company though

• Luke is happy to let you take your time

• if the possibility to retreat is important to you, it's what you get

• he wants your healing to come from a place of security and with the knowledge that he's there to catch you when you're not able to do so on your own

• still he remains firm in his believes and will tell you so

• nobody said it was easy, he knows for a fact it isn't and he is ready to be by your side when you are

• depending on your relationship he might give you gentle nudge in the right direction or, alternatively, a kick in the butt if that's what you need

• he won't stand by and watch you destroy yourself

Dilf!Luke realizing you're not doing well mentally

• since he always has his eyes on you, he can tell when something is just a little bit different

• depending on how well you're able to hide your mental condition though, it possibly takes him a while

• unlike is child he can't be around you all the time and during your car rides home the both of you don't talk

• maybe he realizes how tense you grow when a member of your family contacts you

• maybe he overhears parts of a conversation either when you have to take their calls or when you talk with your friend

• I think he'd ask his child if everything's okay with you

• he doesn't want to seem overbearing or like he's invading your privacy

• since they are your best friend they wouldn't tell him any details but maybe mention you're struggling

• again it depends on you as a person

• are you open about your mental health or not?

• if not they will lie for you

• otherwise they know what they can share without revealing too much

• after all it's your decision what you want others to know

• either way he's worried

• he will offer his help right away

• if you need someone to talk to, he's there

• he's not a professional of course but he'll listen! A second perspective can change a lot!

• the house is easily big enough for one more person, he doesn't mind you staying for the night or a few more

• you can always come over when you need space or a place to rest

• he'll look after you

• have you thought about moving out?

• are you making enough money to be independent?

• are you seeing a therapist?

• "Dad please calm down, I can't tell them you said any of this!"

• your friend will give you a watered down version of what happened because they're kinda afraid that you'll be creeped out by Luke's behavior

• you aren't

• in fact there's nothing you want more than for Mr. Skywalker to take care of you

• he may ask you about it himself once you are better acquainted

• if you're comfortable enough to drop a comment or two he definitely catches on to them

• you are welcome to celebrate the holidays with him and his child, you know?

• he's sure they would be more than okay with it too

• it's your choice of course but he'd be happy to have you

[polyhexian]

Ah okay I have an idea for Jasper's mental health journey in Eventually.

I've got two meta reasons for why Jasper should be mostly-mentally-stable. The first is Hunter, obviously; the kid's going through it, and he needs this new parental figure in his life to be, like, okay. As delightful as Jasper's breakdown in MH has been, it would be super bad for everyone involved if his mental health was anywhere near that point in Eventually. The second reason is CAMILA, who just became a mother of 6 and absolutely does not deserve to also be shoehorned into playing therapist for a grown man. I love the idea of Camila and Jasper being friends, and Camila deserves to have a friend who, while definitely traumatized, is also mostly on top of his shit. Once he's no longer unconscious on her couch I think Jasper would be a huge help around the house and with the kids and he and Camila should be the responsible adults supporting EACH OTHER, so we don't want him to be a hidden wreck or a ticking time bomb.

So the first few years after his "death" Jasper reads parenting books as a coping mechanism. It helps him visualize where Hunter's at in his development. Every so often he thinks "he's probably taking his first steps right now" or "he should be speaking with a few words per sentence by now" and it's sad but it helps.

But eventually the baby books run out (is there really much of a market for them past, like, age 5?), and also Jasper is well aware of the fact that he left his child in an extremely bad situation. He knows what Belos is capable of, and while he has hope his kid PROBABLY won't ever see his own spinal cord, he's not stupid enough to think that being called "nephew" will actually protect Hunter from all of it. Child abuse is a thing, and it's a thing that's usually perpetrated by, y'know, family members.

There aren't any books entitled How To Unindoctrinate Your Estranged Child Soldier, but that doesn't stop him. He reads everything he can find on the subject and learns about allllll the things. Physical abuse, emotional abuse, gaslightning, manipulation, CSA. (He hopes to the Titan he won't need to know about that last one, but then he wonders if it'd be preferable to, like, being beaten to the edge of death and dragged back from the brink with healing magic multiple times, and then he just feels awful that he's even trying to decide what the "better" sort of abuse to endure would be.)

And pretty regularly he happens upon a paragraph that is, like, scarily relevant to his own lived experience and he needs to reevaluate some things. Maybe he tries to brush it off, but the more he interacts with Hunter, the less he's able to do that.

Book: Believing that love is transactional is, in fact, a sign of trauma, and not good or healthy.

Jasper: …haha, right, okay.

Hunter, at their next fight: I am LOYAL to Emperor Belos, I OWE him, and I HAVE to keep working hard so he'll LOVE me!

Jasper: Oh my Titan okay yeah this is really upsetting to hear and deal with, actually.

Sometimes after their fights Jasper has to just…go lay down and stare at the ceiling for a while before re-reading his self-help books and grumbling while he takes notes like ugh, FINE, they were RIGHT. He and Hunter end up working on their issues after their reunion because they see themselves reflected in each other and they HATE it.

Jasper: Look, I'M not important. YOU'RE the one who's important here and I WILL sacrifice myself for you.

Hunter: Dear Titan this is infuriating.

Luz: Now YOU know how it feels.

Hunter: Maybe it'd be better if I'd just died, that way I'd stop causing problems for everyone I love.

Jasper: *deep breath*

At some point in the Human Realm Hunter has a bad mental health day and locks himself in the basement, and Camila finds Jasper sitting at the kitchen table and she's like, you okay? And he's like, I've read a lot about this, but all my books and notes are back in the Demon Realm and I feel like I'm flying blind and have no idea what I'm doing. And she's like, actually that's pretty par for the course when it comes to being a parent. And he's like, oh really? That's kinda reassuring, thanks. I'll just wait and see if he wants to talk about it later.

omg.... eventually!jasper is like... he's so isolated, he doesnt have anyone he trusts and he doesnt have a single person he'd call a friend. he's fallen back on the same thing he did under belos in a way- there is one single driving motivation in his life and absolutely nothing else matters. whether it was serving the emperor or saving hunter, he HAS dedicated everything inside of him to one single person at a time. probably not great, but! he could be doing worse. also, MH jasper is having a lot of breakdowns, but its also been less than two years for him lmfao. for eventually!jasper its been sixteen!! hes had a lot of time to gather his shit together

im actually imagining the isolation is less like. immediately of a problem because hes fairly used to it. he only ever had one friend before and he didnt much trust him either, not with his secrets. so being alone is... well, just what hes used to. hes also probably like. deeply in hiding wherever he is. he doesnt have magic and his face is all fucked up and if word got back to belos about it, he would totally suspect if not outright know.

ive kind of got this mental image of- you know at the end of the time travel episode when belos goes into his little cave house and its. like. hes got normal house stuff in there. like he has shirts hanging to dry on the cave walls. sure theres like evil grimwalker stuff in there too but its the domestic items i find hysterical. so like. im imagining jasper has found himself a nice secluded cave to bunker down in but also hes had sixteen years to straight of domesticate that place. there are definitely couches in there. hes got a CB. hes probably got running water and hes stealing electricity from the neighbors. and cable. and then just books fucking everywhere. jesus christ. theyre everywhere. what else would he fucking do with his time; hunter isnt allowed out of the castle on weekdays. that is. so much time to just Do Nothing.

he probably does hang out with the CATTs on non hunter missions too, if only because some of them will fuck over belos which he actively wants, or has no impact on the hunter situation either way, but improving his relationship with the CATTs before he inevitably pisses them off again is always a good idea. also, its something to fucking do.

god yeah just. camila with this bizarre man in her house. hes not having breakdowns, he doesnt like not understand that other people have feelings, hes mostyl together, hes just fucking weird. he hasnt been around people for this long in basically his entire life. hes not wearing a mask and hes never spent so much time without a mask in his entire life. hunter is here???? hes spent 16 years trying to save hunter and uhhhh shit i did it. i am not entirely sure what to do now. turns out you can spend sixteen years planning out this reunion and then it all go out the window immediately. also hes been living in a cave and hes forgotten basic rules of being in a house sometimes. hes very POLITE and gracious to camila especially like, i imagine both him and hunter frequently thank her and offer To Do Anything She Needs and its like. so fucking funny to see them both just Like That.

omg hunter gets to actually meet hawk hunter. "haha yeah he saved my life. hes like three hundred years old and he cant talk. look at this gnarly scar hes got. he bites me a lot"

[colorcodedbeanies]

S2 E5-"Breakage

Sorry about the long posting gaps, new job+sick+RDR2+L+ratio etc. Favorite line from this episode is "why don't you stop being such a freak about everything" I think I should be paid to say that to Walt once an hour.

TW: Racism, police brutality, addiction, alcoholism

So I've always been really unsure what to make of the cold opening of the two illegal immigrants crossing the Rio Grande. With the analytic frameworks I've applied until this point I think I'm choosing to understand it as complicating the idea that violence is sneaking up into the US across the Mexican border. Two scared, shivering men cross the river, and on the other end find an artifact of state-sanctioned violence. It never had to be imported from "lawless Mexican hell", as Marie describes it. We grow it just fine right here.

The cigarettes Walt finds jammed in the toilet act in visual parallel to Jesse's meth that he tried to flush down the toilet last season. The scene where he confronts Skyler about them is chockful of hypocrisy. Smoking while pregnant is bad for the baby's health. So is being a meth dealer trading with people who will shoot your whole family. Beyond that, though, there's one line from Skyler that stands out to me: "I'm sure you'll be very glad to hear that yes, I feel ashamed." She's accurately calling out what Walt's actual priority is. It's not determining the health of their child, or trying to help her so she doesn't feel the need to seek out a narcotic to cope. It's punishing her for needing an escape in the first place. Exactly the attitude he spends all of last season directing at Jesse.

Speaking of more socially acceptable addictions. I have never once seen anyone draw a connection between the fact that Walt cooks meth and Hank brews beer. Both manufacture substances that have heavy ties with addiction, and that can destroy lives. Both seem to seek out the crafting process as an escape from their day to day stress (Hank taking a day off to try and self-therapize with it). Only difference is Hank operates under the banner of legality, something the two of them talk about indirectly in 1x07.

We're getting in this episode to how Walt tends to mythologize the brown men around him into figures of ultimate violence, but also ultimate power. His disdain for Tuco is pretty explicitly racialized when he disparagingly asks Jesse if "you['re] gonna beat your 'homies' to death when they 'diss' you?" However, later in this episode he criticizes Jesse for not being ENOUGH like Tuco. "You think Tuco had 'breakage'? I guess that's true. He broke bones." This is of course, factually inaccurate. Beyond what we see in BCS that establishes Tuco had some clear problems in his organization that went way beyond some product theft, it's also just actually impossible to run any kind of business without experiencing any kind of skimming. Like Jesse says, J.C. Penney's gets breakage. How much more so when you're dealing with a substance that inherently manufactures dependence? None of those realities matter to Walt, though, who is chasing after his idea of what a kingpin is like. Tuco doesn't live on in his memories as a unstable guy with an uncle he looks after and poor long-term planning. Instead, he's transformed into an unstoppable killing machine, brutal and (you should read the full racial implications into this word) savage, but also untouchable. The kind of man Walt secretly longs to be and is currently using Jesse as a proxy to try to achieve

This is further doubled down on when, after an argument with Skyler where Walt feels unmanned by his inability to control his wife's behavior, he goes right to Jesse's house and demands he take care of business. Its him trying to imitate Tuco again, though this time not by his own hands.

Jesse is also doing some imitation here. It's not Tuco he acts like at the meeting though. It's Walt.

Hank can't glorify the Tuco fight with his usual bravado. He can, however, provide unique insight into a cop's view of a criminal when he describes them as functionally subhuman. Cockroaches. Your first instinct is to step on them. Drug dealers, addicts, gangsters, Mexicans they aren't people like you and me. If you saw one, you would immediately know you had to crush it to preserve yourself. This is going to get sooooo beautifully subverted next episode.

The Skyler-Marie conflict continues to act in parallel to the Skyler-Walt conflict, with Skyler refusing to proceed until Marie does her the basic service of respecting her with the truth. Marie tantrums like Walt does, asking "why are you punishing me" and seemingly frustrated that the consequences can't just evaporate because she doesn't want to deal with them. At the end of the day though. The distinction is that Marie loves her sister more than her pride. Walt...remains to be seen.

[lazypanartist]

Coffeeshop AU but it's Barista! Stone x Regular Customer! Reader

The bell chimes above you, and Stone, as you've come to know him, barely looks up from his latte art.

"Hey! The usual?"

"Nah. Hit me with something new?"

He glanced over his menu, and you can see the gears in his head turning, crossing off anything he's let you try before.

"Everything here is great; can't recommend one thing over another."

"That's because you make it all." You flash him a smile, hopping onto one of the stools right at the bar. "Whatever you think I'll like."

"You've liked everything I've offered so far." He catches your eye finally, a small smile of his own forming. "Latte?"

"Only if you insist." He slides the cup he was working on toward you, and you huff out a laugh. "Just trying to lighten your workload?"

Looking into the cup, you can see his intricate art of the night - Starry Night, monochromatic yet just as beautiful as the original.

"Nope. Just finished that one, figured you might like it."

"It's almost too nice to drink.. but I do need the caffeine." You take a sip and hum at the flavor. "Honestly, Stoney, you should post your work on social media."

He chuckles. "And attract more attention here? We're understaffed enough as it is - besides, most people are too impatient for the kind of work I prefer."

"The art portion?"

He nods, busying himself with one of the machines behind the counter. "It's nice. Creative outlet while still serving the public."

"The most important service one can offer," you grin, and he returns the gesture. "Mass caffeination."

"Not mass. Just for the people who know what's good."

You roll your eyes, checking the time on your phone. "I have, like, five more minutes before I have to leave for work. What do I owe for this one?"

He just shrugs, grinning as you set the cup back down. "Come back tonight?"

You snort. "You're doing night shift again, too? Pretty bad for your health, Stoney."

He grins. "Not for the coffee. Just to hang out."

"Like a date?" You almost sputter, lowering your cup from your lips again. He smiles.

"Sure. A date. Wear something nice?"

You set the cup down again, empty now, as you slide it back to Stone. "I have. Slacks from work. I think."

"Doesn't have to be fancy." He laughs, and you feel yourself do the same, grin splitting your face.

"Okay."

[aspisera]

10 things I've learned as an artist

(Resources below text)

Take a step back - I know we all get a lost in the sauce but if you look at the bigger picture, you can pick up on things that look strange or that you don't like.

You can criticize your art but don't hate it - I've said this before but hating your art is hating your progress. The only way to grow is by learning the things you liked/disliked about your older pieces.

Listening to music helps you more than you think - Every art teacher I've ever had always played music in their classroom. Classical, alt, rock, pop, etc. ever since I've noticed my art had more emotion tied to it and (imo) was sharper.

You're only able to draw anime? That's not a bad thing - Drawing anime can be very helpful when it comes to drawing human profiles and it can also help with proportions. No one can tell you how to make art. That's the whole point of it. It's subjective.

You can totally have multiple art styles - Of course you would hear this come from me. Having multiple art styles can help you find the one you like and it's fun to do. I usually take all the sketches I've done and take bits and pieces i like outta them.

Never be afraid to use a reference - Reference models/artist put their pictures on the internet for people like us! The their whole thing is to help young/inexperienced artist to get a grasp of anatomy, creases, and gestures. Never be scared to use one.

If you're working on the computer, give your eyes a break - This doesn't just go for artist, this goes for everyone. I know I'm gonna sound like a parent here but looking at a screen for hours really can make you tired. It can fuck up your melatonin production because of blue light from the screen.

Don't just give your eyes a break, give your hands a break, too. - For the love of fuck please don't spend 4 hours on a huge piece and not give yourself at least one (1) 30 minute break. Carpal tunnel and Arthritis are artist killers. Rest yourself.

Avoid burnout - (This goes for everyone too) Feeling burnt out can take you out for years if you let it get bad enough. I know your art is important to you but remember to keep an eye on your mental/physical health. Being well rested, having good nutrition, and going on a walk every so often can make you feel amazing.

Show your family and friends your art (if you're comfortable with it) - I like to show my mom and siblings my art sometimes. Even though my mom doesn't get it most of the time, she's always happy to give me pointers and compliments. My brother really likes my art and was super excited when I got confident enough to show him. He thinks the way I draw Kris (Deltarune) is incredibly gender and loves it when I send him my pieces.

Here are some apps and websites I use to help with my art:

Pureref - This is an app I use to keep an eye on references while drawing. You can set it to remain open even when in a different software. It's free but they accept donations.

Krita - This is the art program I use. It's reminiscent to Photoshop (something I'm familiar with) but it's completely free and you can get it through their website (Or Steam... if you wanna pay $15 for it).

Krita-Artist.org - Krita has a forum for their users to help other users and give news/updates. There's hundreds of resources, free brush packs, and tutorials on there to help you out.

CapCut - Video editor that's mostly used for Tiktoks but it's easy to use, free, and has it's own copyright detection system. I use this for animatics.

AdorkaStock - Reference photo website that allows you to choose poses from angles, objects, number for models, and positions. All the models are clothed, it won't jumpscare you. They all also have different body shapes so if you're worried about having to draw a chunky character with a slim model, you're all good on that front.

[beansnpeets]

I just wanna start by saying I know I don't deserve the way he treats me and I am working on leaving. I'd still like to vent here since I am unable to leave just yet. You absolutely do not need to read these, I'm just getting it out. This one is tw for talk of suicide. Not me, other people.

Jon called me this afternoon, mid meltdown. He went to install a new doorknob at his one rental because the tenant wanted one of those smart ones or whatever, but he shows up and she's lost parts for it so he can't do it. So then he sees that her a/c is dripping inside the wall. Goes to put a drain hole in the right place, does Too Much, like he usually does and wrecked the a/c unit completely. So now he's mad at himself and swearing and upset and in this spiral of "everything sucks, nothing matters, everything I do is fucked, the universe is fucking me" and I don't fucking know what to do because I've heard this meltdown a million times, and yeah, he does get fucked over a lot, but not because he's stupid or anything. It's because he takes on these massive projects, not realizing how massive they are, like owning a rental property, and then when something goes wrong the stress absolutely destroys him. Like I feel bad that he has to deal with as much as he does, but at the same time......he's the one that's put himself in this spot. Same as every other time. He can't handle the massive amounts of responsibility that is required of something like this. He thinks he should be able to just set it and forget it. That if he just takes on all these things everything will just run itself. Like no my dude. You're the one running the ship. You're ultimately responsible for it. It's up to you. And then he's upset because he has all this shit he has to do and all these things piling up and not nearly enough time or energy to deal with it all. My guy. You are chronically ill and disabled and you're taking on more than any able bodied person would take on at one time. No fucking wonder you can't keep up. Fucking STOP. And like he makes enough money with just some of what he's doing that he doesn't need to take all this shit on, yet he does. I don't get it.

Obviously I feel terrible that he feels terrible and I wish I could help, but historically nothing I say helps and so I'm to the point now where I just sit here and go "yeah that sucks ☹️" and that doesn't seem to be what he wants either. Like it's as if he's asking me to fix it or tell him how to or something, but I CANT. I've tried to tell him to talk to his dr about his mental health and he never does, just says he can't remember to or he doesn't know how to explain it. And I tell him to talk to his literal therapist and he says if he isn't actively having a meltdown he can't communicate to her what is going on because he doesn't remember it. And like idk if it's just bullshit? Like is he just trying to elicit an emotional response out of me or is it genuine because at this point I'm starting to wonder. But the dude just can't handle stress at all. His brother is exactly the same and he's seen the toll that has put on the family. Yet he does nothing to deal with his own issues. I think he thinks he doesn't have issues and that it's the universe that is at fault and not him.

And part of why it's taken me so long to make steps to leave is his mental health. I don't know that he wouldn't hurt himself when I leave. He keeps saying he's so depressed and what's the point and he wishes it would end, but like 🤷 the guy I dated in high school threatened to kill himself a bunch of times and scared the absolute fucking lights out of me over it so many times and when I finally broke it off he recovered and he's still alive, probably more fine than before. It just feels like I'm back in that with Jon. It's similar shit to what Alex put me through and I didn't fucking appreciate it the first time and I certainly don't the second time.

I know I can't let his mental health keep me in an unhappy relationship and I know that me being here makes no difference to his mental health, but once I do leave I know it'll be more fuel to the fire that he thinks the universe is out to fuck him over. But, again, he's put himself in this situation. I didn't do this to him. He did this.

I just don't know what to do. When he's melting down and upset and trying to get interaction out of me at those times I do not know what to do. It's been over 5 years and I can't figure it out. Even this morning, he was angry as he was leaving and made some comment and when I didn't reply he scoffed and said something else, in reference to me ignoring him, and then stormed out. Like dude. I'm not going to engage with you when you're ragey and pissy. And he does that all the time. I used to engage, but I just ignore him now and he fucking HATES that. But nothing I do say makes any difference anyway. Sometimes it just winds him up more. Idk what to do. Idk how this guy can be helped. And I know it isn't up to me, but I wish I could at least tell him where to go to get the help he clearly needs. It's just been increasingly frustrating and the more I disengage from the relationship the less tolerance I have for his shit.

[happiwithaneye]

TLDR: everything is bad but also things are fine.

Everything in my life feels like it's just... bad. Like yes I'm depressed and all but like...

Last year my grandma died at 4 AM on the first day of my new job teaching. I was at work at 7:30, teaching kids by 8:30. I did that all year. It was the hardest year of my life. I didn't go home for her last Christmas and I'm going to regret it forever.

My mom was in and out of the hospital for the whole year. Last May, she went into the hospital and didn't get out until September. I left the amazing district and incredible school I was teaching at to move two states over and take care of my mom.

She had so many surgeries and procedures and who knows what during the 3+ months she was in the hospital. Her hand became necrotic and needed two surgeries. It's almost healed, 5 months later. She had an emergency open heart surgery because the doctor fucked her central line insertion and no one took an x-ray for 2 fucking days. She was bleeding into her chest for 2. Fucking. Days. But no lawyer will take the malpractice lawsuit because there isn't enough money in it for them.

I moved into my dead grandma's house. On the anniversary of her death. She had one of those marble bed frames that cannot be moved so now my husband and I literally sleep on the bed she literally died in. Also no one dealt with her earthly belongings so that's our job.

I thought I could come down here and substitute teach on days I wasn't helping my dad and brother take care of my mom. I've spent 6 days a week here, usually 8-10 hours a day. I can't find a job to pay for anything and I'm just falling further and further into credit card debt but what choice do I have? I'm taking care of my mom.

She doesn't know where she is half the time. She yells constantly. She doesn't sleep. She fights her physical and occupational therapists but then gets mad that she can't walk on her own. She won't eat then yells that she's hungry.

You know how you joke about which sibling will be wiping you parent's ass when they get old? The joke isn't funny when you're only 30 and you feel like your life isn't yours any more and you're literally cleaning shit off your hands. I'm the emotional catch all for my dad and my brother and I turn all my frustration on my husband who does not deserve it. And he loves me and feeds me and takes care of our pets.

But I have somewhere to live. I have a husband who supports me without reservation. I (mostly) have my own health. That's enough, right?

Anyway, I've been listening to #Midnights and @taylorswift has been helping me feel like the world isn't complete shit.

[sociieties]

@peachmuses: 5tt mako was glad he went w tatsu in Bad Ending.

i. if makoto's emotions are in enough of a mess, his general health tanks. as it goes to stand, a piss poor immune system and being in a new country do not mix. after stepping foot in the states, makoto spent a grand total of three days without catching some illness -- afterwards, he spends a grand total of four months, sixteen days, and five hours being sick. ( first it was a cold / then the flu / pneumonia / some cold or the flu / then bronchitis. he has shit luck. ) when he's no longer sick, it's december. when he's no longer sick, tatsuya returns to him. ( despite the holidays / despite the pr he'd usually be getting / despite the fact that tatsuya should be with his team to play on christmas, tatsuya comes home and spends the rest of the month with makoto. ) makoto asks him why, tatsuya tells him that he'd rather be home. like this, neither of them spend their time alone, but together, like the friends they used to be before the entire shuuzou thing.

in the states / in december, when makoto isn't sick and him and tatsuya aren't arguing about things that no longer matter, makoto finally feels at peace. here and now, drama doesn't exist. kazuya is but a distant memory / what happened with him and that one professor doesn't exist. tatsuya and makoto both pretend that nothing ever happened with shuuzou and that neither of them wish they'd rather be back home with their friends. after chistmas, just past midnight, tatsuya jokingly kisses makoto and when makoto looks at him, tatsuya points towards the mistletoe they'd happen to walk under. tradition, tatsuya explains. makoto laughs so hard he falls into a coughing fit.

had he stayed back home, makoto knows it'd be months, or even years before he could laugh like this. ( he completely ignores how the night ended with tatsuya apparently carrying him back home after he'd passed out from a sudden fever. )

ii. makoto's squirming underneath tatsuya, pinned down to the couch as tatsuya tries force feeding him some old mother's concoction of pain medicine, cough medicine, and soup. it's july and as kazuya and shuuzou's birthdays rolled around, makoto had started complaining about his chest hurting and began coughing, leading tatsuya to believe that makoto had gotten sick again. this was his solution to the problem / only makoto manages to kick tatsuya off of him after struggling violently. the soup falls onto the floor and makoto pulls himself off of the couch, staring down at tatsuya, who's staring up at him like he's lost his mind and makoto slowly shrugs.

" if you're that worried, i'll go to the doctor tomorrow, " makoto explains quietly, hand stretched out to help tatsuya off of the ground.

tatsuya takes his hand and when he's halfway off the ground, he yanks his arm back and pulls makoto onto the ground with him. makoto, betrayed, gasps as he hits the ground / tatsuya smiles and laughs as he wraps arms around makoto. " good, " tatsuya begins, " because if you get me sick, i'm gonna be pissed. "

makoto falls silent, staring at him with wide eyes. " i hate you. "

" sure you do. "

" i hate that you care. " makoto feels like crying. " if i stayed back in ja-- "

" you didn't. you came back with me. i'm gonna care. "

iii. makoto's barely 25 when he starts making an effort to actually go out consistently. the year prior had been wasted, filled with sickness and depression, one returning with a vengeance after he'd managed to fight off the other. a handful of months ago, makoto had graduated from college again, speeding through years worth of material to get himself a doctorate for something he'd never use in the real world just for the sake of not having to find another excuse to stay in america. shortly after that, tatsuya had told him, again, that if he was going to keep living in his house, that makoto would have to at least get a job. makoto refused to work and they argued over it -- it'd gotten so bad that makoto went off to stay with someone he'd considered his friend. that ended terribly and makoto ended up calling tatsuya to come get him.

he's at the mall with tatsuya and some of tatsuya's friends when he sees it, a wall of missing persons posters / within it rests a poster of that one person makoto had gone off to stay with for a few days and when he realizes it, murky gaze shifts from wall to tatsuya, who's walking off while laughing at some joke he missed. there's a warm feeling that settles in his stomach when he makes the effort to catch up, all but throwing himself onto best friend's back, arms lazily snaking around his neck as tatsuya hooks arms underneath his legs without missing a beat. makoto quietly thanks him and when tatsuya asks him what for, makoto changes the subject to what they're all going to eat later -- it'll be his treat.

iv. by the time makoto wakes up, tatsuya's up and on the phone, lingering around the kitchen while makoto's trying to remember why he's on the couch instead of in bed. ( the night prior, the two of them were bingeing murder mystery shows. ) when tatsuya's off the phone, he returns to the couch and opts to stretch out across makoto.

" what was all of that about? " makoto asks, speaking through a yawn.

tatsuya blinks up at him. " atsushi hit my dad with a car. he's dead now. "

" how's it feel to be fatherless? "

the half the day passes before someone realizes that it's valentine's day / they'd gone out for lunch and the general masses remind them. makoto's mutism returns immedately after and when tatsuya notices the energy shift, he takes makoto home. they spend the rest of the day smoking one thing or another before makoto breaks out of his silent spell and admits that valentines day is a triggering day for him. tatsuya asks makoto to be his valentine anyway / makoto thinks about it as if it'd been the hardest question on the planet before saying yes.

v. after the two of them bump into shuuzou's younger siblings, makoto is off, trying to avoid having a panic attack on the spot and tatsuya calms him down. they spend the rest of their time at the beach, where tatsuya enjoys his time sunbathing like the cat he is and makoto sucks down about four mai tais. exactly a week later, shuuzou reaches out to the two of them and thanks them for talking to the twins. makoto looks towards tatsuya / tatsuya looks towards makoto / neither of them really know what to do.

so shuuzou's not mad anymore? shuuzou reached out first, so --

makoto's short lived breakdown is once again warded off by tatsuya's presence and while makoto seriously considers not responding, they both text back. ( tatsuya tells him he's welcome, makoto apologies / the silence that comes afterwards is deafening. )

the wait is horrible, so much so that makoto ends up dumping his phone into the blender just so he doesn't have to worry about it. when tatsuya asks him why, makoto tells him that it's better than waiting to dig up the past. makoto's still stupid and sensitive and he doesn't know how to deal with the silence. tatsuya cheers him up and distracts him for twelve hours straight.

makoto misses the facetime call from shuuzou that comes through his ipad because he's busy having sex with tatsuya again.

[furby-organist]

> Well. Alexa had been too preoccupied with the whole ‘trying not to look like a mess while shedding velvet’ business that he hadn’t considered the implication of velvet-shedding coming to an end. Well. That’s great. In a few weeks, it’ll be rut season. 

> (Testosteroni bolognese is now on the Traitor Joe’s season flyer. ♪ and you can get buck in the club, get fucked up in the club, we don’t give a fuck ♫.  It’s fisti-cuffing season. ♪ It’s the most wonderful time of the year ♫. these antlers are rated E for everyone. ♪ anybody can get it! ♫)

> He hopes he’s in bad enough health this year that the fighting urges are the worst of it.