#that big would cause a riot

[voidfell]

Tag Dump 1 / 2

Still working on Kaz and Marty's tags but consider them added too. Might add my rules + muse list to my pinned post cause it seems easier then updating my carrd every time I get impulsive.

[theromanticrationalist]

Oh my gosh, the episode where Sheldon spends quality time with Bernadette was SO CUTE - and I don't even really like Bernadette as a character! He was so sweet and tender with her, and he designed a whole D&D campaign so that she could role play herself enjoying things she couldn't because of being pregnant. I feel like my heart was just bursting with how sweet and utterly thoughtful that was. Sheldon is absolutely pure in every way. 🥰 Which makes me want to talk about how this show treats Sheldon. It is like they kind of go back and forth between him being an actual complex character vs the weird man-child who everyone shits on. (By the way, Sheldon isn't a man-child, Leonard, Howard, and Raj ARE man-children...*ahem!*) After Sheldon and Amy have gotten back together, I feel like they've kind of reverted him back to the latter, although not every episode, thankfully. I absolutely LOVED the Sheldon birthday episode where Amy tries to celebrate him, and it causes him to have a trauma response from his childhood. Beautiful - as in beautiful character work from all involved! I don't like that they've kind of looped Amy in on the "let's shit on Sheldon" campaign at times. Like, of course I love that Amy is his foil - constantly challenging him, taking the time to explain situations to him to let him know when he is being inconsiderate and rude, and not giving into all of his unreasonable demands (which everyone else does WAY too often! Grow a backbone, guys!). That's all good! Yet, I feel like they've made Amy a little too mean to him at times. It is feeling out of character to me how much Amy is exhausted and annoyed at Sheldon. Sometimes I'm like, she does enjoy spending time with him right?? RIGHT??? I mean, I get it. Sheldon is A LOT, but it is SO obvious - to me any way - when Sheldon is being genuinely himself vs just being a jackass. I know Amy's love language is very different from Sheldon's, but I think Amy would be understanding and acknowledging Sheldon's love language, because she's incredibly smart, a neuroscientist, and is head over heels in love with Sheldon! Also, that there is nothing wrong with how passionate Sheldon is about things: contracts, trains, fun facts - I think he's so adorable. I kind of miss weird little Amy who could match Sheldon in his idiosyncrasies. She does still manifest, but not as much as she did earlier on. I feel like the writers believe that in order for Amy and Sheldon to work, one of them had to be the "normal one". I absolutely disagree with that.

[foldingfittedsheets]

It started with cantrips, which is why it took people a while to notice. The first few events were people on the news talking about how they’d been needing a light and then suddenly they’d waved a hand and said words and there was light. No one really believed them but as more reports were verified suddenly more people came forward with even less believable stories of what everyone really didn’t want to call magic. Even though it was pretty obviously magic. Spectral floating hands grabbing things that were out of reach, whispered messages that reached their friend seated too far away to hear them.

An EMT who whispered a word and suddenly saved a dying man.

Then the darker stories started filtering in. 

Words spoken in anger causing explosions. Poison spewing forth from a hand gesture. One person gave a retort so witty that someone was hospitalized. 

Everyone was scared, but the nerds started to figure it out fastest. It sure wasn’t the scientists who were doing the equivalent of crying on the floor in the fetal position in their respective labs while reports poured in globally of these occurrences. A growing movement online started spreading lists. They had all the blessings people might have gotten and regardless of how many people scoffed no one could really deny that every instance of magic correlated to a website listing the cantrips in Dungeons and Dragons. People pooled their collective resources to help quantify what was happening and facts started to emerge.

Everybody got one. You had to be at least thirteen to use the magic. That pretty much summed up the only other common denominators. Otherwise it seemed completely random, the magic didn’t line up with any existing character traits. You just unlocked one piece of magic each. People with aggressive cantrips were almost loaded up into camps for suddenly being so dangerous- however many hit points real humans had it was apparently not a big number. A lot more deaths occurred than anyone could feasibly track and the global population panicked.

The legislation for the camps got struck down. There were riots and confusion and for a while everything was pretty chaotic. Firebolts and Eldritch Blasts went off from sheer exuberance as much as anything else. Amidst the rioting were people just living their lives, not using their cantrips. It took a while for things to settle down, but humans can get used to most anything if given enough time.

Almost everybody scanned the list to figure out which they got, but someone with Chill Touch just enjoyed frostier beverages than most even if it made you think about death more to drink something after the skeleton hand had been wrapped around it. At least it looked cool. Most people didn’t really do anything other than play around. A youtuber who had gotten Shape Water suddenly surged in popularity as she pivoted her channel to creating beautiful patterns with colored water. Other online personalities quickly followed and those with combat focused magic set up backyard target practice to show off. Some fires resulted as well as numerous noise complaints and a law was passed limiting where people could practice magic. It was virtually unenforceable but the people in charge were trying to keep a grip on the situation.

Noticeably the largest subset of the population that used their magic were those who had gotten Spare the Dying. Every government turned out the call that such individuals would receive a generous stipend for taking to the hospitals and stabilizing the sick and injured. Death rates dropped substantially, but it was still only a cantrip. Cancer marched on, but many got to live after miraculous recoveries.

Months passed and things started to become a little more normal. There were still debates about what had caused it and how to regulate magic but day to day life settled down. Speculations over what the long term ramifications would be continued as well as why those cantrips. Wizards of the Coast refused to comment for the first six months, closing its doors to the rioting and keeping them closed. At the end of six months they abruptly published a new line of cantrip cards with all kinds of utility and no combat usage whatsoever. The internet exploded and the government wasn’t pleased, but nothing happened. No one got any new magic. People wondered if those under thirteen would manifest the new stuff, but no one did. They just blew out their thirteenth birthday candles and got handed a cantrip like everyone else. 

A year later a mechanic in rural Canada was peering into the engine of a busted car. He realized he needed some lubricant and instead of reaching for his can he waved a hand and splattered the car with Grease that had burst from his hand. He was a calm sort of fellow so he called up the local news and said there was more magic. They asked first what cantrip he had- folks who received Prestidigitation had made a number of false alarms on receiving additional magic. The mechanic told them his cantrip was Infestation which he’d never had cause to use after figuring it out. 

The press descended and demanded a demonstration. Most people had read up on the basic rules of magic at that point, so everyone understood when the mechanic said they’d have to wait until the next day. A media storm went up the next day with headlines blaring that first level magic had been unlocked after the passing of the lunar new year. 

A wide contingent had been waiting for this opportunity. The spell list went out again amidst less panic but more chaos. There was a rash of identity thefts no could trace and eventually people realized Disguise Self posed a significant challenge to daily life. Celebrities had trouble convincing people they were who they said as random citizens took their faces on numerous joyrides. A scandal broke when it turned out an A list actor had hired someone else to play them while they went on vacation but the details were kept very hush hush.

Hospitals called out desperately for anyone with healing magic and most of those blessed with Cure Wounds and Healing Word answered. People with Goodberry formed community food kitchens and for the first time it seemed like hunger could actually be eliminated. Veterinary offices and zoos made special positions for those who could cast Animal Friendship and Speak with Animals.

A celebrity chef hit the jackpot with Purify Food and Drink and made a whole spinoff series where she went dumpster diving and made five star meals out of rotting leftovers. Several people changed careers entirely to lend their services to study ancient texts with Comprehend Languages. Even one hour a day led to huge leaps in discovery and understanding of ancient civilizations. 

A small murmur of worry followed the new influx of skills and power. What would happen when more magic was unlocked? The amount of people now running around with dangerous combat spells was even greater than before. Would people have to worry about necromancy? New crimes were being invented faster than laws could keep up as magic was put to novel and interesting uses. 

A year passed and everyone waited with bated breath for the lunar new year, but nothing happened. 

But I’m pretty sure I figured it out. We got handed cantrips. And we waited a year for first level spells. I’m pretty sure it’s one more year, and then things will really start to get interesting.

Inspired by this poll. If you enjoyed my writing consider leaving a tip on my Ko-fi!

[byanyan]

ㅤㅤ" if i'm not allowed to trick or treat, then everyone else is getting nothin' but tricks. "

[thebiggestmenace]

Though I’m not a fan of the estrangement storyline I hope the show goes into more detail about it. It’s two whole years of their relationship we don’t know anything about and it aggravates me.

Did they ever have to make awkward conversation? Did Tommy/Mariah ever try to help them reconcile? Did one of them ever have a close call on patrol and the other came and checked in on them?

Based on the bar flashback scene it seems that no one in Jackson knew they were on bad terms, so I’m assuming they kept up an act in public

it aggrevates me, too! what happened between them?? again, really hope they explain/show more in the show. my mantra with wanting more things shown in the show is that they added stuff to the first season that wasn't really in the game, so surely they can add a few things to the second season. surely. so surely they can show what happened between joel and ellie. surely.

I'm sure they had to have a few awkward conversations. especially at the beginning of their estrangement. like, ellie's just ignoring joel and joel's just confused, surely they had to have a few awkward conversations/interactions. I'm not really a fan of game tommy, but I do like to think he would've tried to have the two of them sit down and talk about it. which probably resulted in them suddenly disappearing and being so busy. maybe maria tried to help, too! she wouldn't have been that sly about it, though. I imagine she'd try to do it on behalf of jackson. like tommy focuses on them reconciling for family bonding reasons, maria focuses on them reconciling for jackson reasons. the latter making them behave in public. the former probably gets ignored. ooo if one of them had a close call?? mmm I could see them being sly about it so as to not tip the other off. like joel realizes ellie left something in the main house that needs to be brought to her this instant (and it's like a spoon or something small) and ellie hanging around windows or being bold enough to just walk into the main house and steal something from him to check on him. but also, you remember the bloater flashback?? what the FUCK was that? ellie almost gets her head ripped off, and all joel has to say is "that was too damn close"???? sir, that is your daughter. you shot up an entire hospital to save her? a bloater tries to rip her head off and you're barely even phased??? I hope they change that scene a bit in the show. I feel like joel would've freaked out a bit more than that??? and would've fretted trying to make sure ellie was okay.

mmmm the bar scene :( assuming it's the dance, they had to have put on a façade in public. which was probably a work in progress. I doubt it was there in the beginning because their emotions would've been too high. joel would've been too confused and ellie would've been too angry, I imagine. so that façade might've started after one too many questions about what happened between them or after maria said they needed to behave. but also? why was she so mad at him? yes, she can most definitely stand up for herself, but also? that is your, once upon a time, father figure? he's just trying to defend you? he wasn't trying to start anything. that whole night just devastates me. ellie dancing with dina, having their first kiss? shoving joel for standing up for her, only to show up on his porch later to forgive him? and then for him to die the very next day. it destroys me everytime I think too much about it. but yes, they had to have a façade while in public

[hoe4hotchner]

hallooo,, i hope you're doing good lovely<33 i wanted to request a hotch x wife!doctor reader where Aaron is mildy injured after a case. the team urges him to get his injuries checked out at the hospital but he keeps declining for no reason (the real reason is because reader is one of the best doctor's there, and would freak out and scold Hotch for getting injured). the team eventually forces him to go to the hospital and they meet reader? (they also maybe see hotch getting scolded for getting injured xd) thank you in advance🤍

Doctor's orders | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Wife Doctor!reader | WC: 1.9k | CW: Injury (gun shot grazing) hospital setting.

Hotch had been shot before.

He’d been stabbed, concussed, and bruised within an inch of his life... hell, he’d even once dislocated his shoulder while wrestling an unsub twice his size in the woods outside of Boulder, Colorado. And in every single one of those instances, he’d remained infuriatingly calm, stoic, and in control.

So when he returned to the local precinct in Bethesda with his shirt soaked in blood, favoring his side and gritting his jaw, no one expected him to break stride.

But when he waved off medical attention again, even Emily crossed her arms.

“You’re not serious,” she snapped, watching him blot at the torn fabric of his dress shirt with a paper towel like it was no big deal. “Hotch, you’re bleeding. Through gauze.”

“I’ve had worse,” he muttered.

“That’s not the point,” Rossi interjected. “You don’t get a gold star for playing martyr. Go get checked out.”

“I don’t need to be checked out.”

“You do,” JJ said firmly, glancing toward Morgan for backup.

“Look, man, I get it,” Morgan added. “Hospitals suck. But this one’s twenty minutes away, and we will drag you there if we have to. Besides Savannah will kill me if I don't take you to a hospital.”

Hotch visibly hesitated. He opened his mouth to argue again, but then, clamped it shut. It wasn’t fear in his eyes. Not pain. Not stubbornness.

It was something else entirely.

And Garcia, who’d been quietly observing from the sidelines, narrowed her eyes. “Wait a second,” she said slowly. “You’re not avoiding the hospital because you hate doctors… You’re avoiding it because you’re married to one.” Garcia had snooped.

The room went quiet.

JJ’s jaw dropped. Emily turned on her heel. “Wait... wait. You mean the reason you’re refusing medical attention is because your wife works there?”

Hotch didn’t respond. He just wiped his brow and winced.

“Oh my God,” Garcia gasped, covering her mouth with both hands. “You’re scared she’ll scold you.”

“I’m not scared of my wife,” Hotch said flatly, and Morgan snorted.

“You sure about that, boss man? ‘Cause you look like you’re about to march to the principal’s office or dig your own grave.”

“She just… worries,” Hotch muttered.

“I bet she does,” Emily said with a grin. “Considering how often you get shot at work.”

“Enough,” Hotch sighed. “If it’ll get you all to stop badgering me, fine. I’ll go.”

“Excellent,” Garcia chirped, already pulling up directions on her phone. “Because I would very much like to witness your wife read you the riot act.”

The emergency department at Bethesda General Hospital was bustling with the usual chaos: trauma codes being called over intercoms, gurneys wheeled past in a blur, and nurses moving with the speed and focus of people who knew lives were at stake if they didn't run faster than a cheetah.

And in the center of it all—calm, commanding, and terrifyingly efficient—was Dr. Hotchner.

“Prep O.R. 3,” you instructed without looking up from the chart in your hands. “Page ortho, and tell Dr. Li I need her on consult.”

“Yes, Doctor,” your intern said quickly, practically sprinting to do your bidding.

You turned just in time to see your husband walk through the sliding doors, flanked by six BAU agents who all looked like they’d come for the show.

And Aaron... oh, Aaron... looked guilty as hell.

You spotted the blood at his side immediately and froze. “Oh my God,” you said, voice sharp. “What happened?”

“I’m fine,” he said quickly.

You blinked. “You’re bleeding through a towel, Aaron.”

The use of his name earned you a few surprised looks from the team. Hotch winced.

“I didn’t want to interrupt your shift,” he said, tone low, which only made your eyes narrow.

“Uh oh,” Emily muttered under her breath in a sing-song tone. “He’s in trouble.”

“Is this from the case?” you asked, already stepping forward to pull the towel away. Your fingers were gentle, but your eyes were assessing his injury, no-nonsense. “How long ago?”

“About two hours.”

“Two hours!? You’ve been walking around like this for two hours!?”

He shifted under your gaze. “It wasn’t that bad. I kept pressure on it.”

You exhaled slowly and turned to the nurse behind the intake desk. “I need a bay prepped now.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“I’m walking. Not being wheeled,” Hotch added stubbornly.

You didn’t even look at him. “We’ll see.”

The team shuffled awkwardly, clearly trying not to smirk too much.

“You can wait here,” you told them over your shoulder. “I’ll patch him up and return him in one piece. No promises on whether or not he’s limping.”

Hotch gave them a long-suffering look as you led him down the hall, your hand at his back. “I told you this would happen.”

“You let it happen,” Rossi called after him.

Ten minutes later, Hotch was perched on a trauma bay bed with his dress shirt peeled off, the deep graze on his left side now cleaned and being carefully stitched.

You worked in silence for a moment, your hands steady even as your brows furrowed.

“I wasn’t trying to worry you,” he said softly.

You didn’t respond right away. When you finally looked up, your expression was softer, but no less serious. “Aaron,” you murmured, “you came in bleeding. I’m your wife. I deserve to know when you’ve been hurt.”

He looked down. “I didn’t want to interrupt your work.”

“This is my work. You’re my husband, and also, in case you forgot, I’m one of the best trauma physicians in this hospital.” You tied off a stitch and gave him a pointed look. “Do you think I wouldn’t notice if you walked into the bedroom tonight trying to pretend you hadn’t been shot while leaving a trail of blood on the floor?”

He sighed. “I wasn’t shot.”

“You were grazed. Close enough.” You stepped back to dispose of the gauze and gloves. “You’re lucky it didn’t hit anything major.”

“I know.”

You softened again as you returned to him, brushing a hand along his shoulder. “I’m not mad. I’m just… worried. Every time you walk out that door, I worry. So when you come back hurt and don’t tell me? Yeah, I get upset.”

His hand came to rest over yours. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re forgiven. But next time? You don’t delay treatment because you’re afraid of a scolding.”

He huffed a laugh. “It was a very convincing scolding.”

You smiled, leaned in, and kissed his temple. “You deserved it.”

When the two of you returned to the waiting area, Hotch was in clean clothes, a set of hospital scrubs, his wound bandaged, and a list of care instructions tucked under his arm.

The team perked up at the sight of you.

“Well?” JJ asked.

“He’ll live,” you said dryly. “No thanks to his decision-making.”

Garcia grinned. “Did you give him The Look? The whole 'I married you, not your death wish' thing?”

“I may have included a variation,” you replied with a smirk.

Hotch sighed, resigned. “Can we go now?”

“Nope,” Emily chirped, handing him a coffee. “Not until we get a photo of you in those scrubs. For the file.”

“What file?”

“The ‘Hotch Gets Owned by His Wife’ file,” Morgan said.

“It’s getting thick and we just started it,” Rossi added, sipping his espresso. "It was nice meeting you."

You chuckled, brushing a hand through Aaron’s hair. “He’ll behave now. Doctor’s orders.”

Hotch muttered something under his breath, but you swore you caught the faintest smile tugging at his lips.

The car ride home was mostly quiet, apart from the occasional hiss from Hotch when the seatbelt shifted against his bandage.

You didn’t say anything, but your hand rested on his knee the whole way.

By the time you walked into the house, the familiar rhythm of your shared space slowly began to dissolve the lingering tension. You took your shoes off by the door; Hotch placed his bag down a little more heavily than usual.

“You need to sit,” you said, already toeing into the kitchen.

“I’m fine.”

“Aaron.”

He exhaled. “I’m sitting.”

When you returned with a glass of water, two Advil, and the strict instructions for how often he could take them, he was in the living room exactly as you’d ordered, but not without the smugness of someone who was used to giving the orders, not taking them.

You handed him the water. “You’ll need to stay on the pain meds at least through tomorrow. No stairs. And I swear if I catch you trying to answer a single email tonight...”

“You’ll what?” he said, raising a brow.

“I’ll forward them all to Strauss and tell her you’re delirious and talking to ghosts with an attached doctor's note.”

That made him chuckle, and you hated how handsome he looked doing it, bruised, and still somehow making you feel like the one who’d just lost a battle.

You sighed, sinking down onto the couch beside him. “I mean it, Aaron. You can’t keep doing this.”

He looked at you then, really looked, quiet guilt spread across his features from the way his brows furrowed.

“I know.”

“I’m not just your doctor, you know. And it’s like you forget how terrifying it is to see you walk in with blood on your shirt and a towel shoved under your ribs like that’s normal.”

“I don’t forget,” he said softly. “I just… sometimes convince myself it’s easier not to worry you.”

You reached up, brushing your fingers along his jaw, gentler now. “I’d rather be worried than kept in the dark. That’s not how this works. We’re a team. You get to yell at me for missing lunch or losing sleep during a thirty-six-hour shift, and I get to yell at you for treating bullet grazes with paper towels.”

His lips tugged into something that wasn’t quite a smile, but close enough. “Okay,” he said. “Deal.”

You let out a breath, leaned forward, and kissed his temple, then his cheek, then the edge of his mouth. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I thought I was ‘infuriatingly reckless.’”

“You can be both,” you said, settling your weight against him carefully so you didn’t bump the injury. “But right now, you’re a patient. So that means feet up, water, meds, and...”

He groaned. “A heat pack.”

“Yes, a heat pack,” you repeated, shooting him a look. “You know the protocol. Don’t test me, Agent Hotchner.”

He muttered something about bossy doctors and curled further into the couch.

You disappeared for a moment, returning with the hot pack and a blanket and the remote already queued up to one of those slow-burn crime shows he liked but pretended not to enjoy because they were painstakingly inaccurate.

You placed the heat pack gently against his side, then draped the blanket over both your legs. “Anything else I can get for you, Mr. Hotchner?”

“Just this, Mrs. Hotchner,” he said quietly, curling an arm around your waist and pulling you in close.

You let yourself melt into his chest, sighing as your cheek found his heartbeat.

“Next time,” you whispered, “you come to me the minute you’re hurt. No detours. No delays.”

“I promise.”

You didn’t look up. “Swear it.”

He kissed the top of your head. “I swear.”

"And I want to meet your team properly, without having to patch you or them up!"

"Deal."

[evilminji]

Actually? You know what we don't see enough?

People who get isekai'd, go "sure I'll Change The Plot" but then... just kinda get swept up in the local power system/a hyperfixation and forget. (Or like, lose the desire too)

Cause like... do any of YOU know what Cultivation feels like? Physically? Can any of US really tell how we'd react to sitting down, trying this whole "gotta stay under the radar, act like everyone else" thing... only... ONLY?? To have our SOUL go Brrrr~☆

Have all our insides get filled with sunlight. Our veins, sigh like they just stepped into a hot shower after weeks rolling in questionable mud. Feel... clean. Calm. Filled with light. Just a good ol... no thoughts, head empty, vibe session. With the UNIVERSE. Breathing it in... breathing it out... breathing it IN... breathing it-

Wait...

HOW MANY DAYS HAS IT BEEN?!

And like? The great irony? Being that they ARENT TRYING. There is no Challenging The Heavens or Ten Thousand Dragon Dist Of Doom Sword nonsense. No drama with face slapping or inner/inter Sect politics. Just? The slow but creeping realization that this is the calmest they have ever felt in their life.

No rent. No capitalistic hellscape. No riots or genocides she can't go stab, due to complexe economic and sociopolitical reasons, firstly being it wouldn't solve shit. It's? So calming? She can just sit under a waterfall. Or under a tree. In a garden! People leave her alone!

Ha...ha ha...aha Ha HA!

*vaguely deranged hysterical laughter* She FREE!!! AaaaaaAAAAAAA-!!!!!!!

Do they have to sedate her? Yeah. That was a pretty big Qi Deviation. She may have hulked out a bit. Bit people. But heart demons get to the best of us, man. She hasn't felt this chill in her LIFE.

Fffffuck the plot. *cheers her tea cup* you do you, boo! Go get um, honey! Aim for the eyes!! *siiiiip*

She? Would ironicly? Be the most advanced Cultivator in her generation? Solely by virtue of just really, REALLY enjoying Cultivating. By, ironically, not CARING and simply doing? By accepting who she is and as she is? Drifting gently upwards like a feather on a warm breeze? The universe would reward.

She would be grasping the meaning of the project, where others fail.

Not demanding power. Not striving to break the game. Not DEFYING Fate...

Just? Gently setting Fate aside. Setting everything aside. And sinking into starlight. Cause positive reinforcement go Brrr. Why all these arguments? This drama? Have a steamed bun. You should go meditate. *sedated grin with flower background*

Is she high? Fucking with people? No one knooooows.

But she's the Sect Leader's and various Shizun's FAVORITE. Like a human Capybara. Immaculate Vibes, OC. Keep up the good work! (She's so low maintenance! Never causes trouble with other Sects! No drinking, no whoring around in the mortal villages, and best of all? She'll help with paperwork then stay for tea! Listen to you ramble! It's like the daughter you never had.)

@legitimatesatanspawn @babbling-babull @fangirlingpuggle @mayfay @hdgnj

[pellucid-constellations]

Of Oblivious Minds

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Pining, yearning, idiots in love?? (an angsty moment as well)

a/n: What am I doing!! I don't know!! This is part one and there will be one or two more parts :) Thank you for reading ily ♡

Part 2

~~

You were having an epiphany—of that you were certain. 

Sitting in the main room of the townhouse, a glass of wine spinning in your hand, many things were beginning to make sense to you. It was ridiculous that you hadn’t come to this realization before. All of the hints were right in front of you. 

You leaned back in the armchair, a scrutinizing gaze pointed toward the corner of the room. You took a sip of your wine—a contemplative sip—and then ran through the facts in your head. Yes, it made perfect sense. 

You wanted to kick yourself for not noticing before. 

“Don’t hurt yourself thinking so hard.” Cassian’s voice startled you out of your thoughts. You blinked up at him as he took a seat on the arm of your chair. “Want to share why you’re staring a hole into the wall?” 

“I was just… noticing something,” you murmured over the rim of your glass, voice low. 

“And what’s that?” 

You paused, pursing your lips. It would sound silly if you were wrong. But Cassian looked at you expectantly, so you simply whispered, “I think Az is in love with Elain.” 

The sudden, rumbling laugh bouncing off the walls set your cheeks ablaze. The entire room halted their conversations to look at Cassian as he doubled over, holding his stomach with no signs of letting up. You stared up at him, mortified, and smacked his arm as his laughs lowered into senseless chuckles. 

“Cassian, quit it. It’s not that funny—stop it or I’ll hit you again.” 

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” he laughed, wiping a tear from his eye. “Sorry, that was just… that was a good one, y/n.” 

“What’d she say?” Rhys asked, perking up from the other side of the fireplace. 

“Nothing to warrant that reaction,” you grumbled, sinking lower into your seat. 

Fighting back the vibrations in his chest, Cassian took a deep breath. “Inside joke, Rhys. You wouldn’t get it.” 

Rhys huffed out an offended breath, quirking a brow at his antics. He looked to Mor and Feyre to garner some support, but they only giggled back at him. 

“Maybe we would.” 

Azriel’s gravelly tone only made you collapse further into the armchair. If you’d known there would be consequences to sharing your epiphany with Cassian, you would have kept your mouth shut. Cassian was usually wonderful at keeping secrets. 

“Oh, brother, you’d find it funny as well, surely,” Cassian shared, heaving up from the chair. “But, alas, I have to go. No inside jokes for the room.” 

“Well that’s not fair. You don’t get to cause a riot and then leave,” Mor whined, her cheeks rosy and her eyes glassy. Clearly, she had been having her own drinks throughout the night. 

“Lovely. Now you want to know? Where was that attitude while you were giggling with my mate?” Rhys accused. 

Feyre jumped in this time, pinching the high lord’s cheek and cooing, “Oh, you big Illyrian baby.” 

The focus was no longer on you and your apparently laughable realization. Cassian’s reaction did little to deter you from the thought, however, and you were still quite resolute in your observations. Looking over at the couple in question only solidified that. 

They were huddled close, Elain’s knees pressed against Azriel’s thigh as they spoke in low tones. Azriel would occasionally take a glance around the room, lingering on you as he went, but that was natural for the shadowsinger. His shadows were gone, where they went you had no idea, and his wings were held tightly behind his back. 

And he stared at her—intently—as she nodded her head and answered whatever it was he had asked. 

He had to be in love with her. 

You were usually quite good at reading these types of things. 

“I’m taking you home now,” Cassian spoke, holding out his hand. “We’ll walk.” 

“What if I don’t want to go home?” you asked, taking his hand and following him despite your words. 

“After all that nonsense, I think it’s clear you need a good night’s rest. Plus, you and I are in the ring bright and early tomorrow morning.” 

You groaned, knocking your head back at the reminder of your obligations. It always sounded like such a good idea over breakfast. Cassian had clearly learned that you would only say yes to early morning trainings when you were half-asleep. 

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go, sweetheart.” 

You let him yank you to the door, your feet dragging behind you, when a warmth encased your shoulders. You recognized the material of your coat instantly and turned to see Azriel smoothing it down over your arms. 

“For your walk,” Azriel quietly explained. “You left it on the back of my chair.” 

“Oh!” you chirped, feeling the early licks of embarrassment barrage your chest. It’s not like he heard you talking about him, right? “Thanks, Az. I almost forgot.” 

He offered you one of his soft, rare smiles. “I know. I remembered.” 

He nodded over your head to Cassian after that, and you heard Cassian’s low, I got her, Az, only because you strained your ears. 

You ended up being extremely grateful for Azriel’s forethought to grab your jacket. It was freezing outside. You could have winnowed home instead, but Cassian hadn’t really given you the option and no one ever let you winnow after you’d had something to drink. 

You landed in Summer Court one time and suddenly everyone treated you like a hazard. 

Your shoes scuffed against dark cobblestone as you walked. It was really dark, now that you looked at it. Maybe it had rained? Or a merchant had dumped their excess water? 

Or maybe it was nighttime and you were a little drunk. 

It was then that you noticed the silence. When Cassian walked you home, especially when Cassian was tipsy and he walked you home, he never shut up. So this was unusual. You squinted as you looked up at him, but he gave nothing away, keeping his gaze forward and his steps in steady pace with your own. 

“Okay, out with it,” you accused, crossing your arms over your chest. “What was so funny earlier? And why are you walking me home all stoic?” 

“I’m always stoic. Adds to my charm.” 

“Liar.” 

Cassian smirked, shaking his head, and then schooled his expression into one that was a touch more serious. “You really think Az likes Elain?” 

You watched your breath puff out white. “Don’t you?” 

“No, I don’t.” 

You shot him a skeptical glance. “Well, then you’re wrong. I’m good at picking these things out. I knew Feyre was Rhys’s made before the rest of you figured it out, didn’t I?”

“It was pretty obvious, y/n,” Cassian scoffed. He took a fleeting glance down to the ground beneath your feet. “Honestly, I’d wager that you’re actually the worst at picking these things out.”  

You gaped at him, bringing your coat closer to your body in a ploy to protect your damaged pride. Cassian only shook his head—again—and then flung an arm over your shoulder. 

“Don’t take that the wrong way. Just…take a second look, maybe.” 

“A second look at what? She was practically sitting in his lap tonight.” 

“If you say so,” Cassian hummed. 

“Stop being cryptic and buy me a snack on the way.” 

~~

The following days were… strange to say the least. 

Everywhere you went, Elain of all people was sure to follow.

And she spoke of Azriel. A lot. 

Azriel did this and Az is so sweet isn’t he and oh, did I mention that…

Obviously, she was just as in love with Azriel as he was with her. 

You were so, so right. 

There was something off-putting about that truth, but you couldn’t put your finger on why. After a few days of hearing the younger girl rave about the shadowsinger, you chalked it up to the novelty of it all. You had known Azriel for over a century, and things were changing. Of course a serious love interest in his life would make you feel strange. 

Azriel had had lovers in the past, but—now that you thought about it—you hadn’t heard him talk about another woman in months, much less seen him with one. 

Well, other than Elain. 

Perhaps it wasn’t healthy, nor productive, to be so caught up in Azriel’s love life. He was plenty capable of managing it on his own, and it’s not like you had that much of an interest, anyway. 

You blinked, shaking your head and attempting to focus back in on the book you were reading. Elain had followed you into the library under the house, but thanks to the priestesses and their admonishing looks, she kept quiet. She flipped through her own book as you continued your research assignment from Rhys. It wasn’t very interesting, which was clearly the most plausible explanation for your mind drifting to Azriel. 

Boring texts were the leading cause of nosiness.

“Do you have dinner plans?” Elain whispered after an hour of silence. 

You sent her a small smile, looking up from the archaic book. “No, are you inviting me out?” 

“Perhaps. I was thinking of asking Azriel.” 

A suffocating sort of pressure clawed at your skin. “Oh?” 

That was new. 

“Yes, but I would really appreciate it if you came,” Elain continued, eyes downcast. “It could be fun.” 

You bit into your bottom lip until the pain was uncomfortable. This was no different than her talking about Azriel all week. And you already figured that they liked each other—that they loved each other. You had relished in the discovery just a few nights ago. 

So why did it suddenly feel so different?

“I wouldn't want to intrude,” you whispered. “I think a dinner with just the two of you would be nice. Azriel would surely agree.” 

Elain shook her head. “I think he would be more inclined if he knew you were coming.” 

As a buffer. She was asking you to come to displace any awkwardness that would arise on a first date. You had done it before for Cassian. You’d done it plenty of times for Mor—even making it a double date with random men you never spoke to again. But you’d never done it for Azriel. 

Something about it felt… wrong. 

“I could come,” you found yourself saying anyway, words tumbling out before you could catch them. “But I really do think he would love a dinner alone. I might be a bit of an outlier.” 

Elain gave the closest thing to a smirk you’d seen on her face. “I somehow doubt that.” 

“What does that—” 

The ground was shaking. The faelights began violently flickering and the ground began shaking with even more vigor. You pressed down on the book in front of you and braced yourself as the air grew frenzied. The priestesses ran down the many stairs of the library as panic began setting into your bones. The last time something like this happened… 

You shuddered at the thought. 

This couldn't be an attack on Velaris. 

Elain called your name. You answered with wide eyes. 

“Get under the tables!”

You both dove beneath your table at the call, clutching at the legs with shaking hands. There was a commotion as books fell from shelves and lights popped, but there were no screams. No one was hurt. There was no attack. 

Realization coursed through you, but it did little to quell your fear as the shaking continued. 

“It’s an earthquake!” you shouted to Elain. “It’s okay, we’re going to be fine!” 

Velaris hadn’t been struck by an earthquake of this magnitude in many, many years. The last one was centuries ago, and it had led to many rebuilding efforts and a handful of injuries. You hoped this wasn’t on the same scale. Or at least that Rhys’ magic was enough to abate the worst of the damages. 

After another moment, the shaking ceased. You let the panic and adrenaline run its course as you caught your breath, Elain right beside you. It didn’t seem so bad now that it was over and the building had stayed intact. With a hand at your chest, you shook your head in disbelief. 

“By the cauldron, that was unexpected.” 

Elain let out a shaky laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt an earthquake before.” 

You offered your own breathy laugh as you both got to your feet. “Well, you have plenty of time to get The Mother scared out of you and experience another.” 

She opened her mouth to reply but was abruptly cut off as shadows materialized. Heavy footsteps rushed up stairs and it was only another beat before Azriel was upon you. Scarred hands cradled your face, turning it back and forth as hazel eyes took in every inch of your skin. Light became sparse as wings flared out behind him, shielding you from nothing.

“Are you hurt?” he demanded, voice still low despite the urgency. “Were you covered?” 

“Azriel? What are you—How did you know we were down here?” 

“Are you hurt?” 

You attempted to reconcile the chaotic present with the very calm, very expected past. Sitting in the library with a boring relic in front of you and a new reading partner compared to an earthquake and a frazzled shadowsinger clutching at your face. 

Gripping his wrists, you answered him with a slow and confused, “I’m fine.” 

He closed his eyes as he let out a long breath. “Good…. good.” 

When he released your face, he ran his hands along your hair. And then your shoulders and your arms. It wasn’t until he had touched most of you that he took a step back and ran a hand through his own hair. It was then that he seemed to remember Elain. 

“And are you alright?” he asked, far more composed than he had been a moment ago. 

“A bit overwhelmed, but I am fine as well,” she sighed out. 

Azriel didn’t touch her as he nodded in relief. 

“Was it as bad as the last one? Is everyone okay?” you cut in. 

Azriel, who had gone back to unnecessarily looking you over, furrowed his brows. “What?” 

You mirrored his expression. “The earthquake. Do you remember the last one? Was this one that bad?” 

“Oh. No. Not as bad.” 

“And how is everyone else?” 

“I’m not sure.” 

Azriel was typically short with his answers, but right now he was being particularly short. And he was never one to not have information. Ever. 

“Are you okay?” you asked instead. 

“I am now.”

You left the library wondering why Azriel had run to you and not Elain—why that moment felt so monumental in the face of all others. 

Maybe being right wasn’t what you wanted anymore. 

But maybe that wasn’t your decision to make. 

[alwritey-aphrodite]

still i fall

pairing: Clark Kent x reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: vague descriptions of minor injuries/blood

author’s note: a little follow up to megaphone to my chest with a little bit of role reversal hehehe mostly inspired by the way i found him so incredibly attractive in that opening scene where his face is all bloody <3

When you return back from work, later than you’d prefer, Clark is already home, sitting on the couch with his head tipped back. Sleeping, you think, and the thought warms you, until you see the heavy sigh that inflates his chest before leaving him depleted. 

“You feeling okay?” You call out as you shed your shoes and coat and bag as quickly as possible, desperate to be by his side even if you’re being a little overdramatic, a little overeager. You see him nod, but that does nothing to quell your anxieties, so you cross over to the couch. When you finally see him, face to face in the remaining dregs of evening sunlight filtering through the window, your mouth drops open and fear fills your eyes. 

Clark had been incredibly stupid, and he’s been incredibly slow to realize that. He’d had big plans for this afternoon, plans that involved buying you flowers and ice cream and making you your favorite meal because he’d finally remembered to call your mom about the recipe. Plans that were immediately spoiled when some big, giant thing had decided to eat downtown Metropolis for dinner. 

It hadn’t been much of a fight, if Clark’s being entirely honest. Less than ten minutes, no major injuries, and no major damage to any buildings, besides that chunk of roof that had been hurled at his head. Still desperate to have a nice night ready for you when you returned from the office, he’d forgone a trip to the Fortress and returned to your apartment instead, confident he’d be healed by the time you’d gotten back, if not by the time it took him to walk home.

Instead, you’d wrapped up early, and he hadn’t even started dinner yet. 

“How the hell did this happen?” Your voice is dripping with panic, but when you reach for him your hands are gentle, holding his face like he’s something fragile, breakable. It’s not a feeling he’s used to, but it’s a feeling he’s started to crave the more time he spends with you. You disappear for a moment, returning lightening-fast with a damp washcloth and a box of band-aids and then you’re clambering onto his lap, propping yourself up onto your knees to see his face better, to take stock of all the cuts and bruises amid the blood that seems endless and shockingly red. 

“I fell,” he lies, hands coming to rest on your waist, “going up the stairs.” Really, it had been a building to the face, but that’s not something he can tell you, not yet. 

There’s something pulling him back from telling you the whole truth, and he’s still not quite sure what it is. Clark knows that you’re strong, sturdy, that you can handle the truth and keep loving him anyway, but even the tiniest thought that this would end things makes him hesitate. And he’d never do anything to put you in danger, to knowingly cause you to worry about him even more than you already do.  He’ll tell you soon, he decides, but not tonight, not when you still look so scared, so determined to make things better. 

He’d heal within the hour, if he wanted to stick his face out the window and soak up the last remaining golden rays of light. This, though, is much better. Clark would much rather have you perched in his lap, gently turning his face this way and that as you set your course of action. 

“My clumsy boy,” you murmur before quickly kissing the corner of his mouth, careful to avoid the blood or pressing on a cut while you shift your weight. His heart’s a riot, and he tries to smile up at you but it just makes his split lip push out more blood. He’s selfish, he realizes with a start, so incredibly selfish.

Really, there was no reason for him to go all the way to the Fortress, the extent of his injuries contained to a few cuts and a shoulder knocked out of place, which he fixed all on his own before returning home. Home, to you. Clark had practically raced back to the apartment, desperate to see you, unthinking in his determination about the pain this would cause you. 

The last thing Clark ever wants is to make you upset, to hurt or frighten you in any way, and yet here he is, dripping blood all over the place as his thumbs run soothing lines up and down your waist, as if he’s not the one causing you distress. Something along the lines of embarrassment and shame and disappointment course through him, all directed at himself. 

You can tell he’s gone off somewhere, somewhere where he’s probably senselessly beating himself up over nothing. Sometimes he gets this look in his eyes, and his eyebrows draw down, and you can tell even though he’s right next to you, he’s somewhere far away. As you continue to gently tilt his head to take stock of his injuries, you find a spot on his jaw unmarred by blood and press a soft kiss there. 

“‘M sorry,” he’s quiet, eyes searching your face for any twitch, any signal that you’ve crossed from worry to anger, or something worse. You just shush him, touch gentle but firm as you start to wipe away the blood that’s started to dry with a washcloth that you’ll definitely need to throw out.

“You’ll make your lip start bleeding again,” you’re laser focused, and it’s a strange sensation for him, to be taken care of in this way.

As Superman, he’s used to being revered, to be applauded and aided by people within Metropolis when he needs it. They don’t see him, though, not really. They’re not seeing Clark, they’re not helping Clark, they’re helping Superman, who sometimes feels like another person all together, especially in moments like this. Your touch is so soft it hurts a little, beneath the surface of his skin. It sets all his nerves alight, and all he can do is hold you a little tighter. 

There’s a band-aid gently applied to the cut on his forehead, hair pushed away with one hand as you cleaned it with the other. The bleeding has all but stopped, and Clark knows there won’t even be a mark on him in the morning, that all your care will be for nothing, but he still doesn’t stop you. He doesn’t want to, and that thought tears him up inside.

You move on to his nose next, wiping away the blood, before you do the same with the cut on his bottom lip, where the blood that had been oozing out has thankfully slowed to a trickle. 

“I think you’ll live,” you joke, although your voice is weighty, once all of the blood is gone, leaving only some red splotches and purple bruises along one of his cheekbones.

“All thanks to you,” this time when Clark smiles, the split on his lip doesn’t reopen, his body already healing itself, “I’m sorry, for scaring you. For making you fix me up.”

“You didn’t make me do anything,” you counter, hands coming to rest on the sides of his face, thumbs gently moving back and forth, fitting into the space just below his glasses, “I’m sorry you’ve hurt your pretty face.”

Clark lets out a quiet laugh at that, which is more of an exaggerated exhale through his nose than anything else. You feel his cheeks warm underneath your hands, and you grin down at him. Even after all this time, he still can’t handle the force of your compliments, your affections, and yet he craves them the way some might crave a stiff drink after a long day.

That’s why he raced back home to you, to your gentle touch and your soft words and that teasing smile you get when you know you’ve flustered him, the hero of the city putty in your hands. Maybe that makes him more human than anything else, the way even the mere thought of you manages to cloud his judgement, pushes him towards selfishness, although you’d bat that thought away without a second glance.

You’re so firm in your belief that he’s good and kind and perfect, that somehow you’re the one that doesn’t deserve him although Clark is firm that it’s the other way around. Why else would you have believed his stupid excuse about falling on the stairs, as if he’d fallen right on his face and nowhere else. Why else would you have dug your knees into the cushions beside his legs, bracketing him in so you could clean him up, so you could spend your time washing away the blood on his face when he knows you’ve got a million other things to do.

“Try to be more careful,” your voice is soft but there’s something heavy there, something that makes Clark feel like his breath is caught in his chest. Something knowing. Your eyes are searching his face, avoiding eye contact as you take in his features, the injuries marring the person you love so much you get worried your heart might actually explode. Clark just nods, and then you finally look into his eyes with so much affection that he’s the one worried about keeling over, right there on the couch. 

One of these days, he’ll tell you, and you’ll roll your eyes like he’s said something as obvious as pointing out the weather. You’ll be entirely unsurprised, because you can’t live with someone for months and expect them to never manage to catch a glimpse of you with your glasses off. For now, though, you wait for him to tell you, keeping your secret about his secret all to yourself.

[writinginatree]

You're My Home

Relationship(s): Bodhi Durran/female!healer!reader

Summary: Bodhi's home becomes your home.

Warnings: Iron Flame spoilers, reader is estranged from her family.

Written for @empyreanevents's Tyrrendor Week Day 2: Home.

AO3

Cuir's landing in the valley above Aretia is graceful, but even so, the impact might have been enough to send you tumbling from his back if it weren't for Bodhi's arms around you.

The dragon has barely tucked in his wings when your boyfriend is already on his feet, moving as surefootedly as if he were on solid ground. You gratefully accept the hand he offers to help you rise, your body stiff from the cold wind and having sat in the same position for so long.

Bodhi leads you the few steps to Cuir's shoulder, keeping a tight hold on you to prevent you from slipping on the unfamiliar terrain of the dragon's scales, made even more perilous by the fading light. There, he gathers you into his arms and hops to the ground with the ease of years-long practice. Setting you gently on your feet, he helps you adjust your heavy rucksack, which you'd worn in front of you during the flight. Once it sits properly on your back, Bodhi smoothes down your windblown hair, and gives a satisfied nod.

"There," he mumbles.

You kiss his cheek. "Thank you."

You're very glad he didn't let you try to dismount yourself — landing on your feet from that height isn't something your training in the Healer Quadrant included, though with your pack full of medical supplies, you at least would have been well-equipped to deal with any resulting injuries.

Bodhi smiles and gives you an actual kiss in return.

After bowing your head to Cuir in silent thanks for making the exception of carrying you, you take in the valley you landed in. The space is rapidly filling with dragons of every color as the rest of the riot descends around you, a nearby tree falling victim to some dragon's slashing tail. Golden eyes gleam everywhere in the falling dusk, sharp teeth and claws catching the last rays of sunlight.

You take a step closer to Bodhi, all too aware of how your light-blue uniform must stand out to all those predators, even with Bodhi's flight jacket over your tunic. You may all be on the same side, but that's no guarantee none of the beasts won't make a meal of you if it decides you're standing too close or looked at it wrong. The only one of them you fully trust not to kill you is Cuir, since he tolerated your presence on his back all the way here from Basgiath without showing any signs of antipathy toward you.

If someone had told you two days ago that you would ever stand amidst so many dragons, let alone ride on one, you would have examined them for a concussion or referred them to a superior specializing in mental illnesses. Even now, it feels like a dream, though the pounding of your heart and the numbness the cold wind has caused in your hands and face prove the opposite.

Though the riot had stayed in the cover of the clouds as much as possible, the glimpses you got of the land far beneath were mind-blowing. Not just because of how far you were from the ground, but also because of how much of the ground there was — more than you could have ever imagined. Of course you'd known how big Navarre is in theory, had seen maps of the Continent, but to actually see all those forests, mountains, and grassy plains passing underneath you gave you a whole new level of understanding of it.

Having spent your whole life in Chantara, you'd never seen more of the world than what lay within half a day's walk of the small village. Never before did you have reason or opportunity to venture farther — your family has lived in Chantara for generations, running one of the small stores supplying the war college. Far from adventurous, your parents never saw a reason to travel anywhere with you. Neither of them has ever left the village, and if it were up to them, you would have stayed there for the rest of your life, too, just like they had, and your grandparents before them. As their only child, you had been supposed to someday take over the store — an expectation you'd been aware of since you were a child, but that was never actually voiced, as if it were a given and didn't need to be talked about.

Naturally, your parents disapproved when you decided to instead join Basgiath to become a healer. Not just that it threw all their precious plans for the future into upheaval; despite the fact that almost all their customers came from the war college, your family wanted nothing to do with the actual war. They loved their safe little village, and wanted to know nothing of the big, dangerous world beyond it. Joining the military, even as a healer, was far too dangerous, they said. After graduation, you would still be stationed on the front, just like the soldiers; would be killed like them, too, if any of those nasty gryphon riders ever breached the border. Little did your family know that much worse things lurked out there.

You had listened to their fear mongering, pretended to rethink your decision, but when Conscription Day had come around, you were out of the door at sunrise.

Living at Basgiath was strange at first, despite the close proximity to your home — maybe because of it, because you weren't far from your family, and yet didn't get to see them during that first year. But you'd quickly made friends — a certain marked rider among them — and gotten used to military life. When your second year came around and with it visits to Chantara, you were no longer the girl who had left the village a year before.

Your parents felt it, too, and though they welcomed you whenever you dropped by, awkward tension hung in the air every time. When they learned you were dating a marked one, they grew even more distant, despite having never even met Bodhi, and soon, you stopped visiting altogether.

You haven't seen your parents since the past winter, haven't even written to them; why bother, when they never reached out to you, either?

You wonder what they would think if they could see you now, all the way in Tyrrendor, outside the Vale's protective wards. Wonder if anyone told them you deserted, what kind of cover-up story leadership has invented and whether your family will believe it. Are they calling you a traitor right now, cursing you for falling in with Bodhi and his people? Or do they know you well enough to know you wouldn't join a rebellion without good reason? Do they wish you ill, or pray only that you are safe somewhere?

With a sigh, you shake those thoughts. It's useless to dwell on things you cannot control. You're right where you want to be — by Bodhi's side. Anything else is secondary.

You look on as he talks to his executive officer, the two of them making sure the cadets in their section all landed safely.

The flight was long — all of yesterday night, plus the whole day today — with only one brief stop to water the dragons, and as exhilarating as it was, you're glad to be back on solid ground now. Your whole body aches from sitting on Cuir's back for so long, trying your best to hold on so Bodhi wouldn't have to put as much effort into holding you.

Looking around at the riders nearby, quite a few of them seem a little stiff, too. First-years, mainly, who are not yet used to such long flights, but even some of the older cadets are wincing as they stretch.

Gods, your butt hurts. You'll never again complain about having to be on your feet all day as a healer — sitting for so long, especially on a moving creature, is definitely worse.

When Bodhi's section is complete, you all make for the open side of the valley that overlooks the settlement below. A steep path leads downward, and you're very glad Bodhi took the time to find you a pair of rider boots before your departure. In the comfortable flats you usually wear, you would have been slipping and sliding all the way down.

Bodhi smiles at you, gesturing at the city which lies beyond the trail. "Welcome to Aretia."

The sun has as good as disappeared behind the horizon, but there's still just enough light to make out the town and it's fortress. That's Riorson House, you realize — Bodhi's childhood home, and the destination of this journey.

"It's beautiful."

"The town used to be much bigger," he says with a sad smile. "A real city. But it's still amazing how much has been rebuilt since they burnt it all down."

"To me it still seems big" you say, hoping it doesn't sound dismissive. While you can't relate to the losses Bodhi went through during the rebellion, the razing of a whole city horrifies and enrages you too. It's just that compared to your own small village — the only place you ever knew — the town seems big enough that you never ever want to walk its streets without a map or the company of someone who knows their way around.

Bodhi's grin widens, that shadow of sorrow leaving his eyes. "Yeah, I guess it would when you've never seen a real city," he teases.

"I'm not sure I ever want to see a real city," you admit as the two of you start down the path. "I'll probably get hopelessly lost even here."

"I'll make sure not to let you go anywhere alone, then. Though I think you would manage to find your way back to Riorson House if you did get lost."

"Probably."

Carved into the mountainside and taller than the other buildings you can see, the fortress is indeed hard to miss.

The rest of the walk passes mostly in silence, all of you weary and wary — you saw no signs of the forces remaining loyal to Navarre on the flight here, but that doesn't mean they won't find you.

At the fortress, it's pure chaos, despite the efforts of the marked ones to retain some semblance of order. Clearly, Aretia was not prepared for so many people. You can't really blame them for being a little bewildered, considering they didn't get so much as a warning before a hundred riders plus three scribes and a healer showed up on their doorstep.

Bodhi takes you to his room before anyone can even think about confining you somewhere like they did with the scribes the second they saw them. Telling you to make yourself at home, he points out the bathing chamber attached to his room and pecks your lips, before returning downstairs to fullfil his section leader duty and see that the other cadets are taken care of.

Though you try to wait up, you're fast asleep mere moments after settling into Bodhi's bed, hair still damp from your bath.

A few days later, the excitement has died down, and a routine has been established.

Aretia's healers are glad to have an extra pair of helping hands, seeing as the secrecy of the town's existence means they're severely understaffed. You may only be a cadet, but as a third-year, you have learned all the essentials already, only lacking hands-on experience and more specialized knowledge, which your new superiors are happy to pass on to you.

Not that they're entrusting you with any particularly difficult tasks just yet — you get to treat smaller injuries on your own, and when one of the older healers has a free minute they question you on theoretical knowledge, filling in any gaps they find, but for the most part, you clean surgery tools, collect herbs, or mix salves and tinctures. A lot of it is first-year work, but since you're the only healer cadet here, you suppose it makes sense it's you being handed those tasks. You don't mind. In fact, you quite enjoy being sent out to collect any medicinal plants you can find before the fast-approaching winter destroys them; you've always liked being outdoors.

The best part of living in Aretia, however, is waking up next to Bodhi every morning, and how much more time you can spend with him compared to Basgiath.

No more sneaking him into the Healer Quadrant for a few stolen kisses, no more longing to see him but being unable to because not even healers are allowed to enter the Riders Quadrant. Now you get to see him whenever you want, get to sit with him at mealtimes and have him drop by to say hi between classes, can even creep into the gym to watch his sparring sessions if you want.

You've never been so far from the place you've always lived in, and yet you've never felt so at home. Like this is where you belong, the place you've been longing for your whole life without even knowing it.

Domestic bliss, that's what this is.

While Bodhi is in the shower, you sit by the window, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders against the autumn chill the glass gives off, a textbook on Tyrrendor's native plants and their medicinal uses open on your lap. You stopped reading minutes ago, distracted by the view you have over the surrounding area from here.

You have yet to venture into the town itself, though you've already become well-acquainted with the surrounding countryside, thanks to the hours spent gathering herbs with one of the oldest healers here — a gray-haired woman with hands so gnarled she can no longer hold a blade to perform surgeries, but whose eyes and mind remain sharp, a seemingly endless well of knowledge. In less than a week, she has already taught you more than some of your professors at Basgiath did in all your time there.

You're so deep in thought you don't hear Bodhi exiting the bathing chamber, only noticing him when he comes to stand beside you, softly asking if you're homesick.

You suppose you must have looked a little lost, gazing out into the landscape like that. It's a beautiful view, one you'll never get enough off, the only sight you enjoy even more that of the man behind you. Your old home is the farthest thing from your mind when you look at it.

"No," you say, shaking your head with a soft smile as you turn to face Bodhi. "I was just thinking how much I love this place. I'd be perfectly happy to stay here forever and never see Chantara or Basgiath ever again. Besides — you're my home, Bodhi. We could go anywhere in the world and I would not feel out of place as long as you're by my side."

He smiles at that, leaning in to capture your lips.

"You're my home too," he mumbles into the kiss. "But I'm glad you like Aretia, because it looks like we'll be here for some time."

[cosmerelists]

Bad Romance Novel Lines from Across the Cosmere

Surely every world has romance novels, even those of the Cosmere. And surely all of them have romance novels with...unfortunately written lines. Here are some bad romance lines you might find across the Cosmere.

"Her bosom heaved like twin boulders tossed upwards by a Highstorm." (Roshar)

"Her fingers slid from her glove one by one, like tiny sausages popping from their casing." (Roshar)

"As she gazed at the shirtless, blue-eyed Mistborn, she felt her lust Riot and her inhibitions Soothe. He Pulled her to him." (Scadrial)

"'I'm burning tin so I can feel all of you,' he whispered." (Scadrial)

"As a man of the Third Heightening, I could see all of the many, perfect colors that swirled in her hazel eyes. 'Awooga,' I whispered." (Nalthis)

"The beautiful Drab threw a passionate hand against her bosom. 'If I had Breath, you would have taken it away!' she cried passionately." (Nalthis)

"'No,' he growled. 'You and I are like aether and water. If we touch, neither of us would survive the encounter!'" (Lumar)

"She stared at his member, as big and taut as the Sorceress's tower." (Lumar)

"'I may be an elite member of the Dreamwatch,' he whispered hoarsely, 'but when i Watch you, I know that you are my Dream.'" (Komashi)

"She stared at his glistening chest. His abs were round and stacked, like a perfectly balanced pile of rocks." (Komashi)

"She knew that his Passion burned like the Sun, just as Quick, just as Deadly, and just as Intent on Catching her." (Canticle)

"In that moment, her heart burned so fiercely that she might as well have been a Charred." (Canticle)

"His member burst forth like a Sandling erupting from the desert sand." (Taldain)

"And in that moment, I decided: I would cover my heart in sand, keep my feelings buried, until the pure water of his confessed love caused them to rise up." (Taldain)

"The wounds of this betrayal would never heal--never!--like a stubbed toe in Elantris before its restoration." (Sel)

"'My Domin(at)ion shows my Devotion,' he purred, pulling the ropes tighter." (Sel)

"'My Twinborn powers don't matter!' he cried passionately. 'The only twins I care about are those!' And he gestured at the twin mounds on her chest." (Scadrial)

"'I wish I was a Slider so that we could make this moment stretch forever,' he whispered, holding her. 'That sounds really expensive' she murmured back." (Scardrial)

" 'The real Everstorm is the one that rages in my HEART!' he cried raggedly." (Roshar)

"Eagerly, she unsheathed his Shardblade but then paused, in awe. It was really more of a Shardhammer. And she couldn't WAIT to get smashed."

[3liza]

i know ive done hundreds of hours of either actual protesting or doing equipment and training prep for protesting and then another hundred hours of research about riot weapon mitigation and maybe someone remembers and was expecting me to Post about it again but i just cant do a big posting marathon about it this time im sorry.

so heres the short version of what i have learned through personally being chemically attacked multiple times in multiple protests, and doing hundreds of hours of research in medical literature.. take it or leave it.

probably the single most important thing i can tell you is wear some kind of head protection (a head injury is the #1 way people get seriously hurt and killed at protests. i dont care if it looks dumb, wear a helmet).

one thing about chemical weapons is they are all different and sometimes you can make shit worse for one chemical by treating another. at the riot you wont know for sure what youve been exposed to because police use mixed products specifically to make treatment harder.

the best riot weapon treatment is to avoid being sprayed, gassed or shot in the first place. wear a helmet. wear protective clothing and if you have it, armor. buy a respirator or gas mask with an unused nato nbc filter, and do not use milk for tear gas or chemical treatment in your eyes. water is not really effective for a lot of exposures either but wont injure you, it will however often cause additional pain because riot weapons are often in oil based carriers and wont wash off with water and are designed to activate when they come into contact with it. ie, the water will make it hurt more until it wear off/evaporates.

^^^^ this thing should b e standard issue protest equipment for all street medics and i dont know why they arent except that people just dont know they exist. i want these to be the new meta. fill them with clean water or preferably saline (contact solution) before going in. the cup goes over your eyeball and then you squeeze and your eyeball gets sprayed off, which is the procedure that is hardest to accomplish in the middle of a protest because tear gas makes you clench your eyes closed involuntarily. a good street medic will basically restraint you like a dog at the vet and pry your eyelids open to rinse your eyes. this is a lot easier to accompkish with the proper equipment

you should be carrying sterile saline or lactated ringer for chemical weapon flushing, and you should get an eyewash bottle from a medical or industrial supply. or amazon. if you cant buy lactated ringer then those big bottles of contact solution with the little spray tips are also good because you can use the water pressure to spray chemical particulate off the affected surface while rinsing. sudecon and other chemical weapon ntreatment wipes also work somewhat but last time i looked into it years ago, it was very hard to source and purchase, expensive, and had limited efficacy

i did all the research on this and this was the conclusion of many papers and many military and police tests that i read.

additionally, rinsing your eyes with the lactated ringer BEFORE being contacted by riot weapons worked better in one trial than trying to treat exposure afterwards. no one tested this but i suspect that generously applying Visine to your eyes, mouth, and nostrils before getting gassed or sprayed would have a very similar mitigating effect

for skin surface treatment in the field, a 50/50 mixture of water and liquid antacid (referred to as LAW) is effective for some agents and wont hurt for the others. unfortunately the majority of chemical agents have to evaporate off you to stop hurting. all the serious, EMT-trained and experienced street medics i know carry and use LAW. i have used it on patients and on myself and i think it's more effective than water.

this web page concentrates a lot of the information and challenges about this stuff into a short amount of reading. i dont know anything about the site or the owners but the information on just this page agrees with what i found in my own research.

people will argue with me about this because theres a shitload of "folk wisdom" about protesting like the onion thing etc and most of it is straight bullshit that has been reinforced through superstition. since riot weapons wear off after a period of time, a lot of people will put stupid shit on their burns and then claim it "works" when the pain inevitably stops after X minutes. stick to saline and water if you dont know what youre doing, then wash your skin with dish soap when you get home and isolate your poisoned clothes immediately. using a clean oil and then soaping it off in a shower can help too but ONLY if you are removing the oil completely (dish soap again). oil is not a good field treatment and will make things worse if you apply it without soaping it off.

also for reasons probably related to nicotinic receptors, smoking a cigarette after tear gas inhalation helps with acute recovery. i dont know why, and it probably is obnly going to work for people who have smoking experience. there's no research about this, its purely personal observation

dehydration will make you sick and crazy and stupid faster than you think it will, so will low blood sugar. bring candy bars and water and salt to eat during the protest. bring extra to give to people.

as always, if someone is exhibiting asthma or anaphylaxis symptoms they need actual medical attention asap

reblogs off because i dont want to deal with the inevitable panic-based arguments this information always triggers

[love-of-fandoms]

Little Bird (Rob Lucci x Reader)

Inspired by @sunandflame , Queen you are keeping the Lucci tag alive and I thank you mightily for your service.

A/N: I've had this idea forever about a character in One Piece with big wings who fell from Skypeia as a child and because One Piece with training and discipline were able to get to the point where they could actually use their wings. Anyway this is that OC basically inserted as a reader so I can write some Lucci fanfic. He has me by the horns and I did in fact speedwrite this in two hours.

Pairing: Rob Lucci x Reader

Fandom: One Piece

Wordcount: 6253 words

Warnings: AFAB reader, they/them pronouns, Rob Lucci is his own warning, smut, oral, reader has long hair, can be read as any race, humiliation, some predator/prey

You could tell the new Galley-La foreman didn’t trust anybody as far as his pigeon could throw them(he’d trust people a lot more if it was as far as he could throw them, you knew because you’d seen him toss an unruly pirate out to see all the way from Dock One). Beautiful, but painfully stoic, he kept to himself, speaking through his pigeon and not seeming to give anyone the time of day besides Paulie and Kaku, the other new addition.

His pigeon was a riot though. Whenever he would say something “through Hattori”, the bird would immediately follow up with some snarky commentary:

“Paulie, you shouldn’t tarnish Icebarg’s name with your foolish gambling~coo coo!” He’d say in that silly high pitched voice he used for Hattori.

“Yeah, cuz you sure care about Icebarg’s name, you psychopath,”

Or:

“Get home safely, Tilestone! You had a bit much to drink!” 

“Please let him fall in the canal, he’s so annoying,”

Your Talk-Talk fruit, which you had consumed shortly after falling from your homeland of Skypeia as a child, allowed you to speak to anything with a soul. It came in very handy as a shipwright at Galley-La, allowing you to ask ships what they needed instead of doing a full inspection. It also allowed you to hear every confusing thing Hattori said to complement Lucci’s speech.

You had commented on Hattori’s speech one day at the bar with the other foreman, much to Lucci’s surprise.

“You know, Lucci, your bird is always calling you a psychopath,” you failed to notice the way Lucci’s first clenched around his glass of brandy, causing small cracks in it. “But to me it seems like he’s the real psychopath. I think he might kill Tilestone someday soon,” Lucci narrowed his eyes slightly, but you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He seemed to be searching for something in your eyes, but you had no idea what. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

“I didn’t realize your devil fruit allowed you to talk to animals as well as ships~coo coo!” He said after a moment. You thought him breaking the silence would dissipate the tense feeling you had in your shoulders and wings, as if you should flee, but instead you felt a crushing dread in the pit of your stomach. Lucci was never unserious, but the severity of his gaze left you incredibly nervous. 

“Um… yeah, the Talk-Talk fruit lets me talk to anything with a soul,” you nodded, taking a sip of the cheap ale Paulie got you to try and shake the nervous feeling you had. “Which is why it’s so hard to talk to you sometimes, eh?” you tried cracking a joke to clear the mood, but when did Lucci ever have a sense of humor?

“HAHAHAHA! DON’T TAKE THAT TO HEART, LUCCI! THEY’VE USED THAT LINE ON ALL OF US!” Tilestone was there to-well breaking the tension wouldn’t exactly be the word, would it? The sheer volume of his voice left both you and Lucci puffed up like cats. You pouted.

“You know, you’re not supposed to just immediately ruin my delivery like that, it’s not very sporting of you,” you muttered, grabbing another sip of your ale.

“Please Lucci for the love of god, if you kill any of them let it be this one,” Hattori piped up, to which you let out a very loud guffaw.

“Hattori, you’re such a fucked up little bird,” you chided, standing from your chair and giving the bird a little two finger salute. “Have a good night, gentlemen, I’m off for a midnight flight,” The guys wished you goodnight with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Lucci nodded his head, eyes still very intently studying you, making you all the more eager to get the hell out of dodge.

You exited Blueno’s with your wings still twitching, unable to shake the feeling Lucci’s intense stare had given you. You felt the need to run-the need to fly far far away into the sky where he couldn’t reach you. You felt the need to check every dark crevice and cranny in the night to make sure no predator was stalking somewhere it shouldn’t.

Rob Lucci made you feel like prey sometimes, and it never made a lick of sense.

You shot up into the sky, still intent on taking your nightly flight. Since you had fallen as a child, you hadn’t stopped trying to return to your homeland in the clouds. You would flap and flap your wings, and by the time you wound up on Water 7 what previously had been ornamental wings the size of your forearms on your back were huge, powerful wings that could carry you through the air. Not 10,000 meters into the air, but high enough. You made it a point to train every night, hoping one day to return. You remembered a family, vaguely, an annoying, hotheaded twin brother you went through hell for, a statue of a proud warrior in the middle of your town, the feeling of clouds beneath your feet as opposed to solid ground.

You propelled yourself through the clouds above Water 7, diving and looping, surveying the island below. You were at this for about a half hour when something caught your eye: a silhouette seemingly running through the air. Was it Kaku? You knew that he had that odd skill. You dove down, wanting to say hello if it was, and check it out if it wasn’t. You held a palm out, waving and preparing to shout a ‘hello’ down to the figure when-

“Shave!” your momentum was very suddenly disturbed by a body tackling yours, sending you veering to the left. A strong(too strong) hand around your forearm stopped you from falling completely out of the sky, and suddenly you were face to face with-rather, you were dangling below-the one and only Rob Lucci.

You were struck-momentarily-by how devastatingly beautiful he was. Maybe it was because there was rarely any emotion on his face, but there was something intoxicating about bearing witness to the snarl that took his lip, the slightly askew tophat from tackling you. His grey eyes glinted with something you still couldn’t figure out, and damn if it wasn’t breathtaking.

But now was not the time to ogle! Your arm was sore and only hurting more every passing second his grip remained around it.

“What the hell, Lucci?!” you demanded, trying to yank your forearm free, but it felt like it was stuck in an iron clamp. “I thought you were Kaku! I’m sorry for startling you-fuck!” you cursed in pain at his grip, and he finally relented, letting your arm go and dropping to the roof of a nearby building, indicating for you to join him.

“Apologies for hurting you~coo coo! I was startled to see someone else in the sky!” He said. You scowled at him, the fear from earlier replaced with rage from being ragdolled midflight.

“I’m the one with wings, I think that should be my line!” you retorted, rubbing at the spot where he grabbed you. “Didn’t know you could run on air, too,” Lucci shrugged, Hattori mimicking the motion.

“We grew up on the same island, so we learned how to do it together~coo coo!” he said in explanation.

“Is that the story? Does Kaku know this?” sometimes the things Hattori said were downright bizarre. It made you wonder about Lucci-what was he hiding that had his bird calling him out in ways you couldn’t comprehend all the time? You must have made a face, because suddenly Lucci was closer. You didn’t see him take a step, but he was nose to nose with you in an instant.

“What did he say?” a deep voice demanded, and you felt his breath puff against your lips as he spoke. Your eyes widened, both at hearing his real voice for the first time, and at the coldness of the tone. He sounded like he’d kill you if he didn’t like the answer, and all of a sudden that feeling was back. 

Why do I feel like this? There’s no reason for me not to trust Lucci-besides the weird shit his bird says, but really-he’s done nothing but help us at Galley-La. He’s helped me save Paulie’s dumbass a few times now, and besides being crazy strong he’s just a normal shipwright, not some psycho murderer. Calm down!

“Um… he asked if Kaku knows about that?” you winced. “I’m sorry, what he says doesn’t always make sense,” Lucci huffed, leaning back slightly to give you an inch-and just an inch-of space.

“Damn bird, doesn’t know the trouble he stirs,” he muttered, fists clenching and unclenching as he continued to stare at you intently, something going on behind his eyes that you were not privy to: a decision, perhaps? 

“He’s definitely an odd one,” you chimed in, giggling a bit. “A lot of murderous intent in such a little body. I mean it, he really hates Tilestone,” Lucci seemed to stand down at this, whatever calculation that was going on in his brain decided. The corner of his lip quirked up in what couldn’t scientifically be considered a smile.

“I believe you shoved him into the canal just the other week for being too loud,” he said, keeping his voice muted, as if speaking any louder would break the spell and he’d have to return to his pigeon voice. Why he wasn’t using it right now, you couldn’t fathom.

“Well, yeah, but he got out just fine,” you muttered, scratching behind your ear and averting your gaze. Okay, maybe you and Hattori did agree about how annoying Tilestone was. Lucci just scoffed.

“That just means you didn’t do a good enough job,” your eyes shot back up to his, trying to gauge his expression. Did Rob Lucci just make a joke? To you?

Joke or not, the laughter bubbled up out of your throat. “You should talk more Lucci, I think you might be just as murderous and amusing as your pigeon,” He seemed taken aback by that, eyes wide as he watched you laugh.

“You have no idea,” was all Hattori had to contribute.

After that, you went out of your way to bother Rob Lucci-or Hattori-at work. Sometimes, the man wouldn’t give you the time of day, but that was fine, because as previously stated: his pigeon was a riot.

“Did you notice how the last pirate that came through here had a talking parrot?” Hattori asked as his owner pounded away with his hammer. You were weaving the rope for the ladders along the masts, so you sat beside Lucci as he worked and chatted with Hattori. Getting to admire Lucci’s biceps as he swung away was a small bonus that you really didn’t think about at all when deciding where to set up with your work-okay you were really there to admire Lucci, but Hattori was great company as well!

“Oh yeah, it was some big macaw, right?” Lucci’s eyes darted to you, as they often did when you spoke to his pigeon. It was a look you knew well with your devil fruit: the look of someone who would give anything to hear both sides of the conversation.

“Well I fucking killed it!” the bird crowed, puffing his chest out in pride. You paused in your work with the rope, placing it down for a moment to give Hattori a horrified look.

“Are you serious?” you demanded, and Lucci’s eyes bore into you with a newfound intensity. You turned to him for a moment with the look of a disappointed parent. “He’s saying he killed that last pirate’s parrot,” you told him, and Lucci’s face twisted in a brief grimace of acknowledgement. “You knew?!” he nodded. “Maybe you guys are psychopaths,” you muttered, getting back to your rope work.

The winged Galley-La foreman was either dumb as rocks, or a little bit of a sociopath themselves at this point. When Lucci first realized that not only did their devil fruit allow them to understand Hattori, but his pigeon had been saying psychotic, unhinged shit, the entire time. 

Luckily, whether it was the slight crush on him (that of course he picked up on), or they just genuinely didn’t care to connect the dots, or on the very unlikely end were too dumb to connect them, they seemed not to be able to put together the painfully obvious hints that Hattori was dropping that Lucci was not who he said he was. In fact, they seemed to spend more time with him because of his sadistic bird.

Usually, Lucci would be upset about someone attaching themselves to him while undercover, but he found he didn’t mind their presence. They could be a little silly, but they seemed to understand the value of silence, a virtue he valued greatly. There was also that delicious look they would get sometimes: the fear of being in the presence of a stronger, faster, predator mixed with the confusion of not being able to recognize that the predator was right in front of them. The way their wings would twitch sometimes as if they wanted to fly away from him, but simultaneously their eyes would bore into him greedily as if he were some tragic artist’s most beautiful piece.

It made him… feel things. Not something so quaint as affection, but an attraction. A need to take. A need to show them they were right to be afraid, that he was fearsome, but that he could be fearsome for them, that they need not fear the beast but let it consume them.

It was a dangerous line of thought, one he often nipped in the bud if he found his mind straying down that path, and Rob Lucci was nothing if not an efficient, emotionless killing machine.

But he still found himself allowing them to impose on him. To work near him during their days at Dock One. To take the seat next to him at Blueno’s bar(when did they start regularly tagging along with him and Paulie?). To ask for his company on a flight after Paulie ditched them one drink in one fateful Friday night.

“Well I’m glad he struck out,” you sighed, standing from your chair with a stretch as the two of you watched Paulie practically strut out of the bar with a pretty brunette tourist. You and Lucci approached the bar to pay your respective tabs, which each of you thought would be quite a bit higher that night. You bit your lip, wondering if you should even try to ask Lucci what you wanted. If a prudish idiot like Paulie could get lucky tonight, maybe you could get lucky asking for a bit more of your too-handsome coworker’s time?

“You’re thinking really hard about something, there~coo coo!” Lucci piped up, startling you out of your reverie. You blushed, shifting from foot to foot nervously as you decided to just bite the bullet.

“Uh… I was just wondering, no worries if not, but I was going for a flight after this, and I thought it might be fun, maybe, if we went… together?” you stumbled your way through the invitation, gaze planted firmly on the floor and not seeing the way one half of Lucci’s mouth curled up in a smirk. “That sounds silly, I’m sorry, we don’t have to,” you started to speak again, barely even giving him time to answer and waving your hands in dismissal, but a large calloused hand gripped your wrist, prompting you to look at the man it was attached to.

“Could be fun~coo coo!” he responded, and you definitely weren’t hallucinating the slight upturn you saw to his lips! You grinned at him, strolling out of the bar with him eagerly, wings already twitching and ready to unfurl.

“Really? That’s great!” you gushed, much more excited than you should be for something that was essentially an overly complicated run together.

Once you were outside, you unfurled your wings and immediately took to the sky, laughing gleefully when Lucci shot himself up to be right next to you, careful not to get in the way of your downstrokes but still close enough to communicate with. Hattori fluttered off, seemingly not as interested in your midnight flight.

“How high have you gone?” you asked, and Lucci shot you a look as if you were the strangest creature he’d ever laid eyes upon.

“Never kept track, you?” you were surprised to hear his real voice again, after so many weeks since that first time you caught him in the sky. Your wings faltered for a moment, and you felt your cheeks heat with embarrassment at the brief blunder.

“Uh… 6,200 meters is my record!” his eyes widened, and you felt a rush of pride at his expression. “I have an altitude measure, if you want to find out how far you can go,” you offered. Gods, what a weird date. You thought to yourself, but quickly rid yourself of the thought. Not a date, just hanging out with a coworker. Lucci grinned at you.

“Is that a challenge?” he asked, and you shrugged.

“I mean, I was born 10,000 meters in the sky, so my lungs can breath the air up there better, but I have no idea how a normal human would handle going that far-” you would have continued, but Lucci was already climbing, and climbing fast. It took all you had to keep up with him. “You could’ve let me finish, jerk!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, all I heard was a challenge,” he quipped, still climbing steadily, and you huffed, pulling out your altitude reader and following him as he climbed, occasionally calling out to him how high you had gone.

At about 5,000 meters, he started to slow, and you piped up. “Make sure you have the energy for the descent! Free falling is fun, but you need to be able to catch yourself if that’s the plan!” you saw the beads of sweat, had heard his heavy breathing for a minute, and were honestly getting a little worried about having to catch him on the way down. He shook his head, determined. “Alright, don’t make me have to save you!” But he continued to climb, until eventually.

“Oh my god, 6,400! I haven’t even made it this far!” you were panting heavily and your wings were sore as hell, but part of you was elated to be pushed this far. Lucci was also looking winded, but the out of control grin on his face when you told him he beat your previous record took what was left of your breath away. His elated gaze met yours, and for a moment you swore you saw a fang in his grin, before he was beginning his descent. You followed after him, over the moon at having beat your record and seen Rob Lucci’s smile.

“Hey Lucci!” you called to him as you descended. “How do you feel about one more challenge?” you asked, and he got that beautiful glint in his eyes again, the one that made you feel simultaneously like you were in danger and that you were the most special person in Water 7.

“What do you have in mind?” he asked, and you grinned at him.

“Race you to Dock One!” you called, and before he could really have time to process it, you tucked your wings close to your body and dove. You heard the echoes of a deep laughter get lost in the wind, and while part of you lamented not getting to hear his laugh, another part of you delighted at the way the evening was going. Tonight you had unlocked a-dare you say it-playful side of Rob Lucci. It felt like nothing was impossible.

You suddenly felt a presence right next to you, and a voice sounded from directly above you.

“Are you sure you want to play a game of chase with me, little bird?” His deep voice sent shivers down your spine, and you squealed gleefully, giving your wings a pump to change your direction before settling them even closer to your body, willing yourself to gain even more speed. This time you heard his laughter, because it was right behind you. 

The ground was fast approaching, so you unfurled your wings, and started to weave through the buildings atop Water 7, making your way to Dock One. You were blindsided when you felt a hand grab and yank your foot slightly, veering you off course and slowing you down. Lucci’s laughter followed tauntingly, and you felt a gust of wind as he zipped by you. You groaned, pumping your wings with renewed vigor to try and catch up, but the Dock was already in sight and you knew it was already lost.

You landed in front of the huge Dock One doors, deserted because of the time of night. Lucci was already leaning against them, arms crossed with a smirk on his face.

“So what do I win?” he asked, pushing off the door to invade your space, standing nose to nose with you in a scene that gave you deja-vu. Your eyes widened as he took another step, pressing his chest to yours, and there was that feeling again, the feeling that you really were just a little bird and that this big bad predator was going to snatch you up if you didn’t do something. 

But what a beautiful predator to be caught by, you decided, refusing to step back and meeting his gaze with whatever bravery you could muster. He seemed pleased with that, smirk widening into an almost-smile.

“Do I get to choose?” he pressed, voice almost a whisper, and you nodded, voice completely lost to you.

And then he was kissing you. His large hands framed your face completely as he all but yanked you into him, forcing you onto your tiptoes just to meet his lips. If you had been foolish enough to expect gentleness in Rob Lucci’s touch, you found there was none, his hands demanding, his grip almost too tight when one hand wound its way into your hair and the other to the small of your back. You were crushed to Rob Lucci, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Your arms went around his back, and you found yourself consumed by him. He took complete control of the kiss, using his grip on your hair to angle your face how he wanted it, nipping at your lips and sliding his tongue out to taste your mouth.

His hand in your hair yanked your head back, his lips trailing down your chin and along the side of your neck, biting down hard-almost too hard-when they met the junction of your neck and shoulder. Everything was almost too much with him, the strength of his grip, his kisses, the way he crushed your body to his so completely you barely had room to breathe.

“One more flight?” he asked, pulling away from you ever so slightly, just enough to allow you to answer. You panted, breathless for a moment.

“Yours or mine?” you breathed out, and he smirked a bit.

“We can do without scandalizing Kaku, don’t you think?” he prompted, and you nodded, shakily spreading your wings to get ready for the flight home. Lucci huffed, looping an arm around your waist and pulling you to him before you could take off. “Just one kiss and you’re already this dazed?” he teased, and you would have argued, said something clever in response, if his next movement hadn’t been to sweep out your legs and start carrying you through the sky to your apartment.

“Lucci!” you shrieked in surprise, and you were blessed with his deep laughter once again.

“I thought you were supposed to woo someone by sweeping them off their feet?” he prodded, and your cheeks burned with heat.

“Careful Lucci, I’ll accuse you of romance next!” you teased back, and his eyes flashed down to you with a light smirk.

“Well we can’t have that,” he muttered before dropping you on your feet in front of your apartment. Before you could even turn and start to unlock the door he had yanked you into another filthy kiss, a hand sneaking down to firmly grab your ass as he did so. You moaned softly into the kiss, digging around in your pockets for your keys as he seemed to suck the very breath out of you. The sensations were too overwhelming: his hair brushing against your cheeks softly as his mouth devoured you anything but softly. His hand not occupied with your butt had found its way back into your hair and was yanking with abandon.

Finally your hand grasped your keys, and you were able to pull them out of your pocket and shove Lucci away long enough to get them in the lock and get you both through the door. Then he was back in control, slamming you against the door with strength you couldn’t forget he had even if you tried and shoving a leg between your thighs to press against your crotch. You were lifted up onto your tiptoes by the motion and he bent down to leave more demanding kisses and bites at your neck, delighting in your shivers and moans as he did.

“I hope you’re not expecting romance,” he murmured darkly against your collarbone, flinging his tophat off and beginning to work on the buttons of your shirt. “I will not be gentle, or loving, or even kind,” he warned as his hands brushed your breasts on the way down, and you clenched your thighs around his in anticipation.

“Good things I’m not looking for any of that,” you responded, voice breathy and a bit higher than you remember it. Lucci smirked at you, looping his hands around your thighs and lifting you from against the door, beginning to carry you further into your apartment. You directed him between kisses and moans, squealing when he flung you onto your bed, quickly following you and pinning you to the mattress with a hand on your neck. His other hand trailed down your chest, ghosting over your breasts and stomach before coming to rest in the waistband of your pants, fingers teasing into your slit to gather the barest trace of your juices before withdrawing. He held the same fingers up to your lips, the command not even having to be spoken for you lips to open lewdly, tongue lolling out to accept his fingers.

He smirked, and you felt like you could kill someone to earn that approving glint in his eyes as he gazed at you. No praise came, but the hand on your neck drifted down to fondle and tweak your breasts, giving you jolts of pleasure as you sucked on two of his fingers.

Unceremoniously he yanked his fingers out of your mouth, wiping the wet of your saliva on your breasts in a way that should have felt humiliating-but instead sent fire through your veins. 

“You’ll be good for me, won’t you?” he said it like a statement though it should have been a question, and you found yourself nodding desperately as he went to pull his pants off, revealing a hard cock that was very much proportionate to his seven foot height. He sat on the edge of the bed and raised an eyebrow at you.

“On your knees,” he demanded, and you rushed to comply, sliding off the bed and to your knees in front of him, eager to get his dick in your mouth. Long fingers twined themselves into your hair, getting it out of your way as you leaned into lick at his dick, one hand grabbing the base to keep it steady. You started with long licks along the bottom and sides, ecstatic when Lucci let out a brief moan at the first feeling of your tongue on his length. “There we go, little bird,” never did you think being called that would do it for you, but something about the ever composed, ever stoic Rob Lucci calling you a pet name in such a breathy tone was so insanely hot that you didn’t even question it.

You mouthed around his tip, teasing putting it in your mouth without actually wrapping your lips wholly around it, and were almost startled when an actual growl came out of Lucci’s mouth. His grip in your hair tightened to almost painful, keeping your head still.

“It’s cute, thinking you can get away with teasing me like that,” he muttered, staring down at you with a contemplative look that almost had you worried before his hand in your hair was pushing on the back of your head, forcing you to take him in your mouth. He sighed blissfully once your lips enveloped his tip, pushing further, and you hummed, admiring his profile as his head tipped back the slightest bit in pleasure from your mouth. You breathed deeply through your nose, allowing him to keep pushing you down his length until-

You sputtered lightly, his dick tapping the back of your throat, and Lucci only paused briefly to allow you to collect yourself before he was forcing your head all the way down, your nose meeting his pelvis as you sputtered again. He groaned deeply, the loudest noise you had heard from his all night.

“That’s it, little bird, take it like that,” he groaned, hand keeping you there for a moment before he completely released you, allowing you to yank your head back and take in a few deep breaths. He laughed meanly as you collected yourself, and you should have been humiliated, but the slight flush on his cheeks was addictive, and you were determined to see more. After a few deep breaths, you took his length back into your mouth, sinking quickly down almost to his base on your own. He let out a choked groan of surprise, probably not expecting you to be so eager to please, and you started to work a slow rhythm up and down his dick. “So good,” he groaned, and you hummed at the praise. 

He let you suck his cock for a few minutes, hand occasionally yanking at your hair and controlling the pace, all the while letting out occasional groans to let you know you were doing a good job. His tank top came off at some point during it, and you were frothing at the mouth to be face-to-face with his delicious torso, abs sculpted to perfection and hip bones you wanted to feel as you rode him-but you were getting ahead of yourself.

He yanked you off of him and had you get back up on the bed, helping you strip as he got you where he wanted you, your wings spread out behind you on the bed as you laid back amongst the pillows. He shoved your thighs up as high as they could go roughly, barking at you to hold them for him before sliding down your body until his face was right in front of your heat.

He let you squirm for an uncomfortable moment as he just laid and stared at your cunt, seemingly mesmerized, before he was diving in tongue first. It speared into you, his nose crashing into your clit as you let out a surprised moan. Rob Lucci was controlled, precise, and methodical in everything he did, but the man ate pussy like it was a meal that might be taken away from him at any second. He facial hair burned in the most delicious way against you as he relentlessly flicked his tongue into your hole, not even seeming to care about your pleasure from the experience and instead just wanting to taste you. He groaned in pleasure and you could feel your juices starting to pool under you from his relentless treatment.

“Please,” you muttered as the sensation got to be too much. “Please Lucci, please wanna cum, wanna cum so bad,” you whined, and he seemed to redouble his efforts, a hand coming up to shove two fingers into you as his mouth raised to suck on your clit. You let out a little shriek as the penetration finally shoved you over the edge, and Lucci lapped up your release greedily.

“Mine,” he muttered. “All mine, little bird,” you nodded, delirious with pleasure.

“All yours, all yours,” he was already making his way up your body, leaving wet kisses up your sternum and along your breasts until you were face to face. You admired the way your juices clung to his facial hair, the crazed look in his eyes that seemed that of an obsessed madman, the way his long hair framed his face in a way that made the oh-so put together Rob Lucci look disheveled and-dare you say it-absolutely debauched.

“Let me fuck you, little bird, let me ruin you,” he demanded, because Rob Lucci doesn’t beg, and you nodded desperately, feeling his tip knocking into your entrance.

“Yes please, please Lucci fuck me please,” you begged, and he pushed in, both of you gasping as he finally did.

“All that,” he grunted, bullying his dick a little further into you as you let out a high pitched moan. “And you’re still so tight!” one hand went to your clit while the other went to your neck, and you grinned around a moan.

“S cuz you’re so big,” you whined, shifting your hips a bit to get a better angle, squealing as it made him slide further in. He was grinning at you as he continued to bully his way into your pussy in short thrusts, fingers on your clit circling around and around.

“You’re so good for me, little bird,” he groaned, feeling his cock getting closer and closer to being all the way in with every thrust.

You let out a long, loud moan as his hips finally connected with yours, feeling his tip hit somewhere delicious inside you. Lucci seemed to be holding himself back, muscles tensing, and you whined at the lack of movement, legs wrapping around his hips firmly.

“Lucci, fuck me, please!” you whined, and this seemed to snap him out of whatever hesitance he had, because his hips started to snap back and forth, hammering into you with a force that would definitely leave your hips bruised tomorrow.

“Fuck! So perfect, little bird!” he grit out, hands flying to rest under your thighs, pushing your legs up for a better angle. You screamed as he did, his dick going deeper-almost too deep, tip brushing against your cervix with every thrust in a way that made you want to keep him in you forever. He leaned in, mouth coming to lick and bite at your chest, and your eyes rolled back at the force with which he would latch on, as if he was little more than a beast trying not to tear the very skin from your bones.

His dick was still hitting that perfect spot inside you, and you could feel your crest coming, fast and uncontrollable.

“Lucci, I-I’m,” you started to stutter out, but he didn’t let you finish, capturing your mouth in a kiss and bringing one hand back to your throat.

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me?” he asked, eyes flashing as he grinned down at you, and you nodded whimpering as he made sure to keep the pace, bullying into that spot that was making you see stars. “Go on little bird, cum on my cock, cum for me,” he urged, and the dam released. Warmth flowed through your body as you peak crashed over you, and you felt Lucci’s hips stutter as you squeezed him.

“Oh fuck you feel so good-” he choked out, pounding away at you even harder and faster than before, making you scream. “So close my little bird, just wanna feel it one more time,” he demanded, snaking the hand on your neck down to roughly squeeze at your breasts, meanly pinching a nipple. You squealed, the sudden intensity bringing another orgasm on so quickly you didn’t know what was happening until you were in it, and you were screaming and writhing on Lucci’s cock as he laughed meanly above you, almost in awe of how well you were taking his dick. As your pussy squeezed in the aftermath of back to back orgasms, he shoved his dick as deep as he could, filling you with his seed and dipping his head down to bite into your flesh once more. You shivered in delight as you felt him fill you.

“Thank you, Lucci,” you moaned, eyes already drooping after the exertion of the night. He chuckled, placing a small peck to your forehead before pulling out, prompting a groan from both of you. You dozed as he shuffled about, retrieving a washcloth and finding your bathroom to wet it with warm water, cleaning you gently(so gentle, more gentle than both of you thought he was capable of), and discarding it before returning to slide under the covers with you. You happily snuggled into his chest as he wrapped an arm around you.

He could afford some pleasure while he was undercover here, he decided. He deserved something nice, if he couldn’t kill whoever he wanted while he was here, after all.

[alexlwrites]

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Alpha! Hyung line x Omega! Reader

✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: "And through some happenstance, casual and cruel, shaped by the hands of the Moon goddesses, you ended up face to face with what They considered your fated mates.

Of course, they didn’t know that - how could they recognize their goddess-given match if you had no scent? As long as you didn’t reach maturity, only you would feel this pull, this constant urge pooling at your lower abdomen when their scents filled your nose and sent your eyes rolling back.

You knew your place and it was not amongst royalty."

OR  

The one where you find your fated alphas, but they can't find you.

✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔:  Romance, Humor, Fluff, Angst, ABO, Soulmate AUs.

✿ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: This is a 18+ work! Minors, please do not interact. Also, there will be mentions of violence and abuse.

(Fanfic masterlist)

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨 - 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬

(<<< part one)

Namjoon couldn’t sleep. He twisted and turned, tangled up in his sheets, his once comfortable bed feeling too large now.

Y/N. That name echoed and ricocheted around his brain like a prayer or a curse. Something had shifted when you locked your scared eyes on him and he couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it pulled him out of his bedroom and into yours, onto your bed, on top of you…

He shook his head, willing the intrusive thought away. He felt out of control, skin itching and too tight. Could it all be caused by his body reacting to the presence of an unmated omega? Could he blame his current state of distress on the trembling girl hiding under the covers of a hospital bed? 

He should keep his distance, allowing Hoseok to follow through with his security protocols without intervening. That was the wise, responsible thing to do.

Then why did the thought of staying away made his skin crawl? Why did the idea of letting Hoseok, another alpha, alone with you brought violence to the front of his mind, urging him to punch a wall and fight his way to you?

Morning came and rest still escaped him, eyes bloodshot as he started to ready himself to his many obligations, going through the motions of his day as his thoughts wandered towards where you slept, his inner wolf clawing at the inside of his chest, howling for something he could not name.

Namjoon curled his fist on the way to his office, holding back the urge to resent you for crumbling his self control and starting a riot within him. Maybe that was why omegas were rare, he mused: they held too much power.

He sighed, already exhausted even barely at the break of dawn - he wished Yoongi were there. The level-headed alpha would surely know the best course of action and nudge him towards the right direction. Alas, his friend had been sent away on some diplomatic  mission or another and wouldn’t be back until the later end of a fortnight or so. He supposed he still had Hoseok and Jin, but Jin…

Jin was sat on a corner chair when he arrived at his office. nursing a cup of tea in one hand while picking at his nails with the other, mindlessly staring into nothing. Namjoon knew Jin would have no interest in the frightened omega as he had no interest in anything at all - not since Nira.

“Morning” Namjoon greeted him carefully, as they all had in the past couple of months “Have you seen Hoseok?”

Jin blinked, as if waking up from a trance, moving his dark hair from his face and saying “He’s with the omega.”

Namjoon nodded, holding back the unreasonable beast roaring inside him once more at the idea. “What do you think we should do?” he asked his advisor, not really expecting a helpful answer.

The other man curled his lips in distaste “Send her away, for all I care.”

Namjoon nodded again, having seen that reply coming. Jin’s hatred for omegas had only risen in Nira’s absence and no soft looking lips or big scared eyes would change that so swiftly. 

If he could not count on Jin, Hoseok would be then.

---

When Hoseok arrived in the hospital wing, you were already awake, picking at the buttered bread the maids brought you, pulling the smallest of pieces and munching on them. 

Made to provide and protect, alphas in general did not react well to an unfed omega, the sight unsettling and downright wrong. Even though it was not his place, Hoseok could not help but to say with the smallest of barks “You should eat more”.

The sound of his voice caused you to jump slightly, voice strained as you said bowing slightly from your bed “Sir Hoseok, I did not expect to see you again so soon.”

He frowned. “I sent a message beforehand informing you I would be coming” he pointed at a piece of paper on top of your breakfast tray “Is that not it?”

“Oh” you picked the note and examined the beautiful cursive writing in it before admitting casually “I can’t read”.

Hoseok blinked. Once. Twice.

“What do you mean, you can’t read?” 

You tilted your head sideways, owlish and confused and Hoseok had to pinch his own leg to resist the urge to coo at your expression. 

“Why would I know how to read? I’m an omega.”

And just like that, whatever fluttering feeling Hoseok had evaporated, replaced by dread and disbelief “You… What?”

“I’m an omega” you repeated, a tinge of edgeness and sass slipping into your voice “Why would I know how to read? Why would someone waste their time teaching me?” 

Hoseok was speechless, brows furrowed as a new emotion burned its way through him. He took a deep breath to settle himself, his inner alpha fighting against him to snarl and protect you from some invisible danger. 

“Wh-who” he coughed, trying to hide the growl that threatened to sneak into his speech “Who told you that?” 

“Father” you promptly answered.

Father. Your father had told you that educating omegas was a waste of time. Hoseok struggled to process the information, hatred adding to ever growing turmoil in him building up to an inferno. 

He took another deep breath. Was this the effect of an omega? If so, he could understand why alphas bent themselves backwards to their wills, built and laid waste to fortresses and cities for them. He would too, if his defensiveness and sudden sense of protection was indicative of anything.

5 minutes in a closed space with a (scentless, mind you!) omega and he was losing his mind. 

“We’ll come back to that later.” he said at last, unable to deal with your explanation when he had other pressing matters “His Majesty said he found you in the back gardens. How did you end up there?” 

You gulped, burrowing further under the blanket, eyes glazed with fear. “I ran” you answered, body tense as if you were preparing to run once more. 

“You… Ran?” you had answered his questions but somehow every reply just confused him even more. The nearest road leading to the back of the castle would be a day away by foot. If you were running, what were you running from?

He didn’t have to verbalize his wonderings, as you clarified yourself, voice progressively shakier “Father… Father was going to sell me. Fifteen million to a lord from the next town over. But…” Your eyes filled with tears “But I don’t want to get married. Please, sir, don’t make me go back!”

Hoseok’s hands were shaking. He didn’t know when it started nor how to stop and this out of control  feeling left him breathless in his anger. He could tell you were scared of him but didn’t know how to reel back.

He needed to remove himself from the situation.

Without another word, he turned around and stormed out of the room, door slamming behind his back as he left you alone in stupefied silence. 

Would he send you back, you wondered from your bed, feeling the walls closing in on you. Would he force you back to your father’s claws, dooming you to the life of a sold omega? 

You stood up, weak but resolute. You couldn’t let that happen. You had come too far to be sent back, freedom once more stolen from your hands by some alpha. You had run away once and surely you could do it again.

You waited with baited breath for Hoseok’s thundering steps to disappear in the distance before opening the slightest bit of the door, peering at the hall. Finding it empty, you sneaked outside, silent and feather light, holding still for a second before bolting.

You followed the brick wall to what you assumed was the east wing, cutting through winding halls and empty stairways. You could do this, you told yourself, listening around for another presence, you could find your way to the outside again…

A choked sound escaped you as your body slammed into something hard, hitting the floor with a soft and pained thud. You barely had time to process the burning feeling in your tailbone before the smell of syrup and every sweet thing invaded your senses. 

Your mate. Another one.

You inhaled shakily as you looked up and up, your mate tall with larger-than-life shoulders and handsome features that were twisted with the deepest of frowns. 

Already your mate hated you and somehow that knowledge twisted a deeper knife into your heart. You didn’t know if you could handle anymore disappointments. 

“You must be the omega” he sneered.

You remained silent and stiff while still on the ground. Your scent was enough of an answer.

Your mate made no move to help you, nor did he introduce himself. Instead, he stared down at you for a moment longer before saying in a cold, flat tone “If it were up to me, we would’ve already sent you back to wherever you came from” you heart ceased beating, stilling in fear for a few seconds “But, for some reason, His Majesty wants you here. So you’ll go back to your quarters and I’ll pretend I didn’t witness this pathetic attempt of escaping.

You nodded, standing up and bowing your head in taught submission.

He spared you one more hateful glance before turning away and walking down the hall. “Stay in your room” he called without looking back “and stay out of my way.”

---

Dinner was a tense affair. Despite his many meetings and obligations, Namjoon  usually held the right to dine amongst his friends instead of attending to some boring lord or another and his meals were often light events filled with stories and laughter.

That evening however, a cloud of unsettled silence hung above the room while the three men poked around their plates, quietly daring the other to speak first.

At last, Namjoon spoke, eyes fixated on the cutlery and fine china “How is she?”

Hoseok clenched his fist under the table “Scared” he answered “Apparently, her father…” he closed his eyes, trying to fight the image of you that seemed to be stuck to the back of his eyelids “Her father was trying to sell her. So she ran.”

Although not unheard of, the practice of selling omegas was very much still a taboo topic, considered a despicable thing by most. And even so, that particular market, which Namjoon had fought against many times in his ruling, mostly consisted of kidnapped omegas. The idea that her own father could be behind such a disgusting act had even Jin shifting in his seat, feeling uncomfortable and even the tiniest bit guilty.

For a moment, no one said a thing. The air sizzled with concealed aggression. “Do we know who her father is?” Namjoon asked, craving the sight of this unknown man behind the bars of his dungeons. 

Hoseok winced “I didn’t ask” he admitted shamefully “When she told me, I lost control of my alpha and had to leave.” he looked down at his white knuckled fists, confused and upset “This never used to happen and now I’m…”

“I understand” the king intervened, the same conflicted expression on his face “I feel the same. I don’t know, something about her…”

“You are both getting too attached to this girl” Jin interrupted harshly, eyes at last filled with something other than vague disinterest - Jin was concerned “And you shouldn’t.”

“You’re not suggesting we send her back, are you?”

“Of course not” he snapped. “She can stay until you two figure out what to do. I’m just reminding you that that girl’s mate is out there somewhere and bound to show up at some point, so it would do well for the both of you to keep that in  mind before letting your out of control alphas cloud your judgement. That omega is not yours. Trust me on this.”

---

Hoseok did not come back to visit you again, nor did the king, although you expected that. In fact, none of them showed up in the next couple of days, not even when you were moved from the hospital wing to a guest room. 

The room was bright with large stained glass windows that opened to the back gardens of the castle. It also came with a lady in waiting - a tall beta girl named Sophie, You did not pose much of a hassle for her as you didn’t eat much, still focused on maintaining a strict diet to delay your own coming of age, nor did you leave the room.

Still, Sophie did make for great company. You didn’t have any sisters and the maids back home were too scared to talk to you and incur your father’s wrath, so the young woman’s presence and spirited curiosity were a breath of fresh air.

She stayed in your room for most of the day, fussing over pillows or your hair, filling your minutes with gossip from the maid’s quarters and questions about your life as an omega. Although most often than not the questions were invasive and a little crass, the carefree feeling of it all entertained you endlessly.

“So,” she started one morning while combing your hair “Are there any differences to your body as an omega?” 

Confused, you asked “What do you mean?” 

“I mean, I’ve never met an omega” she kept going with braiding your hair carefully, ignoring your rising blush “Is there anything different in your lady parts? Like, when you’re with an alpha…”

“I’ve never!” you interrupted before she could embarrass you any further “I’ve never been with an alpha or anyone really!”

There was an awkward cough from behind you. Both you and Sophie turned in a fright to find the king himself shuffling his feet uncomfortably by your door. 

“I’m sooo fired” Sophie muttered quietly.

“Excuse me ladies” he said in a stifled manner “Could I have a moment of Y/N’s time?” 

Sophie put down the brush, face pale as she left the room with a squeaky “sorry!”.

You wished at that moment that you could leave too, but Namjoon closed the door behind her and leaned against it, keeping his distance while you bowed your head to try and hide your rising shame.

“I’m sorry for interrupting your, uhm, conversation” he said, the tips of his ears burning to an unusual red. 

“It’s alright, Your Majesty, please don’t apologize.”

He coughed again, unable to shake his unease. “How have you been faring?”

You blinked, surprised by his question “Me?” you stupidly asked “I’ve been fine.”

Truly, you had not been fine. You had been driving yourself insane, locked behind the walls of your bedroom, caged again but in a different, fancier prison, taunted by the knowledge that your mates, who you had dreamt about every night back in your old home, were only a few feet away and still untouchable. You allowed yourself to cry in the dead of night, haunted by the fact that your child-like fantasies of a true love were now buried under the weight of the alphas you could never have and the one that hated you for no apparent reason.

You were not fine. You were falling apart. But when weren’t you? 

The king must’ve sensed your lie, clear from your twitching eyelids and fragile frame, but chose not to comment on it. Instead he approached you slowly, sitting on a velvet couch a couple feet away from you, his scent filling your senses and leaving you light headed as the omega inside you whined and cried for you to climb up on his lap and burrow your face in his neck.

Instead of doing all of that, you tried your best to breathe through your mouth as he said “I apologize for not coming to you earlier.”

“No need to apologize, Your Majesty. You must be very busy. Ademas can’t be a very easy place to rule.” 

He snorted “I’d say. Have you been to the capital?” 

“Oh, no, I wasn’t allowed outside my father's estate. But I’ve seen the illustrations on the books and it looks like quite the bustling place! I’ve always dreamed of…” you stopped yourself, hiding your enthusiasm and bowing again. The king would have no interest in listening to your musings about the city you only ever hoped to meet “No, I’ve never seen Adamas.”

“A pity” he said, eyes looking for yours “It’s a very lovely place with endless options of entertainment for a young girl such as yourself. How old are you again, Y/N?”

“22, Your Majesty. Almost 23.” 

“And your… Scent?”

You paled at the question “Oh, I-I suppose it just… Never happened for me. Something must be wrong with my omega.”

“Perhaps we could send a doctor-”

“No! I mean -” you coughed, calming yourself as the king stared inquisitively at your outburst “That’s not necessary, but thank you”.

If he thought your denial was strange, he did not mention it. Instead, he continued “Hoseok told me about your situation” you froze, scared of the next few words that would dictate your future “and I’m sorry you ever had to go through that.”

Your heart stopped beating for a second. “Your Majesty?”

“No Omegas should be viewed as merchandise, mistreated and denied simple pleasures such as reading.” he said, a fiery certainty behind his eyes that left you weak in the knees “I know you must’ve been taught otherwise, but know that under my ruling omegas are to be respected and protected like any others.” 

Respected. Protected. 

You had never thought you’d hear those words being applied to you. And to hear it from your mate, your heartbreakingly beautiful mate that was worlds beyond your reach, sent a wave of emotion through your body, bringing tears to your eyes at his kindness. 

“Oh, no, please don’t cry, Miss Y/N” Namjoon said in a panicked voice “I’m not the best at dealing with crying ladies. Much less omegas.” 

You laughed shakily at his remark, tears still streaming down your face “I’m sorry, Your Majesty.”

“Ah, it’s okay. One cannot be king for long without seeing some amount of tears but I do try to not make a habit of making girls cry.”

“You must be a great king then.” 

Maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you, but for a moment you could’ve sworn you saw a splash of red on the king’s face. 

“Anyway” he coughed, “you are welcome to stay in the castle while we figure out the best course of action and as soon as you feel ready I urge you to give your testimony against your father’s actions to Hoseok so he could be handled appropriately.”

The thought of bringing your father to justice was a foreign concept to you, as up until a few days ago you didn’t quite understand that his views on omegas were terrible, much less illegal. Up until your conversations with Sophie, you believed all omegas had gone through what you had - the sneering, the threats and all the mistreatment. 

“I understand, Your Majesty. I cannot thank you enough for your kindness. But would you allow me one selfish request?”

“Yes?”

“Please, do not fire poor Sophie” you asked, earning yourself a laugh from the king. “She has made for such great company in this room. Please do not punish her for her curiosity.”

Namjoon stood up, still smiling at your request “Very well. No punishment shall be handed. I’m sure you must get lonely here. I’ll ask Sophie to give you a tour of the castle tomorrow so you can get acquainted with the grounds. But for now, I must go.”

“Thank you again, Your Majesty.”

“Please, call me Namjoon.”

You smiled shyly and nodded “Thank you, Namjoon.”

---

Thank you, Namjoon.

Thank you, Namjoon.

Namjoon.

Namjoon.

Nam… Joon…

Would he ever be able to get the sound of his name coming from your lips out his mind? Namjoon groaned, once again unable to find rest all because of you. He had believed that if he kept his distance for a couple of days, maybe he would be free from all the torment your first appearance had caused him and be able to face you and remain level headed.

Needless to say, he had been proven wrong. 

And your little confession surely had not helped. I’ve never been with an alpha or anyone really! Goddesses, why must you say something like that? Why did his alpha purr at the thought of no one ever touching you, for once pleased and satisfied? 

If Jin knew of his thoughts, his friend would give him an earful. Hel, even his own mother would be sure to smack him in the back of his head if she ever caught wind of his less than appropriate thoughts. 

Alas, he could not stop nor understand them and for his own peace of mind he decided to just chalk them up as basic Alpha/Omega attraction. It’s just biology, he told himself whilst lying on his bed that evening. It’s just a passing interest that would blow away in a few days. Your alpha was probably out there looking for you and sooner or later you’d leave his life and estate.

That did not help sooth his purring alpha. Mine, the stupid beast roared inside his chest, I won’t let anyone take my omega away.

Not your omega, he reminded himself, even though the words left a bitter taste behind them. 

He would just have to distance himself again. Just until the memory of his name leaving your lips stopped sending shivers down his spine like a siren’s song. A few days without contact would do him good. He should just leave you alone, after all.

Still, the next morning when you woke up there was a pile of illustrated books on Adamas waiting for you outside the door.

°•. ✿ .•°

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[pacifymebby]

Modern! Peaky blinders with a reader who really likes stuffed animals like they make them bring them to Build-A-Bear to get new ones. like how would they act if the reader wants to make them put a voice recording in the bear that says I love you in their voice. ☺️

Obsessed with this cause it's adorable!!!!! It has been yearsssss since I was in build a bear ngl so I don't know how accurate this will be!

Tommy

🌿 Thinks you're very sweet and that the fact you're still in touch with your inner child is a good thing. He's very precious about the idea of you keeping your softness and so he is more than happy to let you run riot in build a bear or any other toy store...

🌿 When you say you want to make him a build a bear he humours you with a small smile, pretending not to know what you mean. "I don't need a teddy bear angel, whenever I want a hug I find you..." Which of course makes you giggle as you protest. "No I mean I want to make you as a bear..."

🌿 Tommy's not sure how he feels about that, he's not sure the aesthetics of love, peace and hugs that they have at build a bear are really going to be able to capture him however... You're looking up at him with your big, undeniable eyes and he's not one for saying "No" to his girl over trivial things like this....

🌿 And anyway it's worth saying yes and letting you give it your best shot just for the way you squeal and throw your arms around him, jumping up so that he has to catch you whilst you thank him over and over covering his face in kisses as you promise him his bear is going to be the best you've ever made....

🌿 "Well I don't doubt that for a second love, it seems you're the expert..." He's teasing you on purpose because he loves to see you frown, the cute way your brows crease as you try to work out whether he's being rude to you or not. You all hands on hips like "I am, actually."

🌿 Tommy's a little concerned about being seen in Build a Bear, mostly because it's the kind of cheap shot some daily mail pap will take and plaster all over their website beneath unfortunate headlines about him having gone soft or getting "stuffed." It's not going to get to him on a personal level but it could be bad for business if his rivals see it.

🌿 So he takes you out of town for it, drives you to some nowhere seaside town which has one on the high street, where no one will recognise him and you'll be able to do your bear building in peace. He's really banking on British high street shopping having died out completely and luckily for him the shop is empty but for you and him... Sure he could probably have taken you to a bigger store in London after hours, let you have free reign over the shop, but this is nicer... It feels normal and Tommy revels in any opportunity he gets to feel "normal" with you.

🌿 He's thinks it's all a little bit intense, he doesn't really go for "forced happiness" himself, but Tommy is very much driven by the want to keep you happy and so he takes a breath and holds his tongue as you step inside the store together and you squeeze his hand excitedly.

🌿 You take foreverrrrr to pick out what kind of bear you're going to have, holding different skins up next to Tommy who just has to stand there and take it whilst you compare which one you think is most "him" and then when you finally do choose you gasp and say "wait no, I want you to be surprised, you can't see!"

🌿 Which is inconvenient because it means he'll have to either follow you round blindfolded or miss the rest of your bear building... In the end you send him off to choose clothes for Tommy bear... "Tommy bear?" He raised his brow at you with a smirk but when you double down he just chuckles and says "fine, as you wish love..."

🌿 So he has to wander the clothes section peering quizzically at the little outfits and well as he suspected, none of the clothes on offer really scream "feared and revered organised crime leader..." So instead he has to lean into his creative side, tries to imagine who he would be if he wasn't a violent, murderous criminal. He pictures himself sitting on the back of a vardo, stopped by a babbling brook, peace and quiet, far away from any city...

🌿 When he hears your gleeful, sweet call from across the store asking him to come back he sighs, braces himself for whatever crazy little whim has taken you now...

🌿 "Close your eyes," you instruct him when he gets closer, he was making a song and dance of not looking at your bear anyway but you want to be absolutely certain he isn't peaking. "Need you to do something for me Tommy, pretty please with cherries on top..." He knows from the sweetness of your tone you're about to ask him something he's going to want to refuse... And he knows from the sweet way you've kissed him on the cheek and said it again "really pretty please..." That there's no way he's going to be able to say no. Because you sound so happy, the hint of a giggle in your mischievous voice and there's no way Tommy would ever dream of cutting your fun short...

🌿 So when you ask him to record himself saying "I love you y/n" he just chuckles, if anything he's relieved you're not asking something more difficult for him to give you. Making a little voice recording is easy... "That all eh sweetheart? Had me worried for a second... Thought you were gonna ask me to buy you the whole store..."

🌿 He's also morbidly aware that the bear will probably outlive him... So why shouldn't you have a little voice recording just in case something ever happens...

🌿 So with one hand over his eyes he makes the voice recording, completely serious as he says the words, "I love you y/n" completely unaware of the fact that you're filming him on your phone camera as you do. Now you know you'll get into trouble for that but you also can't resist. You never thought you'd get Tommy through the door let alone this...

🌿 You're ever so sweet to him when he's done, giving him the tightest hug, leaving him with a kiss before you inform him that he's going to have to leave again now or he'll ruin the surprise. So he sighs and teases you for being so bossy, tells you to mind your manners and gives you a little pat on the cheek before he turns away and tries to find something to occupy himself with.

🌿 he sets himself down on a child-size stool and rests with his chin in his hands, gazing up at the stuffing machine. He lets out a sigh and smirks at what a strange scene it must look like for an outsider looking in. A man wanted in some places for murder, perched on a primary coloured stool, gazing up at a cartoonish machine designed for filling teddy bears.

🌿 Honestly though he's weirdly mesmerised by the fluff machine, he could stare at it going round and round all day long... In fact that's where you find him when your bear is all boxed up and waiting to be paid for. Tommy just gazing at the fluff being spun slowly round and round, his wide eyes almost holding a childish kind of innocence.

🌿 You refuse to let him see Tommy bear until you both get home, delighting in coming up with all sort of stupid excuses why you can't just show him the bear... "He's shy Tommy... You're putting too much pressure on him, he's got big shoes to fill you know, it ain't easy being the bear representative for Thomas Shelby..."

🌿 And then when you finally do show him the bear you've built for him he's a little bewildered...

🌿 "Y/n love, why am I am otter..." "I don't know... Vibes, it was a vibes based decision and I decided you give me ottery vibes, or the otter was giving me you vibes... I don't know, isn't he cute though, personally I love him!"

🌿 And he supposes that actually your choice was really rather fitting since after all he'd been sitting in that shop imagining himself by a river in the middle of the woods, enjoying the peace and tranquility of nature... So perhaps an otter really did match his vibe. "Aye love, he's great, I think I quite like him myself... You're a very clever girl."

🌿 You have many many cuddly toys but Tommy has one rule, you're only allowed one of them in the bed. It's a fair enough rule really because if you kept all of them in your bed there'd be no room for you and Tommy... But it does leave you with the really rather tricky decision of whether or not you want to evict your current favourite cuddly toy from the bed in order for Tommy Bear to move in...

🌿 Tommy doesn't find out about that little video you took of him in the shop for awhile, only a little later when he catches you watching it by yourself. He hears you giggling and comes to see whats so funny, when he sees himself on your screen he inwardly cringes though he can't help but chuckle at your mischief. "Tut tut y/n, that wasn't very good of you was it?" He asks and though you can tell you're in trouble you can't keep your smirk off your lips, bursting into a premature giggling before you go to make a run for it...

🌿 Tommy isn't the sort to let you pretend you're faster or stronger than him so he's going to have you trapped in his arms in an instant, only agreeing to release you if you swear on Tommy Bears life that you'll never show anyone that video.

🌿 "But it's so cute!" You try to argue. "And so is Tommy Bear y/n you wouldn't want him to lose an ear now would you?"

Alfie

🐻 "don't see why you want to build the bear yourself ziskiet, there's plenty good bears already been built what about them eh?"

🐻 You're not sure Alfie really understands the concept of Build a Bear... Alfie's pretty honest about his confusion too.

🐻 "Now let me get this straight my little ziskeit... You go into this shop yeah? And you pick the teddy bear you wanna build, and then you stuff it yourself, and you put it's little sound effects in there yourself, and then you dress it yourself?" "You give them a heart too don't forget, that's important..." "A heart? Oh yeah I suppose that is pretty important ain't it ziskeit..." "And then when you're done you give it a name and you get a little birth certificate and..."

🐻 "And then you pay them? For the privelige of having done all the work yourself? That right yeah?" You huffing and sighing and glowering up at him because the glint of amusement in his eyes has just let you know that he's been deliberately "not getting it" on purpose just to tease you.

🐻 "Pleaseeeeeeeee" you say as sweetly as you can, blinking up at him with your most adorable doe eyes. Now of course Alfie was never going to say no to his little ziskeit... He just wanted to hear you beg like that, because he finds it absolutely adorable when you beg him for anything. But this... Begging him to take you teddy bear shopping, well it's just about the cutest thing you've ever done... So of course he says yes.

🐻 He cups your cheek in the palm of his hand and strokes his thumb over your skin, still teasing when he coos at you softly before telling you that you can have anything you want, even a trip to this so called bear building factory.

🐻 "Ziskeit I'm a very wealthy old man yeah, and it was actually my intention yeah that you, my dear, would never have to work a day in your life..."

🐻 Now Alfie is a theatrical, dramatic kind of man, and he has absolutely no qualms about shutting the store down so that you can have free reign over the place. He'll take you to the biggest one in London so that you'll have lots of choices and can truly make the most of your trip.

🐻 He hires the place out for the whole evening and tells you you can spend as much money as you want. If his girls dream in life really is to go to work for one evening in a bear factory, or whatever this place is, then he's going to make sure she gets to do it right...

🐻 He wasn't expecting you to want him by your side every step of the way though... When you get there you actually get a bit overwhelmed at the fact that you've got the whole store to yourself and you can choose whatever you want. All the staff are there purely to serve you and its actually a little bit intimidating... So you snatch Alfie's hand in yours, "you have to help me!"

🐻 He doesn't chastise you for being demanding however because he can tell you've suddenly gotten a bit shy, so instead he chuckles, kisses your head and plays along, "of course ziskeit, there's a lot of big decisions to make, can't expect you to make them all by yourself..."

🐻 But he wants you to choose your bear, since you were so excited to come in the first place, so he refuses to make any decisions for you... Just keeps you tucked under his arm and meanders through all your options with you until your shyness starts to fade.

🐻 "So you like the bunnies and you also like this little fella? What is he anyway, some kinda cat?" "That's a lamb Alfie..." "A lamb, well, yeah I reckon you could make quite a cute little lamb... Then again I reckon you could make a cute little bunny too... You know precious I did say didn't I, that you could spend as much money as you liked... Technically yeah, you don't actually have to choose between the two..."

🐻 But you do have to choose because you want to make one perfect teddy bear, one that will be extra extra special and remind you of this very lovely evening forever... And when you tell Alfie that his heart swells as he is reminded once again what an absolute angel he has found in you.

🐻 Eventually you settle on the bunny and you take it to the stuffing machine which Alfie is really fascinated by, "oh well now this is impressive ain't it Ziskeit, what do they call this then eh?" You delight in telling him all about it, losing your shyness and coming out of your shell completely as you try to show him what to do and get him to help you.

🐻 Alfie definitely puts on a show of being confused and clumsy so that you'll have to keep putting your hands on his hands to help him. "Yeah that's better you help me out darlin, you've got delicate fingers yeah, you're much better at this than me..."

🐻 When you go to pick the heart out to put it inside you pause and bite your lip, really carefully considering which one to pick even though they're all the same, so Alfie gets you to close your eyes and guides your hand to delve in nice and deep, "kismet y'see little one, fate..."

🐻 Then you make him give the heart a little kiss before you tuck it inside your bear. Now he knows he looks daft as anything and soft as hell doing that for you, but you held it up to his lips so sweetly, and it gave him the chance to kiss your fingertips too... So he plays along, if not just to see you blush when he lets his kiss linger on your finger tips and scatters them across the back of your hand too.

🐻 When you tell him what you want the voice recording to be he's stunned, coughs to hide his surprise and then shakes his head. He'll do it... Because he wouldn't dare break your heart with a no, not when you've finally started really enjoying yourself without being nervous at all... But first he clears the store. Sends the staff away because he wants to have a "private moment with my girl if you don't mind yeah... An anyone I catch eavesdropping yeah..." He doesn't really need to make a threat, they all know who he is, they wouldn't dream of disobeying him.

🐻 So when everyone else has gone, he pulls you in very close to him, his hand resting on your lower back, and then he asks you again what it is you'd like him to say... "I love you!" You grin up at him and he can't resist the opportunity to make the obvious joke, "I love you too my dear but what exactly is it you'd like me to put in this message specifically?"

🐻 By the time he actually makes the recording you're blushing furiously from all his terrible teasing and your pink cheeks look utterly adorable. And of course Alfie being Alfie he can't stick to such a simple script, he has to add some embellishments here and there. "I love you little ziskeit, all the way to the moon and sun and stars..."

🐻 If there's a time out on that recording it's probably going to cut him off mid sentence.

🐻 When it's time to stitch your bear up he stands over you at the table admiring the nimble way you move your delicate fingers. It reminds him of all the times you've wound up stitching him up after a meeting with a rival gang has turned sour. Softens him up a bit and makes him feel very grateful to have you for his own.

🐻 You spend a really really really long time looking at all the cute little outfits you could buy for your bunny, you keep hovering in front of fairy dresses and cute little t-shirts, your wide eyes blinking up at the different options, totally overwhelmed and spoilt for choice... And Alfie's there reminding you once again that you don't have to choose just one thing, you can buy as much as you like...

🐻 But in the end the only thing you choose is two pink ribbons for her little ears. Alfie is a bit puzzled by her apparent lack of clothing but you absolutely insist that she's perfect just the way she is and he knows better than to argue with you once you get the stubborn voice out.

Arthur

🍂 No one has ever looked more unnatural in a Build A Bear Workshop than Arthur Shelby... he looks totally out of place. With his frown etched deeply into his face and his low grumbling gruff old voice. The way he stands there looking at the place with this creeped out kind of uncertainty in his expression... he knows he shouldn't be there and he knows everyone else knows he shouldn't be there....

🍂 But then he looks at you and he sees just how happy to be there you are, and he knows he's going to have to go through with this... Because apart from anything else you look like exactly the sort of person who should be in this shop, in fact you look like build a bear was designed specifically for you.

🍂 Makes you laugh when you ask him what's wrong and he tries to pretend that everything's fine, "Arthur you look like you've stepped into a horror movie" you tease him but his answer just makes you laugh, how he blushes when he says it, "Well it's just... Everyone seems so happy and uh... Nah it's just that actually... Just feels weird..." He admits realising how daft he sounds as he says it, making you laugh more when he trails off and gives in.

🍂 You're determined that he's going to get involved and help you make your bear because you know that secretly he's going to end up enjoying it, you just need to prove that to him before he'll admit it.

🍂 And he does enjoy it... After he's moved past how unnerving he finds the boxes full of empty bear skins. You think it's funny how he doesn't really want to even go up to them to have a look, how he's trying to hide that he obviously finds them a bit creepy, because he doesn't want to reveal himself as being scared of a toy shop...

🍂 So you end up picking out which kind of bear he's going to make with you. He swears too much for a build a bear work shop and you have to keep reminding him to mind his language because although you've picked a relatively quiet time to come to the store there's still some little kids about.

🍂 Still, when he sees the fluffer machine he stops dead in his tracks and breaths out the phrase "what the fuck is that..."

🍂 I think you'd spend most of this trip with Arthur giggling at him and his dramatic reactions to everything. The way he genuinely seems disbelieving when you tell him it's a machine for helping you fill the bears. You can tell he's kind of intrigued and on the verge of begging you for a turn, the way he watches you filling your bear up slowly... He's watching you and the machine so carefully his eyes full of fascination but when you turn and offer him a go he's hesitant.

🍂 "I don't know love I wouldn't wanna ruin your bear like..." "Don't be silly Arthur, if you help me it'll be ten times better..." Now he has to try and hide the fact that he's gotten strangely emotional about you wanting him to make your bear with you... He covers it up by teasing you and grumbling about "well alright love anything for you eh... Don't say I didn't warn you though lass..."

🍂 But obviously Arthur does a wonderful job because the whole process is designed do that basically anyone can do it, "see easier than it looks isn't it..." You tease him. But he's too focused on what he's doing to be bothered by your teasing.

🍂 He actually finds the stuffing part pretty therapeutic. You can see him get quite absorbed in the process, trying his best to get it just right. He's really concentrating.

🍂 I think he'd be quietly quite into giving the little bear a heart, I'm thinking like Tin Man complex here.

🍂 When it comes to doing the stitches he gets a bit frustrated because it's more fiddly and he's not exactly the most nimble man...

🍂 Now, he definitely blushes when you ask him to do the voice recording... He sort of gets a stutter on him like he wasn't expecting you to ask him that, and also isn't sure why you want his gruff grumpy voice to come out of such a cute bear... Definitely says something along those lines to you...

🍂 "What do you want me to do that for love?" "Well I'm not gonna ask the bloody shop assistant to do it for me am i..."

🍂 He will do it, but he is going to be a little bit embarrassed about it. Not just because he's supposed to be a tough and scary gangster with a tough and scary reputation to uphold but also because it seems like a very soft and very gooey romantic thing to do and not only does he not view himself as someone capable of being soft and romantic (even though he wishes he could be that way) (and even though you do see the ways in which he can be that way sometimes) but he also knows for a fact that other people don't see him as being capable of those things...

🍂 So he feels ridiculous, like everyone's secretly thinking "what the fucks he doing making a fool of himself, who's he trying to kid we all know he's a monster..."

🍂 That's the real reason he double checks to make sure no one is around that might be listening in, he's so paranoid that other people in the shop are going to laugh at him for even trying to be soft and romantic with you.

🍂 Anyway he does it and he goes bright red like a tomato and you think he looks so so so adorable, and when you say this to him he goes even more red and you can't help but kiss him on the cheek and thank him a million times.

🍂 You want to call the bear Arthur and he's like "but that's my name" and your only argument is "well surely you don't want another man to be telling me he loves me..." Which he can't argue with, even though he knows it's a ridiculous argument that doesn't make any sense.

🍂 Will tell you he's never setting foot in that shop ever again... Will obviously immediately capitulate the next time you ask.

John

🌼 Laughs when you ask him to come with you... He thinks you're joking at first and then when he realises you're being serious he chuckles almost nervously and asks "What really? What do you want me to come with you for, you know you can just take my credit card whenever you want flower..."

🌼 "Well yeah, and I would but... I have an important job for you..." "Oh aye?" He grins. He agrees to come, he loves spending time with you and getting to spoil you, and honestly he thinks this will be a right laugh.

🌼 He will not take it seriously at all, even when you tell him how very serious it is... In fact the more stroppy you get with him about how serious it is, the more funny he's finding it... he does want you to have a good time though so he's not too much of a windup merchant with you.

🌼 It's just that he can't help but giggle when you step inside the shop and it's full of kids and you're there taking it more seriously than the 7 year old whose been dreaming of a build a bear for years.

🌼 When you're struggling to choose which bear you want he keeps reminding you that it's going on his credit card anyway and you don't even have to choose, you can have the whole store if you want... "John!” you whining to him, "be serious!" "Flower I don't joke about Build a Bear, this stuff is serious..." "John! Stop taking the piss out of me..." "Eh don't swear flower, there's kids around!" He really loves hearing you whine his name so this could repeat and repeat for hours...

🌼 Every time you do come close to making a choice he spots a different type of bear that you haven't noticed yet and his "what about this one flower?" Makes you have to start reconsidering your choice all over again.

🌼 He doesn't have the cocentration/patience to do any of the little bear building steps, he's too easily distracted pointing out different things, asking what "this thing" does and pointing at some random part of the shop. "What's that for? Eh give us a go..."

🌼 You have to put the heart in and he's giggling about it and you're like "John come on..." Whining at him to be real for a second, which he thinks is extremely cute but that makes him chuckle more. You kiss the heart before putting it in which he thinks is insane but also extremely cute and of course he teases you for it. "Aw flower ain't you a little sweetheart..." Pinching your cheek and fluffing your hair...

🌼 Definitely not afraid to do the voice recording, isn't sure why you want him to do it but will do it simply because you've asked him to.

🌼"So this is the important job is it flower?" He chuckles when you tell him what you need him to do. "Whats the matter girl I not tell you enough? Feeling neglected or somet? You gonna use him to make me jealous?" He is only teasing of course, just trying to make you blush in the middle of the shop to distract from the fact that he's about to make a voice recording of himself being a soppy git.

🌼 But you said it was an important job so he puts his whole chest into his performance. Makes a show of preparing himself for the moment, really playing up his deep breath, closing his eyes and theatrically crossing his hand slowly down his face to prepare for his line... anything to make you giggle.

🌼 Then he holds eye contact the whole time he's doing the voice recording, deadly serious, actually gives you butterflies for a second there... but the second the recording is off he cracks a laugh and starts pissing himself, making you giggle too because his laughter is very contagious and you do also feel a little silly after watching his oscar winning performance.

🌼 Is absolutely going to be a nightmare when it comes to dressing your bear... Will be making the most ridiculous suggestions, just picking up the funniest items he can find or suggesting the wildest fashion moments for your bear... "What about this, for if he ever fancies attending the met gala... Or this for when he's feelin like Sid vicious... Or what about this for when he's uh... Feeling like a princess?"

🌼 Your head will be spinning with all the suggestions he's making and actually you won't be able to pick just one set of clothes, your bear is going to be coming home with a whole wardrobe.

🌼 He's definitely picking the bear up and like holding it up to his face, putting on a squeaky voice and shaking the bear to make him talk to you... "please y/n I've always wanted to be a pro footballer... And a fire fighter... And a sugar plum fairy and a..."

🌼 You will probably need to lie down in a dark room with some peace and quiet after this experience, you'll definitely question whether you ask him to come too next time... He actually brings up next time, "next time you should go in blindfolded and let me make all the choices... It'll all be a surprise..."

🌼 This is the bear I think you'd end up picking with John, cute and eclectic, she ain't no average bear she's literally an elephant... You let him pick the shoes.

Bonnie

🍀Will have a moment where he questions whether its really a good idea for him to risk being photographed in build a bear workshop... he's a semi famous boxer with a cute little face so the paps do try to follow him sometimes, especially when he's out with you because then there's the added gossip of him having a girlfriend... still, he figures that as long as he stays by your side the whole time so that they can't possibly get a shot of him where it looks like he's there alone... then it will surely be fine.

🍀He definitely feels a little silly but goes along with it to make you happy because you're his girl and he's smitten with you... It's not like the bears for him... Then again I do feel like out of all the guys bonnie is the most likely to engage with his softer side, or his inner child... He's not going to feel imasculated by a teddy bear.

🍀 Especially not when the bear in question is a frog!! He definitely sees the frog in the window and gets genuinely boyishly excited. "You didn't tell me there were frogs y/n! Oh my god look at him! He's class, that's class!"

🍀 He doesn't tell you you have to get the frog, but he also won't stop gazing at it lovingly and so you know you have got to get the frog... And he'll be so happy that you're getting the frog.

🍀 Will make little jokes about his bosses to you, pointing at one bear and saying "here, this one looks like Tommy..." Both of you laughing quietly with eachother, coming up with stupid scenarios about which bear Tommy or Arthur would pick and how they'd dress it.

🍀Definitely secretly a bit of a nerd and kind of loves the fact they do Pokémon build a bear... "Y/N can we get this?" He asks stood next to a giant charizard...

🍀When you ask him to help you he doesn't complain, he rolls his eyes at you and tells you you don't really need his help, but he kisses your cheek and helps you anyway. He's pretty good at the stuffing and stitching but he pretends its much harder than it looks and jokes that you're making him do unpaid labour.

🍀 Definitely blushes a bit when you tell him what you want the voice recording to be. Tries to tease you to play down the fact that it's made him self conscious, "I don't know little dove, I don't speak frog y'see so it won't be Attenborough Documentary standard..."

🍀Is too awkward to ask the shop assistant to leave you be for a bit so he ends up having to do the recording in front of them!! Which he is shy about because what do you mean this random stranger is watching him do this...

🍀 A bit like John when it comes to picking the clothes out, very kid in a candy store just flitting from thought to thought at a million miles an hour, a bit over stimulated... Thinks the shoes are class but also... "He's a frog what does he need shoes for, won't that hinder the jumping?" "To protect his feet from all the shit you leave lying around Bon..."

🍀He also picks the frog up and makes him speak, makes him say really stupid stuff to you about how he's a free frog and he doesn't want to be confined by human standards of decency, "Let me be a frog y/n, let me be free" but in the end you settle on a cute little tshirt.

🍀When you get the frog home Bonnie has more fun with him than you do... He'll leave these frogs around the house set up in different poses doing different activities for you to find each day. Sometimes mirroring whatever he knows you've got to do that day. If you've got a long day of studying or working on your laptop you find your frog sitting using the laptop... usually watching David Attenborough documentaries or weird videos about frogs. You inadvertently learn so much about frogs...

🍀 if Bonnie ever gets you a gift he usually sets it up so it looks like the frog is giving you the gifts... Sometimes this is very cute and sometimes it looks incredibly funny... Like sometimes Frog is sitting on the table with a little box from your local bakery, and then sometimes Frog looks like he's about to down a bottle of red wine indie sleaze style... Depends what kind of week you're having.

🍀You start doing this too, leaving little gifts for bonnie with Frog, sometimes you leave eachother little messages and Frog becomes like this daft little way for you to communicate.

🍀Then one day you find Frog waiting for you with a little jewellery box and a note attached that just reads, "will you marry me?"

🍀Now obviously your heart soars and you can't stop smiling, but you can't put bonnie out of his misery straight away...

🍀"So am I marrying you or the frog?"

Isaiah

🐁If he didn't already know you better he'd be surprised at you asking him this... you don't come across as the kind of girl who should want to go on a Build a Bear date... but he does know you so really hes been bracing himself for the day you ask him this...

🐁 He isn't going to go quietly and he's definitely going to grumble about it a bit. "You do know who you're man is don't you love?" He's going to roll his eyes and be so sulky... "What're you willing to do to make it up to me?" But he's only really teasing, putting on a show of being extra grumpy to preserve his "dangerous gangster" persona.

🐁He knew before you asked him that he'd go to the "hellhole" with you one day.

🐁"Didn't realise you were such a softy babe..." And it's a fair point he's making because you do not give off the vibe that you'd be crazy for cuddly toys... You're a woman who matches Isaiah's sulky and arrogant nature, you give major Scorpio/Capricorn vibes, dark makeup, sharp eyeliner, always dressed to seduce and kill... He thinks that as a couple you're going to look very out of place...

🐁But then he's surprised because you really don't look out of place... You light up the second you're in there, sure you seem to have that effortlessly cool poker face on you as you peruse the rails of bear skins, and you definitely don't meet the high as a kite happy the shop assistants bring to the room... but you do soften up in there, especially once you've chosen your bear...

🐁You look so quietly pleased with yourself when you hold it up to show him which one you're getting and he grins... He's surprised actually, he thought you might go for the little mouse... Afterall, you're still his Little Mouse even if you are a femme fatal...

🐁But he loves this choice too, it's very you... "You are fuckin trouble to be fair love..."

🐁He humours you when you ask if he wants a go, it's not that you need his help you just don't want him to be bored and he's looking around that store with a look of bewilderment on his face so you think perhaps he needs some guidance...

🐁So he has a go on the stuffing machine but only for a moment, "Don't wanna ruin your fun mousy, this is your day like..." You know he just doesn't want to run the risk of looking like he's actually into it and enjoying himself.

🐁"You have to give it a heart?" Him raising his eyebrow when you ask if it should be red or pink, "Do they have any black ones?" "Saiah! What are you trying to say about me?" "Oh don't act innocent mousy you're the coldest woman I know!" He's joking with you, he has this running joke that the first time he offered to buy you a drink you said no... That you're really hard to impress and that you did not make it easy for him to get you... But he loves all that about you... He secretly loves how hard you made him work...

🐁Anyway this triggers you having to explain this whole story to the shop assistant who is honestly just baffled to have a peaky blinder in the shop let alone to be hearing about their love life...

🐁 Definitely protests when you tell him about the voice recording... You spring it on him in the shop so that he doesn't have time to think of a good reason to back out. You've been a little calculated and you can see that he is livid you've managed to trick him again!! You always manage to trick him!

🐁But all it takes from you is one little pout and an "I'll make it worth your while" before he is stepping up to the recorder ready to give the performance of a life time.

🐁Teases you and stalls the recording making out like he's about to and then recording some stupid message instead that has to be erased. Messages like "I do not contain contraband goods" "I have the right to remain silent..." "Y/N made me do it..."

🐁But eventually he records the real message and it's lovely, personalised too because he says "I love you little mouse"

🐁 "Don't be too good with them stitches love, never know when we'll have to undo em..." He whispers to you and you bloody well hope he is joking. "Isaiah!" You hiss back, "my teddy bear is NOT going to be involved in any criminal activity..."

🐁Isaiah is the one who picks out the Too Hot To Handle t-shirt. At first he makes out like he's joking but when you hmm and say "Yes, I see the vision, I love it..." He tries to pretend he was being serious all along.

🐁Obviously makes some sly little comment about you being too hot to handle...

🐁 One day you go to give your bear a little cwtch and you think he feels kind of lumpy and kind of sharp in places... So you investigate the stitches on the back and oh my god you're going to KILL Isaiah.

🐁 You open the bear up to find diamonds though so maybe this is a secret you can keep... For now.

Michael

☘️ "you're fuckin kidding me..."

☘️ Out of all the blinders Michael has the biggest chip on his shoulder when it comes to masculinity... He really frets and worries about his image as a violent, dark and mean criminal. He likes to come off as slick and professional, an elite... But also as cold and dangerous, not to be messed with. Wants to command everyone's respect at all times...

☘️ "How the fuck am I meant to come across as respectable buying teddy bears y/n"

☘️ You just pout back at him all, "I don't know, hire the place out, show everyone how minted you are..." You shrug your shoulders and then refuse to look at him or speak to him until he caves... And if there's another thing that bothers him deeply it's the thought of not being man enough for his girl... So he has to cave... He can't have toxic masculinity literally be the thing making him seem like "less of a man"

☘️ You weren't actually expecting him to hire the store but he does, he shuts the whole place down for one night, makes them open for you when the rest of the mall is closed for the evening so that it's just the two of you in the whole building... That makes you feel extra special and also guarantees that he's safe from the eyes of anyone who might use this to ridicule him.

☘️ And because the place is shut down and because he's given very clear instructions that the staff are to leave you alone until you're ready to leave he is safe in the knowledge that if he wants to be soft and cute to you he can be... So he is... Of course he's still Michael, he's still a little brooding and serious... Still wants to have authority and control... But he shows that authority by being extra generous and spoiling you rotten in there...

☘️ You get to make multiple bears for sure, every time you say you can't choose you just have to turn and pout at him and be a little bit cutesy and he caves and gives you exactly what you want, and it comes with little kisses on the forehead or cheek. Holding your hand or walking round the store with his arms around you.

☘️He helps you with the stuffing but mostly because if he doesn't you'll be there all bloody night, you've got way too many bears to make all by yourself. So you put him on stuffing duty and you get to work putting their little hearts in and stitching them up.

☘️"Wouldn't have brought you here if I'd known how much work we'd have to do love, y'know I was hoping to be in bed before 5am..." He's only teasing you and really deep down he does love to see you so happy. And you are so happy, you're so sweet and content stitching up your little bears...

☘️ Which is funny because you're usually quite a feisty, hard to please woman, you come off as so chic and badass, he definitely isn't used to seeing you so calm and soft... But he likes this look on you and definitely decides he wants to try and bring it out of you more often...

☘️ Now, whilst Michael was busy concentrating on his task, you made sure to hide your favourite bear, which has gone unstitched because you have big plans for it... And big plans for Michael too.

☘️ Which of course absolutely floor him when you reveal them to him. "You want me to what..." He looks at you so deadpan you almost question whether he's going to give you what you want.

☘️ And he definitely puts up the biggest fight... "Fuckin no y/n... I'm not doing that... Imagine if that gets into the hands of my fuckin cousin eh... Family meetings will be unbearable!" He doesn't hear the pun until you start to giggle and he is so unamused by your laughing at him. But you can't help it.

☘️ "come on Michael please" you pout at him, giving him your best puppy eyes... He isn't budging though and you know you may have to go to an extreme... You drop to your knees, wrapping your arms around his legs, nuzzling into his trousers, then you look up at him again and it your darkest, sweetest voice you ask him again, "pretty please Michael..."

☘️ Makes you stay down there begging a little while because he enjoys hearing your voice when you get a little whiny, and he enjoys looking down on you from that angle...

☘️ but he does cave and he does do the recording, "I love you y/n..." He sounds a little grumpy but he does do it and you are happy. You reward him with a big kiss and promises to thank him properly later.

☘️ Michael literally locks this bear in a safe inside a cupboard whenever family visit, there is no way he's ever having one of his cousins find that by accident. "You're so dramatic Michael it's just a teddy bear..." "Y/N I would sooner lock myself in a burning building and slow roast myself than have Tommy find that fuckin bear..."

☘️ And that's good to know because it means you've got an excellent bargaining chip now for future arguments. One little video of that bear and Michael's little message, it would take seconds to post it in the family WhatsApp and he'd just have to deal with the consequences... Now obviously this is not why you made the bear... Definitely not.

Luca

🪽 I shouldn't but I picture modern day Luca as being Sopranos esque... Not like Tony's family but the actual New York mafia and how they're portrayed in the show.

🪽 And whilst I think the peaky blinders would be on like the New Jersey mob tier, Luca is above all that... he has so much power and such a serious reputation that he actually does not need to worry about being seen in a build a bear with his wife...

🪽 No one is going to say anything about him, not without literally losing their balls or something. People are very careful with what they say about Luca Changretta and his wife.

🪽 So when you ask he just smirks affectionaly, beckons you over to him, holds your cheeks in his hands and places a lingering kiss on your lips. "anything for you my little lamb..."

🪽 He has a flare for romance and he's a passionate man so he's going to turn the whole trip into an occasion. He will close the shop down but not so that no one sees him going into build a bear... people are going to know he did it... it's just so you can have free reign and take your time without feeling rushed... he knows if he took you there during opening hours you'd just keep letting little kids skip past you in the line and then you'd be there all day..

🪽 And he wants you to feel like your trip is all about you, no one else... so you get the store to yourself and he reminds you that money is no object... "But space is Piccolina... We don't want to have to build an extension just for your teddy bears..." He's teasing you of course... he probably would do that if he needed to.

🪽 He's very cool about being there, browsing slowly, though he's watching you the whole time rather than paying much attention to the bears, admiring you from every angle as you concentrate on your choices. Every time you turn to ask his advice he simply tells you "Whatever you think is right Angioletto, you know best..."

🪽 And then to your surprise he sends you off on your own for a little while, and whilst you're busy wrapped up in your little tasks, stuffing your bears just right and putting their little hearts in, he's picking a surprise out for you... a teddy you completely missed!

🪽 When he comes to join you at the heart station he's hiding something behind his back... and when he presents it to you you gasp and clap your hands together so touched by it.

🪽 "A little lamb for my little lamb..." he says it very suavely and you can't help but blush and get butterflies. "Now why don't you show me what to do next?" So you tell him about the little hearts and how you have to give the teddy a voice and how you can do the little recordings... you don't outright tell him you want him to record something for you but he knows you well enough to know that you'd just love it if he did...

🪽 So he takes the heart from your hand and holds it to his lips, eyes locked with yours ever the romantic... and then when he does the recording he thinks carefully about what he's going to say...

🪽 "luce dei miei occhi, amore della mia vita, finché morte non ci separi..." (light of my eyes, love of my life, til death do us part)

🪽 And of course he's holding your cheek in his hand as he says it and of course he kisses you passionately the moment he's finished up... and of course he can't keep his hands off you holding you by the waist... almost getting carried away... and youve melted like butter at his beautiful words.

🪽 Honestly for awhile there you probably get a little distracted from the task at hand (shopping for bears) and spend a little too much time being desperately in love with your husband...

🪽 Your little lamb bear does not look like something that should belong to a mob wife... She's so cute, and Luca finds this a little amusing... That his wife, who is always so chic and styles, so...well... Mob wife... Has gone and made herself the most adorable, very pink, little teddy bear...

🪽 When you get to the checkout you have quite the little hall, the bears you made yourself all in a little basket, and your new favourite little lamb clutched tightly in your arms. You've already decided this little lamb is your most treasured possession...

🪽 At home you hardly let it out of your sight, you're so proud of it, and you can't stop listening to Luca's confession of love, he keeps warning you to be careful not to wear the batteries out but you're too giddy and in love to listen...

🪽 Luca doesn't tend to travel anywhere without you, but on the odd occasion that you have to be parted you like to listen to his little recording before you go to sleep, it makes you feel safe and loved.

Aberama

🦔 I guess there's a bit of an age gap here and Aberama is getting pretty used to hearing you say things he doesn't really understand...

🦔 For example when you ask to go on a trip to build a bear workshop, he really thinks you mean a literal bear building factory... He's a bit confused as to why you'd want to visit a production line... And when he asks and you giggle he quickly realises that this is one of those things he's misunderstood...

🦔 But he's willing to learn he supposes, even if the idea sounds a little mad to him...

🦔 And Aberama is too old to be worried about looking too soft, he doesn't care one bit what anybody else thinks of him, he only cares that his girl is happy and getting all the love and little treats she deserves...

🦔 Will do some research as to which is the best build a bear store in the country and plan it into the route you're travelling... He won't tell you that's what he's doing, so by the time he surprises you with the little day trip you will have forgotten that you'd asked him about it...

🦔 Your reaction when you see where he's taking you is so sweet, how at first he can tell you're a little uncertain, that you have your suspicions but clearly don't want to get your hopes up too much... But then you're sure that he's taking you there because you're standing right outside the shop and he's waiting for the penny to drop and you turn to him with these wide sparkling eyes...

🦔 "This is what you meant isn't it sweetheart?" He asks with a chuckle when you nod your head and squeak with excitement ever so adorably...

🦔 He lets you lead the way because as we've established he's got no idea what goes on here or what the deal is at all... But he thinks it's so sweet how you explain all the steps and give him a little walking step by step tour/tutorial.

🦔 You ask him to help you pick which teddy to get because there are so many you love but you really do only want to get one and besides you both like travelling light... One of Aberama's many nicknames for you is "duckling" and so you end up getting a little duck, which you name "buttercup" another one of his nicknames for you...

🦔 You think she's perfect because she matches your woodsy little aesthetic and also she's just undeniably adorable!!

🦔 You want him to help you with each step so that he can be involved too, "Cause I've done it before but you haven't and I don't want you to miss out!" You insist, and that is partly true... But it is also partly down to the fact that you find it entertaining to watch him struggle to get his head around everything.

🦔 He's pretty good with his hands and very nimble fingered though so he'd be very good at the stuffing and stitching... When you show him the little hearts to put in the bears he can't help but chuckle... He's not exactly cynical in his old age but he definitely thinks that somewhere there's a very rich man because of this "experience" they've managed to sell to people...

🦔 But how can he fault them when you're revelling in that "experience" right before his eyes and you look so so happy...

🦔 He laughs again when you show him the bit where you do a voice recording, "God they've really thought of everything haven't they sweetheart..." He chuckles, you giggling when you scold him for spoiling your fun...

🦔 But of course he does it... I kind of imagine Aberama has quite a way with words, can create quite sentimental homely poetry off the cuff, something very short and sweet... And like honestly my apologies for not including this but my brain is not capable of writing a little poem right now

🦔 Anyway, he reads it beautifully and so calm and slow that you get a little bit worried the recorder is going to time out and he'll have to start again. But luckily the poems very short and sweet.

🦔 Thinks the birth certificate is absolutely insane and does laugh about it, humours you but you do both have a good giggle about it...

🦔 You can't find anything you want to dress your little duck in in the store because you're very fussy about your woodsy little aesthetic and you want her to dress like you dress... And Aberama can see you're a little disappointed you couldn't find anything that felt right so...

🦔 He works away in secret each night after you've gone to sleep to make a tiny replica of a Pinafore you own, one that's the perfect fit for your little duck... Each night he has to wait until you've fallen asleep, sneak out of bed, sneak your cuddly toy away from the bed too, and then work until the early hours in very dim lamplight so as not to wake you...

🦔 There's a couple times where you wake in the middle of the night and he has to be so quick to hide his work and pretend that he was simply getting a drink of water...

🦔 Then one morning you wake up to your little duck sitting by your pillow in this perfect little pinafore... Your heart absolutely bursts and you're genuinely amazed. "Oh my god... Did you do this?" You can't believe how sweet and thoughtful a gesture it is and you're also incredibly impressed by his handy work...

🦔You show her off to everyone you possibly can which does of course mean that poor Abe does in fact wind up getting the piss ripped out of him by some of his friends... And bonnie, god bonnie won't let him live it down saying things like "here the bairns need new clothes da, what're you doin making clothes for a teddy bear when your own flesh an blood are cuttin about with holes in their jackets..."

🦔 But you're so proud of your little bear and so thrilled that Aberama gave it that sweet little finishing touch, he's not bothered what anyone else has to say...

Finn

🌸 is going to say no... Definitely is bothered about looking soft, definitely will be extremely paranoid about being ripped into by his older brothers and his mates...

🌸 Already knows the things they'll say to him, all the comments about if he needs that for when he has nightmares... All the comments about how whipped he must be if he's building teddy bears with you.

🌸 But he's also definitely young enough that he will just so whatever his girl wants, he's a bit of a pushover and if you tell him you're going and he needs to go with you or he's dumped (not even really a serious threat) he will go...

🌸 But he will be massively awkward about being there, he'll be proper skulky constantly checking his periphery for anyone who might know him... Definitely puts his hood up when you're walking into the store, definitely keeps his hood up the whole time.

🌸 The whole time you're in the store he's got this semi blush on his cheeks, his freckles shaded with a slight pink glow behind them....

🌸 he finds it all a bit uncanny, thinks the bear skins are a bit "fookin weird..." But he goes along with everything because the quicker you get on with it the quicker it's over and the quicker he can get out...

🌸 You spend a lot of this trip laughing at him and taking the piss out of him because he's being a baby... "You're being daft Finn, lighten up babe... You don't gotta be so serious all the time you're Finn Shelby not Tommy..."

🌸 You try to get him to do little bits with you, he just laughs nervously when he's doing the stuffing and then gets awkward about the heart...

🌸 He definitely is a bit mortified when you ask him to do the voice recording... "Seriously babe? Do I have to?" "it's not like I'm askin you to kill someone Finn jesus..." "I'd fuckin rather you did love I'm better at that!"

🌸 he does do the recording in the end but it's quiet and muffled because he mumbles it, he's too worried about other people in the store over hearing him...

🌸 You let him dress it and it winds up looking like this...

AN // happy Valentines day my lovelies, hope this brings you some fuzzy cosy vibes this evening!! This took me like two whole weeks to write :o sorry they don't all come with a bear, there will be more bear analysis soon I think... And sorry some are shorter than others, I really only threw poor Finn in there because the thought of him sulkin in build a bear made me giggle.

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[jaehaeryshater]

“Near the end, [King Jaehaerys] grew certain [Alicent] was his daughter Saera, returned to him from beyond the narrow sea.”

artist: @riotarttherite

I had the great pleasure of commissioning, in my opinion, one of ASOIAF fandom’s greatest artists on this gorgeous piece. I had never commissioned any artwork before and didn’t know what to expect, and this far exceeded my expectations. The attention to detail is beautiful and the overall piece conveys exactly what I was envisioning in my head, so I wanted to start off with a big thank you.

The idea for this art piece was originally a “what if” or AU where Saera either didn’t get caught at the brothel or was brought back from the Silent Sisters as was allegedly Jaehaerys’s plan (or if she had bonded with Balerion and gotten to stay! Would have loved that for her) so she stays in King’s Landing and becomes his caretaker in his old age instead of Alicent Hightower. As his daughter, she would have significantly more influence in being able to “speak for him” instead of a caretaker for another House, so although I do not take Saera as someone particularly obsessed with power, I do find it very interesting to imagine her deciding to cause chaos as the Old King’s mouthpiece. The streets of King’s Landing are burning as we speak! Even before Jaehaerys seemed to succumb to dementia, Saera did appear to have a strange influence over him, so once Alysanne passed away, it only makes sense that Saera would become the person in his ear. Not all that great for the smallfolk or even Lords of the realm, but great for drama and storylines. And Saera, of course! I’m sure she would have paraded everywhere, weighed down by jewelry and the finest wines. Perhaps she would have had a full menagerie, as she appeared to love animals. Definitely an elephant there somewhere.

As this piece was being worked on, however, I did think of a second meaning to the art that I also think is really neat. You could also view this as what Jaehaerys is seeing as Alicent is caring for him. He did believe her to be Saera in the end, as his mind was being lost. His Saera had come back to him, and although I do not like Jaehaerys and think he probably deserved worse, he most likely died happy at that thought, believing Saera was reading to him. So if you prefer to interpret this as viewing things through Jaehaerys’s mind, I welcome you because I love it at least equally to the first idea.

Lastly, the detailings are beautiful so I wanted to touch on them and give them the attention they deserve for the moment. I asked Riot to have a caring but sinister vibe, that she is caring for him for a plethora of reasons but certainly that includes self-serving reasons. I believe this was captured really well! I wanted it to be illustrated that Jaehaerys had lost his wits a while beforehand, so he has a vacant look, and Saera has the keys, showing that she is the real power behind the Crown. She has several expensive jewelry pieces (she has many from her lovers, but she doesn’t bother with them, leaving them to collect dust, only thinking gifts from the King are worthy to wear), but my favorite was one I specifically requested. Her jeweled bodice, which contains replicas of the King’s jewels that are present on his crown. Dare I say, she had her mother’s crown repurposed for herself? The intention is clear, Saera is effectively the Queen now, not in name, but Queen nonetheless. As for the general fashion, I told Riot that my favorite era of fashion was the Tudor era, more broadly 1300s- 1550s. As you can see, this was more than delivered and extremely beautifully inspired by historical fashion. GRRM doesn’t always describe his character’s outfits, and the GOT and HOTD outfits were often lackluster. This was exactly the type of beauty I was looking for. The dragon embroidery on Saera’s sleeves? Mwah!

Anyway, thank you so much for geeking out with me! The Saera/Jaehaerys dynamic is one of the most interesting dynamics to me. There’s simultaneously so little and so much there. It’s complex and layered, I can’t stop thinking about it. If you have been on my tiktok, you may have heard about my extensive theory regarding that dynamic, iykyk. If you ever want to talk about them, absolutely feel free to inbox me. More commission ideas coming this year definitely, at least a couple more of this dynamic, but I don’t know how a piece could be any more perfect <3