#(Speaking of judgement. Yes I saw that ask that was sent to me <3 Give me a while longer to respond though-

[wayfinderships]

Thinking about girlfriend,,,, Girlfriend pretty and sweet,,,I just wanna cuddle and kiss her-

[island-ofthelost]

okay.. so this is going to be long because it's something that has been hurting people I know on here a lot lately.

I saw a reblog you did to a post someone did on here today about Five, and originally when I read this particular post this morning, it made me feel bad. I know it was just their opinion and they have every right to it, but the way they wrote it was just so, "Everyone else who doesn't see it this way is wrong."

Your reply in your re-blog was what I think we all need to hear.

I'm being a wuss-bag by saying this anon, but I don't want to get into it with people on here.

I would make this comment on the post, non-anon, but I have already had so many shitty bullying anon asks sent to me about my posts that I do for anon replies, and on many of my other posts where I am just trying to have fun and be creative. People have also come after me non-anon about me writing stories with Five in romantic situations or because they think my other posts suck. I am just trying to avoid more of that mean stuff and the back talk from these guys that they do in their other posts that they may or may not think don't get send around to all of us.

Message to them-we do see them. It's a relatively small community within the TUA fandom.

Mostly, I just want less hate and judgement going on, and your reply was a great way of explaining another way to look at this that includes everyone, and I really really appreciate that.

I just wanted you to know, that there are so many people out there that feel bad about this stuff, and that they and I agree with you. I support you and I think that you made very good sense without being mean to anyone.

I also just wanted to say how brave you are for speaking up to make the very good point that, yes, Five Hargreeves as a fictional character may be aroace, or maybe not so much, or maybe somewhere in-between on all that, just like so many real people are. But he also very much could have had real romantic feelings of intimacy with Dolores and he could have those same things with someone else if given the opportunity and time to get there.

Five may be into girls, or guys, or both, or no one. He may like blondes or pink haired people or banging aliens with two heads for all I know. He could be autistic. Fuck it, he could be anything because he's a fictional character we can all bend anyway we want and project our own beliefs and feelings on. That's the point of fanfiction. The show and comics lay out stuff pretty clear about Five on emotional stuff and all that relationship stuff, be it with Dolores or chicks he is hitting on, or his family, but still all of that is up to interpretation by the many viewers out there and it's all good. That's the big picture.

People need to stop putting down others on here. It's all good guys!

I see posts on here all the time by people saying cruel things about different ships they don't agree with, or about other users tastes, either intentionally or maybe not intentionally, and they do it because when the people they don't agree with dive into the fictional world of Five, they see him as someone capable of anything, and often times this includes a romantic relationship with someone real.

And yes, I see Five's interactions with Dolores romantically, and I might be wrong on that, but I do. Even well after Five was out of the apocalypse and he came to her, he missed so badly. He feels things for her whether she is real or not. It's real to him. It's heartbreaking but real. Five kisses her and says mega romantic things to her in Italian in season 3 when Jamie spits on him. That was in his head. His thoughts. His desires. His feelings coming out in that scene. She didn't make him do or see that. I thought it was sad and beautiful and only made me love the character more. I think Five has more heart than any of them-capable of so much love if he's only given the chance to give and receive it. Like you said, maybe somewhere down the line, Five could have that. I hope he does, but even if it's not romantic or physical love, that's perfectly fine to. I can bend my brain to see anything.

I have seen it called disgusting to think Five capable of physical forms of love and intimacy that are romantic or sexual in nature. I have seen posts bashing the writers and the people that read anything with him in these situations. There's many on here making posts for the soul purpose of calling other people on here disgusting for envisioning Five as someone with infinite love of all kinds. They say they are sickened by all the Five X reader insert pairings tags, and they are horrified by people out there who want to envision a part of themselves in these stories with Five. All sorts of tags have been called disgusting and really, if they feel that way and don't want to see it, then you can filter tags you don't like so you never see them. Why not do that instead of bashing people who have done nothing to you.

I often wonder how they would feel if they saw posts saying what they thought or wanted to read or buzz excitedly about was disgusting?

I think they'd feel judged and pissed and sad. And they wouldn't be wrong.

I think it is sad to tell anyone else that what they feel is wrong. I don't think that is exactly what the post I am referring to today was doing or trying to say. I think that person who wrote that is a very nice person and a great writer, and they love the show and the character, and they are just trying to answer the question as it was put to them, as in how they see Five. They just didn't see the potential for the hurt that could be taken with the way they wrote that reply. Again, it was an ask reply, and they were just giving their answer, but I see and feel the pain in the way these things come off, and I wish people posting would consider that before posting the way they do.

I never want anyone to feel embarrassed or be shamed by something as silly and normally fun as fanfiction and what they like to read or write in it.

If we could all see that nobody wants to be judged for how they feel and for who they are, I think the world would be a better place.

There is nothing wrong with romance, no romance, sex, no sex, hugs, no hugs, or whatever. By dividing each other by things like our desires or lack of them in certain things, we separate ourselves in ways that aren't good, and it makes the problems of understanding and accepting each other all the harder.

We are all people, and we are all okay no matter who we are. Thank you for making me feel that way. ❤️

Well fuck, this is a long ass ask, but thank you so much for trusting me with your feelings, anon. I don't know if I'm the best person for this, because I'm famously not a fan of Five in romance fics, and not because of his sexuality but the fact that his body is still a minor in most of the contexts they're written in, but if people age up his body I still find it strange because I do think he is on the aroace spec, but I would never find it disgusting or tell people what they can or can't do based on my headcanon no matter how popular. you wanna write Five fics that take place in or post season 4 or with him aged up? go the fuck ahead. not my cup of tea, but I would never harass anyone for it.

what I find troubling is that people want to discount the feelings he's clearly shown to have as a "trauma response" or "something he knows is wrong" in favor of their headcanon that isn't confirmed is frankly cringe as fuck. he's a complex guy that probably was genuinely romantically involved with the mannequin, no matter how weird. love is love until it's not allowed to be I guess.

Idk, again I find most Five fics weird as fuck but people are allowed to do whatever they want, it's not hurting a community that I happen to be a part of and I'm sure some of these people are not part of, and if you don't wanna read a fic (which again, I don't) just don't read it, nothing is being shoved down your throat.

Thanks for the ask.

[catzula]

(Don't) Let me be the judge of that

a/n: enemies to lovers w Osamu. Nothing more to say.

genre: mostly fluff, enemies to lovers au, fem!reader

warnings: Osamu being an ass in the beginning, swearing, mentions of social anxiety, 5.6k

《Synopsis: Osamu Miya is too judgemental for his own good, never accepting he's simply wrong. You're here to change that.》

Osamu Miya had a habit of judging people. It would take him one look and a few seconds to decide whether he liked someone or not, the answer often being the latter. But the worst part was just how stubborn and maybe a bit self-centered Osamu was. He trusted himself a little too much, and it was impossible to change his opinion of someone after he had made up his mind, and if he didn't like someone, that was it, he would never grow to like them.

Or so everyone -including Osamu himself- thought until you entered his life.

~

You weren't surprised to feel the brown pair of eyes looking your way when your professor announced the project was in pairs. "Decide on your partners until the end of the hour and give me a list of the groups." He told the class and leaned back in his chair.

"Y/N!" You heard him before you saw him, a mop of bleached blond hair coming into your view right after. "Hi, Atsumu." You offered him a smile as you pocketed your phone, tilting your head when he frowned in response. "I already told you, Y/N, it's 'Tsumu to you!"

"Why?" You sighed annoyedly. Having had the conversation once before, you knew damn well he wouldn't stop until you did what he wanted, but you still chose to resist.

"Because," the boy whined, "it's a sign of our friendship. Only my friends and 'Samu call me that, and I want you to call me by my nickname, too." You chose not to talk about how he excluded his twin from his friends, knowing that would only lead to another argument. 

"Who even came up with this stupid name? It doesn't make any sense, it's only one syllable shorter, and it's even harder to say!" Atsumu's warm-brown eyes narrowed. "It's not stupid!" He protested, pouting until you gave up.

"Okay, okay, whatever. 'Tsumu-kun. There, happy?"

"Tsumu." The blond corrected with a grin.

"Kun." You added (to rile him up)

"Only Tsumu, goddammit! We're close enough."

"Are we, though? We only know each other for... what? A week?"

"A month!" Atsumu gasped as he corrected you. "And it doesn't matter how long we know each other, okay? It's a matter of how well we connect." His frown got deeper when you made a face, muttering something about him being cheesy, so he decided to switch strategies.

"But you always call me by my name when we're alone, Y/N-chan." Words spoken as flirtatiously as possible, Atsumu never missed the chance to tease you.

"A-atsumu, what the fuck, don't make it sound weird!" You exclaimed, already aware of the murmurs starting to spread around the room and the eyes turning on you both.

"There we go," Atsumu grinned when he heard his name falling from your lips, "wasn't that hard, was it?"

"You just had to be a little shit." You sighed, and his grin only spread wider. "I am a little shit, aren't I? Thank god I'm handsome. Anyway, I'm writing our names down." 

"It feels like we're getting married, seeing our names standing next to each other like this." He sighed, wiping the nonexistent tears from the corner of his eyes as he handed the paper to the person sitting behind you. You heard someone gasp at his words, and you never wanted to hit someone with a chair this much in your life.

"Shut the hell up!" You whisper-yelled, only feeling your anger growing when he sent you an innocent look. "What? I'm just saying-"

"I swear to god," You flared, "I'll tell everyone that one time you ran out of the library screaming when you saw a cockroach if you don't shut up." His grin disappeared as soon as you spoke the words, eyes widening and mouth shutting.

"You promised to never talk about it!" You had to admit that it did feel powerful to see him so panicked, face flushed, the sleazy look that was almost always in his eyes nonexistent and replaced with something similar to fear.

"It's up to you wether I talk about it or not." You shrugged.

~~~

"Woah, you look tired." You heard a familiar voice say as he plopped right next to you on the bench, holding a homemade bento in his hands, wrapped too neatly to be made by him.

"And whose fault is that?" You muttered, trying to conceal your murderous intent towards him. Even just thinking about your day gave you headaches. You groaned when he shrugged, focusing on unwrapping the bento box. "Yours, idiot!" 

"What did I d-" You winced when he spoke after taking a big spoon of rice and showing you everything that was in his mouth. 

"Your fans wont let me be! Ever since we started hanging out, it's almost like I'm being harassed."

"That's not necesarrily my fault." Atsumu shrugged, proceeding with another bite of his food. 

"It is, actually. I know you like to tease me, but if you keep saying shit like 'oh look our names together, feels like we're getting married' or that fucking 'you call me by my name when we're alone' you make it worse! You know how many people came up to me and asked if we were sleeping? One even asked me if we were engaged! We've known each other for two weeks, for god's sake!"

"A month." Atsumu corrected, shutting up when you sent him a look. "That's not even the worst part. Whenever I don't give an answer, or the answer they want to hear from me, people start to-" 

They started to get mean. Some even insulted you without batting an eye, speaking of how you weren't even pretty, that you had to be sleeping with Atsumu to be near him, and many fucking more.

"What?" He asked. "People started to what?" You knew he could sense how tense you were starting to get, but you always started to fight with him whenever he asked if people were bothering you, never answering his question, despite the answer being obvious. 

"Nothing, its just frustrating." You shrugged, taking a bite out of your meal to stop yourself from talking -or crying-. 

"Look, I can guess what's going on." Atsumu sighed, "and the only reason I can think of of you not telling me what's happening is that you don't want me to interfere, but you should tell them to piss off, already." He advised you the same stupid sentence he had been advising the past few days, ever since he noticed how his fans acted towards you. 

"Yeah, thanks for the advice, jackass. It would be easier if you stopped being so extra." You muttered into your cup full of coffee, feeling a tinge of guilt, putting the whole blame on him and not admitting you probably should tell people to mind their business already.

But you just weren't the type of person that was comfortable with talking to people you didn't know or know well enough, and you certainly weren't going to tell people to 'piss off' so comfortably.

You gulped when he sighed. "Okay, sorry, you're right, and I went overboard. But I gotta go to training now. It'll end around 5 p.m, so come to my place at 6?" He raised to his feet as he took one last sip of his drink when he finished his food.

"And if anyone asks you if we're married again, you have my permission to say yes." He grinned, patting your hair twice before you rolled your eyes, but couldn't stop a giggle from escaping your lips. "Oh, thank you, gracious lord." You cried out dramatically, scoffing when he pinched your cheek. "Exactly."

~~~

"I'm going into shower." Atsumu announced as Osamu shuffled through the fridge. 

"And?" The grey-haired twin asked from the fridge without pulling back, locating the eggs, and taking some out. "Do you want my help or something?

He expected an equally sarcastic comment from his brother, lifting his head as he closed the door of the fridge. "Cook for 3 today, a friend's coming over." He heard him say instead.

"A friend?" Osamu quirked his brow, ready to laugh given the punchline, but it never came.

"Yep." His twin answered instead, popping the p like some idiot middle schooler. "She's nice, you'll like her." He grinned, and Samu was already sure that wouldn't be the case. "Is this the girl ya can't stop talking about?"

Osamu couldn't say he wasn't interested since it was rare to see his brother drawn to anything but himself and volleyball, especially not to a girl. And judging by how Atsumu spoke about you, it was evident he had a particular liking to you.

The smug grin on Atsumu's face gave Osamu his answer, to which he grimaced. "don't wanna hear a fucking sound."

"She's coming over to study, you pervert! We have a project together."

"Yeah, whatever, I said what I said." Osamu shrugged, turning his back to Atsumu and started to chop the vegetables, unable to shake off the unlucky feeling pooling in his stomach.

~~~

"Oi, shit-head, does yer friend have any allergies or somethin'?" Osamu knocked on the bathroom door that had steam coming from the gap beneath it. He waited as Atsumu closed the water. "Eh, I'm not sure." 

"Yer not sure? How long do you even know her?"

"A month." Atsumu answered, turning the water back on. A month? It wasn't like Atsumu didn't get close to a girl he knew for such a short time, but Osamu had never, ever seen Atsumu bring a girl home.

"Hurry up, already, what the hell are you even doing in there?!" Osamu shouted, knocking on the bathroom door and holding back an urge to kick down the door when he heard the happy humms of his brothers.

"Oi, idiot, I'm telling you- goddammit." He clenched his teeth when he heard the doorbell. 

"Hurry up or you're not eating." Osamu knocked one last time before he rushed to the door to let you in. 

He opened the door without thinking of opening the lights as well, and since it was well after the sun had set, he couldn't see what you looked like, but he knew he wasn't expecting- well, you.

You were bent forward, trying to undo the messy knot your shoelaces had formed when the door opened. Sending a glance at the silhouette standing at the door, you turned your attention back to untying the mess your shoes were. 

"Hey, Atsumu." You muttered without taking another look, assuming it was Atsumu who had greeted you. You didn't see how Osamu's face soured, dark-grey eyes narrowing at your form with some hostility he couldn't help.

In your defense, the light wasn't on, and you hadn't taken a good look at the boy standing before you, so it wasn't exactly your fault for not realizing it was Osamu, right?

No.

Strike one.

Osamu hated when people mixed him with Atsumu. Did they not see the bright platinum gray hair, clearly different from his twins piss colored one? Osamu hadn't dyed his hair for the sake of looking nice, and he certainly hadn't sat in the hairdresser for hours long just to get mixed up with his twin again.

You had noticed your mistake as soon as you stood up and looked at the tall figure staring at you, leaning on the door frame and his arms tied on his chest almost defensively. "O-oh," Osamu heard you mutter softly, not sure as to why your voice sent goosebumps down his arms. "You're not Atsumu."

The somewhat disappointed tone of your voice made him furrow his brows. The smile you had on your lips dropped as soon as you locked eyes with the grey ones, familiar yet strange, and Osamu could feel himself getting more irked by the second.

The truth was, you weren't exactly disappointed, mostly embarrassed and a little surprised, although the unsatisfied look his eyes held kept making you even more nervous. He waited as your eyes wandered over his face, over the scowl resting on his lips, looking so mean and hostile, you found yourself taking a defensive step away from him.

"I- uh," Osamu's scowl didn't move an inch when you forced a smile at him, and you checked the time on your phone to break the eye contact. "Atsumu told me to come by at 6, and... is he- is he home?"

"Yeah," The boy talked for the first time, and you noticed how his voice was deeper than his twin's. It was nicer, too, you thought. "He's in the shower, though he should be-"

"Y/N, you're here!" You heard the twin you were familiar with speak your name, standing in the entrance, hair still wet and dripping with excess water. 

"Don't get cocky, I'm here for the project." You rolled your eyes with fake annoyance, unsuccessful at hiding your smile. Osamu felt something in him shift as he watched the change in your demeanor, feeling- what, jealous? 

"You met 'Samu?" Atsumu approached you, not missing the tension hanging in the air. "Y/N, this is the inferior twin, 'Samu, as you can also tell. And 'Samu, this' Y/N." He introduced you, making you laugh awkwardly, but Osamu kept his glower. 

"Don't mind him, he can be an asshole sometimes." Atsumu whispered at you, which anyone even passing by outside the house could hear. "Look at who's talking." You told him with a snarky quirk of a brow, making Atsumu frown. "Mean."

The blond pulled you towards the living room, making you settle on the couch and plopping next to you. Osamu caught the glance you sent his way when he didn't sit, leaning against the wall that was across you, instead, and you found he still had that frown that seemed to be imprinted on his face.

Osamu's frown was deepening on his lips at how comfortable you looked next to Atsumu, the friendly banter you had the exact opposite of how uncomfortable you looked next to Osamu. Maybe it was the natural competitiveness that came with having a twin, but Osamu hated this feeling. Why couldn't you smile at him like that, too? Yeah, maybe he was acting like a dick, but wasn't Atsumu also?

"Go dry your hair, idiot, you'll get sick!" Osamu heard you tell his twin, watching you hit him with the nearest pillow. "Hm?" Atsumu turned to you with a grin, leaning towards you for easy access to his hair. "I thought ya could do it for me?"

Osamu watched you with interest as you glared at his twin with annoyance. "I hope you get sick." You narrowed your eyes at him. "If you keep this attitude around other people, I'll kick you."

"Alright, alright, I won't flirt with ya when other people are around." Atsumu grinned, and Osamu felt his appetite vanishing. "I'll just leave." He muttered to himself, closing the door behind him just after hearing your answer to his twin.

"Don't flirt with me, ever?" 

You had spoken it with such genuine annoyance that if you had listened closely, you could hear Osamu laughing from the other side of the door.

~

So, the meeting with his twin was anything but successful.

Osamu was very blunt with how much he hadn't liked you, his glare reminding you of the ones Atsumu had whenever his fans approached him, cold and cruel.

Grey was clearly the superior choice, though, that you found yourself thinking as you gazed at the blond. "What? Lost in my handsomeness?" Atsumu teased you when he noticed you weren't paying attention to the project. You had to hold yourself back physically before you said something along the lines of how his twin was hotter, but you knew he wouldn't talk to you ever again, so you shut your mouth and took the teasing. 

Luckily, Osamu was barging through the door before Atsumu could continue, bored-looking eyes finding you two where he had left you. "Dinner's ready." He told you and left the room.

"Food," Atsumu salivated, jumping on his feet the moment he heard his brother, ready to sprint to the kitchen. You shuffled awkwardly in your place when you felt his warm-brown gaze on you, expecting you to stand up, as well, and eat.

"I- uh," you muttered. "I'm not really hungry, and I ate before I came here." Lies. "Can't we just finish this project instead?"

Strike two.

Just as he started to think you weren't horrible, Osamu gasped from the other side of the wall when he heard you (the walls were thin), his teeth clenching in annoyance. Really? Did you prefer doing a fucking project over his food? The food he had cooked?

Osamu was never a forgiving person, but this- this was something he could never forgive, he decided on the spot.

"Oh, come on, stop bein' a baby." Atsumu told you, pulling you by your hand on your legs, he knew you well to understand you were hesitating to go there because of his brother. Or more as he was making you nervous and you would rather not eat than go in his presence. "Osamu's the best cook around, you'll see." He joked so you could relax a little, making you giggle nervously.

Strikeout.

Osamu flinched at the words, eyes narrowing on you as you entered the kitchen. Did you doubt his abilities? 

You thanked the boy as he placed your plate in front of you, steaming hot food, smelling so good that you wanted to bury your face in it, but the grey gaze hovering over you was making you so nervous that it made it impossible for you to take even a small bite.

"Do ya like it?" Atsumu asked you, noticing how you were nudging the food with your fork without eating. You flinched in your place, your friends' voice pulling you out of your thoughts and back to reality, to which you mustered a smile and nodded. "Yeah! Yeah, it's- it's delicious. Thank you." You turned back to Osamu, who scoffed at your words, causing you to frown. 

You could tell he didn't like you one bit, even though you weren't sure as to why, but you discarded the thought. He was free to like or dislike you, which, in this case, was the latter, though it stung a little since you thought he seemed nice when- well, when he didn't frown at you.

He seemed like the type you would either get along or hate mutually.

He had obviously chosen the latter, and both Atsumu and you could feel the almost hateful air coming from Osamu as he glanced at you with a disinterested, blank face. "Did ya have a bad day or something, 'Samu?" Atsumu broke the silence, and you felt like you could finally take a breath. "You look like someone kicked ya in the nuts."

"Fuck off, 'Tsumu." 

"Nah, you've been acting like a dick all day. What's with ya today?"

"I said fuck off!" Osamu warned his twin another time, this time successfully silencing the blonde. 

"Thank you," You broke the awful silence that followed Osamu's voice. "The food was delicious." You told him after you finished your food. You could still feel his gaze over you as you placed your plate in the sink and retreated to the living room. 

"Your brother didn't like me very much, did he?" Osamu heard you mutter to his brother after he had left, too, feeling a fracture of guilt in his chest as he caught the disappointment in your voice.

"It's just... 'Samu. Don't worry about it." Atsumu told you, closing the door behind you.

~

Osamu was hesitant to knock on the living room door.

It had been about two hours since you had gone in, and knowing his brother- he couldn't be sure as of what's to happening.

"Oi, 'Tsumu!" He barged in the room, discarding the thoughts before he gave up. 

"Shut up." Atsumu whispered, eyes lifting from his phone screen for a second and glancing at you. You, who was lying on the sofa and- sleeping?

"She fell asleep." Atsumu grinned at his brother's questioning gaze. "I'll carry her back to the car. Can you drive her home?"

Osamu didn't hold back his snicker when Atsumu's voice dropped volume as he asked the favor from his brother, still not able to admit to himself the defeat.

"Your hair is still wet, idiot," Osamu mumbled, his eyes wandering over your figure. "And I will��not take care of you if you go out and get sick."

"What?" Atsumu grinned mockingly. "Are you gonna carry her then? Be a hero for the girl you've been acting like an ass all day? What the fuck was up with you today?"

"I don't like her." Osamu shrugged.

"She's not the kind of girl you think of her as." Atsumu quickly responded, already aware of what his twin had decided about you. Atsumu knew Osamu too well, his stubbornness even more, so he wasn't exactly surprised when he shrugged. 

"Let me be the judge of that, and I don't have to like her."

"Whatever, you do you. But you know, you don't have to dislike her just because she's my friend, too."

Osamu stood silent, eyes falling back on you. He knew Atsumu was partly right, but he had his reasons not to like you, right? Osamu pocketed his car keys, nodding at his twin and lifting you off the couch.

Atsumu grinned at the audible gulp his twin took when you shifted uncomfortably in Osamu's arms, snuggling your body closer to him, your hand fisting his shirt unconsciously. 

You woke up with Osamu hovering over you, and it took you a second or two to notice you were in a car and he was tying your seatbelt. He was so close, yet so careful not to touch you, his smell -a different perfume than his brother's- filling your newly awakened senses with him, him, him. Your eyes met his when he tied it and pulled back, a brow quirking up as his frown settled on his lips. 

"Did I wake you up?" He muttered as he retreated to his seat, running his fingers through his hair as he fixed his mirror, pushing back the few stray strands back from his face. Osamu turned back to you when you stood quiet, a sarcastic smile quirking his lips upwards, but it fell as soon as you talked.

"Wh- uh, where's Atsumu?"

Osamu clenched his teeth, not knowing why it angered it so much that his twin was the first thing that came to your mind as soon as you woke up.

"Home." Osamu gritted through his teeth. "I'm dropping you home, 'Tsumu gave me the address."

He glanced at you when you stood silent. "He doesn't have a license." Osamu couldn't help but add, a feeling stirring in him when you laughed at that. "So he failed the exam and you passed? That must've been a blow on his ego."

"Oh, you have no idea." Osamu found himself laughing with you.

Silence. He could feel your growing anxiety, and you could tell he was nervous as well, the taps of his fingers on the stirring wheel echoing in the car. His hair reflecting the colors coming from the road, yellow, red, and green, the features of his face illuminated, you thought he looked too handsome to be true.

"Why are you friends with him?" Osamu blurted out after a few seconds of silence, but the question didn't seem to surprise you. "Why is anyone friends with anyone?" You teased.

"Atsumu isn't exactly the type people wanna be friends with." 

"Hm," he heard you humm thoughtfully, not answering the question. "If we're asking questions, well, here's one. Why don't you like me?"

He could feel your light gaze on him as he kept his eyes on the road. It wasn't if he liked you or not, but you asked him why. He found himself wondering where that annoying meak girl he had met inside went. "And you don't like me."

"No," you answered honestly, which he found amusing. "You're mean."

"And 'Tsumu isn't?"

He turned to you when you shrugged. "Well, Atsumu is, too. But there is a difference, you know."

"And what is that?"

"He's a naturally mean person." You explained as if it made perfect sense. "He's just mean, he doesn't try to be meaner or nicer. You, on the other hand," you looked at him. "I don't think you're naturally mean, not as much as him, at least. I think you're purposefully being mean, and thats why I don't like you."

You met his eyes when Osamu turned his eyes from the road to you when the car stopped at the red light, grey eyes glistening with reds and yellows from the road. Your eyes followed the small smile that appeared on his lips, and you couldn't help yourself from thinking how soft they looked. How much more handsome he looked with a smile, even with one as cruel as he had now.

"I just don't like you." He told you with as much spite as possible, not sure why he was deliberately trying to hurt you. His brows furrowed when you laughed at his answer, instead.

"You certainly aren't the first." 

"What does that mean?" He asked without missing a beat, the tension now almost solidifying in the air. His heart was hammering in his chest, eyes watching your smiling lips as he waited for your next words, your chest heaving in sync with his, and you were so close, so close that if he leaned even just a little-

"You only met me today, Osamu-kun." He felt goosebumps climbing his back as he heard his name from your lips for the first time. "You know me for what, a few hours at most, and here you are telling me you just don't like me." The cynical tone of your voice made him send you a glare, his hands working over the gear when the red illuminating the car turned green.

"People like you do this a lot, you know. Judge people by one or two mistakes they do, not even anything major, but things you don't like, and deem them unworthy of your time. And how much I hate it when they boast about it, too. What, do you think you're so perfect? Don't you ever make any mistake?"

"People like me?" Osamu repeated, uncharasterically silent after all those words you had spat. "Yeah, shallow people." You answered, but you weren't looking at him anymore as you tapped the window instead. "We're here." 

You were silent as he stopped the car, pulling to the side, and watched you open the door. "You know," he finally spoke, rolling down his window before you were too far. "You say I judge people so quickly, but you did a full-blown analysis just now, and you say I'm the one to judge quick?"

"Tell me, Osamu." You bent forward a little, leveling your face with his. "If you can promise me that you didn't think, ah, I know this type of girl, even once tonight, I'll take it all back and apologize to you."

You smiled when he stood quiet. 

"Goodnight, Osamu. Thank you for the ride." You told him before walking back to your house.

~

"Ya know, with the amount of time you spend here, you may as well move in." Osamu told you gruffly, eyeing you from his side of the couch. Your eyes followed him as he took a bite out of his food, adam's apple bobbing up and down.  

"I'll move in as soon as you leave." You answered with a fake smile, turning your eyes away from his as soon as you realized you were staring, hoping he hadn't noticed, but he had. 

"Yer sure ya want me to leave?" He quirked a brow at you, making you grimace. "Never been more sure." 

It had been about a month since you met Osamu, and it was like this ever since. Osamu never missed the chance to take a jab at you, or he couldn't sleep. You never backed down from it either, the fights going back and forth until either Atsumu got bored and pulled you away or one of their friends called you out.

You didn't enjoy it like they thought you did. In fact, it was getting tiring and annoying, but you couldn't stop yourself from taking a jab at Osamu whenever he shot you a remark.

He looked at you when you sighed, brows quirking up in a silent question. "When's Atsumu gonna be here?"

Atsumu had told you to come to his place that day, telling you he would be there in a few minutes after you and he had something to do, but as always, he was late at least an hour, and you were now stuck with his brother. 

"I'll just go home and meet you up later." You had told the blonde, but he had insisted you stay. 

"Have you ever seen 'Tsumu come somewhere not at least two hours late? I bet he won't be here for at least an hour more." Osamu chuckled. "I'm hungry." He added right after, eyes finding yours.

"And? You need me to cook?" You snickered, not expecting him to stay silent, looking at you for a few more seconds and rolling his eyes as he turned around and went to the kitchen. 

Your brows furrowed in confusion at the antic. Surely Osamu wasn't- he wasn't asking you if you wanted something, was he?

"At least open a movie or something as we wait." Osamu muttered from the kitchen. 

"Do you have something on mind?" You asked, feeling weird at how soft he suddenly was acting. "No, pick one."

"Okay," you muttered to yourself, emphasizing the 'o'. You thought of opening a volleyball match, Atsumu always liked it when you did, and maybe he would- no, why were you even thinking of what he would like? He told you to open whatever, hadn't he?

Still, despite reasoning with yourself, you were jittery as you opened a random comedy show from Netflix. Trying to focus your thoughts on the show playing, you did your best not to think about the silver-haired boy inside, failing miserably by how your mind wandered to him and the odd way he was acting today.

"Say, ya never gave me an answer as to why yer friends with 'Tsumu." He entered the room, carrying a tray with two plates and forks inside. The crooked smile on his lips was making your heart beat twice as fast, even though you didn't want to admit it, and the way he focused on holding the tray on balance, the slight crease between his furrowed brows. Osamu Miya was too handsome for his own good.

"Thanks," you muttered half-heartedly as you took the plate from him, not even aware it was an olive branch he was sticking out. Osamu's face fell when you didn't spare him or his food another look. "You never gave me an answer of why you don't like me, so I guess we're even." You laughed, smile wavering when he didn't laugh along.

He sighed, eyes glancing at you and then back at his hands. It made you antsy, making you feel like something was wrong.

"You chose this to watch?" He turned back to the not answering you. He shifted in his place when you hummed, "I can change it i fyou want." The way he hadn't made fun of your choice of the movie yet, was too uncharacteristic of him.

"No, its okay." He answered instead, ending the conversation -if you could even call this one. You ate in silence, tv playing in the background, though neither of you cared of it, your gaze meeting now and then until you couldn't take it.

"What is wrong with you?" You couldn't help but blurt out, turning the TV off and facing him. You watched him as he quirked his brow up, looking at you questioningly even though he knew what you meant.

"What is wrong with me?" He repeated.

"Why are you being nice?"

He turned back to face the tv after a beat of silence, looking somewhat... shy? What the-

"Wh-what was that?" You asked when he mumbled something, the answer so silent that it was inaudible. "I said," Osamu repeated, eyes still focused on his plate. "You told me you didn't like me because I- uh, I was rude."

His voice was still uncharacteristically quiet, but this time you heard him loud and clear. That didn't mean you understood it, though.

"What do you mean?" He heard you ask, your voice laced with something resembling suspicion, you scoffed when he stood quiet, standing up to your legs and picking your plate off from the table. "If you're trying to tell me you want me to like you, I'm not buying it."

"You're not buying it?" He repeated, mirroring your movements and standing up, making you realize how much taller he was than you. The way he was looking at you- what was it, hurt? No, it couldn't be. Anger would be more like it. 

"Is there no way of winning with you?" He asked, following you to the kitchen and placing his plate a little too roughly on the counter. "You say you don't like me because I'm rude. I try to be nice and you fucking ask me what's wrong with me? What do you want me to do, disappear?"

Now, there was no denying that Osamu was, indeed, hurt, as his face soured when you stood quiet, staring at him blankly at his question. "So you hate me this much." He muttered to himself, running his fingers through his hair. 

"I don't know why you expected me to like someone who has been nothing but rude to me since the moment we met." You shrugged, but a part of you wanted to tell him it was a lie, and despite everything that you- well, you liked him. 

The glare he sent your way was enough to make you choke on the breath you took, taking a step forward to you, close enough for you to feel dizzy with his scent.

"Well, that concludes it, I guess. This was stupid, anyway." Osamu muttered, but he was so close- so close that you could almost feel the heat radiating from him, your eyes fixated on his lips, and if you just leaned forward- a few millimeters was all there was.

"What was- what was stupid?" You whispered, noticing his gaze was also wandering on your lips. Your heart suddenly started thundering in your chest, and you couldn't even ask yourself what's happening? What are you doing?

"This," Osamu breathed against your lips, his gaze so intense over you that it sent chills down your spine. He finally leaned forward, doing what you wanted but couldn't do, the word "apologizing," being the last thing you hear before you felt his lips on yours.

It was a soft kiss, nothing similar to how you thought Osamu would kiss -not that you had thought on it, or so you told yourself-, this kiss was deeper, irrational, amazing. 

"Do you always apologize to people by kissing them?" You asked when he pulled back, smirking at the way your chest heave, feeling a tinge of pride at how breathless he had left you.

"Hm?" He hummed, not wiping that damn smirk off of his face, it even grew wider when he noticed you pressing your fingers on your lips, still in shock, "I don't apologize to people." 

It was true. 

No one had ever seen Osamu Miya change his opinion about something, about someone. He would never admit he was wrong yet apologize.

But here he was, standing before you -just as breathless as you were- apologizing. 

"Maybe you should apologize more." You told him with a sly smile, to which he happily complied.

~

"I wanted to make peace." He told you, sitting on the couch right beside you, refusing to look at you, though. "I've been trying to act nice for a while now, but you seem to- you don't like that."

"A while?" You repeat. "You were never nice to me!"

"I was trying." His brows furrowed at your protest. "But you always had something snarky to say, and I couldn't just stay silent, could I now?"

"But- what? You were always the one who started them!" 

"Was I?" He asked, giving you the time to think, watching your face in disbelief fall into a look of 'fuck, he's right.'

It was you who started the fights, despite thinking it was him all this time. Upon recognizing that, you started to see the times he actually was nice to you, which you had always discarded or turned a blind eye.

Biting your lip guiltily, your turned to him. "I might... owe you an apology." You muttered, very aware of how his eyes glinted, gaze falling back on your lips. "Well," he told you, smiling. "I can't disagree."

[fanfics4all]

Not One Of You Anymore: Part 28

Request: Yes / No 

Requests are closed <3 Have a nice day/night

John Murphy x Fem! Griffin!Reader 

Word count: 2086

Warnings: Getting robbed I suppose? 

Y/N: Your Name 

Summary:  You weren’t meant to be born but you were so when you were ten your mom and the Chancellor sent you to the ground as a test for the 100

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

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1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

John and I packed some things and left to meet Jaha at the Dropship. John was determined to get us to the city of light. He wanted us to have a life without judgement. I was mostly curious to see if it’s real or just a rumor like everyone says it is. I thought about Lexa a lot during our trek. I understood why she left me in the mountain, but if she found out that I was weak and fell in love she would kill me. 

“Sir, do you recognize anything?” One of the guys asked. 

“The tent was near here. I’m sure of it.” Jaha answered and I rolled my eyes. 

“Yeah right, it’s all just sand.” I mumbled and John sighed. 

“What’s the matter? You guys got some place better to be?” John asked as he pulled me along. 

“You have a point.” I sighed and he smirked. He stopped by Jaha and looked around. 

“You see anyone?” He asked. Jaha walked towards the wagon. 

“Bak op o ai na frag yu!” (Stay back or I’ll kill you!) A woman said and jumped up with a knife. 

“We mean you no harm.” Jaha said and John held me behind him. 

“Do you speak English?” Jaha asked. 

“What do you want?” The girl asked. 

“Nothing. It looks like you could use a hand. What are you doing out here along?” He asked and I looked around, something didn’t seem right. 

“My brother and I were on our way to the City of Light… when Wastelanders attacked.” She said, removing her face mask. 

“They took our horse. All our water, everything. They killed him. This cart is all I have left.” She answered. 

“Give her some water.” Jaha said and John started taking his bag off. 

“No, no, no. We barely have enough for ourselves here.” One of the men said. 

“Touch me again and I’ll end you.” John threatened, but I held him back. 

“I don’t trust her.” I whispered. 

“You don’t trust anyone babe.” He said and pulled me along. John pulled his water bottle out and handed it to her. 

“It’s okay.” He said and I kept my eyes narrowed at her. She took it and desperately drank it. 

“We’re on our way to the City of Light as well. What’s your name?” Jaha asked and I looked at him with wide eyes. 

“Emori.” She answered and I looked back at her. 

“Everyone in the Dead Zone is looking for the City of Light. Almost no one finds it. I can get you there.” She said and that’s when I noticed her covered hand. She’s one of the freaks… 

“If you pull my cart.” She added. 

“Done.” Jaha said and I gripped John’s arm. 

“We can’t trust her.” I whispered. 

“Caspian, you’re on the first shift!” Jaha shouted. 

“Then just trust me.” He whispered. 

“Thanks for the water.” She said, handing the water back to him. 

“It’s uh- It was no problem.” John said and I narrowed my eyes at her. All of us were walking through the Dead Zone, pulling Emori’s cart. 

“So I gotta ask, what made you ditch your home and risk your life to cross the beach from hell?” John asked her. I was walking ahead of them because I didn’t want to be near her. 

“It doesn’t matter.” She answered. 

“Come on, take my mind off all the fun we’re having.” John said in his usual sarcastic tone, making me smirk slightly. 

“It wasn’t my decision to leave.” She answered and I perked up slightly. 

“Kicked out? Okay, now I’m interested. What did you do?” He asked. 

“If I told you, you would not look at me the same.” She said. 

“Maybe. Then again, I might surprise you.” He said and I glared slightly. 

“What about you? How did you end up in the Dead Zone?” She asked him. 

“I could tell you the gory details, but since you’re one of the few people on this planet who doesn’t hate me at the moment, I don’t think I wanna blow it.” He answered and I felt my heart break slightly. 

“Now I’m interested.” She said with an obvious flirty tone. 

“Okay, you really wanna know? I killed two people. Tried to kill two more. I had my reasons, but nobody cared. I’m the bad guy.” He said and I frowned. 

“Told you I’d blow it.” He said after a moment. I looked back and saw she was showing him her hand. It was mutated. 

“My people saw me as a stain in the bloodline, something to erase. 

“Then screw them.” John said and I looked at him with a furrowed brow. 

“I wouldn’t cover it up. I think it’s pretty badass.” He said and my eyes widened slightly. 

“Ai don get in yu were won kom emo.” (I knew you were one of them.) I growled, walking up to them. Emori took out her knife and I took out one of my swords. 

“Y/N! Stop!” John said and Emori’s eyes widened. 

“Yu laik Heda’s ait meika?” (You’re the commander’s right hand?) she asked, still holding her knife to protect herself. 

“Yu beda na stedaunon!” (You should be dead!) I growled and went to go attack her, but John stopped me. 

“Calm down Y/N!” He said holding me close to him. 

“Let me go John!” I growled. 

“No, not until you tell me why the hell you’re attacking her.” He said. 

“She’s one of those freaks! Heda said they die.” I said. 

“You’re not with Lexa anymore. She left you to die, remember? She left you with Cage.” He said and I shuddered. 

“Don’t you dare mention that name!” I said and shoved him away from me. I could feel tears well in my eyes as the memories that didn’t happen that long again resurfaced. 

“Come here.” He said and pulled me to him, taking my sword from my hand and put it in its sheath. 

“For Heda’s right hand, you’re weak.” Emori said and I glared at her. 

“I’ll show you weak!” I shouted, just John pulled me back. 

“She’s been through a lot recently.” He said and pulled me away. 

“Don’t kill her, for me.” He said and I narrowed my eyes at him. 

“Why? So you can flirt with her more?” I spat. 

“What? I wasn’t-” 

“Save it.” I cut him off and walked off. 

Now it was Jaha, John, Emori, and I pulling her damn cart. It was hot, and hard to pull the cart through the sand. I was still annoyed at John for flirting with her and then lying about it, so we weren’t speaking right now. 

“Dei de’s far pleni!” (That’s far enough!) A man on a horse said, holding a large gun. 

“Chancellor, look out!” The guards shouted and held their guns at the ready. 

“Non gon mov!” (Nobody move!) He shouted. 

“Hold your fire!” Jaha said and Emori grabbed John and held a knife to his throat. 

“Wait!” John said as she pulled him along. I pulled my sword out and was ready to kill her and the asshole on the horse. 

“Everybody, put your weapons and supplies in the cart and nobody gets hurt.” She said. 

“Natrona! Heda was ait hashta bilaik kind!” (Traitor! The Commander was right about your kind!) I growled.

“En em looks like Heda was wrong hashta yu.” (And it looks like The Commander was wrong about you) She said with a smirk. 

“If we give you our supplies, we’ll all die out here.” Jaha said. 

“If you don’t you’ll die right here.” She said. 

“Say the word and I’ll kill her before he could even think about pulling the trigger.” I growled. 

“No, do as she says, now.” Jaha said. Everyone put their stuff in the cart but me. 

“Dula op em don eni techin?” (Do they have any technology?) The man on the horse asked. 

“Oso’ll dig au.” (We’ll find out.) She called back. 

“How’s your faith holding up, Chancellor?” John asked. 

“Shut up.” She said. 

“Unwavering.” He answered. 

“You don’t want to do this.” He said walking towards her and I rolled my eyes. 

“Stop walking.” She said. 

“We all came out here searching for a better life, same as you. Maybe we can find it, if we work together.” He said. 

“She’s not to be trusted.” I growled. 

“Shut up Y/N.” John said and I narrowed my eyes more. 

“Thanks. But no.” She said. 

“Emori, hos op!” (Emori, hurry up!) The man shouted. 

“Now, Y/N put your stuff in the cart and everyone back away and get on your knees!” She shouted. 

“Do as she says Y/N.” John said. 

“Fine.” I growled and put my things in the cart and backed away with everyone else, also getting on my knees. She turned and put John on his knees as well. 

“What a surprise, you’re just like everyone else.” He said. She whispered something in his ear and I glared at her. 

“Good luck, John.” She said then knocked him out. 

As soon as they left I rushed to John’s side. It was getting dark and we decided not to move until he woke up. 

“John.” I whispered, trying to wake him once again. 

“Come on John, we need to get going.” I whispered. John coughed and reached for his head. 

“There, he’s up. It’s about time.” Caspian said. 

“Quiet, Caspian.” Jaha said. 

“Are you alright?” Jaha asked and I helped him stand up. 

“If he’s not, we’re leaving him here. His little girlfriend too.” Caspian said and I glared at him. 

“Say another word and I’ll kill you.” I growled. 

“Easy Y/N, I’m okay.” He said. 

“It’s time to go home.” Caspian said and Jaha looked at him. 

“And where exactly is that?” He asked. 

“Sir, I know you’re trying to take us to a better place, but look around. We’ve got no food, we’ve got no water, and no idea how to find it.” Caspian said. 

“Due North.” John said and we looked at him confused. 

“She said due North.” He added and I rolled my eyes. 

“What is due North, John?” Jaha asked. 

“She was talking about the City of Light.” He answered and I scoffed. 

“Did she say that?” Caspian asked. 

“No.” He answered. 

“Doesn’t matter what she said, we can’t trust her!” I said. 

“Did she say how far due North?” Jaha asked. 

“No, she didn’t, but she wouldn’t be sending us there if we couldn’t make it.” He said. 

“You honestly want to trust the bitch that just stole all our stuff?” I asked. 

“Sir, I really hope you are not considering this.” Caspian said. 

“John, we have no weapons and no rations. If we go North and you’re wrong, then all of us will die. If we turn back now, we live.” Jaha said. 

“So that’s it? We’ve reached the point of no return? You wanna give up?” John asked. 

“I didn’t say that.” Jaha said. 

“You didn’t not say it either.” He said. 

“That is the North Star.” Jaha said pointing up at the sky. 

“After you.” He said and motioned for John to go first. John looked at me. 

“You coming?” He asked and I sighed. 

“You’re lucky I lo- I mean yeah.” I said and grabbed his arm, heading North. My cheeks were heating up as we walked away from the group. 

“The rest of you need to decide for yourselves, but either way, we’ll come back for you when we find it.” Jaha said. 

“Sir? This is a mistake! You’re not gonna find it! You’re not gonna make it!” Caspian shouted. 

“So… What was that you were about to say?” John asked walking backwards in front of me with a smirk. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I said, obviously playing dumb. 

“Really? Because I think you were about to say the L word.” He said, his smirk growing. 

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to.” I said and he furrowed his brows. 

“I believe this is what they call having faith, John.” Jaha said, catching up to us as we climbed the hill. 

“Faith? Nah, we just have nothing better to do, right Y/N?” He asked me and I bit my lip. 

“I suppose so.” I said and walked ahead of them. I can’t believe I almost  told John I loved him! I could never say that to him, otherwise I would be weak and I will not be weak again. 

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[solinarimoon]

A Place in This World

A/N:  This is my entry for @mrsalwayswrite 350 follower challenge.  Congratulations on your 350 followers!  You desreve them and so many more! My prompt was for the sense of sight and old books.  I focused on an OC I created that could potentially mold into a larger story.  This one shot takes place during season 3 of The Last Kingdom at the nunnery in Wincelcumb. 

Warnings: angsty, bastard, and abandonment.

Word count: 2219ish

A Place in This World

The rustling of Edlyn’s steps echoed along the corridor.  She tried to keep her feet light and gentle as she walked, but the bare walls and cold floors captured all sounds.

Evening meal would not be served for another hour or more.  Instead of waiting to be roped into helping prepare the food, Edlyn had taken her first opportunity to explore the new convent she was thrust upon.

Rounding the corner, Edlyn came up short when she saw a door ajar at the end of the hallway.  Peering into the room, she saw a warm glow from the fireplace illuminating a small chamber.  Lining the walls on one side, across from the fire so their spines danced in the flickering light, were shelves of books.  

Without thinking, Edlyn crossed the room and ran her fingers across the dusty volumes.  Slowly, her eyes rose taking in the sight of so many new stories to read.  One book in particular caught her eye, near the top shelf.  Edlyn glanced around to her side and saw a short stepping stool.

Carefully, she moved the stool before the shelf and climbed to reach towards the volume.

“It would be polite to inquire for permission before taking a book from our meager library, young lady.”

The sudden shock of hearing a voice, startled Edlyn.  She lost her footing and stumbled off of the stool to thump into the wall, somehow managing to refrain from knocking any of the books off in the ordeal.

“I’m sorry?” she questioned once she regained her footing.  She turned to face the other side of the room obscured by the open door.

“I was suggesting you ask if it is alright for you to take a book from our library.”

An elderly nun sat in a cushioned chair next to a round table.  There was a large collection of pages in front of her.

Edlyn cautiously approached the woman and squinted at the writing on the pages.

The nun settled herself back into the chair and folded her rheumatic hands into her lap, allowing Edlyn to view the pages properly.

Reverently, Edlyn slid several of the pages towards herself and picked them up to bring them nearer to the firelight.  

“You must be Edlyn.”

The young woman nodded wordlessly.  

“And what has brought you to our convent, young Edlyn?”

Shifting her eyes to meet the nuns and then back to the papers, Edlyn replied, “I believe you already know the answer to your question.”

“I know what my abyss has told us.  But despite my youthful appearance,” the crone chuckled wryly, “I am old enough to know that there is usually more than one side to stories like yours.”

Frowning, Edlyn brought the pages back to place on the table.  Contemplating how best to answer, she wandered back towards the bookshelf.

“Were you told of my parentage?”

“I was,” replied the old woman.

“Well being the bastard daughter of a king does not allow for a large selection of lifestyle choices.”

“Your brother found a path that did not include confinement in a monastery.”

Shocked, Edlyn quickly turned her head to meet the woman’s sharp, birdlike eyes.  Those eyes bore into Edlyn daring her to refute her words.

“Yes, he did.”

Edlyn had not expected to hear her brother mentioned, but in truth it was the second reminder of him she had since entering the room.

“Tell me,” the woman compelled Edlyn.

Edlyn sensed this particular nun was not to be ignored or contended with.  Sighing, she stepped back onto the stool and reached for the book on the high shelf.

“When we were children, after our mother died, my uncle paid the church to house us and to keep us together.  I’ve no doubt that he was largely influenced in this decision by our father as well.”

Edlyn stepped off the stool.  Glancing around the room and seeing no other chair, she picked up the foot stool and brought it to rest beside the fire. 

Taking a seat, she continued, “Osferth was always the more studious child.  Being twins, you might think we would favor one another, but we could not have been more different.  Even our looks did not favor each other. He is light.  Light brown hair and gentle, blue eyes.  And you see me before you.  Hair the color of raven’s feathers and eyes stormy like the sea.  He enjoyed our lessons, was courteous, respectful.  He was devout and the apple of the eyes of many of the nuns.”

“And I am guessing you, young Edlyn, were not those things.” 

Chuckling mildly to herself, Edlyn shook her head in reply.

“Abyss Bethylda was constantly recalling my attention back to our lessons.  I have a sharp tongue and a questioning and goading nature… Or so I am told,” she shrugged.

“So I ask again, how is it I find you here, in my library at this convent? It does not seem like the life that you would choose for yourself.  If I may make such a judgement after only meeting you a moment ago.”

Edlyn stared down at the book in her lap.

“This book contains stories of the viking raiders and their plunder of Northumbria?”

“It does,” answered the woman with a ponderance in her voice.

“As children, the one thing my brother and I had in common was a love for books.  For stories, really.  Our Uncle Leofric would visit us often.  We always listened to his war stories with rapt attention.  And we always found ourselves most fervently reading accounts of the northmen.  Particularly the attack at Lindisfarne.”

Gazing down at the bound pages, Edlyn traced the words and found her mind returned to a moment many years past.

~~~~~~~ 10 years earlier ~~~~~~~~

“Edlyn, don’t!” Osferth exclaimed as his sister climbed on top of the table.

“Hush, you’re meant to be guarding the door, Osferth.  And it’s fine.  I just need to step here and then I can reach it,” Edlyn whispered harshly. The ten year old placed a foot onto the shelving encased on the wall beside the table she was currently standing on.

Osferth turned back from peering out the door and down the hallway.  

“There is no one coming.  Did you reach it yet?”

“Not...yet….almost,” Edlyn spoke while straining to reach her arm up higher.

“Edlyn!” Osferth whined while approaching the table. “Why don’t we just ask someone to get the book down for us?”

“Yes, why don’t you?” A deep, rumbling voice came from the doorway. 

With a gasp, the young girl and her twin both turned to see who had caught them in their plot. Edlyn’s foot slipped and she shrieked as she felt herself begin to fall.

With two large strides, the man crossed the distance with the speed of a cat to snatch Edlyn before she hit the floor. 

“Uncle Leofric!” Edlyn exclaimed while throwing her arms around the man's neck.

He let out a hearty laugh. 

“I have missed you too, little Eadlyn.”

He placed the young girl onto her feet. 

“Keeping up with your studies, Osferth?” He asked while stretching his arm out to grasp the boy's shoulder with a fond smile. 

“Of course, Uncle. Abyss Bythilda suggests I should pursue becoming a scholarly priest.”

Quickly, Edlyn cut her brother off, “why would you want to do that Osferth?”

The boy turned his face down to the floor and shuffled his feet, mumbling “I never said it was what I would want. Only what the abyss suggests, Edlyn.”

“Stop giving your brother a hard time, young lady,” Leofric commanded. “Now, children, what was it you were willing to risk such daring behavior to access?” He asked while approaching the shelves. 

Osferth was quick to reply, “it was the accounts of the Northmen’s raid on Lindisfarne!” 

“This one up here,” Leofric asked while sliding the volume off the shelf and bringing it over to the window.  He opened the tome and turned to have a seat on the bench resting underneath the window’s ledge.

The children nestled next to him as he began reading the account aloud to them. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Edlyn broke from her reverie to look back up at the nun.  She found the woman’s own eyes studying her.

“If you had met Osferth when we were ten, you would have seen him as the one pursuing a life of God fearing obedience and prayer. Abyss Bythilda certainly thought so.  But we all realized much too late that he did not want that life any more than I did, than I do. He ran away in order to pursue a different life.  He left me behind.”

Edlyn spoke these final words softly, while bringing her eyes back to the book in her lap. 

“And what stopped you from also leaving the safety of the church?  You have a reputation for being strong and independent, young one.  And it is no secret that you have refused to take the vows, becoming one of our Order.  It is what has sent you to our doors from your previous nunnery.  Do you intend to continue to take advantage of the church’s generosity for the rest of your life? Being a bastard but still using your royal lineage to garner room and board”

Edlyn jerked her head to meet the older woman’s gaze once more. 

“You do not hold back your questions, do you old woman?”

Chuckling, the nun replied, “No I do not.  I am Sister Agatha. And I would not see a soul such as yours crushed under the obedience and piety that our lord demands of his disciples. Why is it that you stay? Truly?”

Edlyn stared at the old woman, not daring to trust herself to speak.  The woman’s questions cut to the core of the inner demons that Edlyn felt warring inside her head daily.  Her spirit longed to follow in her twin’s footsteps.  Osferth had left her.  He had struck out to forge his own life.  And Edlyn could not dismiss his betrayal. 

She longed to lead a life that was more.  More than what the church could offer.  More than prayer and obedience. More than quiet contemplation and reflection.  Just… more.  But the truth was that Edlyn was scared.  From her very birth, she had been forced to face adversity.  The life of a bastard daughter of a king.  She had endured the abandonment.  The rejection of her father.  Then the loss of her mother and being thrust upon the church. Then when her uncle was lost in battle.  And finally the abandonment.  Waking up to find Osferth gone.  

When he left, he had placed the account of the northmen’s attack on Lindisfarne on her bedside table along with a short note.  

“I can not remain here any longer.  

I must make my own destiny and find my own way. 

 It is where God is leading me.  I will miss you dear sister.

All my love,

Osferth”

Edlyn could barely make out the words in Osferths scratchy hand through the tears overwhelming her eyes.  With all of the loss in her life, all of the hardship, Osferth had been hers to rely on.  The twin piece of her soul that she could cling to when the rest of the world was dark and desolate.

And he had left her.

In the deepest and most secret part of her heart, Edlyn knew she was terrified to be abandoned again.  It was what kept her tethered to the church.  The church, despite her nature to rebel and push back on the strict and stingy rules, had always been there for Edlyn. 

“You ask why I stay, Sister Agatha? Truly?”

The sister answered with an unwavering stare.

“I stay because I fear to lose myself out there.  The church is my safe harbor in a world that I fear would drown me. But despite your blunt words, they ring true.  I am not made to be wedded to God.”

Edlyn frowned at her hands gripping the pages of the book in her lap.

Sister Agatha considered the young woman before her for some time.  

“We will see about that, young one.  We have had many young women come to our halls seeking refuge and protection.  And I have seen the lord call to some of them and seen him deliver many from peril.  I have also seen women find their courage and forge their paths.  Paths that do not lead to a life of nunnery.  I realize I have just met you, young one, but your eyes speak to me of great things.  We just need to find your mettle.”

Edlyn gazed at the old woman, thinking over her words.

Before she could formulate a response, Sister Agatha rose and held out her arm to the young woman.

Standing and replacing the book on its shelf, Edlyn took the older woman’s arm and the two retraced Edlyn’s previous paths to the kitchens to check on dinner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aethelflaed rode fast and hard towards Wincelcumb nunnery.  Eadlyn did not know it, but the arrival of her half-sister would bring about immense upheaval in her world.  And Sister Agatha’s predictions were soon to bear fruit.  Eadlyn would find her courage. And she would find her family and place in this world along the way.

Tagging my usuals (please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from my list):

@maggiescarborough @pokeasleepingsmaug @nxrdist @mystic-shadows42 @emilyhufflepufftlk @magravenwrites @lauwrite1225 @morosemagick @thebohemianpenguin @mrsalwayswrite @notyourwildestdream @obipoelover @ecarroll1978 @93xdiagonxalley @nobodys-business-world

If you would like to read more of my works, you may do so here

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Love or Duty by GleefullyCaptainSwan - Chapter 5/8

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx @deckerstarblanche

Chapter 5: A Dangerous Game

Emma spent the next few days locked away in her chambers, only leaving the room for supper. Anytime she came in contact with Killian, she would bow, keeping her eyes away from his, and retreating back to the safety of solace as soon as she was able.

It wasn’t that Emma had never kissed a man before, though she had never seen one naked, that much was certain. Seeing him strip down in front of her, exposing himself to her without remorse, had caused sensations she had never experienced before. She knew she never should have followed him into the water that night. She was never one to back down from a challenge and once he had pressed forward, she had no choice but to follow suit.

She knew that was ridiculous, she always had a choice. Yet with Killian, she wanted to rise to meet him where he was. He pushed her in a way that no other man had done before. She wanted to prove herself to him, to prove that she was more than just a Princess being offered to a man as a trophy to collect. Emma was capable of so much more; she was born to lead.

No one ever saw her that way, not her parents, she was sure that Liam saw her as a woman fulfilling her role, but Killian, he didn’t seem to back away from her strengths. He wasn’t afraid of her desires, her need to be more than she was thought to be. He understood her.

It was that understanding that should have sent her back to the castle instead of into the lake with him, baring her soul, her body, giving into the desire she couldn’t seem to contain for the man. She couldn’t wait to return home to be as far away as she could be from Killian Jones.

There was a knock on her door, and she jumped from the bed as Ruby entered the room. “Liam has returned. You will be expected at supper.” Emma groaned. “What has happened? You haven’t stepped out of this room for days. You won’t tell me why, or what is going on.”

“I’m fine, I just want to go home. I miss my parents.” She said, only half telling the truth as she spoke. That was better than fully lying to the girl, right?

“Are you sure it has nothing to do with the reason that Prince Killian has been moping around the castle? Did something happen between the two of you?”

“What are you insinuating?” She asked with her mouth wide open.

“Just that the two of you seem to be not getting along. I know he has been most disagreeable toward you recently. Perhaps he has not enjoyed needing to watch over his brother’s betrothed.”

Emma frowned, oh he was enjoying it quite well, if she were being honest, but since she was not, she instead shrugged. “How am I to know what is wrong with that insolent child, I’m not his keeper. Let us ready for dinner, I do not care to discuss such unpleasantries.”

“Of course, Ma’am.” Ruby conceded and set about braiding Emma’s hair and helping to stuff her into her gown for the evening. When she approached the dining hall that evening, she paused, gathering herself before she entered the room, a smile plastered onto her face.

“Good evening, Emma. I apologize for being absent as long as I was.” Emma bowed her head to Liam and smiled.

“What news of Locksley?”

“Much of the town was destroyed. We brought many people back with us to take shelter until repairs can be made. I am afraid I am only home to replenish supplies before I must return to assist with rebuilding the town.”

“Do you need assistance, I may not look strong, but I can pound a hammer better than any man.” She laughed.

“I would not see you put in any danger. Father plans to send you home in the morning, Killian will see to it that you and your maid arrive home safely. I shall come to Misthaven as soon as the village is safe again.”

Emma frowned, wishing he would allow her to help, the people of Locksley had been friends of her father’s. They were good people. But of course, she was only seen as a trophy that needed to be protected. She tried not to take offense, Liam was simply thinking of her safety, but she wished she could be seen as useful in ways that did not require her to be put on display or locked in a tower.

Across the room, Killian seemed to pace the wall, watching the two of them as they talked near the table. Emma could feel his eyes glaring into her. She purposely cast her eyes on his brother, not allowing his steely gaze to distract her from the man speaking to her.

“I do hope my brother was a good host in my absence. Mother says his mood has been quite gloomy.”

She laughed loudly, ensuring that the entire room could hear her, knowing that it brought a frown to the skulking Prince keeping eye on their conversation. She reached out and touched Liam’s arm, “Well your brother is a bit of a child, isn’t he? He’s probably still angry that I was able to tame his wild mare.”

His eyes widened in shock. “You rode Jolly?”

“Of course, I did. She was most agreeable, a fine horse indeed.”

He shook his head in amazement. “Incredible. No one has ever ridden her save for Killian himself. That does indeed solve the mystery of his malady. He can be insufferable when he is angry.” He said with a whisper and a laugh.

Emma laughed loudly again, keeping her hand firmly on his forearm, her fingers caressing his skin as she trained her eyes on his. “Indeed.” She agreed and turned toward his brother, watching as he stormed across the room toward the large banquet table.

Liam leaned his face toward her ear. “Do not worry, his bark is worse than his bite.”

Emma flushed, visions of her escapade in the water, feeling his mouth against her neck, his teeth grazing her earlobe. She suddenly felt faint and reached out to steady herself against Liam’s sturdy arm. “I’m sure it is.” She replied in a raspy voice.

“Let us find our seats, I am sure it is almost time for supper.” He said with a smile, ushering her toward the large seat near the table.

~*~

Killian felt the anger rising in his throat the longer he watched Emma parading around the room on his brother’s arm. He didn’t know why he was behaving so irrationally; this woman was marrying his brother. She was never his and one night, one error in judgement on her part would never change that. Liam would be King, Emma would be his Queen, and together they would save Misthaven and Jonesboro. Liam would be the savior once again, and Killian would be the pitiful idiot who sat pining for his brother’s wife.

Emma laughed again from across the room and Killian found himself stomping toward the buffet of fruits on the other side of the room. He could not stand there and watch this charade in front of him.

“Does your town always supply this much fruit for a single evening?” Killian turned to his right as Emma’s handmaiden appeared beside him. Ruby was her name if he remembered correctly.

“We have been blessed with an abundance of a bountiful garden.” He laughed. “Father loves to show that off whenever he is able.” He added with a sarcastic groan.

The woman laughed. “I never had a chance to thank you for valiantly fighting on the road here. I am most certain you saved our dear Emma’s life.”

Killian glanced over as Emma and her brother continued talking at the table. “She seemed capable of handling her own. All I did was deliver her to the carriage.”

“Emma is an accomplished fighter, though she has not been allowed to use her skills in public. It’s not proper for a lady of her stature to be seen sparring with men.”

He narrowed his eyes, “But she does…spar?”

“Oh yes, she’s been known to meet the knights in the garden at night to practice her skills. Emma has never wanted to be left needing to rely on others to protect her. It’s important to her that she can protect her people and herself.”

“I’m sure her father just loves that.”

Ruby snorted loudly once the words left his mouth and Killian took advantage of the attention it brought with the crowd turning in their direction. His hand found its way to her back, guiding her toward the table as he glanced in Emma’s direction, her cheeks reddening, her eyes locked on the scene in front of her. Killian’s smirk grew on one side of his face. Perhaps his conversation could be both pleasing and advantageous for him.

“King David loves his daughter, don’t misunderstand me, but I do wish that he would consider her as the worthy and rightful heir to the throne.”

“You think she should be Queen? Doesn’t she have a brother?”

“Yes, Henry is still young, he could no more take over the kingdom than he could find hair to shave on his face.”

“A woman at the head of the throne, it’s unheard of.”

“It’s only unheard of because men refuse to see women as more than objects to be seen yet silent. I can assure you that Emma would be a most noble and courageous Queen to Misthaven.” She paused, horror filling her eyes. “But I fear I have spoken my mind too loudly tonight, courage brought on by too much ale, I fear. Please do not misunderstand my words as anything more than wishful thinking for my dear Princess. We are most grateful to Jonesboro and Prince Liam for the chance to save both of our kingdoms.”

“Do not fear, Lady Lucas,” he said in a whisper against her ear, “I think you will learn that I find many qualities of women worthy of more than just the place that society has put them.”

She giggled and he caught the glare of angry green eyes darting in his direction. Before he could dwell on his victory he felt a sucker punch to the face when Emma leaned over and pressed a kiss to Liam’s cheek, her hand resting on his chest.

The rest of dinner he brooded as Ruby talked softly beside him, he hummed an answer in the negative or the affirmative but did not spend much time listening to what he was responding to. Instead, he was consumed with anger at the game Emma was playing with him. She had no interest in his brother, he was sure of that. She was playing the part because it was what was required of her.

Even before Ruby had told him, he knew that Emma felt she was the rightful heir to her home. He knew that Emma was capable of being more than a trophy for his brother to parade around Jonesboro. There were other ways to win the fight against Regina and her army that did not involve compromising who Emma was. Yet here she was playing the bride to be with a man she had no interest in marrying.

It was preposterous to think, but he knew that there was more to his anger than Emma not standing up for what she wanted for herself. His anger was because she rejected him. It was irrational to think that she could do anything but reject him but having her walk away from him when it was just the two of them, leaving him there in the forest, tortured him nightly.

He could no longer close his eyes at night without seeing her naked body pressed against his in the moonlight. Thrice since that evening he had taken himself in hand, guiding himself to release while he remembered the feel of her breast in his hand, her legs wrapped around his waist, her throbbing center pressing against his stomach. He could do nothing to keep himself from that need, the desire to hold her, an insatiable need to have her.

He had tried at first to distract himself with a maiden from town, but one kiss from the bar wench sent him reeling with anger back to the solitude of his own bed and hand.

But now, lying in his bed, the anger of seeing her with his brother fully tearing him apart from the inside had him unable to sleep and unable to finish the task of satisfying himself. Frustrated with this turn of events he got up from his bed, pacing the room as he mumbled to himself.

He didn’t realize his intent until he had dressed in clothing and headed down the halls toward her room. He knew he shouldn’t be seen near her room; it would be a scandal if anyone were to find them together, alone in a room this late at night, but he needed to see her. He didn’t even know what he intended to ask of her, but he needed to hear the answer anyway, needed to hear it from her own mouth if she was as haunted as he by their night at the lake.

He knew it was not wise, he should go back to his room, but instead he found himself nearing her bed chamber, his back pressed against the wall as the guards made their rounds. He approached her door, pausing for a moment, one last chance to back out, to stop this ridiculous pursuit and retreat to his own room.

~*~

“Are you sure you are alright? You appear unsettled, quite unlike yourself.”

Emma shrugged as she felt Ruby unlace her corset, exhaling once she was able to breathe again. “I’m tired. At least we will be returning home tomorrow.” She sighed.

“Killian will be traveling with us; he was telling me tonight that he plans to join his brother once he has returned us home safely.”

Emma frowned, unsure how she was supposed to spend the trip sitting across from the man who was haunting her dreams. She was pleased with herself when Killian stormed out of the dining hall that evening, seemingly tired of the game he was playing with her by flirting with Ruby. However, knowing that her attention toward his brother had caused him such jealousy also caused something else to stir deep inside of her: desire.

Had he really wanted her so badly that he was brooding over the attention that she was providing to the man she was to marry. He knew that she had no choice but to marry Liam, she had no time for childish needs and wants. She had a duty to her family, her kingdom, her home.

“Emma?” Emma’s snapped her attention back to Ruby. “Did you hear me? I asked if you were alright if I went down to the doctor to gather supplies for our trip home. I want to ensure we have enough ointment for your wound since it is still healing.”

“Um yeah sure, that’s fine, I’m just going to go to bed.”

“Alright, I’m certain you will feel better in the morning.” She smiled and hugged the girl.

“Thanks Ruby, goodnight.”

The girl gathered her clothes scattered through the room and placed them at the trunk near the armoire. They would pack in the morning and return to her home. Ruby closed the door behind her, and Emma sank into her bed, pulling the heavy blankets up her body and tucking them under her chin. She wanted to disappear into the expanse of the bed, forget everything that had happened here and everything that was yet to come.

The creak across the room alerted her that she was not alone in the room. “Ruby? Did you come back already?” She called out into the silence and a shadow emerged from across the room causing her to sit up quickly. “Who’s there?”

The shadow got closer until it came into the light, the cause of all her strife tonight stood in the moonlight, staring at her.

“What are you doing in my room?” She exclaimed, jumping out of her bed, and rushing toward him. “Do you know what would happen if anyone found you in here, with me, like this!” She said anxiously, looking down at her nightgown.

“That night dress is quite scandalous, however I’ve seen you in less, love.”

Anger took over her emotions. “Stop that.” She said at an angry whisper. “Why are you here?”

“I needed to see you, to talk to you, about the other night.”

“I said everything I needed to say. That was a one-time thing. It can never happen again. I’m marrying your brother.”

“Why are you marrying him?” He asked and Emma’s eyes narrowed.

“You know why, it is our duty to protect our kingdom’s. Our union will bring our people together to…”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” He exclaimed, stepping toward her. “You do not wish to marry my brother. You have no other duty but to yourself.”

She laughed. “It’s not that easy and you know it.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” Her heart stilled as he reached for her. “I’m haunted by the memories of your kiss; you plague my every thought and dream.” He took another step toward her, his hand brushing against her shoulder.

“You need to find a way to forget, I’m marrying your brother.”

“But you do not want my brother, do you? For all your theatrics this evening, it is not he who causes your heart to stir, your legs to quiver…” His hand was in her hair and Emma needed him to leave. She could scarcely hear his voice from the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. “Or the desire that pools between them.” She gulped.

“We can’t do this; we must put our people first.” A mischievous smile grew on his lips. “Our Kingdom demands that we do what is necessary to survive.” He bent his head to her neck, sucking at the skin below her ear and she held back the moan that threatened to escape her lips. “You’re being selfish, putting your needs above others.” She groaned and he lifted his head to meet her eyes.

“I’d much rather put your needs first, love.”

“That’s not what I meant.” She admonished him as he stared at her as if she were his last meal.

“I want you.”

She laughed. “You only want me because you’ve had every other woman in your kingdom. I’m a conquest to you, nothing more.”

His mouth pressed against her jaw and Emma could feel the warmth between her legs, the moisture pooling in her center as he continued his way down her jaw. She had never been with a man before, never knew that it could bring about such pleasure in the way that he was giving simply from kissing her.

“This is something more than a conquest, I feel it, I know you do too.”

Her heart was pounding out of her chest. “We can’t…” She protested once more as his mouth met hers and she could resist him no longer. She fell into his arms, allowing him to lift her off her feet, carrying her to the bed as he lay her on top of the pool of blankets, his mouth never leaving hers, his fingers tangled in her hair.

She tilted her hips upward, needing to feel something, anything, some type of friction between them. He groaned against her mouth, the sound of which set her body on fire, her lips bruising his as she fought to stop the burning between her legs. She needed whatever he could give her, wanted it so badly that she could see nothing else but him, the feel of his mouth, the touch of his hand, the cold steel of the hook on his arm that was pressing against her back. “Killian.” She moaned, frustration from needing something she couldn’t describe.

She felt a hardness against her center, happy for the friction it provided to her dripping center, as she rubbed her hips against him, eliciting more sounds from his throat that sent shivers down her spine. His hand was under her chemise, his fingers dancing across her breast, his thumb brushing against her hardening nipple. “Oh…” She sighed before she was alerted to the sound of the door, the heavy wood creaking against the floor.

Killian rolled to his side, sliding onto the floor beside the bed before Ruby was able to fully enter the room. “Back so soon.” Emma said, sitting up and yawning. “I barely made it to the bed.”

“Yes, I gathered everything we need for the trip. Get some sleep.”

“Can you get me water?” She asked suddenly. “I’m parched.”

“Um, sure, one second.” She retreated from the room and Emma tilted over the side of the bed, looking underneath to see Killian lying there.

“Go before she returns.” Emma jumped out of the bed, rushing toward the door.

He was on his feet, rushing ahead of her before he turned back to face her, dragging her into his arms and placing his lips against hers. “There is not a moment that I won’t think of you tonight.”

She smiled against his lips, “Good.” She stated before pushing him out the door and slamming it shut behind him. Ruby returned from the small room to her right and stared at Emma.

“Are you quite alright? Why are you out of bed?”

“I needed to stretch.” She said with a yawn, returning quickly to bed and pulling the covers over her head.

“Don’t you want your water?”

She pulled the blanket down, reaching for the glass. “Of course.” She drank the entire contents that were held in the glass and then fell back against the bed, closing her eyes and pulling the covers back over her. “Good night Ruby.”

“Good Night, My Lady.” She said with apprehension.

Emma’s heart was pounding, her mind was racing, her body was still on fire in all the places he had touched her. He wanted her. Killian Jones wanted her. She knew it was wrong, she should not entertain these thoughts, such wanton desire for a man she could not be with was irresponsible. In the end, she would have to marry his brother.

But as she closed her eyes, soft blue eyes swirling around her, his touch haunting her dreams, he was all she wanted, all she desired. And something told her that he would stop at nothing to have her. A thought which both excited and terrified her to no end. Emma Nolan had a duty to her people, a responsibility to unite two kingdoms to keep them from the brink of war.

But more than anything, she could not ignore the feelings that were threatening to grow for Killian Jones.

She knew if she continued to play this reckless game it would lead her to two paths. And she would eventually have to choose.

She could only have one.

Love or Duty.

[veiledsilver]

Top five moments you've felt like the universe was messing with you.

Oh boy everyone get ready this is a long list. In descending order, from mildly funny looking back on it to "oh god oh shit oh fuck":

5. Catfishing: College Edition

In 6th grade, I decided to apply to colleges early to see how they were like. I was scared that if they knew I was too young, they'd arrest me. So I created a gmail account as my persona, a white 12th grader named Emilie Alexander. Emilie was planning to go into nursing, dating a high school linebacker named Kyle Kenderson, and deathly allergic to bee stings. If she even came near a bee, she would die.

This part was of the utmost importance.

See, I was constantly paranoid that one day, the jig would be up- I might forget that my fake last name was Alexander. Or the college dean might come knocking at my door and tear up my home in his mad search for Emilie. If that happened I would fake her tragic death, presumably caused by one big fucking bee.

I secretly collected my information. What nearby states were the prettiest to visit. Which colleges were the safest and most affordable. How often they held courses that I liked. In my emails with colleges I tried to sound as mature and professional as possible.

Then, one day, a college member asked me what high school I was in, so they could check my records.

My blood froze.

It was time to bring out the bee.

In response to their question, I sent an email that was like this:

"Dear Mr. McLaughlin, I was a proud graduate of- ugh! Ah! Kyaaaa! Uwaa! W-w-what's this... huge goddamn bee doing here?! Eek, pardon my foul language! It's just that, as I told you earlier, being stung by a bee would kill me.... and now it's stung me thrice (three times)!!

What do I do?! I can't die... I've always wanted to attend your beautiful college...

But this is... the end...

Mr. McLaughlin...

*looks at you sadly*

Tell... my mother... I loved her...

*dies*"

He never responded, probably because he was rendered speechless, but I never touched that account again.

My private gmail for fun stuff like tumblr still has "Alexander" as a surname, though.

4. Wild and Authentic

Alright. Alright. So. My art teacher in middle school.

Right off the bat, they endeared themselves to the tumblr art kids- they proudly used they/them pronouns, dyed their hair vibrant colors, deeply encouraged OC creation, and was chill with any art style even if it was anime. Mx. Mason was very cool, except for one thing.

We had complete artistic freedom when it came to their assignments, EXCEPT FOR ONE THING.

Drumroll, please.

Take a deep breath if you must.

Ready?

...

Cats had to have extremely distinct whisker pores.

YES, they believed that modern depictions of cats were too streamlined. Too... idealized. As a cat owner themselves, they were convinced that society's vision of cats did not do their feral feline ancestors justice. In making their faces flawlessly smooth-furred, we were stripping the cat of its true nature.

I found this out the hard way, when I was drawing warrior cats fanart for class (it was of Firestar cuddled in the arms of an orange haired anime catgirl who was his reincarnation in my first ever comic series, Warriors Neko Desu! ♡ Heart Academy Dokidoki).

Mx. Mason came over to look at my magnum opus, and I expected them to have their socks knocked off at my artistic talent. They lifted up my drawing for all to see, and I smugly leaned back in my seat.

Only for them to launch into a passionate lecture about how, in neglecting to draw whisker pores on cats, I was DENYING THIS FICTIONAL CAT OF ITS WILD AUTHENTIC SELF.

My friends absolutely lost it when I told them this story, and there was a period of time when all our discord nicknames were wild and authentic too.

As for Firestar and his counterpart Hoshineko Orenji-chan, I never did give them wild authentic whisker holes, but that's to be expected of a kittypet, I guess.

3. Stan Jungkook Or Whatever

A couple years ago, my family and I flew to Seoul, South Korea, to visit our relatives and teach me more about my heritage. It was very nice! I got to visit shrines and festivals and palaces, and I was in awe that this was what my ancestors had once seen in their daily lives.

Then, when we went to the modern side of Korea, I realized just how much I didn't fit in.

It was clear that I didn't know how to act, or how to speak Korean, and I spent my days fumbling around and getting scammed multiple times by salesmen. But I clowned myself the most... during an interactive event with kpop stars.

They had this experimental event where holograms of the boys would sing onstage and dance in place of the actual idols. Before the show began, girls could stand in booths that scanned their appearances, and holograms of THEM could dance onstage with the hologram boys.

I didn't know this.

When Cousin Ae-cha told me to step inside one of the machines, I thought I'd be hilarious and stand backwards, so it would scan the back of me instead of my front. As I walked out, I saw other girls putting on their best makeup, cutest clothes, and most expensive accessories, and I slowly realized that I was in danger.

But the danger didn't come until halfway through the concert, where the boys looked eagerly off-stage and a holy staircase appeared and all the hologram girls descended from heaven. There were cherry blossoms. There were roses. There was me, among the crowd of beautiful airbrushed girls, walking backwards.

I felt the judgemental gazes of twenty girls and their mothers.

Each boy danced with a girl, who got a cute animated moment with special effects, and sang about how they found a dream girl to have a true love romance with. Finally, all the girls vanished except one, and it was me.

One of the boys didn't dance with any girls, and now he was all alone in the rain, feeling dejected that HE did not find his true love girl to have a dream romance with. Then the rain stopped, the sun came out, and I emerged. Still backwards.

He was thrilled and sang about how my face (that he didn't see) stole his heart, and now everyone in the audience was giggling, and he slowly brought me very close to kiss me... but because I was backwards, his nose was cutely nuzzling my hair.

The audience members- at least the adults- were now laughing their asses off. His lips met the back of my head, and together we vanished into the wind.

I'd say I couldn't show my face there ever again, but I never did show my face, so... hm...

2. Horrid Little Temptress

If I wasn't a minor, I'd need a drink before starting this story. Sadly, I cannot drown my sorrows- and neither should you after you hear this, because it's only fair.

Mrs. Appleby was my Spanish teacher in like, 9th grade. Even the wild and authentic art teacher thought she was insane. Appleby forced kids to brew tea for her and yelled at them when they didn't get it right, and I thought she had a chronic squint until I realised she just did that to mock me and my Asian eye-folds. She forced us to watch Dora the Explorer to "absorb knowledge." Everyone fucking hated Mrs. Appleby.

But the worst thing she ever did... was during the school festival.

See, whenever she's angry, she zooms right into kids' faces to scream at them. Her wrinkled flesh would blot out the goddamn sun and all you see are her bloodshot yellow eyeballs so victims just stayed rooted to the spot like cornered animals or something similar. This is important.

Because when she was sampling her own brownies (read: hoarding them so no one else could eat them), one parent foolishly decided to grab one and she thought it was a student and she grabbed his wrist so hard she could've nearly snapped it and... and... zoomed into his face.

Except she underestimated his height and kissed him by accident, but it was more like her mouth was sucking in his face like a vacuum.

His wife was shrieking like an ape. His kid, my classmate, saw his social life flash before his eyes.

In her defense, she did not mouth to mouth with him on purpose and afterwards she cried in the bathroom and when I foolishly followed her in to comfort her, because I am a teacher's pet through and through, she snatched the paper towels I got for her and wailed that she was a-

A-

HORRID LITTLE TEMPTRESS.

If I had decided to not be kind, I never would've heard that string of fucking words. But I did. And I paid for it dearly. The end.

1. Violence IS The Answer, Sometimes

Thomas, my dearly detested.

Back in sixth grade, I used to have a crush on him because he had the surfer boy look with nicely tanned skin and pale blond hair and the clearest aquamarine eyes I've ever seen. He also liked surfing and swimming. He seemed like the perfect little trophy waifu except for one absolute dealbreaker.

He and his parents were extremely conservative and so, when I told him I liked him, his response was basically "haha no you're a [slur] and would probably eat my dog."

I was horrified and ran away to cry. But then, by the next day, I decided I needed to punish him. Thomas walked in before class started and I was waiting for him with these hands. I kicked him so he doubled over, slammed his face into his chair's seat, and quickly clambered on top of him to SIT ON THE BACK OF HIS HEAD. He started shaking and twitching and trying to pry me off, but eventually he went limp and stopped moving.

I thought he fell asleep, but Mohammed, another classmate who was bullied by Thomas, told me that Thomas might never wake up again (not that he was very sad about this. I didn't know until later, but Thomas said slurs at him too).

While I was sitting on the guy, he'd straight up passed out from the lack of oxygen.

Screaming and crying, I told our homeroom teacher that Thomas suddenly fainted, and she was the type of Caucasian that thought all little Asian kids were sweet and innocent, so it didn't even cross her mind that? It might've been me? Who sat on his head when she walked in?

He was sent home early that day. I had to go to a different school next year because Thomas's mom threatened legal action. The only reason I didn't get punished further was because my rich cousins out-Karen'd her and donated a huge amount of money to the school to keep them quiet.

Anyway, I never did anything that insane ever again, because something like that is enough for a lifetime. My cousins made it clear they would never back me up again. I was sure this whole event would be put behind me, too.

But last fall, during my first day of online learning... who did I see in my zoom meeting... BUT THOMAS! I had my mic and camera off, but the moment he saw my name, his face went pale. His soul would've left his body, but then it would've gone to hell, so it wisely decided to stay inside.

Still, out of shame and embarrassment, I never turned my camera on for the rest of the school year.

[bosspigeon]

a permanent solution to a temporary insanity

Pairing: Mason/m!Detective, with a side of Adam/Nate (implied)

Words:  5257

Summary: Unit Bravo discover the detective has... a lot more tattoos than they would have guessed. Felix is delighted. Mason is intrigued. Nate and Adam are just worried this is going to cause issues with Rebecca, somehow. Tina and Verda become chaotic disasters when they’ve had some alcohol in them.

Takes place at the beginning of Book 2. Title taken from a quote my granddad likes to use whenever he wants me to know he disapproves of my tattoos.

AO3 Link | Ko-Fi <3

"Get your foot off the table, you fucking barbarian!"

Mason can hear the voice of the detective's coworkers from across the bar, but even if he couldn't, Chase's scent is easy enough to track. The muted bite of coffee, the sharpness of pine tempered with clary sage. The cooled sweat of a long day, and, just barely perceptible, the intoxicating undercurrent of his blood.

Mason's awareness narrows down to that stimulus, and he weaves his way through the meager crowd. He is only vaguely cognizant of his unit following behind him, so focused on finding--

He hears a laugh, low and husky, a bit of a scuffle, and he finds the detective sitting at a table with the pathologist, Verda, and the Bobblehe-- Officer Poname.

Chase's back is to him, and he’s sitting in a chair at the end of a table squished into a corner. Verda and Poname are opposite him in a booth against the wall, laughing, while Poname tries in vain to wrestle Chase's scuffed combat boot off the edge of the table. The smell of alcohol is strong between the three of them, but that is not what makes Mason stop dead.

Chase's leather jacket is draped over the back of his chair, and underneath, what Mason always thought was a full turtleneck sweater is actually completely sleeveless. The detective's arms are bare, save for intricate swirls and clusters of ink, mostly black, but with some pops of color here and there. Some of it is flowers, some words, a few bones and animal skulls. Abstract shapes and lines, a few sharp little designs, from shoulder to knuckles on both arms-- and Mason suddenly realizes Chase always seemed to be wearing supple leather palm gloves that matched his jacket, or, when it was colder, cozy wool fingerless gloves so he could still use his phone without trouble. Not tonight, though. Tonight his hands are bare, his arms are bare, and the ribbed shirt he’s wearing is clinging to him and really showing off the stout strength of his torso.

Mason grunts as Felix runs into his back, and time seems to pick back up to normal speed while his companion loudly complains.

Chase's head turns upon hearing the familiar voice, and Mason gathers his wits and offers a smirk and a carefully relaxed wave, sauntering up alongside the man, who raises a glass full of some dark mixed drink to him.

"There’s nothing we can do until we’ve got more information about our case, so I'm off tomorrow-- ask Rebecca," he informs Adam, who is looking disapprovingly between the detective's lax, sprawled posture and the half-empty glass held loosely in one hand, "so I don't want to hear you bitching about what I'm doing."

Adam's mouth pinches, Nate chuckles and tries to stifle it, and Mason coughs out a ragged laugh. But all that is lost to Felix shoving his way bodily around Mason to grab Chase's wrist (thankfully the one without the drink) and shout, "You've got so many tattoos!"

Chase gives Felix a lazy once-over, his brow quirked. "Yeah? And?" He looks a little bemused, as if he can’t quite figure out how this came as such as a surprise to any of them, much less a busybody like Felix. He obviously can’t say it in front of his coworkers, but Mason remembers Chase’s time with Murphy. The hospital gown and the needles and bandages. But even though they could all see in the dark just fine, there was a bit too much going on to really notice more than some smudges of dark ink on his neck and arms.

He thinks their minds might be going to the same place, for a moment, because Chase’s mouth twists from a lazy smile to a grim frown, dark, serious brows scrunching. It’s a slight gesture, barely noticeable, but he jerks his head once, as if to shake off the memories.

They’re both, thankfully, distracted by Felix whirling around to point accusingly at Mason. "Did you know he had this many?"

"If I did, would I tell you?" he sneers. Felix pouts mightily, but then pauses, and smiles. A slow, creeping smile, his eyes narrowed smugly.

"If you did know, you'd have been telling everyone you saw what the detective's got under his clothes any chance you got," he taunts. "So you must not have!"

Nate can't quite stifle his laugh this time, and Mason shoots him a dirty look.

Chase chuckles, low and smoky, and brings the glass to his lips again. “Yeah, I’ve got a lot of tattoos. Almost more than bare skin by this point, I think?” He looks to Verda and Poname as if to confirm, though with an odd little smirk that makes Poname giggle helplessly and Verda roll his eyes.

“Verda would know best,” Poname teases. “How much of Chase have you seen?”

“Enough to know that, yes, the un-inked real estate is scant at best.” He takes a demure sip of his drink while Poname cackles.

“My boss fucking hates it,” Chase snorts into his glass, gesturing vaguely with the free hand he’s rescued from Felix for Unit Bravo to sit. He finally removes his boot from the edge of the table (which makes Poname throw her hands in the air) and uses it to push the chair next to him out, dark eyes flickering up to meet Mason’s for a fraction of a second, stoking a low sort of heat in his belly. He takes the offered seat before Felix can (to some very vocal complaining) and lounges back, angling the chair so he’s able to watch the detective without making it too obvious.

Nate slides into the booth next to Poname, who immediately turns her gaze almost reverently to him, and Adam sits stiffly alongside him, giving the both of them an unreadable look. Felix posts up alongside Verda, smiling with annoying cheerfulness across the table at Chase and Mason.

“If your boss hates them so much, how’d you get the job?” he chirps, still marvelling at all the inked skin on shameless display. It makes Mason feel a bit twitchy, and he swallows down the urge to bare his teeth at his teammate with two very ignorant human witnesses in front of him. He distracts himself by subtly eyeing a splash of color on Chase’s solid shoulder in the form of a wrought-iron lantern with a single guttering candle inside, wreathed in wilted and dying flowers that trails shed petals and leaves down his bicep to mingle with other patterns.

“Mum’s got connections,” Chase drawls, swirling his glass and impressively feigning nonchalance. The ice cubes inside clink softly. “As you all know.”

The quiet that follows is damning, and Chase breaks it by tossing back another gulp of his drink. This close, with his senses full of the detective’s overwhelming… everything, Mason can tell it’s rum and Coke-- rather heavy on the rum.

Nate is the first to speak, offering a politely neutral, “You told us you were given a choice between the police academy or prison.” His tone lacks any judgement, but his brows are furrowed just a bit. Beside him, Adam’s expression is carefully blank. Good for both of them, because even clearly, comfortably tipsy and oddly candid, Chase’s gaze is sharp and analytical, his shoulders just this side of too tight.

“Yeah, well,” he goes on, staring past Nate more than at him, “Rebecca’s influence goes a long way, I learned. So after I graduated from uni-- top of my fuckin’ class, thank you--  I went off on a bit of a wild tear, you know, acquiring cars under mysterious circumstances,” Poname sputters into her drink and laughs, and Chase just gives her a dry look before she regains herself enough for him to continue, “and selling them for scrap, I miraculously didn’t wind up going to straight to prison, thanks to Rebecca pulling some strings and dragging me back here by my ear.” His lip curls faintly, and there’s a flash of something in his expression that seems to drop the temperature in the bar by a few degrees. Felix meets Mason’s eye and visibly shudders.

“That doesn’t really explain the tattoos,” Mason says, offering an easy segue to something… else.

“Sort of does,” Chase says with a shrug, eyes heavy-lidded. “I had a pretty wild childhood up to that point. Got my first stick-and-poke when I was, what? Thirteen? I think the kid who gave it to me is working at the bank now.” He snorts. “My point is, it was the one thing about my life I ever got to control. I had to be perfect, but so long as I did well in my academic pursuits and set myself on exactly the path my mother wanted for me, in my free time I could do whatever the fuck I wanted.” He rolls his shoulders again and knocks back the last of his drink, setting the glass down just a little too hard on the sticky tabletop.

“I drank, I partied, I fucked around. What else do you do when you’re a kid with no parental influence in your life save for a picture on the mantel of an empty house? You go off the fucking wall is what you fuckin’ do. Anything for even a shred of attention. And I still managed to graduate with honors, right? First in my class in secondary school, and in uni. Didn’t matter, did it?” His face goes hard, brows furrowing. “She didn’t bother to congratulate me in person. I got a card on her office stationery that I doubt she even wrote herself. My graduation from uni she didn’t even respond to the invite I sent, but I still stupidly hoped she’d show. She didn’t care until I snapped and she actually had to step in. Take a break from her job and come collect her errant brat.” He scoffs, and it sounds like a gunshot in the sudden silence that follows.

Nate looks like he wants to say something, mouth opening, but Adam touches his wrist and it snaps closed. Even Felix is stunned silent. Verda and Poname just exchange twin looks of familiar distress, but before anyone can say anything, Chase stands up so suddenly his chair shrieks across the floor. Mason, Nate, Adam, and Felix all wince at the sound.

“I’m going to get another drink,” the detective mutters, stalking off into the crowd. Mason looks over his companions, eyebrows raised, decides he doesn’t owe anyone an explanation, and gets up to follow.

Chase is leaning against the bar, asking the bartender for “something stronger than a rum and Coke, holy fuck,” and doesn’t even look up when Mason moves to stand beside him.

“I get moody when I get drunk,” he says by way of greeting.

“So you’re always drunk, then?" Mason drawls. "Not very professional of you, Detective." 

Chase snorts and turns to look at him, but he doesn’t say anything-- just closes his eyes and rubs his hand over the rough fuzz of his shaved head. Mason’s gaze is drawn to his hand, and he spots a ouija planchette inked into one knuckle, a pentacle on the next, then an eye, and a crescent moon. They look old, faded and a bit blown out. When Chase opens his eyes again, the bartender has given him another drink, and from the smell, it’s a highball with a hefty pour of whiskey. He takes his first sip almost gratefully.

“Those the stick-and-pokes you mentioned?” Mason asks.

Chase holds up  his hand. “Hm? Oh, yeah, a couple of ‘em. Not the first ones.” He turns his hand palm-up, and gestures with the glass. “There on the wrist.” Along the inside of his forearm is an intricate dagger with thorns twisted along the blade, but a few centimeters below the point, there is a tiny, blurry skull with a black forked tongue. “Toby Doherty, year 8. We put together a tattoo gun in his dad’s garage by pulling apart his little brother’s RC car. Think we got into more trouble for that than the tattoo.” He huffs out a rough little laugh. “I just think his mum was too nervous to actually shout at me, but I was never allowed back to their house afterwards because I was a bad influence.”

Mason reaches out and takes his hand, pulling it a bit closer so he can study the skull more closely. That’s what he tells himself, anyway, though he doesn’t think he’s fooled, and he doesn’t think the detective would be either. Especially when he rubs his thumb over the raised lines. He can feel Chase’s pulse through his thin skin, blood pumping hot and steady. This close, his pine-and-sage scent is stronger, and it fills Mason’s chest. "It's cute," he says, little more than a breath between them. He leans in, pulls the detective's wrist close to his mouth. He can feel the heat of his skin, almost taste the warmth just beneath, and Chase's breath is soft and quick and deafening in his ears.

“Chase!”

He drops the hand as if burned, and looks away from the detective before he can see how he reacts. Poname is toddling up to them, swaying a bit, and she wiggles her way between them to toss her arms around Chase's middle. He raises his highball in the air to keep her from spilling it, and she giggles.

"Chase, come back, you've got to show them!"

He groans. "Show them what?"

She only giggles louder and starts pulling him back towards the group, using the much steadier detective as a bit of a crutch to keep from stumbling through the milling crowd. When they arrive back at the table, things aren't really more comfortable than when they'd left, but they're not less so either, which Mason supposes is more than they could ask for. He takes up his seat again, but when Chase moves to do the same, Poname keeps hold of his arm.

"Wait, wait, you should be standing up for this," she giggles. Verda doesn't say anything, but he does snicker quietly into his tall glass of something that smells cloyingly of fruit syrup and sweetened vodka.

"Tina, what are you on about?" he sighs indulgently.

"You have to show them King Kitty!"

Mason’s interest is immediately piqued. Felix’s is too, clearly. He sits bolt upright and leans forward with that bright-eyed little imp grin he likes to give his teammates whenever he’s teasing them about… well, anything, really. “King Kitty?” he asks with eyes sparkling.

Chase groans, sets his drink on the table, and pushes Poname away, sending her stumbling into the table while she laughs brightly. “Don’t call it that, Tina. Christ.”

“You have to show them! He’s so good!” she insists, swaying towards him again. He dodges, and damn near skitters around the table to press into Verda’s space, which would have given Poname the means to corner him if she could figure out how to move around Chase’s abandoned chair as well as Mason (side-eyeing her cautiously) without getting tangled or falling over entirely. Verda continues to laugh at their antics, pushing Chase’s hip as it crowds into his space and threatens to make him spill his drink.

“Come on, now, what could it hurt?” he chides playfully, slipping his finger into the belt loop of the detective’s cargo pants and tugging playfully.

“Hey!” Chase barks, shifting away. All that manages to accomplish is tugging down his waistband the slightest bit, exposing the edge of his black underwear and a thin sliver of skin-- inked with designs Mason can’t properly parse, though he can’t help but lean forward a bit for a closer look. “I’ll have both of your asses for harassment, don’t test me!”

“Chase, our precinct is tiny,” Verda hiccups, finally making the decision (though it clearly pains him) to set his drink aside, since it seems Chase is perfectly willing to clamber over him to escape Poname’s grabbing hands, “I’m the HR department. You haven’t got a case here.”

“Show theeeeem,” Poname whines, putting one hand on Mason’s shoulder to steady herself. A low growl rumbles in his chest, but one sharp look from Nate (who is trying very hard not to smile at the scene, while Felix is outright giggling, and Adam simply looks confused and uncomfortable) quiets him. She smells strongly like some sort of bubblegum perfume that tickles the back of his tongue and leaves it feeling itchy and thick.

“I still have to work with them,” Chase protests, but his resolve is visibly wavering, especially with the lack of options to escape.

“We won’t tell anyone!” Felix blurts, leaning across the table. “Promise!”

Mason doesn’t chime in, but it’s a near thing. The last few weeks he’s tested the limits of both Adam and Nate’s patience with his innuendos about the detective, and he even thinks Agent Kingston might be one lewd joke from stabbing him with a fountain pen.

But Chase is weakening, he can tell. Mostly because he can’t seem to figure out how to climb over Verda, and Poname’s hands have found his belt. “Fine! Fuck, fine, you menace!” he exclaims, pushing her off with a surprising amount of gentleness, considering his tone. “Just get off me!”

Poname backs off obediently, but she’s still giggling up a storm, flushed with the effort, her hair a bit mussed. Verda looks entirely unbothered, and he takes up his drink again with a smug smile. Chase returns to his chair but doesn’t sit, and Poname returns to cozying up to Nate and being entirely oblivious to Adam trying very hard not to look annoyed.

Chase takes a deep, bolstering breath, snatches up his drink, and downs about half in one swig. “You’ve all got to swear you won’t breathe a word to Rebecca about this,” he says with grave, if faintly slurred, severity.

“Oh, absolutely,” Mason agrees, quickly enough that Felix shoots him another infuriating smirk.

“Scout’s honor!” Felix blurts, nearly bouncing in his seat.

Nate smiles and nods, looking for all the world like he’s simply indulging the shenanigans, but he’s clearly curious himself. Chase isn’t terribly secretive about most things-- he’s actually pretty fucking blunt-- so this has to be… interesting, for him to put up such a fight. Adam looks like he’s bolstering himself to look away as quickly as possible so he can have some plausible deniability should Agent Kingston find out regardless.

Chase’s hands go to his belt, and Mason’s stomach clenches, heat rushing under his skin. The detective unbuckles with practiced ease, flicks the snap open, and tugs the edge of his cargo trousers and briefs (are they briefs? Mason would certainly like to find out) down just a bit. His other hand goes to his fitted shirt, tugging it up.

The hair beneath his navel is thick and dark, and the trail leading down into his trousers is very, very inviting, but Mason’s attention is drawn inexorably to the design inked into the soft, brown skin. He supposes he should have expected the name “King Kitty” to give it away, but he couldn’t have predicted what he was in for.

It’s a snarling black cat, cartoonishly stylized, wearing a jauntily cocked royal crown. Underneath, spanning from hipbone to hipbone, are the words “BOW DOWN” written in bold, jagged script.

“Everyone, meet King Kitty,” Poname proclaims with a sloppy, grand gesture to Chase’s pelvis.

“Yeah, yeah, are you happy now?” Chase groans, hiking his waistband back up and buckling his belt. He tugs his shirt down and flops into the chair, taking another slog of his drink. It’s almost gone already, and he’s sure to be feeling it soon.

“Absolutely tickled,” Verda says primly.

“Oh, completely,” Poname chimes in.

“Wouldn’t mind seeing him again,” Mason rumbles, and Chase’s eyes flick to him for a split second, dark and sparking, brows quirked. Nate sighs audibly.

“Well, are you going to tell the story too?” Verda presses. “Share with the class?”

Chase drops into his chair and kicks his feet up again, and Poname makes a vague sound of protest. This time, at least, a sharp glare shuts her up. “Might as fuckin’ well, right?” he snorts. “So, I had this ex in college--”

Both Verda and Poname make strange noises, and when Mason spares them a glance (still a bit caught up in eyeballing the detective’s lounging about like a lazy cat-- which is oddly appropriate, all things considered) they are both looking somewhere between annoyed and downright angry. Chase actually looks… guilty, for a split second, before he waves it away and continues.

“Anyway. He wasn’t, uh… Very good in bed. But I loved him or some nonsense,” he scoffs and gestures vaguely with his glass, “so I put up with it. Because I couldn’t tell him he hadn’t gotten me off to his face, right? He was a sex god, according to him, always hit the marks,” he takes a sip and snorts a bit into his drink. Verda barks out a sharp, sudden laugh that seems to startle even him.

“He did not say that! Chase, please tell me he didn’t say that to you!” he squeaks out between ragged, uncontrollable laughter.

Poname is collapsing against Nate’s side, consumed by a fit of wheezing giggles.

Chase rubs a hand down his face and huffs out a laugh of his own. “He fucking did and I have to live with the fact that I continued to sleep with him after that, every day for the rest of my life. Point is, after a lot of general university stress, I got tired of faking orgasms to save his ego, and I finally told him he hadn’t gotten me off once since we’d started dating. Crushed him, of course, and we did break up for a bit because of it. And in the interim, I thought it’d be a good idea, to, ah, ensure that the next one wouldn’t be so… lost. I had a bit of liquid courage, lied admirably to my favorite tattoo artist when she asked if I was sober, and King Kitty was born. Then when I inevitably made the bad decision to get back with my ex, the next time we tumbled into bed, I just pointed at the instructions and told him to get to work.”

He finishes off his drink, puts his foot back on the ground with a heavy clunk, and leans his elbows on the table. “Turns out, he worked best when I was a bit mean to him. Apparently it’s a thing he wasn’t aware of. Go figure.”

“Christ, no wonder he only bothers you more when you’re a prick to him,” Verda scoffs with a hearty roll of his eyes. “You’ve trained it into him!”

"That is… quite the tale," Nate offers magnanimously, eyebrows threatening to make a break for his hairline. He looks to Adam, who is looking away and trying very hard to pretend he wasn't listening at all. Mason gets the idea he knows well enough that if he opens his mouth, what comes out is likely to piss off their dear detective.

Felix about falls over cackling, which is a fine distraction for Mason to lean in close, snagging Chase's attention and murmuring, "Wouldn't mind you bossing me around a bit," with a sly little smirk.

The look Chase gives him is dry as a fucking desert, but his eyes are crinkled at the corners. "You have proved on multiple occasions that you absolutely do mind," he fires back.

And that's what delights him about the detective, he thinks. He's sharp-tongued, and he doesn't try to dull it. Prickly, but clever, unafraid to say what's on his mind. And he's never once rebuffed Mason's advances outright, just… Spiked them back with sly smirks and raised eyebrows. Challenging, a sort of unspoken, "Oh, so you think you can handle me?"

Mason would very, very much like to handle him.

"Well, I think I'd be a lot more willing to follow orders if less clothes were involved," he slyly remarks, and Chase's dark eyes brighten just a bit.

“You have to earn that privilege, pretty boy," he murmurs, lips curling on one side.

Mason is a breath away from leaning closer, when Verda's phone goes off and he stands up, startled, and bumps the table. Mason has to snap one hand out to grab Chase's empty glass before it goes careening to the floor. Poname looks a bit astounded by his (far too fast) reflexes, but she's also more than a bit foggy with liquor and likely to forget quickly.

"Shit, sorry," Verda offers sluggishly, blinking a bit behind his smart browline spectacles. "That's Eric," he explains, grabbing his coat. He's steadier than Poname, but not by much, and he leans heavily on Chase's chair when he bends to press a kiss to his bristly scalp. "Come on, you reprobate. Time to get you home." Chase grumbles and halfheartedly swats at him, a bit of red creeping up to his ears from beneath his high collar. “You too, Tina!” Verda calls, “Leave the poor man alone, would you?"

Poname, who was beginning to list against a somewhat bemused Nate's shoulder, sits bolt upright and blinks, then pouts a bit. "Hm? Oh… okay." She pushes unsteadily to her feet, helped in no small part by a few gentle nudges from Nate, and she turns to give him a giggle and a wiggly-fingered wave before Verda’s put-upon sigh spurs her to totter towards him. Adam watches her go, making a face he likely thinks is impassive, but Mason knows well enough the tense pucker between his eyebrows and the grim tightness around his mouth.

“Remember what I said,” Chase offers, heaving to his feet with a low groan that immediately drags Mason’s attention from Adam’s silent simmering, grabbing his jacket from the chair and slinging it over his shoulders. “Not a word to Rebecca about any of this.” He gives Adam a long look in particular. “My options are limited in terms of retaliation, but I can be pretty damned creative. Don’t test me.” His eyes flicker almost instinctively to Mason, and his lips twitch, but he says nothing more before he swaggers with surprising steadiness after his coworkers.

“Bye, Detective!” Felix hollers, waving enthusiastically. Mason winces, but comforts himself with staring unabashedly at the detective’s retreating backside. The second he’s out the door, Felix rounds on Adam with a bright laugh. “Look at you! You managed to be in the same room as the Detective and you didn’t get into a fight!”

“Because he kept his mouth shut the entire time,” Mason snickers. “Looked like it was killing you not to talk shit.”

“I don’t talk shit,” Adam snaps, and Nate helpfully slides out of the booth so he can escape as well. “I just point out when the Detective is being…”

Mason raises his eyebrows, waiting for him to come up with a word that’s not an insult.

“Difficult,” is what Adam settles on, giving Nate a sidelong look.

“Oh, yeah, you wouldn’t know anything about being difficult,” Felix chimes in helpfully. Adam scowls at him and adjusts his jacket. Nate is clearly trying not to laugh and make Adam even more annoyed.

“You’re the one who felt the need to hassle the detective on his off time,” Mason hums not-so-helpfully. “Can’t blame him for being annoyed.”

“And you can’t say anything either,” Felix chirps, “Since you just went right along with it.” He’s grinning, wide and wicked, and he sways into Mason's space and gets shoved for his trouble. He totters dramatically for a second, then pops back up and snickers. "You're not as smooth as you think," he taunts. "I saw your eyes almost pop out of your skull when you saw those tattoos!"

Mason shoves him again, and Nate chuckles. "There were a lot more than I would have guessed."

"And I bet there's a lot more where we couldn't see," Felix adds, sticking his tongue between his teeth and waggling his eyebrows. Mason glances around the bar, the crowd having thinned in the last half hour or so, and decides he can get away with putting the little brat in a headlock.

Nate sighs at them. Adam rolls his eyes skyward, but they let Felix flail and squawk for a bit before Adam barks out, “Enough!” and Mason obediently releases him so he can tug his fancy scarf forcefully back into place and adjust his beanie. “Let’s just go.”

“This was nice, wasn’t it?” Nate offers with a bit of genuine cheer as they file out the door and leave the bar behind. “Getting out? Talking to people?” He nudges Adam when he doesn’t respond, and gets a faint grunt for his trouble. “Seeing the sights?”

Mason lights up the second they’re outside, inhales, and exhales a long plume of smoke, and smirks a bit around the filter. “I enjoyed the sights, at least.”

“I had fun!” Felix chirps, having already moved on from Mason’s rough treatment. “We should spend more time with the detective outside work stuff. He’s cool when he’s not all--” He makes a face, stiff and frowning with a crinkled brow, that looks pretty damned similar to the face he makes when he’s mocking their illustrious leader. Mason almost bites down on the filter of his cigarette to stifle a laugh.

“It was nice to see him unwind a bit,” Nate chuckles. “His friends seem… fun,” his mouth quirks a bit, somewhat uncomfortably, “Friendly.”

Adam makes a disgruntled noise. “Too friendly,” he mutters. Mason is about to lose the fight with himself and start snickering.

Ah, hell, he can’t resist. “I dunno, I think Natey might have a chance with the Bobblehead.” The look Adam gives him could kill a lesser man, but he just gives a lopsided grin in return. Felix, however, loses it to the point he almost falls over in the street.

Nate, ever the diplomat, just chuckles a bit and says, “Officer Poname is lovely, but she’s a bit… young for me, I think.”

 Yeah, about eight-hundred-something years too young, Mason thinks, rolling his eyes. But, unlike Felix, he’s made it a point not to get involved in the love lives of people he’s got to work with. He’s already got his hands full trying to figure out the detective. Though, he supposes, he’s got to work with the detective, too. On a more permanent basis, now, it seems. But Chase is a lot of things-- stubborn, headstrong, blunt and honest-- but he’s not the type to let a bit of fun get in the way of his job, and neither is Mason. The second they stop dancing around each other, Mason will lay it out plain for him, and if he’s not on board with a bit of fun between co-workers, then that’s it. No problems.

He takes another puff of his smoke and lets the others get ahead of him, Felix still chattering happily and Nate fielding it with his usual calm enthusiasm while Adam manages to both sulk and stalk admirably alongside them both. Their voices fade into the background, and he allows himself a private little smirk, thinking about those fierce dark eyes, that stout, compactly muscled body with its bold ink, and privately wonders how much more is hidden under the detective’s clothes, and the best way to see them all.

[silenceofthecookies]

congratulations on 200 followers! i'd like to request chamomile with william vangeance and a female reader, if that's ok?

Hi Anon! Oh boy, William is my favourite character in Black Clover and I am weak for him. That’s probably why this scenario turned out a little longer than expected. The prompt you picked suited him perfectly as well! It’s marked in bold, enjoy~!

It had been so long since you had last seen William. With him being the captain of the Golden Dawn, and you being a traveller, the two of you couldn’t meet up often. You’d stop by the capital every now and again to try and visit him, but more often than not he could only see you for a short while because he was busy, or he was on a mission and you couldn’t even see him. You sent letters back and forth, magic is a very useful tool for that, but it just wasn’t the same as meeting in person.

This time though, a letter had come from another friend of yours; Yami. It was rare for him to send you a letter. He usually let you be and listened to your stories over a good drink when you’d visit him. Unlike William, he usually had lots of time to spare and he often let you stay over in the Black Bull headquarters when you were around. Or if he was busy, he’d make time for you. Not something very responsible, but sometimes you wished William would do that for you.

Yami’s letter was short as always and he was super vague as well. You had to be at the Black Bulls HQ in a month. There was no reason. Just that you needed to arrive there the morning of December 24th. You expected it was a Christmas party that he wanted to invite you to for some reason. Not one to turn down a good party, and you knew parties with the Black Bulls were great, you changed your course to make sure you arrived on time.

Entering the Black Bulls building without knocking, you know nobody ever answered anyway, you looked around the room in search for Yami. It wasn’t hard to find him. He was lying on the couch, asleep, surrounded by a few bottles. What a surprise. You chuckled and walked up behind the couch. Using your magic, you flipped it over so the couch was now lying on Yami instead of the other way around. Trying not to giggle too loud, you saw Yami get up.

“Luck! Magna! You guys are in for it no-… Y/N?” “Hi Yami~” “You did this?” He pointed at the couch next to him. “Yup.” you giggled. Yami sighed, put the couch back on its place and lit a cigarette before speaking again. “Glad you could make it.” “Glad to be here. So, Black Bulls party tonight?” “No, we had that last night. Tonight we’re having another party.” “With who?” “You’ll see. First, come with me.”

Yami refused to tell you what party it was. All you knew is that you were flying towards the capital. Wasn’t William around there? The moment you asked Yami about William, he grinned and you knew you were right. The idea of celebrating Christmas with your two friends warmed your heart.

What happened after though, you didn’t expect. Yami brought you to some kind of beauty parlour. He pushed you in, and a bunch of women flocked you, dragging you with them and prepping you. It took a good while before they were done. They put you in a dress, did your hair, your makeup, your nails,… by the time they were done and you looked in the mirror, you barely believed you were looking at yourself. You almost looked like a noble.

As you left the building, you noticed Yami was sitting in a pub across the street. The moment his eyes landed on you, you could see him whistle through the window and he left the building.

“Looking good, Y/N.” “Thanks Yami but... what is this for? I don’t see you dressing up, and parties with us three are never this formal?” “I never said it would just be the three of us.” You felt your heart sink to your stomach. “Yami... what kind of party is this?” “William’s birthday party. We’re doing something with a bunch of magic knights.” “Then what am I doing here?!” “You’re my present to William.” “...I’m WHAT?!” “Look, before you kill me, hear me out. William never tells anyone what he wants for his birthday. He always accepts gifts he gets politely, but I know he throws most of that crap out anyway. A while ago we were talking about you and he mentioned it had been a while since he had seen you. So, you being there will be my present.” “That’s... oddly sweet of you. Two questions though.” “Shoot.” “Why didn’t you tell me about the party earlier?” “Because I knew you’d freak out the moment I mentioned that there’d be a shitload of strangers.” “Good judgement, fair enough. Second. Why?” You gestured at your face and dress as you asked the second question. “Gifts should be wrapped nicely, right?”

You slapped your forehead and sighed. Yami chuckled and spoke up again.

“Let’s go, we need to be there before him.”

Following Yami, you ended up in a nice-looking tavern. There were a lot of people already waiting inside. Most of them were wearing the Golden Dawn uniform, members of his squad you guessed. Some were also dressed in uniforms form other squads, and you recognised most of them were captains. The moment you and Yami entered, all eyes were on you and a man with black hair in a green cape whistled.

“Who’s that, Yami?” “A friend of Williams. Don't tell him she’s here, it’s a surprise.”

Before the man could reply, Yami dragged you along to one of the rooms that was connected to the tavern hall. After telling you to stay there until he came to get you, Yami left the room, leaving you and your nerves alone.

You had no idea how long you were in there before you heard a commotion from behind the door. William had arrived, and you could feel your heart beat faster. Trying to remain as calm as you could, you waited for any sign from Yami to come out. Not too long after, you heard 3 knocks on the door before it opened. Stepping out of the room, all nerves vanished the moment you saw William. His face changed from his usual composed expression to one of surprise. You were surprised too though, because he was not wearing his mask. You had seen him without it before, but he never took it off in front of others. Composing yourself, you spoke up.

“Hi William, happy birthday.” You smiled. “Y/N...” William got up from his chair and walked up to you, also smiling. “It’s such a pleasant surprise to see you here.” “You’ll have to thank Yami for that.”

Before the conversation could continue, someone else called out to William, clearly excited to give their present. William somewhat begrudgingly tore his eyes away from you to receive his other presents. You stood next to Yami as you watched, waiting for him to be done. Every now and again his eyes would shift towards you and you’d smile at him, which made him smile as well.

A few hours passed like that. After everyone had given William their presents, they pulled him along for some shenanigans. Most of them involved alcohol. You stuck with Yami and drank with him, deciding that now was probably not a good time to disturb William. The man with the black hair who whistled at you earlier sat down at the table with you and Yami.

“So, William’s got himself a girlfriend, huh? How come we’ve never seen you? If I were him, I wouldn’t let a cutie like you out of my sight.” “Oh we’re not-“ “She travels a lot. You know William, he’s too busy with work to keep her from getting bored.” Yami cut you off with a grin. “Tch, that sounds like him.” The man said disapprovingly. “Hey, giant string beam, why don’t we give the lovebirds a chance to slip away?” “Huh? What did you just call me, you stupid meathead?” “Y/N, here’s your chance. We’re going to create an opening, you pull William away and get out of here.” Yami said as he grinned at you. “Wait what?”

Before you could even ask what was going on, Yami and the other man got up and walked towards the group where William was. Once there, they pulled out their weapons and started picking a fight with each other. You had no idea what was going on, but you did know that this was your chance to finally get some time with William. Running over there, you grabbed Williams hand in the commotion and pulled him outside with you. William followed you, unsure of what was going on. Once outside, you ran out of the street, not quite sure where to go yourself. William seemed to have an idea though, and he pulled you through a few streets to a little park. You both stood there catching your breath before William spoke up.

“I’m sorry, did I take too long?” “Oh no! That was Yami’s idea.” “I see… I’ll have to thank him for it later. I’ve been wanting to speak with you all night.” “Really? Well, I guess it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other.” “It has been. How are you, Y/N?”

The two of you walked through the park as the two of you caught up on what happened since you last saw each other.

“You’ve changed” you said. William looked at you in surprise. “I hope not in a bad way?” “Oh no! Definitely in a good way! When I saw you in the midst of all those people without your mask, I guess… I felt kind of proud?” “Proud?” “Yes… you know, you were always so insecure about it, but here you’re showing your beautiful face to everyone.” You smiled and looked over to William, who seemed a little embarrassed. “My beautiful face…? Surely you jest, Y/N.” “Not at all.” He looked at you in surprise, but then smiled. “Thank you for the compliment, Y/N, but I can’t hold a candle to the beauty of you, certainly here in the moonlight.”

Now it was your turn to get a little embarrassed. You looked away with a smile, which made William chuckle.

“I truly am happy to have seen you here tonight, Y/N. For how long will you be staying?” “I haven’t decided yet. I did come all the way out here, I might as well stick around for a while.” “I… would like it if you did. Maybe we could… spend some more time together?” “Aren’t you busy?” “I am but… I don’t want to let my work get in the way of spending the precious time you are here with you. I’ve truly not spent enough time with you over the last few years, and for that I apologise. And I’d like to make up for it.” You smiled after hearing this. “Better get started then, you’ve got a lot to make up for, I’ve spent more time with Yami this year alone than with you over the past… what? 3 years? Maybe 4?” William’s expression turned serious at the mention of Yami. “Y/N, I have to ask you something… Are you and Yami in a relationship?” You blinked a few times before you answered. “No, we’re not. Why?” “In that case, would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow?” “Oh I’d love to! But I don’t see what that has to do with me and Yami being in a relationship or not?” “Because I’d like for it to be a date.” You looked at William in shock. “A…date…?” “Ah, if you don’t feel the same that is fine, and we can just have it be a dinner between friends… but I’ve had feelings for you for a while already, Y/N. I was always nervous about telling you, and I always thought I wasn’t good enough for you… but I don’t want to hide it anymore.” “No! I’d love for it to be a date! I just… I never expected you to feel the same?” “I see we had the same worry… I wish I had found the courage to tell you sooner, now.”

The two of you laughed at the situation and the absurdness of it. Once the laughter died down, you spoke up again.

“Let’s return to the party, it’s your birthday after all.” “Sadly, you’re right. I’d much rather look at you in the moonlight all night, though.”

He held his arm out to you, and you linked your arm with his after rolling your eyes. It was going to be a long night, though the thought of spending tomorrow evening alone with William made it all a bit more bearable.

[pamgkrthwrites]

Flame of Healing | EraserMic x Reader | Chapter 3 - Flame of Grief

Materlist | AO3

Warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, Time skip, ansgt

Word Count: 2003

A/N: This was the hardest chapter to write but this will be the last chapter in the high school setting. The next chapter will be 3 years later from the ending. Also, I hope the Flame part of the story title now is clear. Why I make it green? You’ll see later. c:<

“Hey guys!” Oboro ran into the classroom where they were setting up. 

It was 7am, how this man was able to be that full of energy scared you.

You stood at the door, and people’s eyes glued to you.

“Who is that, Shirakumo?” Asked a student, as the students came close to you.

You saw at the corner of your eye, Hizashi and Shouta staring at you. You sent a chill down your spin. Their gaze felt warm but you can tell Hizashi was sadden looking at you.

Oboro came back over and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. 

“This is my middle school friend, M/N L/N!”

Your two soulmates stares grew wider and intense. Your last name was powerful on them. 

Hizashi ran over and offered you a hand to shake. 

“Hello again, Listener!” He smiled brightly. “Sorry about yesterday, that was very rude of me!”

His sadness was washed away quickly. His brain must have turned that you were related to you in a form of way to have the same last name. 

“My name is Hizashi Yamada! It’s a pleasure to see you again!”

Of course, you already knew his name, but that didn’t matter to you. It was him. He heard your last name, knew you didn’t have a soulmate, so assumed you were related to you. Your plan was working so far.

“It’s no trouble, Y-Yamada.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from blushing though.

You saw Shouta standing up and walking towards you. He looked tired and angry. Did he know you were lying? God, you hoped not. 

He grabbed Oboro’s shoulder with an angry glare into his eyes. 

“Shirakumo, may we talk?” Shouta asked.

You eyed Shouta and looked at Oboro. Oboro told you Shouta was cut off from him, so what’s happening here. 

“No problem, Aizawa!” He smiled goofy like, and the two walked out. 

The two walked to the end of the corridor, where then Shouta pushed Oboro onto the wall.

“That day, when you saw my soulmate’s name.” Shouta started as his eyes turned red and his hair stood up. “You panicked because your friend in there has the same last name. Tell me now, are they related.”

Oboro stared at Aizawa and smiled. That annoyed him. This cloud motherfucker was mocking him!

“Aizawa, M/N isn’t close with her family, and she doesn’t talk about it.” Oboro lied. He didn’t know what story you were telling so he came up with the best one he could fit your narrative. “Even then, it would rude of me to ask my friend if she has any family member who have two soulmates, as she has non herself.”

Shouta thought for a moment and then turned off his quirk, letting go of Oboro.

“So your not… Dating my soulmate, are you?” Shouta asked.

Oboro blushed but pushed Shouta off of him and got himself off the wall. 

“No, but that’s their decision to make if they want to date someone else, not ours.” Oboro answered.

Shouta got mad and was about to push Oboro back onto the wall but Oboro grabbed Shouta’s hand and glared.

“M/N is of the belief that soulmates are forced to love each other.” Oboro glared into Shouta’s eyes. “I believe something different, where we can choose who we love. You and Yamada may have chosen to love each other, but that doesn’t mean your third part wants to as well. I’m sorry, but that’s a reality, where soulmates are no longer being simply romantic, but tare platonic. Whoever she or he is, they will choose. If you expect them to love you right away, your in for some heartbreak, Aizawa.”

Oboro let go of Shouta’s hand and walked back to the classroom. Shouta stood there in shock. 

Could Y/N really not love him?

As he stood there, he started to doubt himself. Maybe he was wrong about soulmates, maybe Oboro was right, maybe Y/N would choose not to be with him and Hizashi. 

His heart fled with dread and sadness. 

He wanted to cry.

---

When Shouta and Oboro left the classroom, you were left alone with Hizashi and the other students of the 1A UA class.

“Are you soulless like, Shirakumo?” one student asked.

“Yes, I am.” You lied.

“Are you only friends with Shirakumo because you are both soulless?” Another asked.

No, it was because he was a true friend to you, but the fact this person asked if the only reason you were friends because of the number of soulmate names.

“Why, would you not be friends with someone based on the number of names on their wrist?” You asked.

The class went silent, and you felt Hizashi’s intense stare. His heartbeat rang loudly in his ears as he watched you speak. 

“4% of the population as no names on their wrists, another 1% have more than two.” You stared at the student who asked you that question. “That means roughly 5% of the population does not have one soulmate. That is 1 out of 20 people. That’s 1 person in your class, in each class. Are you really going to stand there and ask me if I would simply be friends with someone based on the number of names on their wrist? Is that how you plan on saving people? By the number of names on their wrist?”

Everyone’s eyes glued to you. Some full of anger, some full of shock, some full of wonder. 

Sure, you went overboard, but you could feel Hizashi. His eyes through those tinted glasses. 

You felt small in the foreign classroom, surrounded by inspiring heroes who would have soulmates who love them. 

You could feel the judgement eyes from everyone staring at you. Some may have agreed sure, but the judgement was there.

You don’t know how long everyone stared at you, but it stopped when the door opened to reveal Oboro.

“Okay! Let’s get back to work!” He smiled.

Everyone back away from you and Oboro walked towards up, resting his hand on your back as he leads you out of the classroom. 

“What the hell did you do, Y/N?” he whispered.

You glared at him for when he used your name and he closed the door to the classroom. 

“I simply said as Heroes they shouldn’t judge people on the number of names on their wrists.” You snap back, in an admittedly rude tone.

Oboro sighed and rubbed the palm of his thumb in the area between his eyebrows. 

“Y/N, you shouldn’t have said that.”

“Why not?” You barked at your friend. “Are you telling me it hasn’t been hard in a class or around people your whole life judging you simply for having no name?”

Shouta, who was out of your eye view, had started to hear you two bickering and started to ears drop. He felt a longingness to you as you spoke, the passion within your voice forcing him to listen. 

Shouta didn’t understand why he felt this way for you.  You weren’t his soulmate. 

But, your words touched him. He remembers when he was younger and people mocked him for having two names. He accepted his love would never be returned and that he would be pushed to the side like everyone said he would. But then he met Hizashi, and his world changed. Hizashi had so much love to give. He would probably love the whole world if he didn’t have a name. 

“Not everyone is like that, y’know? You’re not like that.”

What the hell was he saying? You two both didn’t have names so of course, she wouldn’t be like that.

This was so confusing to Shouta, why would he be obsessed with what you were saying. 

“Oboro, we both know why I am this way. I want to remove myself from the idea of soulmates… I don’t think it is something we should force upon people.”

Shouto cringed at you calling Shirakumo by his first name. How close were you two? It made his heartache and darken.

“Oboro, why don’t we just… date each other?”

Why did the world feel so big?

Why did the world feel so dark?

Why did the world feel so empty when Shouta where you say that?

Why did he care?

Why did he feel numb?

There was a silence, which even Shouta couldn’t explain. It was like Shirakumo was also in shock from your word.

Shirakumo took a breath in a took a step away from you.

“I’m sorry, L/N.” He said, breaking your heart. “I know I have said to you, choose your own path regarding the names, but… I said that for you, because I don’t see the point in a relationship.”

You felt stupid.

Did you chase after a relationship that couldn’t happen because you didn’t see your soulmates loving you? Did you chase the love that couldn’t happen because you didn’t want it to?

Shouta was confused with Shirakumo responds, he thought you two were dating. 

You breathed out, putting on a fake smile. 

Your friendship with Oboro was going to be over after this, and you knew it.

He studied with your soulmates, trained with them, and had to sit there knowing their missing piece. 

This was your fault.

“I’m sorry, Shirakumo.”

You slowly started to walk away, and Oboro watched you. 

That would sadly be the last time you two saw each other officially.

---

After that day, you two would see each other walking home from school, but besides that, you wouldn’t see each other. 

The school year ended and a new one started. Your second year in high school and your second last year in school. 

You were walking home from school like every other day. The sky was cloudy and dark. 

You saw someone though, someone you never expected to see. 

Shouta Aizawa was standing in your way, looking down the street Oboro would walk down.

You didn’t see his eyes, but he was in his hero uniform and was covered in dirt, dust, bruises and cuts.

“Your in Shirakumo class, right?” You asked softly to him as you stepped closer to him.

He turned his head slowly, revealing to you he was crying.

Was it from the pain he was in?

“Do you need any help? I know your in the hero course and you look badly hurt. Are you here to see Shirakumo?”

When you said your old friend’s name, he stiffened. 

You stood there, letting him breathe. He was hurt, you could feel it from where you stood. 

“... Oboro and I became friends this year, you know?” He said softly.

“Really? Last year he talked about wanting to befriend you.” You smiled softly. “He must be really happy!”

You didn’t want to get too close to him in fear of your soulmate bond, but you couldn’t stand there and avoid a person in pain.

“... We were both interning at the same place-” He started to chock on his tears. He turned his head and sobbed. His knees gave him and he fell to the ground crying.

You rushed over, dropping your bag and putting your hand on his back and you kneeled down next to him. You activated your work and started healing him straight away.

“It’s okay, your okay. You need to breathe. You are having a panic attack. I need you to take deep breaths.”

He slowed down his breathing and did what you said. A minute had passed and he had calmed down. Tears still poured from his eyes but his cuts and bruises were no longer there.

“He is dead.” He breathed out.

You almost didn’t hear him. “Who is dead?”

“Oboro… He died trying to save people… He was hit at the back on his head…”

Your heart dropped.

And your hair turned into a green fire, which radiated your regeneration quirk. 

Shouta looked up at you, seeing your eyes flood with tears. 

You couldn’t heal the dead, nor someone who wasn’t there.

[nineteenninety-six]

Cheater Cheater

So, @stassiebabyy​ asked for angst but this was pretty much the best I could do BUT I was thinking about writing a 2nd part where she goes to London and meets Alfie and gets married and stuff and then she meets Tommy again with Alfie. Opinions?

This thing is only appearing in one tag and I really cba to continue on deleting and reposting but we’ll see in the morning 

Also thanks for 400 followers and I also reached 400 notes on my first imagine I posted on here so thank you soooo much <3

This is probably the only imagine I’m posting this week since I’m filming for the rest of the week so I’ll be too tired to do anything but requests are still open so request away :)

WORD COUNT: 1113

[PART TWO]

Something was wrong but (Y/N) couldn’t put her finger on it. Tommy was acting odd but she didn’t know what was considered normal for him after he returned from the war but even so she knew the way that Tommy was acting recently was off even for him. She knew he was still struggling to adapt after the war and with the introduction of Campbell in their lives, he became even more stressed out and short-tempered but to her, it seemed like Tommy was hiding something from her.

He barely interacted with her, no kisses hello or goodbye and they haven’t even slept in the same bed in a couple of weeks. Tommy rarely slept but he once told her that he found peace when he laid next to her whilst she slept but he hadn’t even been doing that. Plus the odd disappearing acts, (Y/N) didn’t know what to make of it.

The first thought that came to her was that he was cheating but she quickly dismissed that thought out of her mind, thinking he would never do that. He had told her of the number of times he had either saw or found out about his father cheating on his mouth and vowed he would never do the same to her.

They had started dating just before the war had started but they powered through the 4 years of hell and adjusted to the time after that but (Y/N) was determined to save their relationship, she was in love with Tommy and she didn’t want to leave him.

(Y/N) was on her way to Watery Lane to have lunch with Polly. The woman was like an aunt to her as well and she had been confessing her doubts to the woman who had reassured her.

(Y/N) stepped into the house before shrugging off her coat and taking a seat opposite the woman who had just placed a fresh hot cup of tea on the table for her, “Thanks, Pol. How you doing?”

“I’m fine, those blasted nephews of mine are giving me a headache but what else is new.” The older woman grouched causing (Y/N) to laugh.

“Nothing new then?” (Y/N) laughed causing Polly to smile.

“How’re your ribs doing?”

(Y/N) had been jumped a few weeks ago and was beaten pretty much black and blue, she thought she recognised a few of the attackers as members of the police force but she couldn’t be certain for sure. Tommy, Arthur and John had gone around causing havoc looking for the people who had done this but they couldn’t find them.

“They’re good now, it no longer hurts and the bruises are fading.” (Y/N) gently ran a hand over her side, remembering how she couldn’t breathe without pain and was on bedrest not so long ago.

(Y/N) spent the rest of the day with Polly, enjoying her time with the woman before she retreated to an empty home. Tommy hadn’t been home recently so (Y/N) was left alone.

A couple of months later, (Y/N) was back in the living room of the house in Watery Lane but this time she was with Ada and baby Karl. They had been in hiding since Freddie had gotten arrested but she and Polly had convinced her to come out to get some proper food.

(Y/N) was cooing over Karl who was in her arms and was chatting with Ada when Polly and Tommy suddenly stormed in, arguing in hushed voices before they stopped when they spotted her.

“You tell her Thomas or I will.” Polly threatened.

(Y/N) passed Ada her son and stood up, walking over to Polly and Tommy.

“What are you two talking about?”

“Thomas, tell her.” Polly bit out

“Polly stop.” Tommy growled

“What are you not telling me?” (Y/N) asked, frowning.

Tommy and Polly shared a look before Polly suddenly turned to her,

“Tommy cheated on you!”

(Y/N) gaped at her before turning to Tommy,

“W-what? Is that true?”

Tommy sighed and clenched his jaw before speaking,

“Yes.”

(Y/N) let out a cry, “With who?”

“Grace. The barmaid.”

“You bastard!” (Y/N) stormed over to him and slapped him across his face, “I’ve been sitting at home staying at home all night waiting for you to get home and you were just out there cheating on me with the fucking barmaid.”

Tommy took her hand into his and held on hard so that she couldn’t rip her hand away, “I’m sorry, it was a lapse in judgement and I’ll never do it again.”

“You’re sorry? Oh, I guess that makes everything better then! You’re ridiculous!”

“Please, (Y/N). We can forget about this and move away and move on.”

“Thomas, tell her everything.” Polly cut in, her eyes burning.

“What else have you done Tommy?”

Tommy paused and bit his lip and Polly took advantage it,

“Grace, the barmaid has been spying on Tommy and the business for Campbell and she told him that you had valuable documents so he sent the men that ambushed you.”

(Y/N) stared at Polly in shock, unable to believe what she was hearing.

“(Y/N)..” Tommy reached over and tried to take her hand into his.

“Fuck off! I never want to see you again, you bastard!” (Y/N) pushed him away and he tried to reason with her, she slammed her fists against his chest several times.

“Thomas, leave. You’ve caused enough problems.” Ada spoke up then.

Tommy listened and left. (Y/N) collapsed to the floor as soon as the door closed, Polly instantly comforting her.

“Oh Polly, I can’t stay here anymore. I need to leave.” (Y/N) sobbed.

Polly looked pained but she nodded, “Of course. I’ll help you pack.”

Polly helped her up and led her home after a brief goodbye to Ada. After she packed up everything that was important to her, she and Polly walked to the station and she bought herself a ticket to London. Everything had changed only an hour ago and now she was leaving a place she called home to a new city and now she was on a train to somewhere new.

“Good luck darling. I’m sorry this happened to you.” Polly hugged her.

(Y/N) sniffled into her shoulder,

“I’ll miss you, Polly. Ada too.I’ll write to you when I settled.”

The train pulled into the platform causing them to pull apart. With one more hug and goodbye, (Y/N) stepped on to the train and found a seat, as the train slowly left the platform, (Y/N) and Polly exchanged waves.

[ragingbookdragon]

A Fool’s Errand

Outlaws x Tamaranean!Reader Story

A/N: For anyone confused by the “Kiyahnd’r”, I figured I would give the reader a Tamaranean name along with (Y/N). If you want to pronounce it, ‘Kai-yann-der’ is how I pronounce it. Enjoy! -Thorne <3

She stood along the edge of the pool, face turned upwards as she inhaled deeply, the sun shining down on her. She could feel the energy rushing through her veins, and the urge to take flight hummed under her skin. A hand rested along her hip, followed by a flirting voice. “You’re making me all hot when you stand here all gorgeous like that sweetheart.” She let out a puff of air, cracking her eyes open as she looked down to him.

           “Roy, keep your cock in your swim trunks. We are in public.” Roy let out a snort, pressing his face into her bare shoulder.

           “You’re killing me (Y/N). I’m trying to butter you up and you’re shooting me down.” (Y/N) hummed, turning her face back to the sun.

           “And I am trying to soak up solar energy. I think we can both tell which one is more important.” He let out a groan, twisting is head, then pleaded,

           “Jaybird…back me up…tell our beautiful muse that buttering her up is important.” (Y/N) listened to Jason chuckle behind her, then she felt his hand rest along the small of her back.

           “Complimenting you is one of our favorite pastimes doll.” She let out a ‘pfft’, leaning back until she rested against them.

           “You two are such men.” Quiet laughter sounded in her ears and Roy quipped,

           “We’re your men.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes, then a voice called from behind them.

           “Sister!” The trio spun around to see a woman walking towards them; (Y/N) grinned, pulling away from the boys, grinning superiorly at them as she asked,

           “What was that old show? Saved By The Bell?” She glanced at her sister. “Kory!” The two embraced, then (Y/N) pulled away, her hands firmly gripping Kory’s arms. “I did not know you were coming.”

           “Dick called and said Bruce was having a pool party and that I was welcome to come over.” She looked over (Y/N)’s shoulder, seeing Roy and Jason frowning. “I think I made your loves sad.” At this, (Y/N) craned her neck so she could see them; she rolled her eyes and sassed,

           “Quit being big babies.” The two started to gripe and pout, but the sisters paid them no mind, walking off to Dick and Bruce where they stood under the shade; Dick smiled at them as they walked up.

           “Kory, (Y/N). Good to see you both.” They returned his smile, and (Y/N) looked over at Bruce, her hand outstretched to him.

           “Thank you for inviting me to your home Bruce. I appreciate it.” He took her hand, gently squeezing it before replying,

           “You’re always welcome at Wayne Manor (Y/N).” A scoff sounded behind her, and they stared at Roy as he reclined in a chair.

           “Oh, and I’m not?” Bruce pulled his hand away, glaring at him.

           “You shot a hole in the side of my cave, Roy. With a rocket launcher.” He dropped his head back against the pillow, whining,

           “It was an accident! I said I was sorry!” Jason chuckled as he sat in the chair next to him, nudging at his arm.

           “Sorry doesn’t replace millions of dollars’ worth of high-tech equipment and memorabilia.” Roy crossed his arms over his chest, pouting and muttering under his breath, something along the lines of, ‘I said I was sorry. Not my fault the safety was off.’ The group around them laughed, but it fell short as a voice, coming from Bruce’s youngest son Damian, called out,

           “What is that in the sky?!” Immediately, they were on guard as they caught sight of a flash of light, speeding towards them. Kory and (Y/N) stood beside one another, solar energy flaring to life around their hands; (Y/N) glanced back at the group, commanding,

           “Get behind us. Now.” The light dropped against the ground, and the Tamaraneans raised their hands, ready to attack, but when the brightness faded, (Y/N) lowered her hands, voice confused as she questioned, “Tallas?” The man smiled as he walked towards her, arms outstretched in welcome.

           “Kiyahnd’r. It is good to see you again.” (Y/N) stood in shock as he folded her into his arms, pressing her up against his chest; the shouts of indignation from her partners brought her back, and she pushed against his shoulders, holding him at arm’s length.

           “What are you doing here? On earth?” Tallas chuckled, ignoring her words.

           “‘It’s good to see you too Tallas, it’s been so long since we last saw one another. How have you been?’” (Y/N) narrowed her eyes into a glare, letting him go.

           “I am in no mood for games Tallas. What do you want?” He eyed her for a moment before glancing in Kory’s direction.

           “Princess Koriand’r. It’s a pleasure to see you again.” Kory gave him a smile, nodding her head.

           “It’s been a while Tallas. You seem well.” He nodded.

           “I am. I’ve been helping rebuild-” A fuming tone sounded behind them.

           “Does anyone wanna explain who the fuck this is?!” (Y/N) looked back at Roy who was glaring angrily at Tallas, Jason not far behind him, his teal eyes frosty; she let out a sigh, gesturing to the Tamaranean in front of her.

           “Roy, Jason, this Tallas…my husband…Tallas, this is Roy and Jason, my partners.” The surprise that sounded from each party, almost made her laugh. Roy sputtered as Tallas stared at her.

           “So, you followed in Koriand’r’s footsteps and found yourself earthly lovers while your husband sat alone on Tamaran?” (Y/N) rounded on him, voice cold as she spat,

           “Our marriage was nothing more than a political play. Do not stand before me in judgement when we both know you have a mistress on Tamaran also.” Fingers twitched in her palm and she looked over at Jason who was gazing at her; he nodded and murmured,

           “You’re getting angry doll.” She took a breath, releasing it slowly, then turned back to Tallas.

           “What do you want? I thought we agreed no contact unless necessary.” He nodded, crossing his arms.

           “I’m aware…but we needed to talk.”

           “About?” His emerald eyes shifted to Jason and Roy, who were now peering at him.

           “…About personal matters attaining to Tamaran.” (Y/N) matched his stance, crossing her arms.

           “Anything you need to say to me, you can say in front of them.” Tallas took the challenge she sent and dropped his arms, voice nonchalant as he agreed,

           “As you wish. We need to talk about the future of our children.” Silence encompassed the group, then (Y/N) murmured,

           “…Everyone…please excuse Tallas and I…we need to speak in private.”

In The Manor:

           The two stepped inside the study, closing the door behind them; Tallas’s eyes scanned the room and he commented, “Earth is so rustic compared to Tamaran…I don’t understand how you and Koriand’r live here.” (Y/N)’s lip curled in annoyance and she mocked,

           “Perhaps it is because she and I are not pretentious assholes like most of the people on Tamaran, but that is your prerogative.” He smiled at her in amusement.

           “You’ve changed quite a lot since we last saw one another wife. You’re…freer with your words.” (Y/N) raised her eyes to meet his and she spat,

           “Do not call me that.” Tallas took a step towards her.

           “But it’s what you are. My wife. And I your husband. Whether you hate it or not, it is what we are to one another.” She took a deep breath and sighed,

           “…Yes…we are…but I still hate you so do not play coy with me. I will not hesitate to throw you through a window.” (Y/N) rested against Bruce’s desk, tone apathetic as she prodded, “What do you want to talk about?” Tallas sat in one of the chairs, crossing one of his legs over the other.

           “We need to discuss the future of our bloodline Kiyahnd’r. We aren’t getting any younger and Queen Komand’r is politely demanding that we-” (Y/N) cut him off, callous words falling from her lips.

           “I do not have the same acceptance towards Komand’r that Koriand’r does. Tread carefully when mentioning what demands my sister has of me.” He met her gaze and provoked her.

           “Your sister is your queen.” The barb bit into her skin, digging its way under until it burned, and she could hear Jason and Roy’s voices in her head telling her to ignore it, but she couldn’t, firing back,

           “My sister is a backstabbing whore and you can tell her I said that. I do not care what she demands of me.” (Y/N) rose from the desk, making her way to the door. “You can return to Tamaran and tell her what I said.” She’d made it to the door, hand curling around the doorknob, but stopped when she heard,

           “…By Tamaran right, if you were to bring child into this universe, your right to royal rule would be placed above Queen Komand’r’s…you would be the Queen of Tamaran.” Her fingers twitched around the doorknob as she planted her feet in the floor, the words running through her mind. Whispers sounded from the other side of the door and she strained to hear them, grinning as she heard, ‘Ow! That was my foot Jay!’ ‘Well sorry! You’re in the way!’ Something dark in her twisted and she smirked wickedly at the thought of messing with them. (Y/N) turned, face curious as she asked,

           “If I was queen, you’d be king…is that really what you’re trying to get at Tallas? The throne?” He smirked, rising from his seat.

           “Only if you were by my side. I couldn’t rule without you.” The two met in front of each other.

           “Your concubine would not be happy about this.” He shrugged his shoulders.

           “We all make sacrifices.” (Y/N) let out a mirthless laugh.

           “Sacrifices? Is that what you call it?” He nodded. “And I assume I would have to make sacrifices of my own then?”

           “Two earth lovers.” Tallas reached down, taking her hand in his. “Think about it Kiyahnd’r…you and I would rule Tamaran without Komand’r or anyone else in the way. Doesn’t that sound nice?” Before she could respond, the door flung open and the two men piled in, fingers pointing to him.

           “No! Not happening! She’s not leaving to go back to Tamaran with an annoying dickhead like you!” (Y/N) snorted at Roy’s anger, and Jason stepped forward, eyes catching Tallas’s.

           “You wanna take her? You go through us first.” Roy nodded firmly, and (Y/N) pulled her hand away, proclaiming,

           “Relax you two…I am not going anywhere.” Tallas shook his head in confusion.

           “What?” She turned Roy and Jason around, pushing at their backs until they were outside the study.

           “Come along…we are wasting precious daylight.” Tallas sputtered, calling out to her.

           “Kiyahnd’r wait! But our conversation!” She whirled on him, gaze and voice turning bitter as she snarled,

           “Allow me to explain something to you Tallas. As long as I live, Tamaran will never see an heir birthed from me. I will never put a child on a throne that allows for them to be taken and subjugated to fates worse than death.” (Y/N) leveled him with a withering glower. “Leave earth…and do not come here again.” She turned, leaving him in the study, following Jason and Roy.

Hours Later:

           She lay under the covers in her bed, curled up into a ball, the blinds shut, keeping the dark inside her room. She could hear her door open, and their footsteps come her way before each side of the bed sank around her, telling her that they were laying next to her. A hand rested along her back, rubbing the blanket. “Sweetheart? You okay under there?” (Y/N) didn’t respond, but she knew Roy was looking at Jason for his help; Jason’s hand wormed under the covers until it found her hand, his fingertips gently caressing her skin.

           “Doll? Do you wanna talk about what happened?” A moment passed by, then she whispered,

           “…No…I do not…” His fingers twitched against her hand and he asked,

           “Do you want to be alone for a while?” (Y/N) shook her head.

           “No…lay with me.”

           “We would sweetheart, but you’ve got the covers in a death grip.” She grinned halfheartedly, letting go of her grip on the blankets, allowing them to slip under with her. They pressed up against her, arms winding around her, almost as if trying to shield her from the outside world. Jason buried his face in her hair as Roy rested his chin along her head. They listened to each other’s breathing, then Roy quipped, “…Imagine finding out that one of your partners is married.” (Y/N) huffed, and Jason raised his head from her hair, glaring at him.

           “Dude…she said no.” Roy rolled his eyes, glancing down at her.

           “How come you didn’t tell us (Y/N)?” She paused, taking a breath.

           “…It was not important…Kory and I both married on Tamaran, but they were simply political maneuvers. There was no love between us and our husbands…just business.”

           “Is that the reason you don’t want kids with him? Because you don’t love him?” (Y/N) shook her head at Jason’s questions.

           “No…I could never imagine brining a child into this world knowing that it is possible for the royal family to betray them as I was…I would rather die than do so.” Roy and Jason looked at each other for a moment, but before Jason could comfort her, Roy offered,

           “Well, having kids is a fool’s errand.” He gazed down at her, dopey smile on his face as he murmured, “Lets just get a bunch of dogs and cats instead. Maybe one of those famous Inthars from Tamaran we keep hearing about, eh (Y/N)?” He ignored Jason’s exasperated jab of, ‘Oh my god, you’re gonna make it worse.’, watching her reaction; (Y/N) huffed a laugh, smile spreading across her lips as she said,

           “That sounds like a good plan Roy…one I like very much.” Roy grinned, sticking his tongue out at Jason.

           “Ha. Now who made it worse.” Jason rolled his eyes, reaching over to pinch him, but stopped as (Y/N) rolled onto her back. They gazed her, hearts squeezing as they watched her blink back tears; she sucked in a breath, reaching up to wipe away the warmth in her eyes before grasping their hands in hers, fingers twining together.

           “That sounds like a good plan.” Roy and Jason pressed their lips to the sides of her head, comforting her. “There is just one problem with it.” They pulled away, sharing a concerned look before she added, “Inthars are ceremonial animals whose testicles have been boiled for gifting.”

[queenjunoking]

The Stalker pt 3

CW: Noncon - Kidnapping - Stalking, Voyeurism

“What’s it say?” Alice asked Caldwell as she sat at the table and ate dinner. She was enjoying the hot chocolate recipe that Scout had sent earlier. A recipe made by Melody herself. It made her feel giddy.

Caldwell read over the note a second time. He wanted to sigh, but it wouldn’t be proper to do so in front of Alice. Today had been quite nice, Alice had been in a good mood the entire day. She was up and about by herself. They had been rare the last few weeks.

This would certainly tank that mood.

“Miss Scout has recorded a confrontation between Melody and a man named Brad. He was being… well a douchebag.” Caldwell didn’t see a reason to mince words. He knew what would be happening and it was best to just be honest about things like this.

“Howso?” She asked. Caldwell could feel her mood suddenly swing from happy to cold.

“Scout said he was badgering her about not contacting him after a date. Apparently her friends set her up with him and by the sounds of it Melody was less than impressed. He refused to leave when asked and Scout ended up stepping in between them to de-escalate things.” He could feel the room dropping in temperature the more he talked. “Scout said she had a file made up in case you were interested.”

Caldwell didn’t even get to finish his sentence before Alice was typing away on her phone, probably authorizing whatever payments Scout wanted for the information. After a few minutes she placed her phone down and took another sip of her hot chocolate. She no longer looked like she was enjoying it. Caldwell knew better than to speak unasked when she was in this kind of mood, so he just stood in silence as she waited for a reply.

Eventually her phone made a noise and she rushed to check her phone. She was reading something intently, it was probably the file Scout had referenced.

“Brad Gatlin. Nephew of Damon Gatlin.” It took a moment before she could remember who that was. Brad sounded a lot like him. Damon was some rich hedge fund manager turned Society member. He like to act like he was a big shot, but he wasn’t that far up the ladder. “What matters is Damon is a first generation Society member and Brad’s branch of the family is not part of the Society. Damon has also not paid to place Brad on the list of people we cannot take.”

“Would you like me to contact the usual team?” Caldwell knew what Alice would want. This wasn’t the first time it had happened.

“We still have an open chamber, correct?” The look Alice gave him unsettled him. She could be a very pleasant person. But even she had her moods.

“Yes, Miss Alice. There is one chamber open right now.”

“Then yes.” Alice finished her cup of lukewarm hot chocolate before getting up. “Let them know they’ll get paid double if he’s here tonight.”

{&}

“Where is he? I demand you hand him over!”

Scout rolled her eyes as Damon continued to yell at her. She wasn’t sure who blabbed and told Damon that she was meeting this team at this warehouse, but she’d make them pay.

It had been an uninteresting capture. Just a drunk guy getting pulled into a van and knocked out. She was here to make sure the transfer to Alice went smoothly. Luckily Brad was already hidden away in here before Damon showed up. She had sent a text to Alice, letting her know he had shown up. She hated having to do things like that, bringing up problems or needing assistance meant she might lose some of her pay.

“Mister Gatlin, your nephew is a legitimate capture. You were made aware that, if you want a family member protected, you need to pay to have them put on the list of people the Society won’t capture.” Her patience for idiots like this was always thin and conversations like this just made it thinner.

“Then let me buy him back.”

“Our rules don’t allow you to own a family member. Even if I was the one who now owned him, you couldn’t buy him for me. Get over it.” She turned to walk away, but stopped when she heard a click.

She turned around and saw a gun pointed at her. “Then how about you just let him go?”

Scout sighed. “Mister Gatlin, we can’t let him go. He’s already been captured.”

“The way I see it, if you’re all dead then he’s no longer captured.” Scout could see his hand shaking. He was hesitating.

Scout just sighed again. “I figured you’d be aware an intent to capture was stated to the appropriate people. They know who the team is and who they’re taking. If you kill us you’ll be the first suspect.”

“Shut up!” He yelled at her, waving the gun around.

“Didn’t you buy the woman who was originally supposed to get your job? I would have thought you’d know how this works.” Scout decided to just keep poking at him.

“What would some low rank like you even know? I bet you can’t even afford a slave!”

She was about to make a retort, but she heard a gunshot ring out. But it wasn’t from Damon’s gun. She watched his gun fall to the floor as he yelled and cradled his arm.

A woman walked out of the shadows. She had black hair, blue eyes and was dressed in leather. Scout recognized her instantly and regretted asking for help.

Freya Eberhard. The next in line to be the head of one of the twelve most powerful families in the Society.

And one of Alice’s suitors.

“Damon Gatlin, trying to threaten a fellow member with a weapon is a crime. Your nephew is the property of Alice Barlow now. Because of your decision to break Society rules by trying to stop a legitimate sale and threatening a member, you’ll be taken to one of our prisons to await judgement.” Two men appeared from behind Freya and walked towards Damon. Scout sighed and sat down on a crate. She hated when the enforcers got involved with anything.

Damon didn’t say anything as he was dragged out, but Scout could see the hate he had in his eyes. His judgement would be swift. People like Damon, people who had jobs and lives largely in the normal world, couldn’t vanish for long. Either he’d be let go with a warming and heavily watched or he’d have a drastic punishment. More than likely he wouldn’t get much of a punishment. Scout wasn’t anyone of importance and making Damon disappear was more trouble than it was worth.

Once he was gone, Freya approached Scout. Though, Scout really wasn’t in the mood to deal with her. “Still doing things for Alice, Scout?”

Scout stood up straight and crossed her arms. “As are you.”

“I’m getting paid for it. You are not.” Freya towered over Scout, but if she was easily intimidated she would never have succeeded in this line of work.

“And I don’t like you working for her. You’re just encouraging her. Why not just do what you normally do and stop stalking people for Alice?” She knew Freya was upset with her, she just didn't care.

“The enforcers declared hunting suspended in my favorite cities so I now have to wait for you to lift it.”

Freya exhaled hard through her nose. “Can’t just take a break until they reopen?” A few cracks started to appear in Freya’s cool exterior as she was getting annoyed. “What’s it going to cost me to get you to stop taking work from Alice.”

“Honestly?” Scout hopped off the crate and started to walk away. “I’m not going to accept your money. I’m having fun, plus knowing that you’re upset I’m working for her is a reward in and of itself.”

Scout stopped walking away when two more men walked in, different ones from before. They stood by Freya, awaiting orders.

“About time you showed up. Find Bradly and transport him to Alice Barlow’s estate. I’ll be meeting you there.” Freya turned to leave, but Scout cut her off.

“Excuse me? That’s my job.”

“No. It was the requisition team’s job. And they were compromised and giving away information. Therefore the enforcers will be talking over and transporting the slave to their owner. The appropriate payments will still go to you, I just want to make sure there aren’t anymore incidents. We’ll be looking into the team you hired to figure out how Damon knew the team was waiting here.”

Scout stood to the side, annoyed. This wasn’t a fight she could win, but she didn’t have to help them. It took them fifteen minutes to find where the team had stashed Brad. He had already been nailed into a crate hiding behind some others. She watched them reseal it and carry it out of the warehouse.

“Stop making things worse for Alice, Scout. Maybe her obsession with that chaff will go away eventually if people like you stop feeding it.” She walked out of the warehouse, leaving Scout to pout.

Freya waited for the signal and began to drive. Each car took a different path to Alice’s mansion. Standard procedure to make sure no one was following them. She spent the trip bracing herself for what would probably be another awkward conversation with Alice.

“I need to stop answering her calls.” She said to herself. A reminder that she never followed. Another Friday night was gone doing her job instead of having a life.

[hitsuackerman]

Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt.8

a/n: so nothing much happens here but in a way im just establishing how reader and her fam interact :)

warnings: this cannot be read solo, filler because author-chan needs a break xD

Links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 9

Masterlist to my other fics: here :)

Overhaul’s waiting list: @jjk-biased​​ @infinite-universe-love​​ @dirtypride​ @blackymomo03​ @azzie​

Inside his car, you were buckled in the front seat as he took the wheel. It felt weird seeing him drive his own vehicle. Though he looked good in it, if you were to be honest.

Your thoughts ran to the precinct. The cab which the chief took was heading that way. Recalling how he held on to his anger and chose to leave with silence was the worst thing that could ever happen. More so for tomorrow. Tadrona Manor was an hour’s drive from the city.

Playing with the zippers on your bag, you began to think of a plan. One that would be so unexpected that even the chief wouldn’t dare think of it as staged. Speaking of plans, you had to check your schedule again. How did he change your meetings and interviews? You had a feeling that the remaining days would be cramped.

When he finally reached the drop-off area, you adjusted your position so you could look at him. His eyes focused on what’s ahead of him.

“Thank you for the ride.”

“Just get down and cleanse yourself.”

Bowing your head, you exited the vehicle and watched as he sped away from the building.

Now inside your unit, you decided to skip the tub and just scrub. Showering with cold waters, you felt energized and much better than before. Shorter than intended to be, you were now wearing a loose shirt and sweatpants. Taking your laptop, you set up work in the living room.

Once everything was good to go, you immediately checked your schedule. Tomorrow was only half of your working hours. The rest of the days were just as expected. With only 30 minutes for lunch, you were bombarded with an adjustment of meetings and interviews. All with barely enough interval times.

Going to your emails, you received a new one from the chief. Opening it, you cursed every single word you knew of. Attached to the email were 4 new cases. Reviewing them, you estimated it would make things with Overhaul a little more tricky. Going back to your schedule, you were thankful that he had the brain to include the necessary meetings already.

Heading to your room, you took 3 cases from your personal files and flopped back to the sofa. If the chief was playing dirty, then you had no choice but to act as well. Dialing a number, all it took was one ring and you were greeted right away.

“What can I do, (N/N)?” The voice over the phone asked.

“I need a favor, Takashi-kun.” You reached for the folders and scanned which of the three were appropriate for him. Deciding on a minor case, you opened the folder and skimmed on the papers. Making sure that he was the right one for the case. “I need you to do a case for me. It’s practically 70% solved at this point.”

“It would be a pleasure, (N/N).” Takashi replied. His voice telling you he was smirking at the request handed to him. “Is the chief overloading you with work?”

“Yeah.” Clicking your tongue, you reached for the next folder. One that revolved around aggravated assault. “I also have one for Nomura. He’s there at home right?”

“He’s listening to the conversation as we speak.”

“Good evening, (Y/N)-chan! I’ll give my damn best~” He was always a cheerful one.

“Is that all?” Takashi asked.

“There’s one more. For Kaien, I need him to gather information on one that involves perjury. It’s a bit complicated but I know he can do it.”

Takashi, Nomura, and Kaien. Those three men were your equivalent of Overhaul’s Eight Precepts of Death. Your father had entrusted them to look after you when you were still a toddler. As you grew up, you managed to build a solid bond with them. They always treated you as a princess and even till now, if it means making you happy, they would gladly assist you.

Of course you preferred not to take advantage of their skills. It was only in times like these where you would reach out to your roots for… assistance. They did, however, follow a set of rules. No killing, no fighting unless absolutely necessary, and that their safety is vital.

“Will you drop it off here at the estate or shall we pick it up?”

“I’ll drop it off tomorrow in the morning.” The butterflies in your tummy did a somersault at the thought of going home. “It has been quite some time after all~”

After saying your goodbye’s, you bagged the 3 files and began working on the new cases assigned to you.

Early the next day, you found yourself parking your car inside the Abegawa Tenchu Kai estate. It wasn’t as big as the Shie Hassaikai’s but it was home. The minute you stepped into the hallway, Takashi, Nomura, and Kaien practically glided on the floor just to greet you. They were wearing yukata, so today must be their day off.

“Where’s my lovely daughter?” You heard his voice coming down the stairs. A toothy grin formed on your face when you saw your father. Opening his arms, you hopped your way into his arms into a loving embrace. “Have you had breakfast?”

“Not yet~ What’s to eat?” You followed him to the dining area.

“Nomura cooked your favorites.” He said as he ruffled your hair. “Takashi took the liberty of buying your favorite fruit as well.”

More than excited to eat Nomura’s food, you practically dove to your seat once you saw the table filled with amazing food prepared just for you. Digging in, you savored the taste and the warmth of your home.

Half way through the meal, you handed the files to their assigned yakuza. Your father simply shook his head at your actions. He didn’t mind that you were using them to your advantage. He thought it amusing that you somehow managed to use your roots as a way of assisting you in your cases.

“How’s work, daughter?” He asked after he sipped his coffee.

“It’s pretty interesting.” You nodded. Trying to suppress the giddy sensation your tummy felt. “I’ve been assigned a case for the Fukuo Kai.”

“The chief’s still using your background as leverage?” Nomura inquired. He never fully trusted that guy the moment you first talked about him.

“Yeah…” You groaned. “I also have to work with the Shie Hassaikai for this one.”

“Shie Hassaikai, huh?” Your father repeated. “Are they treating you well?”

“He is. For the most part. Overhaul is relatively stable when I’m with him.”

“THE Overhaul?” Takashi confirmed.

“Yes. That Overhaul. I have to admit. He is intimidating. Everything you’ve heard about him might just be true.” You felt your cheeks burning at the thought of him. Not wanting them to ask questions, you took your coffee and hid your face. But that was a little too slow on your part.

“You’ve taken an interest in him.” It wasn’t a question but your father could sense things. “Has Gei seen him?”

“Once. He went to my apartment to hand over information. Gei happened to be there as well.”

“I’ve met him once.” He recalled. His index and thumb holding onto his chin. “His loyalty to the yakuza is very strong. He followed the boss as if his life depended on it. Still, he had his mask on. That was a long time ago though. He went by a different name.”

“As much as I’d like to know what his name is…” You put your mug down and began to play with the half eaten bacon. “I think it’s safer if you don’t mention it. For his sake.”

The tenderness in your voice as you spoke about him alarmed your father. There was no hiding it from him. In his eyes, he could see the subtle signs of infatuation. Observing your mannerisms as you talked about the young yakuza boss, you were still unaware that it’s slowly growing. The feelings and future complications should you pursue him.

To say that it worried him was an understatement. He knew what Overhaul was doing. He had, after all, been acquaintances with the former boss. The sudden disappearance was all too timingly when word went out that he took his place.

Still, he trusted you and your judgement. You were one of the top ranking officers and managed to keep your family ties hidden from the media. The way of the yakuza had been molded into you and how you managed to prosper with it only swelled his pride.

With breakfast done and the cases handed over, he was now standing outside your car. Leaning on your door as you strapped yourself in. The engine revved as you were preparing to leave for work. The childish smile on you was something he always strived to protect. Closing your door, he watched as you exited the estate.

Three men walked up to him. Faces filled with uncertainty.

“It’s alright, you three.” Your father assured them. “I do not fully trust him but I can only hope that the person she’s seeing is Chisaki-kun and not Overhaul. Come now. I think we all need to light up some incense.”

Inside the car, you clenched on the steering wheel. The sense of safety gone the minute your precinct was in sight. Looking at the parked cars, you were more than relieved when you saw his car wasn’t in its designated spot. Scanning the area once you stopped your engine, you deemed it safe and basically ran all the way to the entrance.

Now in the protection of your cubicle, you turned your desktop and waited for it to boot. When it did, you scanned your emails and began to count the hours.

4 more hours before you’d be sent home.

9 more hours till you would have to sit face to face with that wretched boss of yours.

Beginning your day’s work, you mentally prepared for what was to come next.

-----

so yeah nothing much really happens here~ do you guys have any questions? feel free to comment and ill gladly answer them :) take care and i hope you guys like this chapter <3

[wherewindysurgeswend]

deep heart’s core: chapter nine

chapter 1

chapter 2  

chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

chapter 7

chapter 8

taglist (please dm, send an ask or leave a comment if you’d like to be added or removed):  @rememberedkisses @veiliza​

It was raining by the time the train pulled into the station in London. Anna laughed a little to herself. She had been told it rained a lot in England, but she hadn’t it expected it to be raining when she arrived. Smiling weakly at Mr. Welch, she picked up her suitcase, put on her hat, and stepped off the train. She scanned the crowd, looking for a sign with her name: her boss had said he was sending a car for her. The station was filled with people holding hand-lettered signs bearing the names of the people they were there to pick up, but as far as she could tell, none of them read “Anna Byrne.” She wondered if they hadn’t gotten her birth name instead, but there was no “Rachel Byrne” either. 

There was, however, a woman in a tweed suit holding a sign that read “Anne Burke.” With a sigh, Anna walked up to the woman. “Are you from the Montreal Daily News?” she asked. The woman nodded. “Are you Miss Burke?” she asked sharply. 

“Yes. Well, no. I’m Anna Byrne, but I think you’ve got my name wrong.” The woman shook her head. “No, I’m here for Miss Anne Burke. If you aren’t her, you’d best move on.”

“No, you see, there is no Anne Burke. I’m Anna Byrne, and I’m the reporter covering the Thornbury case. Isn’t that who you’re here to pick up?” The woman looked exasperated.

“I don’t know what Anne Burke does, I only know I’m here to pick her up.” Anna sighed. Arguing with this woman was like arguing with a brick wall. At this point it would be easier to just take a taxi. She apologized to the woman and headed for the exit. 

Stepping off the train in Paris, Kathleen smiled to herself as she saw her parents exchange a tender glance. She had heard the story dozens of times, about how they had spent their honeymoon in France – a belated honeymoon, a few years after their marriage, because Europe had been war-torn when they had met in the autumn of 1915, and just as bad when they married a year later. Joseph and Florence had spent most of April, 1921 in Paris, leaving four-year-old Kathleen with her grandmother. Kathleen couldn’t really remember, of course, but she had been told that the trip was only supposed to last three weeks, but the boat had been delayed and they had had to stay for four. It was one of those stories that the Lynches liked to bring up at dinner parties, along with the time Kathleen had been sent home from school for arguing with her English teacher and the time Mary had tried to run away from home at age six.  

The Lynches walked into the hotel lobby and Joseph headed for the check-in desk. Florence was close behind him, but Kathleen stayed behind to keep an eye on the younger children. Paul and Mary seemed to be having some kind of argument. James was staring at the chandelier in the hotel lobby as if in a trance. No wonder, Kathleen realized. He had never seen anything quite like it. Pulling her brother by the hand to get him out of the other guests’ way, she took him back to where their other siblings were. 

The first few days of the Lynches’ vacation were fairly uneventful. They visited some tourist attractions, ate at some sidewalk cafés, and slept in hotel beds that were just a little too firm. But on the day, Kathleen arrived in the hotel lobby and was told that someone had called the hotel for her and requested that she call back as soon as possible. 

Almost immediately after the number had been dialed, Kathleen heard a panicked Margaret Kittredge on the other end of the line, speaking far too quickly for Kathleen to understand her. After being asked repeatedly to slow down, Margaret was finally able to explain what the fuss was: “Grandmother’s here.” 

After a pause that was far too long for Kathleen’s taste, Margaret asked, “How quickly can you get over here?” Kathleen looked at her watch. 

“Half an hour if I walk. I’d take a cab or the metro but I don’t have any French cash.”

“I’ll pay for the cab. I’ll be waiting for you outside the hotel. And be sure to dress nicely. Grandmother can be quite… judgemental.”

When Kathleen’s cab pulled up in front of the hotel, Margaret was standing outside, looking more nervous than Kathleen had ever seen her. She was pacing back and forth and kept reaching up to run her finger through her hair, realizing that she couldn’t do that without ruining her perfect finger waves, and lowering her hand again. Kathleen watched her run up to another cab and attempt to pay the driver before realizing that the passenger was a stranger. She suspected Margaret had done this multiple times before, so she stuck her head out the window and called out to her. 

In the elevator on the way to Mrs. Kittredge’s room, Margaret and Larry, who had been waiting inside the lobby, smoking cigarette after cigarette to calm his nerves, tried to give Kathleen as much advice as they possibly could on what to say to their grandmother. “Make sure your handshake is firm,” said Larry.

“But not too firm,” Margaret added, “or she’ll say you aren’t ladylike.”

“Be respectful.”

“But don’t be weak.” “Smile.”

“But don’t grin.”

“Look her in the eye.”

“But don’t stare.”

“Be serious.”

“But don’t be sullen.”

“Be –” but Kathleen never found out what Larry was going to tell her, because the elevator doors opened.

Margaret Sterling Kittredge was nothing if not impressive. At age seventy-five, she still had perfect eyesight and wouldn’t have been caught dead wearing glasses. Her spine was still straight as an arrow. Like her sons and grandchildren, she was on the tall side, and rather thin. She had the Kittredge eyes, but they weren’t dreamy like Margaret’s, mirthful like Larry’s or frank like Margaret’s father’s. They were cold and steely and her gaze was sharp and level. Her silver hair was arranged in a pompadour – the style had gone out of fashion some thirty years ago, but Mrs. Kittredge wore it with such dignity that it didn’t matter. She wore a dark red velvet gown and an impressive diamond brooch and, seated on a chintz armchair with her hands folded in her lap and her legs daintily crossed at the ankle, she looked to Kathleen like a queen surveying her kingdom. 

“So,” said Mrs. Kittredge, “this is the Lynch girl.” It wasn’t a question; it was a declaration. Kathleen felt certain that even if she hadn’t been the Lynch girl, she still would have agreed with Mrs. Kittredge, because contradicting her was out of the question. “Come here,” said Mrs. Kittredge imperiously. Kathleen obeyed. “What was your first name, again?” she asked, not unkindly but not exactly kindly, either. “Kathleen.”

“Now, Kathleen, you understand why it is of utmost importance that you be discreet about this whole… situation.” Kathleen nodded.

“Of course. I had no intention of spreading this around, Mrs. Kittredge. You can count on my discretion.” 

“I’m sure I can. But you understand why I had to come here anyway, don’t you? We can’t have it known that my late son had an illegitimate child – a child born during his marriage to my daughter-in-law, no less.” Kathleen hesitated.

“What – what would the consequences be?”

“Oh, you know. The Kittredges are an old family, Kathleen. Our social standing is precarious, but if we lose it, we lose everything. So it falls to me to make sure we don’t lose it.” 

“Mrs. Kittredge, there’s something I have to tell you.” Mrs. Kittredge stared at Kathleen.

“I’m afraid… I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding.” Kathleen glanced at Larry and Margaret, both of whom seemed to have guessed what she was about to say. Larry looked incredulous but not necessarily unhappy, but if looks could kill, the one Margaret was giving Kathleen could have decimated an army. Nevertheless, Kathleen didn’t back down. “Mrs Kittredge, I’m not your granddaughter. It was all a prank that Larry helped me pull on your son. I hope you’ll accept my apology, because I truly didn’t intend for it to get this out of control. But your son wired you before we could tell him it wasn’t true and, well, here we are. And I hope you won’t blame Larry, because it was all my idea.” 

The silence that followed probably lasted only a few seconds, but it felt like hours. Finally, Mrs. Kittredge opened her mouth, and Kathleen steeled herself for what she assumed would be a lecture. But instead, Mrs. Kittredge did the unexpected: she laughed. Margaret was the first to speak. “Grandmother,” she said incredulously, “do you really think this is funny? You came all the way across the Atlantic for nothing!” 

“Peggy, when you get to be as old as I am, you’ll understand the value of a good joke. And besides, Montreal is unbelievably dull these days. Nothing to do but attend parties held by women I’ve never liked. I might as well be in Paris.”

“But… you hate jokes. I’ve never seen you laugh in my life.”

“There’s always a first time.” she turned to Kathleen. 

“I like you,” she said decisively. Kathleen stared at her. After a pause, Mrs. Kittredge continued.

“You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. It’s not many girls who would go along with something like this to help their friends. You’ll go far, Kathleen Lynch.”

After the required pleasantries, Kathleen started to leave the hotel room, but Mrs. Kittredge called her back. “Would you do an old woman a favour?” she asked. Kathleen was startled by the request. “Of course,” she replied.

“Would you come to dinner with us tonight? I’m afraid my relatives are dreadfully dull at times. I could use the company.” Kathleen, not knowing what else to do, accepted the invitation and headed back to her hotel.

[goldandbluesmiles]

Bloody Courting

Summary: “There are two types of omegas that make it in our world and especially in Gotham. There are the ones like me that wrap Alphas, Betas and even other omegas around their finger, make them dance to their tune. You will not be that omega. You are too brash and forward to it. You will be the omega that goes ahead with the sheer force of will. They will respect you and if they do not, they will fear you,”

Jason had nodded, listening to him with rapt attention.

“And remember, if any of them think they are worth you, make them prove it no matter than their designation. Do not ever settle for less than what you want,”

These days he was really wishing that he hadn’t driven the last point very hard. Because really the dead bodies were getting a bit ridiculous.

Note: This is part 2. You can read part 1 here.

TW: Mention of death, blood and dead bodies. Nothing graphic. It’s Earth 3 so things are a little messed up/

Ao3

xxx

The crime syndicate usually left most of Gotham alone, content with the reports Owlman brought them.

The only time they interfered was when someone stepped out of line and it involved Gotham city.

And Lex Luthor had stepped out of line. The Queens and Waynes were the ones who usually handled Luthor's little shows of rebellion. So Arsenal was sent to Gotham to follow the rumours of Lex bringing supplies there. Usually, Talon would work with him. However, Talon was unavailable so the syndicate was looking to the other Wayne protege to partner up with the alpha.

"I hate it when they interfere with us," said Jason, "I could handle it myself,"

"The investigation was started by the Queens, Kiddo," Bruce told him, "And it could be worse, they could have sent one of the Lanterns or god forbid, the Kryptonians. Their egos are unbearable. Anyway, Roy's a good kid, about Dick's age. Loves murder and mayhem as much as you do. I think you might like him,"

"Hmm," was all Jason said

It was the calm before the storm.

xxx

A week into the investigation, Jason and he were having dinner when the subject of Roy Harper same up.

"I haven't really head from you since the whole situation started. How's it going?"

Jason grinned, "Pretty good. You were right, I do like him,"

Bruce tilted his head. Interesting.

It wasn't that Jason hadn't ever proclaimed to like someone before, platonic or otherwise. It was just that he had never said it like that.

A pretty smile on his face, eyes flitting everywhere and light pink ears.

Interesting.

Either way, Jason was an adult. He could handle his own affairs.

xxx

The bouquet of flowers was beautiful. Red roses, white lilies and pink orchids, all tied together by a black bow.

It was lovely, really.

Except that it was clutched in a severed hand.

An expertly cut and embalmed severed hand.

But it was a severed hand.

It had been a while since a gift like this had ended up on his doorstep but it could only be for one person.

Good thing he was here today.

"Jason!"

Jason came running out and grinned when he saw the bouquet.

"My favourites!"

"Who are they from?" Bruce asked

Jason checked the note attached to the small finger.

Wait-was he-was he blushing?

"They're from Roy,"

Oh yes, definitely blushing.

Roy didn't need favours. Roy wouldn't disregard the Queen/Wayne alliance for a night of fun. Roy had deliberately sent the flowers over to Bruce's place on a night that Jason was there.

Well shit.

xxx

Bruce and Jason had lived together long enough that even apart their heats synchronized. Bruce usually spent it with one of his Alphas and Jason spent it with whoever had given him a nice gift that month.

But this time both Talia or Selina was unavailable so Jason had come over.

Bruce had always loved heats spent with his little pup, inhaling his soothing scent of lemongrass and sweet tea. Right now Jason was cuddled into his side, nuzzling at his neck and letting out small purrs.

So adorable.

"Hey B," he said, bumping his head against his chin

"What is it, baby?" asked Bruce, running a hand through his hair.

"I think Roy wants to court me,"

"Oh?"

"And the syndicate wants to shut down Lex's whole side operation but you already know that,"

He did know that.

"And well, Roy's probably gonna end up staying here for a while since Gotham seems to be the base, Lex probably thought he could hide from Owlman,"

"Jason, point?" asked Bruce

Jason raised his head so Bruce could see his face.

"Roy. Courting. How do you feel about it?"

Oh. Wow. Okay. Jason was actually serious about the older alpha.

"I trust your judgement, kid,"

Jason flashed him his brilliant smile, "Okay!"

Bruce gently rubbed Jason's back as he snuggled down again.

Jason liked bloody gifts and a courting would entail many more of them.

But Bruce had put up with them for this long. He could do it for the duration of the courting.

How bad could it be? It's not like Jason even lived here anymore.

xxx

There was a dead body in his living room.

Bruce recognized the man. He had put a hit on him a few days ago. He would have loved to go after him himself but that's not what was expected of Bruce Wayne and Jason was busy. So, in his brother's and the Talon's absence he ha ordered a hit with a reward.

Usually, anybody who completed the hit would bring proof to an agreed-upon location and then would be given compensation.

This time the body was in his living room. And it was dripping blood.

And Roy Harper was standing over it. Kori right behind him.

"You know if that's for Jason, he's not here and probably wrong...subject,"

"Oh this is for you," said Roy

Oh. Bruce looked from the body to Roy to Kori.

"Sit down, please,"

Roy and Kori took the matching armchairs while Bruce took the love seat.

"I'm going to assume you somehow got access from Dick," said Bruce

"Yes," said Kori

"Explain this to me," he told Roy though he had an idea of where this was going. Some alphas liked to ask permission to court young omegas. Now Jason didn't need anyone's permission to do anything but Bruce could respect Roy's desire to deal with any possible issues.

"Well," said Roy, "As you know, Jason and I have become close while working together and I've been thinking of he was to give us a chance, we would make a good match,"

Bruce waited for the next bit but nothing came. Roy just sat there looking at him expectantly, an impassive look on his face. Kori looked a little like she was bracing for impact.

He took another look at the body, at the alpha in front of him and-

Oh.

Oh.

This Bitch.

This alpha had specifically gone hunting a man Bruce wanted dead.

This alpha had broken into Bruce's home with the body of a man Bruce wanted dead.

This alpha had brought Bruce's future daughter-in-law with him to break into Bruce's house with the body of a man Bruce wanted dead.

Roy wasn't asking permission. Roy was informing Bruce of his intentions.

In Bruce's house. With a dead body. And Bruce's oldest son's fiance.

God Damn. Bruce had to admit he was impressed.

Didn't mean he had to leave the alpha unscathed.

"You know Roy," said Bruce, "This reminds me of the time Talia courted me,"

"Oh?" said Roy, looking mildly surprised

Bruce smiled. Jason had obviously told him that his dad wasn't the mild-mannered omega the public thought he was.

"Well, on one of our dates she took me out on an outing," said Bruce, "You know, a late-night picnic, some stargazing, walking hand in hand in a field-"

Bruce paused and looked up.

"Some murder under the moon,"

The jerk Roy's body gave was positively amazing. Kori was starting to look amused, probably remembering the first time she and Bruce had had a similar conversation.

"At one point Talia sat down and just watched me slash people's throats. Said I looked pretty doing it. Though, I was also very young back then,"

Bruce gave the alpha a winning smile.

"What do you think Roy?" asked Bruce, "Would I still look good killing people with a blade?"

Rou gulped, "I'm sure Talia and Selina definitely think so,"

Bruce gave him a wide grin, one he had been told made him look manic.

"Good answer," he said, "Speaking of Selina, we once after this man that had dared to betray the Owlman. I still used to be a 'field agent' back then, if you know what I mean. Do you want to know what we did to him?"

"Did you kill him?" asked Kori

Oh, she was definitely amused.

"No. I personally consider killing someone as mercy," said Bruce, then looked at Roy, "Let's just say, he can no longer feed himself,"

"Oh," said Roy, starting to look a little green

"Ooh," said Bruce, sitting up as if excited, "This one time all three of us went after this woman who had seen something she wouldn't tell us about so to make an example of her we gouged her eyes out,"

Bruce gave another grin.

"With our fingers. Well," he said, waving his hand around a little, "My fingers,"

Roy nodded quickly

"Either way. We got off-topic. I think Courting is a lovely idea. Thank you for him. Could I interest you in something to drink?"

"No thank you, sir," said Roy, quickly getting up, "We should really be going,"

"Of course I understand," said Bruce, "I'll walk you out,"

Once the two had left, Bruce stayed by the door long enough to hear Roy screeching to Kori about not telling him how scary Bruce was.

Bruce chuckled and dialled a familiar number on his phone.

"Hi, Arrow. It's me. I think I might have traumatized your protege,"

xxx

Jason was in the den room. That itself wasn't an unusual occurrence.

The body packed in a plastic bag was.

At least this one wasn't dripping blood onto his floor.

"Jay, baby, what is that?"

"Oh, a dead body," said Jason, cheeky smile in place

Bruce snorted, "You know what I mean,"

"Roy gave it to me," said Jason, "It has art on it. Wanna see?"

Bruce sighed and went to sit by him, "Why not kiddo. Show me,"

Roy had used a blade to carve an intricate rose design into the skin. The carvings were deeper in some areas and barely there in others. They were also in crying shades of crimson. He would have to let the blood settle in some areas while carving some areas while the body was still fresh.

All in all, it looked like hard work.

"I'm guessing this is one of the people taking part in Lex's little operation,"

"Yup," said Jason, "Roy interrogated him and that did this. Amazing, right?"

Bruce chuckled and shook his head, "I really don't understand your interest in these courting presents,"

Jason just gave him an impish grin.

Bruce sighed gain and mentally braced himself.

This was only the beginning after all.

xxx

There was another dead body in the room.

And Jason was-uh-working on it.

"Jason, sweetheart," said Bruce, "Explain to me what you're doing,"

"Creating a gift for Roy," said Jason, "I mean who said that the alpha's the only one who has to give courting gifts, right?"

"Right," said Bruce, "And why are you doing this here?"

"Roy drops by my place too much, it would be better here. Also, it'll probably take a few days,"

Bruce refrained from asking what exactly the present was supposed to be or mentioning that Jason had numerous safe houses. Instead, he quickly went to his room and dialled two numbers.

"Oh hi Talia, Selina. You both picked up. Great! I need a vacation. Please take some pity on your dear, wonderful omega and take him on vacation. Yes-yes Selina. I am referring to myself in the third person! That is not the point!"

xxx

Vacation had been wonderful, filled with warm beaches, open skies and the two of his smallest pups.

They had dropped off Talia and Damian with the League and Selina and Helena had opted to also be dropped at their place instead of taking Bruce home. Which was great anyway. This way he had time to relax before-

"Uh, what are you doing?"

Jason and Roy instantly looked up from the dead body their hands were buried in.

"Oh, Hi dad," said Jason, I'd give you a hug but-uh,"

Roy had gone very very still.

"That doesn't answer my question," said Bruce

"I thought you were supposed to come home tomorrow," said Jason

"I was," said Bruce, crossing his arms.

Roy carefully took a step back.

"Sorry about this," said Jason, "We'll clean it up,"

"You better," said Bruce, "Also I think Tim is probably available. It's been too long since I've spoken to him. I'll go see him,"

"Yeah," said Jason, "Drake Holdings landed a pretty big deal while you were gone. He'll probably want to tell you about it,"

"Right," said Bruce, going backwards out of the house

Maybe he could stay somewhere else for a while.

xxx

"I mean I like a little blood and death as much as the next person but I like to keep it out of my house. Bloody life outside, inside I'm a normal rich person. These two keep bringing-hey! Are you even listening to me?! Timmy!

"You could just tell him to not bring his 'dead body' presents to your house, or at least the den and nest room,"

'...'

'...'

"How dare you?! I can't do that! It'll break his heart,"

'...'

'...'

"You're a mess, B,"

xxx

"Dad! Dad! look what Roy made me!"

Bruce took a deep breath and brace himself for another dead body in his den.

It-it wasn't a dead body.

It looked like a large snow globe.

Well not a snow globe, since it didn't have snow in it.

The globe was about the size of a human head. It seemed to be a part of Gotham, holding two figures standing over a third. Going by the uniforms, it was Arsenal and Red X, chopping off the head of someone.

"That's a gruesome scene," said Bruce

"It's the first outing we went on," said Jason, "But you haven't seen the best part,"

Jason twisted a key and the two figures started beating the first, there seemed to be an explosion in the background and line of-

"Is that real blood?" asked Bruce incredulously

"Yup, Roy installed a system in the bottom so it doesn't go stale," said Jason, "Amazing isn't it?"

Bruce had to admit, it was impressive.

"You really like him, don't you?" asked Bruce

"Yeah," said Jason, his voice suddenly shy and soft

Bruce smiled and kissed his forehead, "I'm glad. He better not hurt you though, otherwise, I'll be making a globe with his blood,"

Jason's laughter was like magic.

xxx

Jason had been quiet the whole day, mumbling when asked a question, barely speaking up and playing with his food.

It was when he was about to leave that Bruce finally brought it up.

"What's up with you, Jay?"

"Nothing," he muttered, pulling on his shoes

"Jay," said Bruce, gently taking his hand, "Talk to me,"

"The whole Lex thing is over and Roy is going back to Star," said Jason, "And I know we're good but at best we do long-distance and I just don't know if I can take that. I'll miss him,"

"I'm sure it'll be okay, Jay,"

"I'm not like you, dad," huffed Jason, "You don't see Tal and Sel for months at a time. I can't do that,"

Bruce sighed, "Have you talked to Roy about it?"

"We're doing that tonight," said Jason, "Kinda scared of the outcome,"

"It'll be fine," said Bruce, "And if not, you know where to find me,"

"Yeah," said Jason and opened the door. And stopped.

There was a body on their doorstep.

Tied up and obviously dead.

"Who's this," said Bruce, not even surprised at this point

"Traitor," said Jason, kneeling down and picking a note from the bodies' fingers.

"Your favourite stabbing place," read Jason

Bruce was about to ask what the hell was going on but Jason was already taking out a knife and slicing open the inside of the man's right thigh. He reached in and took out a clear plastic bag. Inside it was two keys.

"I'm guessing one's from Star and the other from Gotham,"

Jason smiled, "Yup,"

Bruce shook his head, "While I'm happy that your stress in elevated, couldn't he have sent them in some normal way,"

"You don't get it, dad," said Jason, "I never told Roy my favourite stabbing spot,"

Bruce had nothing to say to that.

xxx

Lex Luthor went quiet for about a year and then came back with an army of robots.

And since the Waynes and Queens had been in charge of subduing him in the first place, they were once again sent in. Since there was an army, everyone had gotten involved.

Bruce had even gotten both of his alphas to join in.

The battle took days but they had succeeded without any casualties on their side.

"Well," said Oliver, "This seems to be- oh you have got to be kidding me!"

Bruce followed the other omega's gaze and found Arsenal kneeling on the bloody ground in front of Red X. Bruce looked back at Oliver to see if he was upset but he only looked amused. Probably thinking the same thing as Bruce.

Why here?

"Well, at least Roy won't be sending me any more pictures of his courting 'presents'"

"Pictures," screeched Bruce, "You're mad at pictures! I had to put up with dead bodies in my house. Dead bodies with art, dead bodies with book quotes, severed hands, cut out hearts- don't even get me started on the intestines! And the blood!"

Oliver grimaced, "At least they seem happy,"

Bruce looked back to where Jason had now jumped into Roy's arms everyone around then cheering and applauding,"

"Yeah," murmured Bruce, "They're happy,"

xxx

The wedding was beautiful, both him and Oliver having pulled out all the stops for their boys. The suits were red instead of the traditional white. The theme set in the colour of the sunset. The wedding party was huge, composed of their siblings and the pack they had accumulated over the year.

Really, Bruce couldn't be prouder.

When it was time for the dance, the grooms first danced together and then their fathers and then their siblings. Eventually, Bruce ended up with Roy as his partner.

The young man grinned at him, "Hey Bruce,"

"Hello, Roy," said Bruce, "How are you feeling?"

"Right now," said Roy, "Kinda glad I can still feed myself,"

"Well, don't get comfortable. That can still be changed,"

Roy laughed as they changed partners again, having moved on from being afraid of Bruce's mere presence.

Later, both Oliver and Bruce were discussing the honeymoon with the newlyweds.

"I still don't know why you didn't let us pay," said Oliver

"Where are you going anyway," asked Bruce, "You never said,"

"Oh, Talia helped us plan it,"

Talia had good taste in vacation spots, maybe she recommended the beach resort at-

"We're taking a job for the League," said Jason, "In Paris. I mean we've mixed both things this long. Why change it?"

Before Bruce could say anything, someone else was pulling the two away for a picture.

"I'm seriously starting to reconsider our parenting of them," muttered Oliver

Bruce sighed and shrugged, "At least they're happy"

Olive smiled, "Yeah. Did I ever tell you how Roy became my protege?"

"You saw his talent, right?"

"Well, yes but there were a lot of alphas that wanted him considering he was one and I was an omega. But he refused to cooperate with anyone. He'd only work with me,"

"Loyalty," said Bruce

"Yup,"

The two omegas spent the rest of the time quietly talking about their perspective boys, laughing at their stories.

So what if the courting had been a little bloody, thought Bruce, their boys were happy. That's all that mattered.

Still, Bruce was glad they now had their own place and pack to show off their bloody presents.

His floor couldn't take much more. And he liked that floor.