#I just hope for better days for us all when the empire finally crumbles | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lubdubsworld · 4 years ago

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The Devil’s Own.

Jungkook x OC

Mafia Au!

Warnings : Non-Con ! Manipulation, Degradation, Shitty hero with no redeeming Qualities you have been warned. ( i mean he does get better but not much.)

Summary : Just Mob Boss Jungkook doing mob boss things.

Chapter 1

“ Sign it. ”

I glared at him, feeling sick at the tone. The entitlement.

“No.” I said sharply and I could feel his anger swelling, morphing into something dangerous and deadly but I couldn’t care anymore. I was tired. Exhausted. This cat and mouse game had gone on , long enough. It wasn’t an even playing field, in any sense of the qword.

If today was the day I died, so be it. I would accept it. I would even welcome it.

I was done.

He had everything : an empire at his beck and call , enough money to pave the streets of Seoul in gold and an army of loyal associates behind him. His face was plastered on Billboards across the country , the President posted pictures of him on his fucking SNS and delegates from other countries had to wait weeks , just to get an appointment with the youngest billionaire South Korea had ever seen.

And yet none of those white collared dignitaries saw this side of him. The dirty, violent ruthless man who had more blood on his hands than anyone else in the country. My father’s. My brothers’.

Jeon Jungkook was both the most revered business man in the country and the undisputed king of Seoul’s criminal underbelly.

“You defiance only makes me want to break you in other ways Elena.” He said warningly and I felt my throat go dry. I stared at him, wondering how someone could look so expensively gorgeous and yet, like a hardened criminal.

The expensive silk shirt, the fitted slacks and the handmade shoes ought to clash with the dark ink that covered his entire arm and neck, the piercing on his eyebrow and the glint of metal on his tongue but it didn’t.

It just all came together to make him the most attractive man in existence.

I took a deep breath. Perhaps begging was the way to go?

“ You have my father’s company. You have my brother’s Hospital and you have the family mansion. It’s all yours. This bakery belongs to my mother. It’s all I have left of her. My sister in law is pregnant , due any day. She needs a place to stay and I don’t… I don’t have money to rent anywhere else.” I said desperately, thinking of the paltry wage I earned waiting tables. I could barely afford food for myself let alone for Jisoo and the baby on the way.

The bakery was abandoned but it had a roof. The furniture was crumbling but I could fix that. If I didn’t have to worry about rent, I could save up enough to make it livable. At least till I got a better job.

“I’ve offered you solutions for all of that.” He reminded me softly, eyes trained unblinkingly on me and I stared at him.

“I’m not going to be your whore.” I felt my voice shake.

He grimaced.

“You aren’t qualified to be my whore. And I don’t need one either. Whores are not my thing. I have a beautiful fiancée, don’t you remember? ” He grinned. I felt my heart ache because that fiancée was once my best friend. The only person I had trusted with my entire life. Lisa had betrayed my trust, had spied on my father’s operations and brought him down and I had the horrible, horrible inkling that she had also had something to do with my father and brother’s untimely death in a car crash.

But I couldn’t think about that. Every time I thought about her my heart broke and head spun, and I had to be at my maximum mental capacity if I was going to deal with her heartless fiancée.

“ If you ask me, you’re not fit for anything more than a back alley blowjob for a couple bucks. But Hoseok thinks you have potential. Join his agency, there are a lot of very wealthy men who have a bone to pick with your father. He made a shit ton of enemies. Most of them would love to fuck the defiance out of you. ”

His words felt like worms crawling all over my skin and I could feel the nausea churn inside me.

“I’m not signing the bakery over. You can call the creditors. I still have another year and half to pay the one remaining loan and they won’t come for me till then.” I felt my head begin to throb and Jungkook sighed.

“Suit yourself.” He stood up and I stayed still, watching his tall frame tower over me with ease. He gave me a small bitter smile. It was fraught with hatred and I stared back at him, knowing the emotion was probably mirrored in my gaze.

“Beautiful Elena. As pretty as the day you left me at the altar.” He smirked and I flushed.

“Your vengeance is petty and pointless and unfair…just like you.” I said angrily, frustration building u at his words. The way he talked about our broken engagement like it even mattered. It hadn’t even been real. We had hardly spoken and my father had called the wedding off at the last moment. But apparently, that had been the last straw for the Jeons. They had come after my father’s entire existence with a single minded intent to destroy him and they had succeeded. The man was dead . His two sons were dead.

But apparently it wasn’t enough.

Jungkook stared at me, slipping his hands into his pockets.

“Maybe. But it’s also deadly and potent. And it won’t rest until I see you reduced to nothing but a whore on the streets, spreading your legs for every man who can afford you.” He laughed. “ Saying no is a luxury , one that you’ll soon be unable to afford.”

I refused to be cowed, refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing that his words scared me. Because they did.

They scared me so damn much.

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

“This bed is so lumpy… I’m so sorry, unnie..” I said apologetically but Jisoo shook her head quickly, palms cupping my face as I held her elbows, gently lowering her to the bed. I stared at her feet, feeling my heart race at how swollen they looked. That can’t be normal, a voice whispered and

I didn’t know if that was normal and I had no money to take her to a clinic. The social center we usually went to only allowed three visits per month and we had used it all up. I wanted to throw caution to the wind and spend the thirty thousand won it would take but that would mean no groceries for a week and surely bread and eggs wouldn’t stretch that long, even if I could sneak meals in the restaurant for myself.

“I’ve been feeling a little dizzy…I’ll just sleep.” She said tiredly. She was thirty six weeks along, not due for another four weeks but her blood pressure was erratic. Her lab numbers were oscillating and there had been talks of an emergency c section. Even with insurance it was way more than I could afford but I had my own jewelry, a few expensive trinkets from my teenage years. I’d been obsessed with diamonds and my father had indulged me and I had a pair of earrings left. I’d already sold the rest but this would take care of the medical bills for the birth itself.

“My shift starts in ten minutes. I have to go. Give me a call if you need anything…” I said softly and I saw the familiar blank and listless look come into her eyes. I knew she was depressed, dealing with grief and pregnancy and loss but there was nothing I could do for her. Nothing. I had applied for a bunch of other jobs but they never wrote back. It wasn’t easy, being rejected over and over again but it wasn’t like there was much else I could do. And the truth was I was resigned to this, accepted that at some point I would have to take more loans and be stuck in an endless cycle of debt for the rest of my life.

And I had made peace with that.

There was no future for me. And I was okay with just surviving.

If only Jungkook would let me.

Apparently, watching me wipe down greasy tables and mop up floors and toilets trying to earn just enough to get a few square meals didn’t soothe his anger. It only fueled it. Jungkook couldn’t fathom that it had been six whole months of me on the streets of Seoul and I wasn’t completely destitute yet. I’d kept myself and my sister in law alive, safe and it pissed him off.

He wanted to see me broken and on my knees, begging him for help. The idea of me somehow surviving despite him taking everything away from me, it just didn’t sit well with him.

I couldn’t afford to have him as an enemy so all I could really hope was that one day he would wake up and give up. One day he would just wake up and decide that I wasn’t worth it.

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

When I walked into my shift and noticed a familiar pair of high heeled Louboutins , completely out of place in my seedy place of employment, I knew I was in trouble. Lisa sat against one of the booths and her gaze was fixated on the door which meant she was waiting for someone. And when her eyes narrowed at the sight of me, I just knew I was the someone.

She wants to get me fired.

It wasn’t rocket science and I felt the urge to turn right back around and leave. But I tamped down on it. I could get through this. I would get through this. Lisa and Jungkook got off on invoking reactions and I wouldn’t give them that.

Except it wasn’t that easy.

It was a nightmare, watching her demand and reject and walk all over me but the sleeplessness from the past few days made spacing out easier and I just stared away at the wall as she yelled and complained and made a scene.

“You’ve stopped fighting? Finally giving up? Good…” She hissed when the manager apologized to her and told me to meet him after my shift and I felt myself tremble in indignation.

“I won’t fight you or Jungkook, you and I both know I can’t afford to.” I said quietly and she went still, something flashing in her eyes for a second. It was gone before I could fully process it but it had been there. Guilt.

Lisa wasn’t a terrible human. She had been a dear friend. We had grown up together and she had even hugged and teased me when I’d been betrothed to Jungkook, all those years ago. I had been twenty back then, naïve and spoiled. While Jungkook had taken my father’s entire legacy apart, piece by piece, Lisa had been nothing more than a pawn. I remembered all the times I had let her home, how she would disappear for lengths of time.

Planting bugs all over the house. All over his office. Jungkook had been smart. Someone like Lisa, so fascinated by thr wealth she had grown up around would naturally jump at the idea of more. It wasn’t greed. It was human nature. And with her help he had destroyed everything my father had built over decades.

I shuddered. My father hadn’t been a good man. He had been greedy, yes. But he hadn’t deserved to die. And Jungkook would have to pay for that sin, someday.

“There’s a job waiting for you in Hoseok’s club.” She smiled cruelly , “ you don’t need this one.”

“The fact that you want to take it away from me, tells me that maybe there’s nothing left in you save.” I said blankly and she turned her nose up at me.

“I have Jungkook. I don’t need to be saved.”

I shook my head. She was so naïve. Men like Jungkook cared for nothing but themselves. But I wondered if women like her didn’t care for anything but the money that came with being his. Money was precious, I thought bitterly. I’d never realized how privileged I had been until I’d had it all ripped away.

“He’s the one you need saving from. And one day you’ll realize that.” I shrugged, not in the mood to offer her anymore life advice. If she was alright with being a trophy wife in exchange for a few pretty shoes that was her prerogative.

Before she could reply, my phone rang.

“Hello?” I asked nervously and I felt my heart drop to my knees when I heard who it was.

I turned on my heel rushing inside and my manager gave me a look of surprise.

“ My sister..she’s… she’s sick. I need to go.” I said desperately and his eyes narrowed. It was the worst timing. He was already annoyed because of Lisa and I stared in disbelief as he quickly shook his head.

“No. I’m sorry Elena…I just can’t let you leave like that…” He said sharply.

It was so unfair.

“I haven’t taken a single day off in five months…” I said desperately..” Please, she’s pregnant..She needs me, she-“

“If you leave, you won’t have a job to come back to. I can’t do this.. First you make trouble with a customer and now you just want to walk out in the middle of your shift without any notice…”

“Fine. Fire me.” I snapped, because I’d just had enough of it. I was exhausted, and tomorrow I’d go knocking on some other tore and I’d get a job. I lived in Seoul …How hard could it be? For now, I had to get to Jisoo. I had to get the hospital and things would be okay.

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

It wasn’t okay.

“I… You want to keep her in? So soon?”

“Her blood pressure is through the roof. There are signs of severe pre eclampsia and we want to get her started on a magnesium drip. Steroids to help the baby’s lungs incase we need to deliver…”

“Deliver..?” I couldn’t breathe.

“Yes, I’m sorry…. If her blood pressure doesn’t come down we’re going to have to deliver.”

I nodded, glancing at the bed where Jisoo was sleeping, her face swollen and I knew that she was sick. Really sick. She looked pallid and ill.

“Is she going to be okay?” I asked hoarsely.

“We’re going to do what we can… But I’m going to be honest, we’re looking at a c section, a lot of meds and also some time in the NICU for the baby…. Can you afford it? Your sister’s insurance only covers 80% .”

I blinked, completely thrown. White noise rushed through my ears, a dull throb settling right at the base of my skull and beginning to spread all the way to my arms and back. It was panic mixed wth anxiety mixed with despair and I couldn’t quite cope. The earrings wouldn’t cover all that.

“Oh… Oh..yeah.” I said dully, “ Of course I can… Let me just…. Can I have a moment? There’s somethings I need to do.”

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

I carefully slipped the cash into the envelope, swallowing as I sat on the pavement. I’d got another call from the hospital, they had administered the steroids but Jisoo’s condition seemed to be worsening. They wanted to try inducing labour soon but they wanted me to pay for the room and for the medicines, and apparently, the earrings weren’t as valuable as I thought they were.

I fought nausea wrapping arms around myself as I stared at the cars whizzing by, the putrid city air clogging my lungs as I tried to come to terms with what was happening. Jisoo needed help. She was the only one left and she carried my brother’s son. I felt my throat clog when I thought of Daehwan. He had been a good guy. I had loved him. It wasn’t fair, what Jungkook had done to my family, I thought miserably .

And the only reason I wasn’t driven by vengeance or anger was because I was nothing like Jungkook. I hated him. I didn’t want him to live in my head, didn’t want to waste any part of myself on him , not even my anger. But it was hard when he wouldn’t let me breathe, always at my heels like a wolf : jaws snapping and blood thirsty eyes trained on me at all times. I couldn’t fathom his obsession sometimes. Surely, his hatred was uncalled for now? He’d taken everything from me anyway.

There was a dull roaring in my ears, one that said that this was not really a surprise. I’d thought about it way too often, had considered it countless times. Had even spent one absolutely horrifying evening scouring the streets of Seoul’s red light district just to see how sex workers behaved.

I’d also realized that in the face of desperation, dignity didn’t hold much value.

You are going to pay your debts on your back and on your knees.

The first time Jungkook had thrown it at my face, eyes glinting with glee, my stomach had rebelled so hard. I’d been absolutely infuriated, had thrown a vase at him. And it had been awful, watching him catch it out of the air with ease, his mocking laughter making my bones rattle as he shook his head, “ That’s how this ends, Elena. Mark my words.”

And it was pitiful , that he went through life so consumed with hatred and vindictive cruelty that he couldn’t leave me alone . He was pathetic. That’s how I saw him. A pathetic child who refused to stop tormenting the helpless ant on the floor although it was no match for his cruelty.

At some point Jungkook was going to win. And his idea of winning was seeing me stripped bare of the one thing that kept me alive : my freedom.

It had just happened sooner than I’d thought.

Because I knew what it would mean, to go to Hoseok. He would own me. Hoseok’s whores were all slaves, tangled in his web so badly that there was no hope of escape. He wasn’t cruel but he was smart. No one left the his ‘ agency’ once they went in. I would be lost, forever. And I couldn’t stomach it.

I stared at my knees, fists clenched on the fabric of my skirt. I grabbed my phone, scrolling through the contacts. I considered it carefully. I had to do this on my terms. Had to make sure I retained some sort of control here.

And I knew just how to do it.

Hoseok picked up on the third ring.

“Hello.”

“I need help.” I croaked out.

The deep chuckle made my skin crawl.

“Elena Gong. What a wonderful, wonderful surprise. What can I do you for?” He drawled.

“Well sweetheart, I’m all out of charity so you’re going to have to make it worth my while.”

I took a deep breath.

“I’m a virgin.” I whispered.

The line went completely silent.

“What?” The amusement in his voice died.

“You heard me and I’ll let you cash in on it. I’ll let you auction it off…” I tamped down on the burning protest in my lung, the screaming inside my head that said it was horrifying, that I was considering this. “ But only if you keep my terms.”

“What makes you think you have a say in that.” He said sharply and I laughed.

“I belong to your world, Hoseok. Did you forget that we were friends, once.” I whispered and he didn’t reply.

Laughter, kindness, a big brother I could always count on, hobi oppa, nine year old me with my fingers curled around his wrist as we ran all around the gardens , a smile so wide that he could spread sunshine on the gloomiest days. Different from Jungkook and Namjoon and Yoongi and the others. Willing to include a ‘ girl’ in his playtime. Lisa and I the only girls, not even fazed watching as the rest of them wielded toy guns and mock interrogation scenes, pretending to kill and maim and torture because that was the world we were born into.

“We’re not friends, Elena. Let’s get that straight. The only part of you that holds any value to me is th part between your legs. So tell me, what do you want.”

“When was the last time you auctioned off someone’s virginity? You know how much money you can make off something like that. Not just from the sale itself but from the entire night. Your club… Your gaming hell…. All of it.”

“You expect me to believe you’re a virgin. At twenty seven.” He scoffed.

“Put the word out, everywhere. If you find one man who says he’s slept with me , I’ll back off.”

“That would require me to tarnish your family name. And you’re alright with that?”

I smiled biotterly.

“Isn’t that what you and your precious Jungkookie want? To see the last living Gong, be labeled as a whore and a slut.”

He didn’t reply.

“I’ll give you that. You can do it… You know that will only interest more people. As Jungkook so eloquently put it, most of them would love to fuck the defiance out of me.”

“What’s the catch. What do you want. ”

“2 billion won.” I said firmly “It will be one night. One night only and I want enough money to pay off every one of my father’s debts, to get me an apartment for my sister in law and to support her and her baby for a year at least.”

“Done.” He said without missing a beat and I went still. What must it be like, to throw around money like that without a care in the world. And it sickened me that Jungkook was probably ten times as rich as Hoseok , the money my father owed him and his associates not even pocket change in comparison to his gargantuan wealth and yet, he stayed on my heels, snapping his jaws like a dog with a bone.

“And Jungkook doesn’t get to watch.” I said softly, knowing exactly what Jungkook would get off on.

That made Hoseok laugh.

“You know him too well. I keep forgetting he was madly in love with you once.”

I resisted the urge to vomit. Jungkook didn’t know love. He knew ownership. He didn’t love me, he thought he owned me. That I was his to play with…. For the rest of his life. And when my father had denied him that, just like a toddler in a toy store being denied a shiny toy to break and trample on, he had thrown a temper tantrum.

Except his tantrums always ended in death and destruction.

“That’s the deal. He doesn’t turn up there to gloat.”

“He’s heading out to Switzerland for a week , two days from now.” Hoseok said evenly.

“Good then. My sister in law…she “ I swallowed. “ She’s in a hospital in Yongsan. I’ll send you the address.”

“I’ll take care of it. But I want you here tonight. I’m not going to drop a couple billion won on your head without making sure I’m getting my money’s worth. And I can’t have you changing your mind and bolting either. My reputation is on the line here. If I put out the word that I’m serving something so fucking delicious and then back out, they’re not going to want to buy Hobi’s wares anymore. You understand what I’m saying darling?” Hoseok drawled and I knew exactly what he was saying. If I agreed to this, it was blanket consent for him to whatever he wanted.

“I won’t back out. I can’t. But this is one night. One night with whichever bastard you choose and that’s it. I want out. I don’t want you or Jungkook hounding me again. Ever.” My voice shook as I dug my fingers into my knees.

“My men will be there in ten minutes. Sit tight, princess.”

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

I stared at Hoseok as he carefully poured me a finger of whiskey, neat. He gave me a smirk and I shrugged.

“you remember.” I said casually, throat itching because it had been way too long since I’d had quality alcohol. I missed the burn, the warmth , the numbness that followed.

“Of course I do. You could drink all of us under the table with little effort. It was spectacular.” He laughed and I leaned back against the couch, letting my head fall back.

“I was half certain that you would have a doctor around to make sure I’m a virgin.” I stared at him and he shrugged. “ Pointless. You’re twenty seven, you’ve probably had stuff up there anyway… Not like your hymen’s still going to be intact.”

I thought it was rather horrifying, that I didn’t feel nearly as mortified as I should. This was how Hoseok talked, matter of fact and open and that was why he was so popular. Anytime an important person came into the country, Hobi was the one who offered entertainment for the night. Hobi’s girls were always the prettiest, most well behaved and perfect. They were educated, knew what they were talking about and he didn’t force them into the life. They loved it, enjoyed it and it showed.

Not to say he was a saint.

Far from it.

Hoseok knew how to dine with kings in castles but also how to wrestle with swine in the gutter. The seedy brothels in Seoul’s back alleys were his as well, and he ruled his kingdom with an iron hand. The prostitutes there feared him, one look or word enough to silence any rebellion, any thought of escape.

He was called Hope. And yet somehow that was exactly what he denied the women under him. There was no hope here. There was only lust and power and money. You came to Hobi…. You never left .

I took the glass he offered, taking a small sip, savoring the taste.

“But you believe me. I wonder why.” I watched him closely and he scoffed.

“Between your father and Jungkook, no one ever really had the pluck to come anywhere near you did they?”

Undisputable.

I sighed, leaning back to stare at him.

“Do you think dying hurts?” I asked softly.

It was frightening, how his entire body went stiff, eyes wide and jaw dropping.

“Elena, what the fuck-“

“Its just a question. You’ve killed people. You’ve watched them die… how do you think they feel?” I asked , curious.

“None of them wanted to die. If that’s what you’re asking.” The look in his eyes made me nervous.

I stared at him and the question was obvious. None of them wanted to die, but do you?

I didn’t.

“I’m not thinking of killing myself , oppa. Stop looking so horrified.” I laughed. He shook his head.

“ Don’t joke about that. It’s not fucking funny.”

I sobered up, remembering with a jolt. Ah, of course.

“I’m sorry. I forgot.” I said quietly.

Hoseok’s little sister had killed herself when I was seventeen. She was a year older than me and her father had lost her in a wager to a seventy year old man, known for torturing his bedmates. She had heard the news, taken a deep breath and taken a deep dive off the seventeeth floor of the condo where she lived with her mother.

I’d been engaged to Jungkook by then. And I had almost wanted it. Jungkook wasn’t old at least… twenty one to my seventeen.

“Just so you know, he’s going to find out. And he’s not going to like it.”

I shrugged. Three years is a long time to be preyed upon and now my mind was resigned to a life of being hunted. Hoseok was right. Jungkook would find out and he wouldn’t like it.

Good.

“I don’t care what he does anymore. All I care is that Jisoo and the baby are left out of whatever plans he has…. If you promise me you’ll keep them safe , I’ll cooperate.”

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

It was a baby boy.

I stared, fingers itching to hold the baby but it was impossible, the little one whisked away to the NICU right after with respiratory distress and Jisoo had gone into a seizure, eyes rolling back into her eyes.

She as alright now, resting in a VIP room with the best care money could buy. Hoseok had asked me if I was happy with the arrangements, and if I would name the boy after him.

I stared at the room, large and breezy and filled with flowers and gifts, toys and baby stuff and I knew right then that I had sealed my fate. I was going to have to go through with this. I could imagine how much Jisoo would protest when she came to her senses. The only relief was that it would take her a few days to be good enough to fight or protest. But then this would all be over and done with.

Jungkook would leave this afternoon. His flight was at three.

I would reach the club at five. The patrons would arrive at seven.

One night, I reminded myself , staring at the gentle rise and fall of Jisoo’s chest as she slept, my fingers playing with the soft skin on her wrist. The IV line went through her veins and I watched the gentle drip of it.

One night.

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

I didn’t know how auctions happened and while I’d been prepared for the worst kind of humiliation, Hoseok assured me that he wasn’t going to make me stand naked on some podium or something.

“Generally, I would do something like that simply for the flair of it but consider this a favor ….a respite because you were, as you said, once a friend.” He gave me an even smile and I could only nod in mute relief.

I was grateful. Beyond grateful.

And what was more, he hadn’t told anyone, who I was.

That stunned me. Because wasn’t that the selling point? The murderous, greedy mob rat Gong Hyo Suk’s only daughter forced to spread her legs for one lucky stranger? If Hoseok had cashed in on that he would have made a fortune. But he hadn’t. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Would , whoever it was be upset if he recognized me?

I was led to a bedroom, large and tastefully decorated with silky satin sheets and dark curtains and dim lighting that lit up parts of the room and left other parts plunged in darkness. Hoseok had told me to wear whatever I wanted and I realized with a pang that he really didn’t see this as some sort of transaction. He was trying to make it as easy as possible without making any decisions for me. Offering me choices and options and some illusion of being in control.

I didn’t have anything fancy so it was just a dress shirt that I borrowed from Hoseok. I’d left the underwear off, eager to merely get the whole thing over with. I felt a sudden overwhelming urge to laugh out loud.

If Jungkook were here he really would have lost his damn mind, simply because of how little this whole thing affected me. And that was it, really. He was always desperate for a reaction.

Earlier when this whole thing had started, I’d obliged him with that. I would scream, rant and yell….launch myself at him like a wildcat, scratching at him , fists flying and it was obscene, how much he seemed to enjoy that. He would press me up against walls and tables , fingers choking the breath out of my lung, just so he could see me struggle and push back.

He fed off from every negative reaction I offered him and it had taken me a long long time that the way to beat him was to become passive, unresponsive. I would go limp in his arms, stare at him blankly as he tried to manhandle me and that…that had pissed him off. Because that meant I wasn’t playing his game anymore.

If the prey wasn’t playing, the game wasn’t fun anymore. It was drab.

Boring.

And I knew that Jungkook kept raising the stakes, kept tightening the noose around my neck….just to bring that girl out again. The one that had wanted to put up a fight . The one that wanted to mouth off even with the muzzle of a gun pressed against her head. The one who would spit in his face in front of all his associates, even if it earned her a vicious strike of his hand across her face.

I shuddered. They weren’t memories I liked reliving.

Well, if that was who he wanted, I’d make sure he would never see her again.

The door opening made me jump and Hoseok came in , with a wide grin on his face.

“Baby…. Your guest for the night.” He said softly and I peered over his shoulders, my heart and mind grinding to a halt when I caught sight of what had to be the most breathtakingly beautiful man on the face of the planet.

I felt my heart begin to pound, fear taking over because this wasn’t okay. Not really. I was okay with old, creepy and disgusting , not able to get it up for more than ten minutes.

I wasn’t okay with someone who looked like they stepped right out of the latest issue of GQ.

Hoseok left quickly, closing the door behind him and the man stepped into the light, the brightness lighting up his perfect features even more. I felt my throat go dry, and fought the urge to get up and run. Growing up as the daughter of a mobster , I’d learned how to trust my instincts over appearances.

And right now, every single one of those instincts screamed at me that this man was absolutely dangerous.

“Well, you are beautiful. I’ll give you that. “ He said casually.

“Thank you.” I said stiltedly, watching as he tugged on his tie, pulling it off his neck deftly . Instead of tossing it aside , he wrapped it a bunch of times around his wrist over and over as he smiled at me.

“Don’t thank me yet. The only reason I like beautiful things is because of how easily they break.” He smiled. “ I haven’t been with a virgin in a while…. I miss the screams.”

And there it was the full blown panic that came with stark terror. I crawled back on the bed, staring as he moved closer and there was no mistaking the look on his face, the harsh grip of his hand on my ankle telling me that I was going to regret every one of the choices that led me here.

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

“Hoseok wasn’t at the airport.” Jungkook observed casually, glancing at Yoongi as the latter finished cleaning his gun carefully, eyes fixed on his weapon with utmost concentration.

“He’s holding some sort of auction tonight. Some chick …” Yoongi said casually and Jungkook hummed. It was not the kind of thing he was interested in. Anonymous bids were often boring : actresses or female idols past their prime, desperate to make some money to survive. He had no interest in those but he was a little peeved that Hoseok hadn’t told him anything about it.

Hoseok was one of Jungkook’s most trusted friends. He was almost as powerfully rich as Jungkook and the only reason Jungkook reigned supreme was because Hoseok had no interest in challenging him for the throne. Hoseok was dangerous and cunning and loyal and Jungkook was grateful to have him on his side and he had hoped to see him before leaving. Just to ask him to keep an eye on Elena.

He grimaced, hating himself.

God, he couldn’t go two hours without thinking of her. It fucked with his head, the amount of space she took up inside him. Jungkook , for all his wealth and power, was driven solely by his need to prove himself. He wanted to be powerful and terrifying yes, but more than that , he wanted people to know.

He wanted people to look him in the eye and acknowledge him for what he was : the most dangerous man in the country. He liked seeing that fear, that worship, that admiration. He got off on it. He wanted it , craved it and for some reason he craved it more from her , than anyone else.

And instead of giving him what he wanted, instead of begging on her knees for mercy, instead of licking his shoes and begging for him to let her live….she ignored him. She looked at him with defiance and pride, her chin straight and her back unbending, her gaze locked right on him like she was his fucking equal….

And Jungkook, he’d taken a lot of insults. Taken more than his fair share of hits in life …..

But when she looked at him like that , like he was something stuck to the bottom of her shoe….

Fuck it drove him wild with fury.

It made him want to teach her a fucking lesson, to remind her that he owned her because he owned everything. To break her down, snuff out the flames of defiance that burned so bright in those ember eyes… Take her into his bed and brand her with his body. Till she was on the floor, on her knees covered in his spit and cum begging for mercy….

Because no one looked at Jeon Jungkook like that and lived to tell the tale..

“Seokjin’s here. Landed in Korea a couple of hours ago. ” Yoongi said casually and Jungkook smiled a bit at that. He loved his older brother, technically a step brother and growing up he had only saw him when he visited his mother in China. That meant a couple of months a year and now as adults, a bit more often because Seokjin loved Jungkook and liked to visit him often.

Seokjin was a celebrity trainer, working with actors and athletes and he did a good amount of modeling as well. He was rich, handsome and well liked and the only thing that gave away the Jeon blood in him was the fact that he was a sexual sadist.

The face of an angel with a devilish streak, he had a penchant for sadism and inflicting pain on his partners and while Jungkook didn’t particularly enjoy indulging him, he knew there were women who were into that and usually had them arranged for when Seokjin dropped by in Korea. His hyung’s visit seldom lasted more than a few weeks at a time and it was a pity that he would miss out one whole week of it .

But the issue in Switzerland was a little pressing and Jungkook had to be there in person to sort it out.

He leaned back against the seat, staring out of the window, sighing.

“An unsullied dove ….What the fuck is this shit..” Yoongi muttered and Jungkook turned, curious.

“What?”

“Hoseok’s been hyping up some new girl for the auction and Seokjin hyung’s bidding on her.”

Jungkook laughed at that.

“Jungkook…..” Yoongi’s voice is completely stunned, his eyes confused as he looks up at Jungkook.” Its Elena.”

Jungkook’s thought process came to a grinding halt.

There’s a sound between his ears, a dull rushing sound like the wind in a storm and he can’t quite comprehend what he just heard. Even Namjoon who had been buried in his laptop , looked up then, tugging an airpod out of his ear.

“Wait…did you say Elena?” His eyes were wide , lips parted in shock. Yoongi and Namjoon exchanged glances, no doubt bracing themselves for the explosion that was to follow.

Jungkook took a deep breath.

“Turn the fucking plane around.”

That jolted Namjoon out of his stunned stupor..

“Turn-? Jungkook what…. We’re on a fourteen hour flight-“ Namjoon began but the look on Jungkook’s face made him stop.

“DID I FUCKING STUTTER?”

Namjoon swore.

“Fucking hell… alright just calm the fuck down, Jesus…just put a fucking bullet in that girl’s head and spare us all the headache fuck…” He growled, unbuckling his seat belt and rushing to the cockpit and Yoongi groaned.

“ Let me guess you want me to get in touch with someone in Seoul and ask Hoseok to hold off on letting Seokjin near her…”

Jungkook glared at him.

“If you already know that why the fuck are you still here…” He growled and Yoongi gave him a look.

“Just tell her you’re in love with her and let us live, Jeon Jungkook.”

In love….. what the fuck….

He glared at Yoongi’s back, his asinine words making him madder. God he wanted to crush someone’s skull into dust with his bare hands.

And right now, in his head , that skull belonged to Jung fucking Hoseok.

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

“What just happened?” I asked, frantic staring at the door as Hoseok’s men casually led a fuming Seokjin away while the man himself stared at me, looking pale as parchment.

“ Jungkook found out.” He said shortly and I felt my heart drop although I was half relieved because there had been something insane in Kim Seokjin’s gaze when he’d reached for me , a cruel glint of hunger that told me he would have hurt me really badly if Hoseok hadn’t barged into the room , frantic and worried.

He had given Seokjin a wide smile and then, “ I’m so sorry. We were waiting on her blood results and turns out she has a…. well, certain occupational disease that is very infectious.”

Seokjin’s mouth had dropped open even wider than mine.

“I thought she was a fucking virgin.” He had snapped, and I flinched at how cold and furious he had sounded.

But apparently there was a reason this whole thing had happened.

“What do you mean Jungkook knows? What does that mean?” I asked frantically, fear taking over.

“ He’s heading back here… He wants to see you.”

I felt my entire body go ice cold as I shook my head…

“No…fucking no bring Seokjin back here , he can fuck me that was the fucking deal, Hobi, please don’t../…”

“Elena , I’m so fucking sorry.. Seokjin…he’s fucked in the head…. He likes hurting his whores, likes making them bleed and he would have fucking destroyed you…”

I gaped at him horrified.

“What?!” I hissed shaking my head in disbelief.

“He’s Jungkook’ stepbrother. I’ve arranged whores for him before, I knew he was a little crazy but I’d never seen him before and I didn’t know he was the Kim Seokjin…fuck he outbid everyone and fucker looks like a fucking angel, how the fuck was I supposed to know he’s unhinged? Thankfully, I messaged Yoongi and …. Fuck… Listen… I know I paid for your sister’s surgery but you’re going to have to pay me back….”

I felt my body convulse in rebellion.

“I can’t.. You know I fucking can’t…”

“I can’t make an enemy out of Jungkook…. I can’t.” Hoseok shook his head. “ You can get out of here now if you want but I’d advise you to stay. If you run it’s only going to make Jungkook angrier.”

“WHAT DID I FUCKING DO TO HIM?!!!” I screamed, feeling my composure crumble into smithereens. “WHAT THE FUCK DOES HE WANT FROM ME?!!”

Hoseok flinched, stepping back and holding his hands up.

“Whether I want to or not, I answer to Jungkook. I shouldn’t have done this in the first place , I’m sorry Elena.” He shook his head and stepped back like the coward that he was and I wanted to hurt him. To shake him and ask him to fucking remember who I was. That I had nothing to do with my father’s sins . That I had been a fucking marionette in his hands, had wanted nothing more than to be left alone.

I stared at him in disbelief.

“So much for being a friend…” I whispered.

His jaw tightened. But he didn’t look guilty. None of them ever did. It was like guilt didn’t exist in their world. They did what they wanted to whoever they wanted , whenever they wanted and they got away with it because that bastard’s word was law. What Jeon Jungkook wanted, he got.

“I’ll get your clothes sent in.”

I watched him leave, the door slamming shut behind him and sagged against the bed, staring at myself. What had just happened?

Was I born to endless misery and misfortune?

Couldn’t I catch a fucking break?

I’d agreed to sell myself hadn’t I? Would have even let Seokjin hurt me if that was what he wanted. Because it was one night. It was one night of this…whatever the hell this was and then freedom. That was the deal.

The door opened again and I stared as a young girl brought me a pile of my clothes neatly folded.

“Do you work here?” I said sharply.

She blinked before bowing her head.

“Yes, mistress.”

I scoffed.

“Don’t call me mistress , I’m here to get fucked, just like you. Tell me does Jungkook ever use the women here.” I demanded.

She looked trapped, glancing at the door, clearly wanting to run .

“Tell me.” I snapped and she flinched.

“I..uh..yes. Sometimes.” She said softly.

“Can you tell whoever fucks him next to kick him in the fucking balls?”

The girl bowed deeply and all but ran out and I sighed, feeling myself shaking. Jungkook was on the way here and I wanted to yell and scream and rave at him but I knew that was exactly what he wanted. I wanted to deny him the satisfaction …wanted to act all cool and composed in front of him but it was impossible…

Because I hadn’t realized just how tired I was of this whole thing, till right this moment, when the end had been in sight. I was supposed to get my two billion won pay off all the debt , give Jisoo the rest of the money and disappear. I was so tired, so tired of this life I’d gotten trapped into, slaving over for hours on end just to afford a couple of meals a day. No friends, no boyfriends, no hope of a future …..

The door banged open and I jumped, crawling back when I recognized the man who had just entered.

“Yoongi-“

“Jungkook wants to see you.” He ground out and I swallowed.

“I need to get dressed. Please just wait outside.” I said shakily.

And then the door opened further and a tall looming shadow stepped in familiar and vomit inducing.

Jungkook looked livid, piercing glinting through the dimply lit room and I stared at him. He was dressed in a tight black t shirt, he sleeves stretched thin over his biceps and the tattoos stark against his skin.

“Leave us.” He said softly and Yoongi moved away to the door leaving me alone with the devil himself. I cursed myself for not putting at least my panties on, I was naked underneath this shirt and although it was big it left nothing to the imagination.

Jungkook’s eyes raked over my form before resting on my face.

“You think you’re smart enough to outsmart me, Elena?” He whispered softly.

I swallowed.

“Send you brother back in. He can fuck me and I’ll pay you back.”

Jungkook hummed, stepping closer and grabbing my clothes from the bed, he grabbed the plain white bra and the pastel pink underwear and then to my complete and utter mortification he brought the clothing up to his face, breathing in .

“Fucking pervert!!!” I screamed, feeling the action like a physical touch and wanting to claw his eyes out and the smirk on his face told me that this was exactly what he wanted but I was too fucking gone to care.

“If you want me to be a whore, fine. I’ll be a whore. But on my terms…” I spat out and he shook his head, laughing.

“I don’t just want you to be a whore, Elena. I want everyone to know that you are one…” He dropped my clothes and moved closer, holding a hand out. “ Come here.”

I stared at the inked fingers, adorned with sterling silver rings and bracelets with the motifs of his gang. I shook my head.

“No. I’m not playing this game with you.” I turned my face away.

His hand shot out gripping my upper arm with enough strength to bruise and I screamed, agony shooting up my arm and shoulders as he dragged me off the bed and onto the floor. I landed hard, hips and elbows bruising from impact and I stared at him in disbelief.

“I’ve been to gentle with you. You’ve forgotten your fucking place.” He bent over and grabbed me by my hair, yanking me to my feet so hard that it felt like my scalp had been ripped away from my skull.

“Okay…okay…Okay Jungkook..just…!!” I said softly, flinching because my pain tolerance was almost zero and Jungkook’s grip was so hard that my eyes were beginning to water now. He let me go, grabbing my panties off the floor and tossing them at me.

“I’m going to count to five. Put those on and get out.”

He walked out of the door and I stumbled a little fumbling with the fabric before quickly, slipping my legs in and yanking it up to my waist. I made to put on something else but his voice came, loud and impatient.

“Get the fuck out here.”

I walked out of the door and he was standing there next to Hoseok. I couldn’t meet either of their gazes , hating how they had so much power over my life. I stared at the floor. It was tempting to yell at them and scream but that never led anywhere.

“ I’ve asked them to stop the payment on the Hospital bill. Seeing as Elena hasn’t kept her end of the bargain.”

I felt my breath hitch at that, willing down the tears as I glared at him.

“What do you want?” I snapped. “ Tell me who you want me to fuck…. I’ll do it. Let’s get this over with so you can go back to whatever sewer you fucking climbed out of. ….”

Hoseok’s breath caught like he couldn’t believe what I’d just said and the look in his eye was a warning but I was sick of this. Sick of them all.

Jungkook turned to Hoseok with a laugh.

“You see hyung? See why I can’t let her go? If I let her scot free, everyone’s going to think I’m a pushover….that any worthless bitch can talk to me any way she wants and get away with it….” He shook his head, staring at me with a glint in his eye. “ I’m not going to choose. They are. You think you can charm your way into Hoseok’s heart and get special treatment? You think you’re ready to be a whore, Elena? Let me show you how a real whore gets treated in Hoseok’s club.”

He gripped my wrist, yanking me behind him as he stalked off down the narrow corridor that opened up into the club. I let myself get dragged out into the club dismally aware of the fact that I was wearing nothing but Hoseok’s shirt. I could feel eyes on me but I kept mine on the back of Jungkook’s head as he dragged me all the way to the front. I knew what he was going to do and at this point I was just numb.

There was no point reasoning with the devil.

I glared at him as he pointed at the stage. “ Get up there.” He whispered harshly.

I stared back at him, not moving. I saw Jungkook’s jaw clench.

“Either you go up there by yourself, with your clothes on. Or I carry you up there, after stripping you naked. What’s it going to be? ”

I glared at him, pursing my lips before climbing up using the small stair in the side. I moved to the center, right in front of the stage lights, so the rest of the room would disappear. I had no wish to see any of the bastards in the room.

“I think all of you recognize this little beauty here, don’t you?” Jungkook’s voice was cheerful, friendly even and I bit my lips, fists clenched. “ Well, if you don’t let me tell you . This is Gong Hyo Suk’s daughter. Remember that bastard? He put a hit out on my father. Killed him and my mom on the night I was supposed to be marrying his fucking daughter. A daughter who later called off the wedding, because I was too poor now, to give her the life she deserved. ”

I felt the familiar ice cold guilt in my vein. I was seventeen, I wanted to scream. I was seventeen and all I did was say what my father asked me to say, do what my father asked me to do.

“ That was nine fucking years ago… and you know what I told myself…. I told myself, that a greedy little bitch like this, doesn’t deserve shit.” He laughed. “ If money’s what she values the most, then the only thing she deserves is to be treated like the whore she is.”

“Why don’t you guys tell me, how much money you’d be willing to spend, to fuck her? Come on, Hobi’s been treating you guys so well lets help him make some money tonight… be generous. ”

I could barely hear what they were calling out but when Jungkook climbed onto the stage next to me, I jumped. Moving back instinctively, I winced when brought a forearm around my throat nearly choking me as he dragged up against his body.

“90 million won….That’s a lot.” He grinned. “ Jihan hyung….. that was you right? You’re gonna pay 90 million won for her?”

I felt my heart race, it was a lot. More than enough for the Hospital Bills, would even leave extra to get a decent apartment somewhere... I grabbed his wrist as it pressed into my throat, trying to pull his hand off me but he just wrapped his free hand around my waist, wrapping his entire body around mine and chuckling into my hair.

Jungkook pressed his head against mine and I froze, hating the close contact.

“Okay…but since I’m feeling a bit left out here…Why don’t I pitch in… 500 Won.” Jungkook said loud and clear.

I froze. An eerie silence fell over the club, laughter stilling and the clink of glasses slowing down.

What.

I struggled to get away from his but his hold tightened.

“Anyone else?” He called out. “ Come on… Not even thousand? Surely you think this one here’s worth a thousand won? Aren’t you going to outbid me?”

No one responded of course they didn’t. Jungkook’s anger was palpable and no one was going to get on his wrong side …..

“Ahh… is that it then? Bid’s going to close for 500 won then…. Hear that baby?” He whispered against my ears and I swallowed. “ 90, million won to five hundred won in a few seconds… What does that tell you?”

“It tells me you’re a fucking psychopath in love with your own voice… Get off me.” I hissed.

“No. What it tells you is that only I get to decide how much that body of yours is worth, not you. . You don’t get to go sell your fucking body behind my back for two billion won and then pay off all your debts and ride off into the sunset, that is not how this works….”

I went limp in his arms fighting tears because he never played fair. Never.

“Hear that Hoseok-ah… I win her for the night for 500 won…fair and square…. Is that alright?” He called out into the darkness and I felt the first inkling of dread begin to seep in.

“No.. No… get off me.” I hissed and he laughed, dragging me off the stage with ease. I screamed, kicking out in disbelief.

Jungkook grinned at me, before grabbing both my arms and yanking them behind me, and I whimpered, unable to move as he easily pulled me along to the door that opened into the hallway. Behind us I heard Hoseok’s voice.

“Jungkook, don’t be impulsive. Think about whatever you’re going to do.”

I flinched at that, panic building.

“He’s not going to do anything. I’ll fucking kill him if he touches me , I-“

“Shut the fuck up, you little bitch.” He shook me hard till my teeth rattled and I sobbed out.

“Jungkook…” Hoseok warned but he merely snarled.

“I know what I’m doing hyung, just…. Don’t disturb us. And make sure everyone here knows that she’s open for business.” It was loud enough to carry through the club and I felt humiliation burn my throat, acrid like acid.

I froze in disbelief.

“Jungkook …” Hoseok’s voice held a tone of reproach.

“ And tell them that her body is amazing. Tell them she spent the night with me , the best fuck I’ve ever had , mouth made for cock.”

I stared straight ahead as he pulled me all the way to the room we had left earlier and I tripped when he shoved me inside, landing on my hands and knees . I quickly rolled back around to land on my ass, crawling back as he slammed the door shut and locked it from the inside.

He stared down at me, mouth grim.

“You do owe me a wedding night. I was so ready to fuck your tight cunt, nine years ago… I think I’ve waited long enough yeah.”

I stared at him in disbelief. I knew exactly what he wanted me to do, to yell and scream and protest and fight so he could get off and forcing me…. Fucking psychopath.

I took a deep breath and nodded.

“If you pay for my sister in laws bills, and give me an apartment sure. “ I shrugged. “You’re not any different from any of the bastards here. I don’t give a damn which one of you idiots wants to rut into me like the absolute animal that you are…. I don’t care…” I said softly.

“you don’t? Really? You want me to tell you what your brother said when one of my men put a gun into his mouth…. He begged for his life…said he had a kid on the way….” Jungkook laughed, shaking his head. “I told him it was better than what his father did…. My sister was six months pregnant when his lieutenant gunned her down on the streets.”

I shuddered, wrapping my arms around myself.

“Why are you telling me this…” I snapped.

“Because she didn’t deserve it did she, Elena? She didn’t fucking deserve to die like that , like a dog on the street when she had nothing to do with any of this…. She didn’t deserve it.” He growled, bending down and gripping my chin hard.

“Maybe she did deserve it.” I spat out. “ If I deserve to be here, maybe your sister deserved to die too. “

He snarled, hand flying to my hair and dragging me up off the floor in one sharp yank. I whimpered as he pushed me on the bed, before climbing on top of me. I felt like every bone in my body was about to snap in two, the weight of him unbearable on me.

“I won the bid tonight…. I won it fair and square… You signed the waiver didn’t you…that you agreed to the auction…I won and I’m going to fucking collect.” He growled, and I kicked out, trying to buck him off of my body.

“Get off me.” I hissed. “ I’m not letting you fuck me for 500 won.”

“How about for your Jisoo then?” He whispered and I went still.

“What?”

He chuckled, reaching down and I felt my pulse pound as he pulled his phone out, dialing quickly and turning on the speakers.

Yoongi’s voice made me go ice cold. Everyone knew what Yoongi did for Jungkook.

“Daehwan’s wife is in a hospital room in Yongsan. Hobi’s got the details. I think she’s served her purpose.”

“No!! JUNGKOOK NO!!” I screamed , thrashing so hard my head began to spin but he grunted pressing down into me harder.

“Are you serious? I’m not home yet… I can take care of it tonight.” Yoongi said, voice casual and I sobbed, shaking my head in sheer terror.

“Okay… I’ll behave.. I promise.. please just don’t…”

Jungkook hummed.

“Well, that was easy… Yoongi-yah… why don’t you stay on the phone yeah…. Going to get that wedding night I’m owed and if my baby doesn’t co operate you know what to do, yeah?”

I bit my lips, glaring into the sheets as he gripped my waist, pulling me up.

“Ass up like the bitch that you are, baby.” He whispered and I felt my entire body shudder in disgust. It was worse because I hadn’t done this before. Didn’t know what to expect. But I couldn’t let him know that. If Jungkook knew that I was a virgin, I could just imagine how much fun he’d have with that info.

Hands gripped my wrists, pinning them to the bed and I turned my face away when I felt the press of his lips on my cheeks. He gripped both my wrists with one hand, keeping them pinned over my head and I flinched when I felt his fingers pulling the fabric of my panties aside, just enough for the blunt head of his cock to press against my slit.

“Yoongi, you there?” Jungkook said softly and Yoongi grunted over the phone. I felt my face flame in embarrassment.

“You’re a sick bastard but I’m used to it. What’s up?” he said casually.

“Remember how we used to wonder just how tight Elena’s cunt was… back when we were in school.”

Fucking monster, I thought in disbelief. I hate him I hate him I hate him….

“Good times…” Yoongi chuckled lightly .

Jungkook pushed into me in one hard thrust and pain shot straight up my spine, my insides burning like he’d fucked me with a knife and not his body. I couldn’t stop the cry of agony that got torn of me, my eyes tearing up and tears spilling over onto my cheeks.

“Damn Jungkook, she okay?” Yoongi’s chuckle made me want to claw his face off, and just the urge to kill was growing inside me.

“Well, I can confirm that it is, in fact just as tight as we thought…” He grunted, thrusting into me at a pace that was inhumane, every push and drag of him rubbing my insides raw and I bit down on the sheets under me, afraid that I would do something absolutely humiliating, like beg him to stop.

“Good, you should let me take that tight ass for a ride someday then. With her permission of course…. I’m a gentleman after all. Big on consent.” He laughed and I swallowed the urge to tell him that I would puncture his balls with a switchblade if he came anywhere near me.

“Oh, she’s going to do whatever I ask her to….aren’t you baby…” He grunted, “ Turn around so I can see you.”

He pulled out of me, his weight lifting off my body as he moved away. I couldn’t move, limbs numb and insides throbbing in pain . His palm landed on my thigh, hard and the sharp sting of it made me jump.

“I said turn around, I want to see your face when I fuck you.” Jungkook growled. I stayed limp, breathing hard and he grunted impatient, fingers sinking into my hair , yanking me to my knees and the movement made my legs scream in protest.

“How’s she so quiet? You fucked the voice out of her, kook-ah?” Yoongi asked amused and Jungkook pulled me by the hair, dragging me to the center and pushing me down till my head landed on the pillow.

“Hyung you should see her right now, all fucked out …. Like she’s never had a dick in her before.” He shook his head, “ Fucking slut. Take that off and hold yourself open for me.”

I stared at him, uncomprehending and he grabbed both my hands, placing them on my knees.

“Grab your knees and pull your legs back… So I can fuck that tight cunt the way I want to.” He said slowly, like I was a dog he was trying to train and I stared at him , defiantly.

“ Go to hell.” I whispered.

Yoongi’s laughter came from somewhere to the right.

“Your dirty talk needs work, Kook ah… Tell her she’s a precious little kitten and she makes you feel really good…. Bitches love that shit…”

Jungkook hovered over me, grabbing the back of my thighs and spreading them wide enough to make me whimper in pain.

“Is that so babygirl? You want me to tell you that? That you make daddy’s cock feel good?” He cooed, nudging the tip against me again and I had never hated anyone so much in my life. I stared up at his face, and he smiled at me, a cheeky little grin that made his bunny teeth stand out and for a second he looked so deceptively angelic and the glimmer of his piercing caught my eye.

I couldn’t help but swallow, gaze trained on the glint of metal on his tongue.

“You like that?” He grinned suddenly, sticking his tongue out for me to see, I felt my eyes widen at how sinfully good he looked .” Hyung she likes my tongue piercing.”

“Show her how it feels on her clit.” Yoongi laughed and I could barely fully process what I heard before Jungkook was crawling down my body, arms, curling on my thighs and yanking me onto his tongue .

I felt the press of his tongue on my slit, licking right into me and the jolt of pleasure was so unexpected, the pleasure so unwanted and yet so overwhelming and I couldn’t stop the way my body thrashed against the streets, lips parted as I practically mewled out in pleasure.

“Definitely a kitten…” Yoongi called out and I shuddered as Jungkook slipped two fingers into me , the ice cold press of his ring inside me making me jump. I wanted to pull away, grab his hair and yank him off but I couldn’t because it was

“Next time I’ll put the dick piercing in too, yeah? Fuck you with a bit of metal on my cock so you can feel that up there…. ” He laughed into my thighs and I screamed when he bit into the flesh there , hard.

“I’m getting bored… Either turn on facetime so I can at least jerk off to this , or I’m hanging up…” Yoongi called out .

“Hyung she clenches down on me every time she hears your voice… Just stay on for a few more minutes yeah, she tastes so fucking good, I’m gonna cum soon….” Jungkook added another finger, slipping in deep before spreading them apart inside me. I whimpered when he pushed his tongue in between the wet digits, licking into my walls and I could feel the ball of his piercing drag against my walls, ice cold and hard.

Was it fucked up that I did clench down on him again, my body apparently a slave to my base desires even as my mind screamed that he was the absolute worst bastard on the face of the planet.

“Elena, you owe me a blowjob at least for this…” Yoongi called out and I glared at the phone.

“I’ll bite your fucking dick off if you come anywhere near me.” I snapped.

“Fuck, I could get off just to that mouthy fuckhole of hers…..” Yoongi grunted.

Jungkook pulled away, climbing back up over me and lightly slapping my breasts.

“Now, how about you open that mouth and let me fuck it?”

Yoongi snorted from behind us and Jungkook glared at the phone before glaring at me again.

“Well?”

“You want to know how hard I can bite?” I said sharply, the pleasure ebbing away into nothing and resentment taking it place, the momentarily physicality of the situation fading and the reminder of who he was and who I was entering my sex addled brain.

“No.. You’re right…. But you know what, I’m not feeling it anymore. I was right.. you really aren’t qualified to be my whore. Your body…it’s frigid like a fucking popsicle…such a fucking turn off. ” He reached over and hung up on the phone.

“Now…”he whispered, leaning in closer and I yelped, when his fingers closed over my throat..” Shut your mouth and take what I give you like a grateful bitch.”

I swallowed when he pushed into me again, his pace steady as he fucked into me, eyes closed and I realized that he was almost fully dressed having just unbuttoned himself enough to get his cock out.

When he stiffened, spilling into me his eyes blew open and he locked eyes with me, wide eyed and for one horrible second he looked young and vulnerable and hurt.

I blinked as he pulled out, the sticky warm mess of his cum dripping down my inner thighs and onto the sheets.

“Well, that was much worse than I thought it would be.” He said and I stayed on the bed as he grabbed his phone and buttoned himself back up.

He smirked at me and then reached into his pocket.

I quickly pulled myself together, ignoring the aches and pains and getting to my knees before reaching for my dress on the bed. it was kind of pointless because I still had Hoseok’s shirt on and I wasn’t going to take that off in front of Jungkook.

“Well, I’m a man of my word , Elena so…here you go..just as we discussed.” He tossed a coin on the bed and I stared at the engraved 500 on the shiny surface, feeling my rage swell inside me.

“If you still want to work out a payment plan for your sister’s bills …. Why don’t you come to my office tomorrow?” He tossed his card on the bed before moving away to the door.

Fucking bastard.

Author’s note : My whole life is filled with regrets .

#jungkook smut #bts smut #ts fics #jungkook fics #bts fanfic #jungkook mafia au #bts mafia au

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professorthaddeus · 4 years ago

Text

Mother, Father. This will be my final letter.

You know, I used to find the two of you everywhere. I would see the love I betrayed in the faces of families who are whole. I would hear your terrified screams in laughter. I would see your bodies twisted in agony in the flickering of a campfire. I would feel your blood on my hands every time I cast a spell.

I would find you everywhere, and so I held fast to the possibility that I would bring you back.

Today, I relinquished the chance of it ever becoming a reality.

I could have gone back and saved you. It would have worked. There were puzzle pieces in that chamber that I would have clicked into place; there was magic buried in those relics that I would have unlocked and unleashed.

I would have joined the ranks of mages of myth. I could have unraveled everything.

The chamber is nothing but ashes now.

I still find the two of you everywhere. Your dreams for my potential are in the spells I learned from Essek. Your hope for the Empire is in Beauregard’s pen as she fights for our people, stroke by stroke. Your love is in the grin that Veth shines on her son when he fires a toy crossbow at the ass of a local shopkeeper.

I miss you. I love you. I am sorry.

I hope I can still make you proud.

Caleb closes that worn, leather-bound book for the last time. Tucks it back beneath his arm, stands, walks to the entryway of his tower. His hand shakes as he reaches for the handle.

Well, you and the Nein got me to the door. Now I have to walk through it.

He takes a deep breath, then takes his first step outside.

He arrives in Blumenthal alone, visits their graves, leaves his letters in the ground.

And he gets to work. But in this, he is not alone.

Beauregard is there, matching every armload of books he carries with two of her own. They spend their days compiling records and narratives, wielding the truth both in court and behind the scenes—children of the Empire leaving their home better than they found it for the children who will come after them, just as they always vowed.

What wasn’t planned is this: a couple times every week, Beauregard drags Caleb out of the library. They teleport to a remote cottage in a location that few are privy to, where Yasha will have started preparing the ingredients for a new recipe from Caduceus. The instructions are often passed through a jumbled chain of Jester’s messages, and there always seem to be a suspicious number of bugs included for supposedly vegetarian dishes, but they make it work all the same. On more than a few occasions, Caleb plays referee while Beauregard and Yasha spar, safe in the knowledge that their attacks are of their own free will and they will never truly harm each other again.

Jester and Fjord spend much of their time on the open sea, but Jester’s voice is never far from Caleb’s ear. She tells him of everything from her newest tattoo victim to an encounter with a dragon turtle with a grudge, from a shanty about dicks she came up with on the fly to an update on a young half-orc girl Fjord has taken under his wing. Every once in a while, Jester will demand a reunion, too. Some of them are out of necessity—such as when Uk’otoa finally comes knocking and Fjord can no longer sail the other away—but many are not. They meet in Nicodranas when the Nein Heroez docks for a pastry run, they meet in Hupperdook for a night packed with drinking contests and celebone sticks and hugs for Kiri, they meet on Rumblecusp when life becomes too much and the nine of them sorely need to fuck off to a vacation. Soon, even Darktow is open to them, once Kingsley has unseated the Plank King and lifted their ban from the island. His reign is long, and it is magnificent. Until he grows bored.

Caduceus joins them for every mandated reunion, but for the most part, he tends to his garden or explores the world on his own. But he is never out of reach, and when he does not come to the rest of them, they go to him. It is not uncommon for Caleb to arrive in the Blooming Grove to see Beauregard already meditating by the pond. Other times, Fjord will be there drinking tea with Caduceus, and the three of them will share a quiet conversation, each far more secure in their words than they’d been over fish and chips all those years ago. Often it is just Caduceus and his parents and siblings, and Caleb will be invited to a family dinner in a home that Ikithon could not burn down.

Veth remains a constant in Caleb’s life. Of course she does. Sometimes, when the two of them are teaching the neighborhood kids how to point a copper wire, or reminiscing over a glass of sherry, or simply talking while she weaves flowers into his hair on the beaches of Nicodranas, he’ll think back to his old fears of losing her to her family and laugh. After all, how could such a thing be possible when he is a part of her family himself?

There are others, too.

Countless students who pass under his tutelage and grow into young mages who know that power should be used to protect, not to manipulate. A cat—well, there are many cats, but there is one in particular that Caleb does not own, a snowy white fey cat who slinks in and out of his classroom as he pleases, whose eyes seem to flash when the Martinet arrives to have a word, who settles into place around Caleb’s shoulders with a purr when the rare nightmare returns.

An unexpected kinship with Yeza, forged at first through mutual respect and an understanding in their love for Veth, but eventually growing into a friendship in its own right. It is one that unfolds in quiet nights by stacks of books, in gleeful debates when comparing notes on magic and alchemy, in exhausted evenings watching over Luc together while Veth takes a girls’ night out to cause some chaos with Jester, Beauregard, and Yasha.

His old friends, who, try as they might, never seem able to sever the threads that have always tangled their fates together. It is Eadwulf who comes around first, with the silent offering of a bottle and a grim smile as he and Caleb crumble the bricks of Vergesson to dust. Astrid takes time. It makes sense—she has always been a fantastic dancer, and for a while, it appears they will be trapped in a precarious political tango forever, stepping around each other in their roles as the Archmage of Civil Influence and a simple teacher who may or may not be practicing treason in his classroom. But in the shadows, Astrid pulls a few strings to keep Caleb out of prison. Caleb hears a rumor and sends the might of the Cobalt Soul after a colleague who wants Astrid dead. And eventually, she begins joining him and Wulf on their evening walks through the streets of Rexxentrum. They return to the dance hall. They get lunch. They share memories, relearn each other’s old scars, and discover that solace can still be found in each other the way it was when they were children. It will always be complicated. It starts to become beautiful.

And of course, floating by Caleb’s side every step of the way is Essek, a drow who has learned to curb his ambition and care for others, who has decided to make his own amends. The former Shadowhand to the Bright Queen, who now spends his days picking up cupcakes for Jester in Uthodurn, planting seeds in the Blooming Grove. Sitting in on Caleb’s lessons with a different face each week, sketching runes into the floor of Caleb’s home amongst scattered papers and spell components, curling up on a couch beside Caleb and begrudgingly getting through Tusk Love because he promised. A traitor, a hero, a lifelong friend. A steadfast love.

So when Caleb Widogast arrives at the final page of his story, he is no longer shrouded in guilt, or grief, or regret. No, he is surrounded by the warmth of his chosen family when he takes his last breath, when time has run its course and he is finally ready to meet his parents again.

(And even before he sees their faces, he knows. He knows he made them proud.)

—————

also on ao3 | my other cr fics

#critical role #caleb widogast #mighty nein #empire siblings #shadowgast #blumendrei #cr spoilers #c2e141 #this is very delayed because i've been too busy to sit down and finish it until now and it's kind of a mess #buuut here tumblr have half my feelings about the finale and the nein crammed into one fic #my writing #my ramblings #c2 epilogue #cr fic

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strawberrylemonz · 4 years ago

Text

A Mother for Two

Welcome to the continuation! As always, time to dedicate these chapters! Hope you all enjoy, especially @applepie1000

@petrichormeraki I will fist fight you lmaooo /j

Part 3

Part 4 [CURRENT]

Part 5

------------

“You two sure you have everything you need?”

“We’re sure, Xisuma, jeez. It’s not like we’re leaving for good, we’ll be back by tonight.”

Grian snickered as Tommy was swiftly swatted on the backside of his head by Xisuma. Huffing, the boy griped as the group walked over to the portal leading to the Hub. As Xisuma gave the two another look over, Grian finally spoke up.

“Tommy and I will be just fine. We’ll just set up the fliers, get supplies, get our asses back here. Done, easy work.”

“Yeah, easy work!”

“Nothing is easy work when the two of you are together for too long. Just don’t cause too much trouble, nothing more than usual.”

After bidding farewell to Xisuma, the two boys walked into the portal. Instantly, voices chatting with each other filled the silence. The two stepped out of the portal and into the Hub. Players of all kinds here entering and leaving several portals. As the two made their way through the portal transportation section, Tommy examined all the portals.

Hermitcraft

Stampy’s Lovely World

Pixelmon

MCC

Hypixel

Cops and Robbers

There were so many portals to so many places. He had only been through the Hub to get to MCC. He was always focused on getting to his destination that he didn’t stop to look closely at every other portal around him. Stopping in his tracks, he stared at a ruined portal. It was grand and beautiful, but falling apart. It was cracked and broken, no longer activated. The giant sign above it proudly held it’s name, keeping the world from being forgotten.

SMP EARTH

Grian was walking when he felt something off. Turning around, he noticed that Tommy wasn’t following him. Tilting his head and looking around, he saw that Tommy was just standing there, staring. Excusing himself as he pushed passed the crowd, he eventually made his way to his brother. Before he could get onto his brother for immediately separating from him, he saw what his brother was looking at. Making a humming noise, he nudged Tommy before pulling out a large banner. Tommy nodded in understanding, and helped Grian unravel the banner. Working with haste, the two strung up the banner on the inactive portal. Once it was secured, they stood back and admired their work.

GRAND OPENING!!!!

HERMITCRAFT PROUDLY PRESENTS:

INNIT AN ADVENTURE?!

We, in Hermitcraft, happily invite you to join us in the opening day of our latest amusement park, Innit an Adventure! Created by our very own TommyInnit, we encourage you to spend the day with us! Come join us as we make unforgettable memories! Keep an eye out for festival week, and join us for a wonderful night of dancing!

Are you innit with us?

“Looks great!”

“Of course it does, we made it.”

“Yeah yeah, lets just finish the set up.”

Smiling, the two boys set up two podiums underneath the banner. Taking out a good amount of pamphlets and fliers, they neatly set them down on the podiums. Content, the two began to walk away from the portal as people began to stop at the ruin, murmuring in excitement for the adventure park.

“This is going to be a success, I can already tell you that. Good job, baby brother.”

The two laughed as they made their way through the portal Hub. Grian noticed some people he recognized and waved them over, already pulling pamphlets out of his bag. Tommy laughed as he looked around, fliers in hand, searching for anyone who was willing to get one. That’s when he saw it. Gulping, he quietly walked up to a neon green portal.

DREAM SMP

Reading the sign attached to the portal, Tommy saw that only whitelisted people could enter. He was whitelisted. He could walk in, right now, and possibly lose his final life tied to the world. Shaking his head, he snapped himself out of his thoughts and scoffed at them. He liked it in Hermitcraft, he didn’t want to leave it for a terrible past. He didn’t have to worry about permanently dying in Hermitcraft. He didn’t have to worry about losing his shit or having said shit used against him.

“Although...”

As Tommy mumbled to himself, he eventually came to a final decision. Nodding to himself, he crumbled a couple fliers and chucked them into the portal, sending them to the SMP. It was common knowledge that, even though people couldn’t enter, they could send items. With the fliers crumbled up, it would appear as if random passerby’s just threw trash in, making it easy for Tommy to deny inviting them.

Tommy knew that he didn’t want to go back to his past, that much was crystal clear. But what was stopping his past from going to him? If they missed him as if and wanted to see him again, they would need to make the effort. Humming with approval, he walked over to Grian, who was finishing talking to his acquaintances.

“Hey, big man, maybe we should send some of the fliers and pamphlets into the portals.”

Grian thought for a bit, before nodding in agreement. Taking half of Tommy’s fliers, Grian gave him half of his pamphlets. Nudging towards the main server, he explained his plan.

“I’ll handle the portals and the travelers, okay? You go out and hang up banners and set up more podiums. Meet me at Feast Street for lunch, okay?”

“Okay, okay, calm down. I can do this, I’m not useless.”

“Far from it. See you later, Toms, love you.”

Tommy stood in silence, watching his brother walk away. His brother’s proclamation of love had caught him by surprise. A smile formed on his face as a warm feeling bursted through his chest. Looking around, he found some crates nearby. Standing on them, he inhaled before hollering out.

“GRIAN!”

He saw his brother turn around, confused. He felt his face flush as a couple of strangers faced him as well. Ignoring them, he yelled out in confidence through the crowd.

“LOVE YOU TOO, BIG BROTHER!”

He saw Grian laugh, a big smile painted on his face. The two exchanged waves of goodbyes before turning their separate ways, ignoring the cooing noises from the crowd. Tommy laughed as he situated his satchel. Nodding, he made his way down to the capital city.

--------

Things were going great for Tommy. Do take note of the use of past tense, just pointing that out there. Now, Tommy was being scolded as if he were a child again. For Nether’s sake, he was 18! Yet, here he was, being scolded for something he didn’t do.

“I swear that I didn’t do shit!”

“Then why are you being so defensive?”

“Because you’re accusing me of crap that I didn’t even do!”

Apparently, according to the stupid shopkeeper that was currently giving him a hard time, some kids were going around and stealing stuff from the shelves. Due to the stress, the shopkeeper immediately accused Tommy of being apart of that group of kids. She wouldn’t let him leave, even after he explained himself. So there he stood, feeling like a helpless child once again.

“Is something the matter?”

Tommy turned to see a petite woman standing behind the shopkeeper, arms crossed. Despite her height, or lack of it, she seemed very intimidating. At least, that’s what the shopkeeper seemed to believe.

“Oh, ma’am, my apologies! I was just reprimanding this deli-”

“My son. You’re reprimanding my son.”

“Son???”

“SON??? WHAT???”

“What is she doing?”

“NEW PARENT POG???”

“Huhhhhhh??????”

“FINALLY OBTAINING A MOTHER, POG???”

“MUMZA???”

“MOTHERINNIT???”

Tommy perked up at this, peering over at the lady once more. The shopkeeper seemed flabbergasted at how blunt the woman was with her. The woman, however, stayed firm with her stance and gaze.

“You’re son, ma’am?”

“Yes, my son. How many times do I need to repeat myself? I sent him in here to buy some fresh fruit to snack on before lunch, but I now see that was a mistake.”

“W-Wait, no! Ma’am, I didn’t-”

“We will find a different shop to go buy fruit at, instead. Do think about things before acting. Here,”

The woman grabbed a flier and a pamphlet from Tommy, handing it to the shopkeeper.

“You can make things up to both me and my son by telling shoppers about this. Now, we shall take our leave. Come on, dear.”

The woman held her hand out to Tommy, who nodded his head and took it. She led him out of the store and to the street, ignoring the apologies coming from the shopkeeper. Once they were a good distance away, she let go.

“Sorry about that, but you seemed stuck with her hounding you like that. I was going to ask for a flier or pamphlet, but figured I should help you instead.”

Tommy blinked a few times before laughing alongside the woman. Chat was laughing alongside them, taking a liking to the mysterious woman who had saved their little pogchamp.

“Ah, I should introduce myself. I’m Kristin, very nice to meet you! I’m originally from SMP Earth, but I somehow ended up here many years ago.”

“SMP Earth? Holy shit, I’m from there, too! I’m Tommy, by the way. Well, my actual name is Thomas, but everyone calls me Tommy. I’m from Business Bay, but I eventually became the youngest prince of the Antarctic Empire.”

“Youngest prince? Are you Phil’s brother?”

“What? Nah, he adopted me as his son.”

Tommy was startled as the woman, Kristin, began choking on air. Alarmed, he pat her back as he gave her a water bottle he had on him. After a while, she raised her hand and nodded, indicating that she was okay.

“Wow, he has a son. The world is ending, hah.”

“Four, actually. He has four sons.”

“Oh my god, I’m going to have a heart attack.”

Tommy laughed before asking what was on his mind. Judging by the breezy feeling that moved across his starry face, he knew that Clara led this woman to him.

“How do you know Phil?”

Kristin’s face brightened up as a small blush painted her cheeks.

“Er, how about I tell you about it as we walk?”

“Better yet, why don’t you tell me and my older brother about it over lunch?”

--------

Grian was not expecting Tommy to come back with an older woman. He didn’t mind, however, after hearing how she saved his brother from the shopkeeper’s rage. Laughing, he ruffled the younger boy’s hair.

“Haha, you found a mother!”

“We’re brothers, so wouldn’t that make her our mother? Sheesh, dumbass.”

Kristin laughed out loud in the background, holding her stomach and she doubled over. Tommy happily smiled, very glad to have someone appreciate his language. Once they all gave proper introductions and a reason as to why Kristin was with them, they all got food and sad down at one of the outside tables. After getting a few decent bites into their meals, Tommy spoke up.

“So, how do you know Phil?”

“Ah, yes, that old fart-”

She smiled as both boys snorted at that statement. Taking a bite out her bread roll, she waited for them to settle down before. Nodding her head, she continued.

“It’s true, he is! Anyways, I knew him when I lived back on SMP Earth. I was, well, am the princess of a smaller kingdom back there. Phil’s parents had started a small kingdom of their own, the Antarctic Empire. My parents, along with his, arranged for the two of us to be married to one another. I would have usually thrown a fit at an arranged marriage, like I always did when they brought up suitors, but Phil and I actually liked each other, so we agreed. I disappeared before the wedding, however, fell through my mirror and into a hardcore world. Once I made it out of there, I ended up here. Been here ever since.”

Grian started choking out of surprise. Tommy and Kristin both moved quickly to help him, worried. Once he gave them a sign that he was okay, he adjusted himself.

“You’re Queen Kristin?”

“Queen?”

“Yeah. I read it in one of the books in the archive when I was younger. Although you disappeared, you were still married to my dad, and the two kingdoms were merged into one.”

“What?”

Kristin stared at Grian, confusion and disbelief painted her face. Suddenly, she groaned and hit her head against the table.

“This explains why some of the things I bought took way too long to finalize! My last name has been Minecraft this entire time!”

Tommy and Grian shared a look of disbelief. This was the only thing she was concerned about? Being married to Phil wasn’t troubling or shocking news to her at all! Suddenly, Tommy’s eyes widened as he gasped, pointing at Kristin.

“WHAT THE FUCK?! THAT MAKES YOU MY ACTUAL MOTHER.”

--------

Kristin helped them finish setting up banners and podiums. She also aided them in passing out fliers and pamphlets to passing people. Once they ran out, she walked them over to the Hub. As they stood at the entrance portal to Hermitcraft, Tommy hugged Kristin, who ran her fingers through her head. She may have been new to the whole mother thing, but her caring instincts were enough to comfort the young boy.

“I wish I could come, I really do, but I’m not on the list. I’ll have to wait until opening day.”

Before Tommy could whine, Grian spoke up.

“What if we got you on the list? Would you move in, then?”

Kristin laughed as she pat Grian’s shoulder, a smile painting her face.

“Of course! I just found out I had family! You guys aren’t getting rid of me that easily. Here, take this. If you guys get me on the list, use this to get to my house.”

Tommy brightened up as he was given a compass labeled Kristin. He nodded as Grian promised.

“Bye Kristin! See you around!”

“Bye Tommy, Grian, I’ll see you two soon.”

The boys watched as she walked away, a pep in her step as disappeared into the crowd. Nodding to each other, Tommy and Grian went home.

#memories in the stars au #memories in the stars #hermit!tommy au #Mumza #Mumza has entered the game #kristin minecraft

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regina-del-cielo · 4 years ago

Text

Immortal Siblings AU | Four, then three, then four again

I mentioned that the bulletpoint post describing how the Guard from the Immortal Siblings AU found Joe had totally run away from me. It has, in fact, become a study on them grieving over Lykon and then finding Yusuf.

I have, somehow, reached a sort of natural end to the amount of bullshit my mind can add to this list/fic draft. So, if you want to give it a read... grab a snack. It’s long. I’m sorry.

Warnings for Wikipedia levels of historical accuracy - I added links to the relevant pages when quoting historical events, but since I was just trying to work out a timeline (famous last words), the research wasn’t extensive. There’s a lot of hand-waving.

By the end of the 11th Century, I think Andy, Quynh and Nico haven’t been in Europe for a while, not really. They moved south, and then east, after the sack of Rome of 410 CE. Seeing the great cities fall has become hard for them, especially for Nico, who is a nomad at heart but has a soft spot for cities, together with Lykon, the true city boy in the group. He’d seen it happen to Athens, he wasn’t sure he could deal with seeing Rome wilt.

For reasons I cannot fathom, my mind is settled on them having been in India when Lykon dies (possibly sometime around the middle of the 6th century, in the mess that was the crumbling of the Gupta Empire???)

Seeing him die destroys them, and they take a break from any battlefield to grieve their friend and brother. They wander, occasionally helping but almost never raising their weapons, too leery of injuries and of losing each other.

(Quynh, who was the first to notice Lykon’s wounds, has nightmares that make her cry in her sleep. Andromache holds her so tight Nico can feel the tension on her muscles against his back. He and his sister barely sleep, scared of the open spaces of Asia as they’d never been before. Lykon was the youngest of them and he died, what if they stop healing too?)

(If Nico stands guard over his sisters and feels an ache in his chest seeing how they hold onto each other, he’s never going to say it out loud. His Mache deserves the love she shares with Quynh. But sometimes he wishes he had someone to hold him like that, one he can call his heart.)

The first time they go to battle again like in the old days it’s almost the end of the 10th century, and they’re helping Quynh’s lands gain independence from China. They have a reason and a specific side to root for, and it’s the kind of cause Lykon would have approved of. They find purpose again.

They are distantly aware of how things are holding up in the west – they know Constantinople has crowned itself capital of the Roman Empire (what is left of it anyway); they know of the new religion, Islam, and how it was brought further east with the armies conquering Persia. They met the Varangians on the Northern Plains of the Rus’, when Andy insisted on going back to their steppes for a while.

They acquire new swords, repair the old weapons, make improvements on their bows. They travel, and help, and listen. They learn new languages. They heal.

They’ve just spent the winter in Samarkand when they hear merchants newly come from Constantinople talk about the Frankish armies that took Antioch and making their way further into Palestine.

The words ‘freeing Jerusalem from the infidels’ make Andy sigh in exasperation and twist Nico’s guts. The three of them don’t really understand the point of going to war for a god, but Jerusalem is old, and she’s been coveted by many throughout their long lives. Things like this never end well, they know it intimately.

But they’ve been away for a long time, centuries at this point. Things are very different from when the Romans had the power. They are less eager to throw themselves into the battlefield now, and there’s much they don’t know about the dynamics of Europe and the Levant. Still they’re worried, and decide that they’ll move west to see if something can be done, for the civilians at least.

At first they travel slowly, keeping an ear out for gossip spoken by the caravans coming from the west. Things radically change, however, when they dream of a new immortal (a man, with a curly black beard and shining dark eyes) dying on the walls of Jerusalem and reviving to an unprecedented slaughter – said man is, obviously, absolutely terrified and they feel it.

He’s also woken up surrounded by living enemies, with high risk of being killed or injured multiple times, and of being seen.

They are still too far away to do anything more than hope that the new guy is clever enough to keep himself alive until they can reach him, but now Nico is all for moving west at full speed to get him out.

“What the everloving FUCK is happening over there?!” is the common theme in their thoughts; nothing about this war they’re walking towards is making any sense.

Yusuf al-Kaysani is, in fact, clever enough to keep himself (and a few other civilians to boot) alive and get out of Jerusalem when it becomes clear than no matter how many Franks he kills he can do nothing to stop them alone. (It’s a fucking carnage, and he’s so tired). He walks away from the battle and tries to reach some sort of safety in the desert.

When he’d decided to stay in Jerusalem and fight instead of escaping the siege, Yusuf had considered the possibility of dying. He had not accounted for waking up from a fatal wound with no sign of having been hit in the first place.

And then there are the visions. Or dreams, he’s not sure. They don’t seem to make any sense? Who are those people?! Is his mind so addled by the war that he’s conjuring scary warrior women and a stupidly handsome man, armed to the teeth and camping in the desert?

(fantasizing about handsome men in his sleep isn’t exactly news for him, but there were never women in those. And none of his usual dreams involved weapons. Something is definitely off)

For the following days, Yusuf makes sure to stay away from human settlements while putting as much space as possible between Jerusalem and himself – the last thing he needs is to become a potential target for any invader that may cross his path.

But he’s alone, having nightmares, constantly on edge, and in a body that suddenly doesn’t feel like his own anymore, since he doesn’t even have the scars to prove that the injuries he sustained were real to begin with.

After a couple of weeks, the appearance of the strangers in his dreams starts feeling safe and comforting; they seem to operate like a little family, and God knows how much he misses his own.

(should he try to go back home? Would news of the siege reach his family before he does? Would he be able to go back to his previous life in the state he’s in? Could he keep this secret from them? Would they still love him or think him a monster?)

Despite their impressive warrior appearance, they feel... kind. And gentle. Sometimes, it feels like they’re trying to reassure him, even. Especially when he dreams from the perspective of the man.

The sensation those dreams leave on his skin is like a cape. You’re not alone, it whispers. Wait for us.

Andy, Quynh and Nico have just left Baghdad when the dreams change, and not for the better - Yusuf was passing through a village when a band of marauding Franks started harassing the locals. He moved to defend the villagers, but was overwhelmed and what’s worse, the Franks saw his wounds close too fast. Their reaction was vehement: they called him a demon, incapacitated him and then brought him back to their garrison, with every intention of ‘properly getting rid of him’.

Nico wakes up screaming and Andy has to sit on him so he doesn’t just sprint ahead without actually knowing where the fuck he’s going.

“We can’t just raid every single Frankish encampment in a twenty mile radius around Jerusalem, Nico!” “TRY ME” *Aggressive Sibling Bickering follows* *Quynh doesn’t bat an eye and just rolls out a map of the area she purchased and starts mapping out the fastest routes*

Yusuf is having a Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week at the hands of his captors, who are getting disturbingly creative in their tortures, but whenever they let him fall unconscious he sees the people of his dreams travelling much faster than before, looking Royally Pissed Off, and the surroundings are... starting to look familiar too?

If he tries to pay more attention to the conversations his torturers are having with each other outside of the tent he’s in and hoping the dreams go both ways, so the maybe-real trio can find him easier, now that’s nobody’s business but his own.

(spoiler: it works)

When they are in sight of Jerusalem, the immortals find a drunk “pilgrim” boasting about his band capturing a ‘pagan demon’ while coming back from their victory at Ascalon, follow him back to his camp, and as soon as it’s feasible they attack.

(Andy will later gripe that Nico didn’t leave her anything to do because he just paved his way through the Franks like he was harvesting wheat.)

seeing the Stupidly Handsome Man of his dreams standing in front of him covered head to toe in blood, with a double-bladed axe in one hand and a sword in the other, staring intensely at him as if to peer directly into his soul is... an experience for Yusuf.

(he may have composed a lot of poems about that first vision of Nico through the centuries. The words ‘avenging angel’ have been used quite profusely, too)

The protective instinct that Nico has felt for the newest immortal since the first dream clutches at his throat when he finally sees him, chained to a pole and so thin his clothes barely cling to his body, but with the softest dark eyes staring back with a glint of recognition when he comes closer.

(he could cry with relief at the knowledge that he’s not scared of him. Nico has seen the faces of the men that were keeping him captive, he knows he looks a lot like they did, and that he paints a gruesome picture.)

“Are you alright?” Nico asks first, in Greek. (He knows, from the dreams, that his captors prayed in Latin. He wants to make sure that the other knows that he’s not like them.)

“You were in my dreams. You came.” Yusuf answers back in the same language, although his sounds much newer than Nico’s.

“Of course. We’re not meant to be alone… and no one deserves to be in a cage”.

Nico uses the axe to break the chains, and by the time he’s done Andy and Quynh have reached them and his sister throws the keys at him to open the shackles.

“Couldn’t take a moment to get them yourself, little eagle? You wanted to show off your skills to the new one?” Quynh teases, just to see Nico blush. Andy stares at her brother and their new companion for a few beats, before finally asking his name.

“Yusuf ibn Ibrahim ibn Muhammad Al-Kaysani, known as al-Tayyib” he answers, letting out the first smile in weeks at the raising eyebrows of his saviours. “Just Yusuf is fine.”

“You have a sense of humour, brother. I like you!” Andy snorts, before cutting her palm with the edge of her axe, and showing him her fast healing.

“We are like you, Yusuf. That’s why you dreamt of us, and we of you” Nico adds gently, while Quynh offers her waterskin to Yusuf. They also offer their own names.

“We need to clean up this mess and move away from here” Andy says, while Nico helps Yusuf up. “One of those fuckers was boasting about an undying demon with others in a tavern, the last thing we need is to fight our way out against their whole army because someone else decided to come check if he was saying the truth.”

“It’s been a long time since we were in Kush” Quynh whispers, and Yusuf sees their faces open in a look of affectionate grief he remembers seeing on his Baba’s eyes when he talked about his own mother.

“We can talk about it more when we’re somewhere safer” Andromache suggests, before moving to set up the stage of an ‘accidental’ fire.

As they’re riding away, Yusuf turns slightly to watch the camp burn, leaving no trace of the invaders that hurt him. Jerusalem looms in the distance - lost, and wounded. If he were a little less exhausted, he could easily work out a metaphor about his own situation.

But then he looks at the three people of his dreams – Quynh, Andromache, Nikolaos – that came for him. Who are the same as him, immortal.

His world has turned upside down, and there are so many questions to ask, and he could sleep for a month straight – but one thing is certain.

He’s not alone anymore.

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ibijau · 3 years ago

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Concubine nhs pt10 / on AO3

Lan Qiren was predictably satisfied that next morning to learn that his nephew was finally willing to let him start looking for a young woman who would become empress. He had been pressing for it even before Lan Xichen met Nie Huaisang, and it had since become one of their few causes for arguments. This change of opinion pleased him so well that Lan Xichen felt a fresh new layer of guilt adding up to what was already plaguing him.

“I’m glad that boy can make you behave, where I can’t,” Lan Qiren said after being fed a lie. “I suppose I should have expected it. He’s smart, when he bothers.” To this Lan Xichen replied with a puzzled look, so his uncle explained. “I’ve been sending him books to study, and he sends notes saying what he thought of them. His understanding is usually shallow on most subjects, but he makes interesting observations sometimes. A good teacher might make something of him.”

That was something that Nie Huaisang had mentioned. Or at least, he had said that Lan Qiren was sending him books, blaming those less frivolous volumes he had in the little house on the emperor’s uncle. The way he’d spoken about it seemed to imply that he was not reading them, and he certainly never said anything about writing his own commentary on them.

It upset Lan Xichen to think that his uncle might have known Nie Huaisang better than he did.

He wondered if there was anyone who didn't know Nie Huaisang better than he did.

“If shufu thinks so, then he’s welcome to see if Huaisang might be interested in being taught,” Lan Xichen said, keeping his tone polite and distant. “Once I am married, I fear I might have less time to devote to him. Studying would provide him with something to do.”

And perhaps Nie Mingjue would hate Lan Xichen a little less in the future if his brother was given a chance for education. Perhaps that could still be saved. If Lan Qiren was the one to find him a teacher, it would certainly be a good one. Nothing but the best would do for an imperial concubine, and Lan Qiren had very high standards.

“I’ll see what can be arranged,” Lan Qiren promised. “I might visit him myself if I have time. I’ve missed having a student, and I’m curious about that boy. Even Wangji seems to think well of him, I can't continue ignoring him eternally.”

Lan Xichen smiled with as much joy as he could fake. He would have to warn Nie Huaisang then. His uncle was not prone to gossip, but he might become upset at Lord Nie for having used his son in such a manner, and Lan Xichen did not wish to see that friendship compromised. Not only that, but he did not want to be scolded for having behaved like a fool. He was ashamed enough about everything that had happened without his uncle lecturing him about it.

Having dealt with that matter, Lan Xichen went on with his day, not without some difficulty. He found it hard to focus on councils, or the people to whom he granted audiences. Every problem was important, and deserved his full attention, but his mind was elsewhere, and only through great effort did he manage to do his duty. Only a bad emperor would let private business distract him from his empire, he'd always been told, and yet there he was.

It took just as much effort to get ready to go to the little house that evening. Lan Xichen had prepared some reports he needed to read, hoping to somehow turn the time spent in that house into something productive. That plan crumbled when he opened the door only to be greeted by Nie Huaisang, dressed in his finest clothes, wearing too much jewellery, smiling at him as if nothing had happened.

“You’re home!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, springing from the sofa where he’d been sitting and running toward Lan Xichen who only escaped his concubine’s embrace by holding up a hand and pushing him away.

“What are you doing?” Lan Xichen snarled.

Nie Huaisang stumbled, his smile wavering. He stared at Lan Xichen for a moment, eyes wide and terrified, before quickly lowering his gaze as he bowed deeply.

“His highness said he would continue visiting,” Nie Huaisang mumbled. “This humble one thought his highness would wish… that I should…”

“No!” Lan Xichen exclaimed, so embarrassed it made him nauseous.

He still wanted Nie Huaisang, still loved him. He couldn’t help it, not even when he now knew that the person he loved wasn’t real. But as much as he’d been desperate the day before for any sign that Nie Huaisang might wish to continue his comedy, now that it was truly happening, the thought of it was appalling. It was bad enough that he’d unknowingly taken advantage in the past, but to still kiss Nie Huaisang and take him to bed while fully aware that the other man did not want him back would have been criminal.

He’d made a mistake in taking what was only offered under duress. He would not make another mistake in continuing to take advantage.

“We’re not doing that anymore,” Lan Xichen said, prompting Nie Huaisang to raise his eyes and throw him a confused look. “I’ve told you, I’m only continuing to come here to avoid giving the impression that your family fell out of favour. I’m not… I won’t ask that of you again. You can be safe on that regard at least!”

That reassurance did not have the intended effect, and Nie Huaisang only looked more distressed. Perhaps now that the initial shock of being discovered had passed, he was worried about what his father would say when he heard about that failure, and truly hoped to mend what had broken. Lan Xichen felt angry, but sorry too. Maybe when the war was over, he would find a way to free Nie Huaisang from his current position without sending him back to face his father.

Maybe Lan Qiren had the right idea, about finding him a teacher. If Nie Huaisang could pass the exams and enter the administration, his father might find it harder to punish him.

“In the future, when I come here, just continue on as if you were alone,” Lan Xichen ordered. “I will do the same. You don’t need to dress up like this, either. Just keep on what you’d normally wear.”

“Yes, your highness.”

Lan Xichen opened his mouth, ready to say there was no need to be using his title, only to quickly change his mind. Much as that new proof of the distance between them pained him, it would be worse to be addressed in a familiar manner. This was safer.

“Let’s eat,” Lan Xichen decided. “Then I will work for a while and sleep. You’ll take the bed,” he added after a moment of reflection. “I’ll take the sofa.”

“Your highness should take the bed,” Nie Huaisang protested. “It would be more suitable.”

“The sofa is fine.”

Nie Huaisang hesitated, and bowed even deeper. “His highness is tall, and the sofa is not long enough for him to lay down comfortably. This humble one is shorter, and has fallen asleep there many times without issues.”

It was reasonable, but Lan Xichen disliked the idea of sending Nie Huaisang to sleep on the sofa while keeping the bed to himself. It would feel like taking advantage again.

“You take the bed,” he insisted. “I might not even sleep at all anyway. I have a lot of work.”

Nie Huaisang looked unconvinced. He pouted, as if ready to say something about Lan Xichen’s stubbornness, as he did sometimes. But remembering he didn’t have to pretend to care anymore, he just lowered his eyes and gave up on the matter.

The evening, after that, went on quietly and awkwardly. They ate without a word, Lan Xichen having to fight several times the impulse to put in Nie Huaisang’s bowl some vegetables he knew the other man liked, or to ask him about his day. That heavy silence between them was hard to handle and yet necessary, or so Lan Xichen tried to convince himself. When they were done, the table was freed and cleaned to Lan Xichen could work, while Nie Huaisang grabbed a book and took refuge on the bed. It was the same military treaty as the previous day. Lan Xichen couldn’t help being upset about that for some reason, though he tried to focus on the reports he’d brought.

Tried, and failed.

"Shufu has told me he'd like to come see you," Lan Xichen announced after a while, when he found himself glancing at Nie Huaisang again and their eyes met. "He is interested in talking to you about the books he's made you read. I would appreciate if you kept our current situation from him."

"Of course, your highness,” Nie Huaisang replied, curling up a little tighter in his corner of the bed.

"He also spoke of finding you a teacher. If that's something you'd like, tell him. We have to start planning for your future after the war."

"Yes, your highness."

Lan Xichen frowned, wanting to ask what Nie Huaisang wanted, but refrained from it. Lan Qiren would be told, and he was the one who could organise those things. Having warned Nie Huaisang, the rest was out of Lan Xichen's hands.

For a good while longer, Lan Xichen continued reading. He took notes as long as he could, until tiredness made that impossible. Then he laid down on the sofa, forced to fold his body in a rather uncomfortable position as he continued reading.

After those last few days, even a bad position was not enough to keep Lan Xichen awake through the night. Without noticing he fell asleep, and only woke up a little before dawn. His aching back was what woke him, but the first thing he really noticed was that someone had wrapped a heavy blanket around him while he slept.

There could be no doubt that it was Nie Huaisang’s doing. Aside from the two of them, nobody would have dared to enter the little house at night. Servants had been instructed quite strictly from the start to wait until morning to pick up empty dishes, unless ordered otherwise. But as to why Nie Huaisang would do such a thing, Lan Xichen couldn't be sure.

It might have been nothing more than duty, and the need for every subject to care for their emperor. Or perhaps it was merely the force of habit, after three years of living together. Or else, if Lan Xichen allowed himself a moment of weakness, he could pretend that Nie Huaisang did care for him, not as an emperor but as a person.

A pleasant illusion to have in the vanishing darkness, but which could not be lingered on as morning light lazily inundated the little house.

Lan Xichen got up from the sofa, and stretched as best as he could when he wouldn't let go of that blanket. Out of habit, he turned his attention to the bed, where Nie Huaisang was sleeping deeply. Just like Lan Xichen, he must have fallen asleep by accident: his candle had entirely consumed itself, and his book laid open on the mattress, not far from his hand.

It wasn't an unfamiliar scene. Nie Huaisang would sometimes stay awake later than was reasonable, reading about poetry or devouring a novel. What Lan Xichen would do then, what he did again that morning, was to pick up the discarded book, placing something in it to keep the page. He would then make sure Nie Huaisang was warm enough, which he did that time by giving back the blanket offered to him during the night. And then, because Nie Huaisang always looked so sweet and peaceful in sleep, he would…

Lan Xichen froze above Nie Huaisang, having stopped just before his lips could touch the other man's. He remained that way a moment, hardly daring to breathe as the realisation of what he had almost done hit him. Then, as if struck by an invisible force, he quickly stumbled back, nearly tripping on the hem of his robe in his haste to put distance between himself and the sleeping young man.

Habit was a powerful thing, Lan Xichen thought as he hurried to make himself presentable so he could leave that cursed house.

He would have to be more careful in the future.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #concubine au #short one but I'm procrastinating on a bunch of stuff again #mostly on xisang week preparations

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pro-fangirls-unsocial-life · 4 years ago

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Welcome Home.

A/N: So I accidentally wrote this fic in discord while talking with @captainrexisboo and thought I’d post it here as well!! I know that the timeline is off with Kix, but I don’t care. Its my fic and I get to decide what the rules are lmao. Anyways, this is what I think would happen if Kix and Rex met in the rebellion. I hope you enjoy! (Also wow. Two fics in two days look at me go after like a month of not posting anything)

Length: ~1800

Warnings. ANGST. Feeling hopeless. Self loathing. Very much a hurt/comfort thing.

It had been three months since Kix had been woken up. The Empire now raged across the galaxy and Kix’s newfound reality now raged throughout his mind, never giving him a moment of rest.

After three months of being trapped in a tiny ship, the rebellion had decided that Kix was to be brought to the base on Yavin 4. For what, he had no idea, but now that he’s here, he thought it best not to dwell on what awaits him once he reaches his destination within the main building.

Walking down the halls, he feels a sense of dread at having stares thrown his way by those who remember the clone wars. All of them are older now. All of them know what he did.

The rebel scavenger who found him keeps leading him deeper into the base until they stop in front of the door leading to General Syndulla's quarters. He had been told that this would be who he was being brought to.

The door whooshes open to reveal Hera, a soft smile gracing her features. "Trooper?"

"Yes general?"

"Follow me.”

Hera looks to the man who had been escorting Kix. "You are dismissed Private."

With that, she turns, leading him through even more dimly lit hallways, not speaking a word but still keeping a smile on her features.

They walk like that for a while, Kix having no idea as to where he is being taken. "Do they want to question me? Torture me for information? Make me go undercover for them in the Empire? What use could I be to them?"

Finally, as they round a corner, his curiosity gets the better of him. "General?"

Hera stops in front of a large door. "Yes?”

"Forgive me, but… where are we going? What do you all want from me? I'm no use to anyone anymore."

Hera smiles and gestures to the door, laying her hand on the panel to open it. She chuckles, placing her other hand on the shoulder of the man in front of her. "All of your questions will be answered Trooper. I promise. But there was someone who wanted to see you first." She presses a button and the door quickly opens, revealing a large room with a briefing table lit up in the center.

Kix steps inside, looking around and seeing that it’s empty, all except for one person who hurriedly stands from the chair he was just occupying. He is worrying something in his hand but does not move toward Kix.

"I'll leave you two to catch up," Hera says, closing the door as she turns away.

Kix looks back at the man, now studying his features. He has deep brown eyes like Kix does and the same general face shape. He's older, bald and sporting a fluffy white beard that covers his face, almost mirroring the one that Kix had grown against his will after all these years. Only, as he looks closer, he can see that it just covers a small scar that runs over the man’s chin.

Suddenly, his heart drops to his feet. No. This isn't possible. He was the only clone left who wasn't being used by the Empire. He was the only one left who truly knew what had happened. This can’t be real.

"Rex?" His voice squeaks out in a barely audible whisper as tears threaten to fall from his eyes.

This has to be a trick. He had already shed his tears, had already mourned all of the lives that he had failed to save. He had already come to terms with his new hopeless reality. This couldn't be real. What would he do if it was?

What would he do if it wasn't?

If he allowed himself to believe that the man in front of him was really Rex, but it was just another lie he was being fed by the cruel mistress of fate, it would break him. He could not handle having his spirit broken once more when he had only just begun piecing it back together after so much time being broken.

No. He would not allow himself to be tricked like this. He attempted to stomp out the small spark of hope that seeing this man had ignited within him. He would no longer be a pawn, an entertainment for those who gained joy from the suffering of others. He couldn't do it again. Not again.

The man sharply took in a breath at the utterance of the name from Kix's lips and took a small step forward, his hands stopping their movement in front of him. "Kix," he breaths out. His shoulders sag, the tension he was previously holding disappearing as if he had just taken his first breath of peace after escaping a never-ending journey of despair.

He walked forward, quickening his pace with each step. Kix flinched away, taking two steps back and moving his hand to his hip to grab at a blaster that was not there.

The man stopped, a questioning pain coming across his features. "Kix?" His voice cracks as he says the name. Almost as if it hurts to say.

"Don't," Kix snaps out with as much force as he can muster. He feels the tears as they begin cascading down his face. Flowing without any end in sight as Kix's damn keeping them in place shatters at hearing his name from an all too familiar memory. "I won't be tricked by this. Not again."

"Kix..." The man takes two steps forward, gesturing between the two of them. "It's me. It's Rex. Your Captain."

"No!" Kix steps back again, shaking his head as he tries to put as much distance between himself and the ghost in front of him as possible. "My Captain, my brother, is dead. All of my brothers are dead." His breathing begins to speed up and his heart breaks as he spits his venom at the image of the man he once trusted more than anyone else in the universe. "My brothers are dead," he quietly chokes out. "And it's all my fault."

The man stares at him, his eyes tearing up and his heart aching at hearing Kix's words.

"It's all my fault," he chokes out again. "If I had been faster - if I had been good enough- none of this, the Empire, the Jedi, the death; none of it would have ever happened." He drops to his knees, holding his head in his hands as his tears continue to pool onto the cold stone floor. "I failed you Captain. I failed Fives. I failed Jesse.” A piercing sob tore through him. “All of this happened because of me."

There is no movement, not a single sound echoing throughout the room except the strangled cries of the still young man. And with each passing second, he can feel his resolve crumbling, until it has completely disappeared.

He sniffles, his tears still not slowing as they fall from his face onto the floor. "I don't care if your real or not... I wish that you were though.” He pauses. “Just... Just so I can tell Rex that I'm sorry. I'm- I'm so sorry for letting you down. For causing so much pain." He clenches his fists, feeling his nails dig into his palms until he feels them cut into his hand and draw blood. "For killing so many of our brothers."

For a moment, neither man moves, both keeping their eyes trained on the floor until the sound of boots echo throughout the room, accompanying the lonesome sobs of a defeated young man. They stop in front of Kix and squeak as the man who wears them kneels down to Kix's level.

He gently places his hand on Kix's shoulder, briefly stopping when Kix flinches away before letting his hand travel to the back of Kix's neck. He leans forward, guiding Kix toward him until their foreheads touch. "It's not your fault Kix."

Kix slowly draws himself back, looking up at the man with red eyes and a tear-stained face, finding a pained stare looking back at him. He searches the eyes of the older man, seeing nothing but kindness and sincerity in his gaze. "Rex?" His broken voice comes out as a whimper, only loud enough for the man in front of him to just barely hear it.

The man nods, a small smile coming across his face, conflicting with the tear-stained cheeks it moves with. "It's me, vod. It's me."

"Rex!" Kix cries out as he lunges forward, tightly wrapping his arms around Rex and pulling him as close as he can, feeling Rex do the same thing. Sobbing into his shoulder as his walls come crashing down and the small spark of hope he failed to extinguish ignites the long dormant fire within him once again. "I'm so sorry, vod. I tried. I tried so hard to make everything right. I tried so hard to save all of you." His tears have already made a wet spot on Rex's shirt and his breath comes out in huffs as he breaks down in his brother’s arms. "I'm so sorry Rex. I'm so sorry."

Rex tightly squeezes his brother, not ever wanting to let him go. "No, Kix. You have nothing to be sorry for." His own tears return, falling onto Kix's back as the other continues sobbing into his shoulder. "You did everything you could and you would have made it if I had just listened to Fives sooner." The younger man shakes as his cries continue and Rex begins to rub small, soothing circles on his back, rocking them back and forth where they are curled up on the floor. "It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault." He whispers the phrase, over and over and over, until Kix stops shaking and his breathing has evened out against his shoulder.

Pulling back, Rex smiles as he is finally given a moment to look over the face of his little brother after so many years. His eyes are red and puffy, and there are tears that make his cheeks shine, but it is Kix. The same brave, kind Kix that he once knew. "I see you've copied my beard," he joked, reaching his hand up to stroke at the hair on his face.

Kix laughs, wiping at his nose as he takes a deep breath to try and calm down. "Believe me, it will be the first thing to go once I get my hands on a razor."

Rex chuckles, bringing his hand up to cup the back of Kix's neck and guide him forward until their foreheads are touching once again.

Kix closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath. "I missed you vod. It's- It's been so long--" His words are cut short by Rex dragging him into a tight hug, fisting the fabric of Kix's shirt so tight that his knuckles turn white.

He takes a deep breath, grabbing onto Rex's shirt in the same way, never wanting to let go.

"Welcome home, vod," he hears in his ear. "Welcome home."

#captain rex #clone trooper kix #fix it?#kind of?#i mean the empire is still around so that sucks #angst #welcome home #my writing #pro speaks

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therealvinelle · 3 years ago

Note

Maybe this is bold of me to ask, but are there any deleted scenes from your fics, or scenes you had consideted writing but didn't? And if yes, would you be willing to share them someday?

Oh no problem!

Usually when a scene is deleted it stays deleted, so I don't have a lot to give you. There are a few things that were cut in betaing for various reasons, I can put a few of them below a readmore in this post.

There's the prologue that never was to Nebuchadnezzar's Dream, from back when the fic was supposed to be told alternately from Bella and Carlisle's respective points of view. In the prologue we saw how Bella, Alice, and Edward came to the point where they decided to overthrow the Volturi. Or, we would have, except I didn't actually like that prologue, and found myself jumping straight to writing chapter 2, the "Carlisle is at a party and gets attacked by a werewolf" chapter instead. My good beta @theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin asked why I didn't simply make the whole fic from Carlisle's point of view, I realized she had an excellent point, now here we are.

For that matter, this is nowhere near the only significant change that happened to this fic during writing. One example, in the original outline I never brought up Carlisle's gift. Two significant things in the last chapter were not planned until after I published chapters twelve and thirteen, respectively (Luckily for me it'll look like I plotted them all along, so yay for that). For a tightly plotted fic, this one has had a lot of leeway.

Slight caveat, as I’m self-conscious: with most of these you will probably be able to tell why they’re deleted scenes. Especially the prologue. God, that prologue.

(Also, for the record yes I do write other things, but due to 1. being betaed, and 2. being long, I really only have examples for Nebuchadnezzar's Dream.)

The prologue that never was. Apologies for the fluff saturation:

The Babylonian king Nebuchadnezzar II once had a dream.

There was a statue that was gold on top, then silver, then copper, then iron, then clay and iron. As he watched, a rock struck its feet, and soon the whole statue crumbled, leaving nothing but rubble. The rock then grew into a great mountain that covered all the world.

This, the prophet Daniel told the king, was a message from Jehovah.

The statue represented five great human empires, the golden head being the Babylonian Empire, and the following three being those who would come after. The last would be both iron and clay, a divided kingdom. It will fall, and then the kingdom of Heaven will come, crushing those empires in its path.

Thousands of years later, in 1453, the Byzantine Empire fell. The last of the Roman Empire, a divided kingdom, had fallen.

The Christian world trembled, because reckoning was surely near. With the fall of this last, great human empire, all the world would fall to rubble.

Fifteen years had passed.

The Cullens had left Forks behind, settling in the small town of Grafton, Idaho. Carlisle had quickly settled into the new hospital, and Esme had designed a beautiful new home for them while the rest attended the new school. Jasper and Rosalie were Carlisle’s younger siblings while Bella, Edward, Renesmée and Esme comprised another set of siblings. Alice and Emmett were the fosters.

Jacob wasn’t far, he still lived with his old .

«Did you hear they all scored an A on Mr Rosen’s test? Seriously, all of them!»

The words were uttered by Jenna Gilbert, a blonde sophomore who reminded Bella very much of Jessica Stanley. She was sitting on the opposite end of the cafeteria from Bella and her family, though

«Jen, it’s the Cullens, that’s just what they do. You should stop comparing yourself…» her friend said soothingly.

Bella ducked her face into her hand to hide her smile, and winked at Alice, who grinned back at her.

It was Bella and Renesmée’s first time going to high school as a vampire. It was exactly what Edward and Alice had said it would be, for better and for worse.

For the worse, because she spent her days pretending to be a human girl, never using her strength or speed, pretending Edward wasn’t her husband and Renesmée wasn’t her daughter.

For the better, because she got to spend every day with Edward, Renesmée, and the rest of her new family. The others had done the high school routine too many times to see things the way she did, and Renesmée had never known a life without the Cullens, but to Bella, attending high school as one of Dr. Cullen’s adoptive kids felt like she had truly come full circle since that first day she spotted Edward in the cafeteria. She was one of them, truly, irrevocably, and high school was nothing if not a promise of the countless years to come surrounded by the people she loved.

Edward caught her eye, and she smiled back at him. She lowered her shield briefly to show him how happy she was to be with her family.

His face softened into that beautiful, lop-sided smile of his, and he leaned in to whisper into her ear, «You’ll be less happy when you’ve been through English 101,» he said.

«Hey, hey,» Jasper said quickly. «Don’t you dare, Edward, I need all the happiness I can get in this place.» He locked eyes with Bella. «Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it.»

Bella laughed, and rested her head on Edward’s shoulder. He placed his hand above hers on the table, and she smiled. «Not a problem, Jazz.»

Jenna’s voice caught her notice again. «Look at how they’re sitting! Try and tell me they’re not incestuous, Cam. Just try.»

Her friend didn’t reply to that one, although a quick glance informed Bella that the girl was staring at the Cullen table with a frown on her face.

Bella and Alice caught each others’ eye again, and this time they couldn’t hold back the giggles.

***********

Later in the day, Alice’s eyes lit up. «You’ll receive a letter from Stefan and Vladimir a week from now,» she chirped.

«Oh!» Bella exclaimed. «What does it say?»

«The usual,» Alice replied, her eyes slightly distant as she concentrated. «They hope we’re all doing well, and they included a new story of how things used to be before the Volturi. It’s the story of how they once built an entire temple for themselves in just one day. Oh, and they have a new phone number. O-seven nine six five nine six.»

Bella’s eyes widened as Alice talked. She hoped they had included drawings of that temple, it sounded incredible.

Bella hadn’t expected the Romanians to stay in touch, when they left after the thwarted battle with the Volturi she thought they would slink back into the old European shadows they had cloaked themselves in for that past several thousand few years, not to be heard from until some new threat to the Volturi loomed.

But no, that very next Christmas Bella had received a gift from them. It was an old, if flaked painting of Ivan the Terrible looking a lot like Vladimir, and a note from Vladimir explaining how he fooled all of Russia into believing he was their ruler for decades, all right beneath Aro’s nose. Carlisle had broken into a fit of uncharacteristic giggles when he heard that, and even agreed to put the painting in the hallway. To this day, he’d huff with silent laughter whenever he walked past it.

After that, Bella and the two Romanians had been in touch. They’d send her gifts, stories, and their own observations about the Volturi, and she’d respond fondly.

It was a very unlikely friendship, but she was was eternally grateful to all those who had stood with her family when the Volturi came. The Romanians were no exception,

«Are you going to call them?» Alice inquired.

Bella nodded. «They were going to tell me about their visit to Thebes.»

(Outline: Prologue of sorts. Status quo update, everyone’s happy except for the part where the Volturi are waiting to kill them. Alice, Bella, and Edward form their plan. Alice sees that she’s going to have to send Carlisle away, and coincidentally his hospital colleagues are having their Christmas weekend in Montana. PERFECT. She talks to him.)

***********

Heavily altered scene from chapter 7

Carlisle makes more jokes than he did in the final product, they're unfunny to the point where my beta said "you can't publish this", the plague joke in particular is a bit too dark for him so I gave it to Jane instead. More importantly, the chapter itself has a very weird, clunky start:

«Is it the gift of being profoundly unimpressed by ridiculous claims?» Carlisle deadpanned. «Because if so, Aro, I think you might be on to something.»

Several seconds had passed since Aro made his ridiculous claim. At first, Carlisle had burst out laughing. Then, as he realized he was the only person in the room laughing and Aro was staring at him in full seriousness, his laughter had trailed off and he’d been left to stare dully at Aro for several long seconds, waiting for Aro to crack up and say «gotcha!».

Aro never cracked up.

Carlisle had absolutely no idea what Aro was playing at, especially not immediately after Carlisle had very reluctantly decided against shutting him out of his life.

«You can’t be serious,» he’d said.

Aro had sighed. «I’m afraid I am.»

And now, at Carlisle’s deadpan guess, Aro only shook his head. «Not quite.»

Carlisle stared at him for another second, before he ventured another, scathing guess. «Are you hoping it’s the power of being highly suggestible? Because I definitely don’t have that, or I would have abandoned my diet centuries centuries ago.»

Aro just looked at him. «If you would let me explain-» he began, but Carlisle cut him off.

«No, no, you want to try and convince me I have some sort of gift, then I want to guess at what you’re going for,» he said, crossing his legs at the knee and propping his chin up on his knuckle in a faux-pensive look.

«Now,» he continued, even as Aro gave him the world’s most unimpressed glare, as if Carlisle was the one who was being ridiculous, «I’m pretty sure I would have noticed the power to throw fireballs by now, so it can’t be that,» he mused aloud. «Same goes for the power of…» he searched his mind, «turning into a bat. That one would definitely have come up at some point. Or maybe I should suspend myself upside down in a cave. See if it triggers anything. Just to be sure.»

«Carlisle,» Aro murmured, but Carlisle wasn’t done.

«Maybe I spread disease. My father certainly thought demons did. Maybe that’s why I get so many interesting patients. Those brain fungi,» he nodded towards Renata, who was still sitting with the book open in her lap, «I’ve had two in one year. That’s a lot.»

«Carlisle-» Aro tried again, but Carlisle held up a finger, a wide grin spreading across his face.

«The power to change my eye color. You see, yesterday they were black-»

Aro actually rolled his eyes at that. Of course, he made the insolent gesture look like a fluid, enchanting movement.

«Yes, quite funny, now if you would let me explain…» Aro tried again while Carlisle tried not to snicker at his own joke.

***********

Two deleted paragraphs from chapter 9. The alteration was made because it was a bit on the nose about what Renesmée does.

Humans were mammals, and mammals were hardwired to protect their young. This extended across species, making mother cats care for puppies and humans care for anything that was small and cute. The instinct to love and cherish anything cute and helpless was an evolutionary necessity, and had to run deeper than anything if a species wanted to survive.

Enter Jane, who was the smallest, cutest thing Carlisle had ever seen, but from a species humans instinctively knew to fear. Maybe the very fact that she was something that humans knew they should want to care for made their fear exponential, made it impossible to deny that something was very wrong about her, that they were looking at a predator.

Perhaps too there was something to vampires having retained some of that human instinct to protect their young, if the countless stories of covens dying to protect their immortal children was anything to go by. Carlisle himself had been no exception when the Volturi came for Renesmée, even as he found himself risking the lives of countless friends.

How far things had come, he thought, from preparing to die along with his loved ones at the hands of the Volturi to sitting across a café table with Jane and pitching costume ideas.

***********

Chapter 9 was heavily altered, mainly as it was too funny the first (and second!) time around and I kept having to return to insert more existential dread. A side effect of this is that Carlisle in the original draft was still undecided on whether he had a gift up until the very end of the chapter, whereas it's proven beyond a doubt much earlier in the published version.

Jane was looking a bit daunted, though it was nothing compared to how Carlisle felt.

Silently, they went to stand in front of one of the many sports stores that Whitefish had to offer.

«This could still be confirmation bias,» Carlisle whispered, and leaned against the wall. For all the human blood that was in his system, his knees felt oddly weak.

Jane let out a startled laugh. «You’re seriously still in denial?»

Carlisle shook his head quietly. «They reacted pretty reasonably, just because they didn’t run away screaming…»

«Reasonably?» Jane echoed dully. «Carlisle, you can’t actually…» she shook her head. «Remember that bubble we talked about?»

Carlisle put his head in his hands, and let his fingers move up, under the wig, pulling it off in one neat motion.

Jane shook her head at him. «You look even more glamorous with your real hair.»

Carlisle still said nothing, balling the wig together in his hands.

Could it be he actually had a gift?

***********

The chapter 11 outline originally had Renata and Carlisle failing to communicate like normal people because they've spent too much time with Aro, and unintentional innuendo keeps ruining their attempts to make polite small talk. Sadly (or happily) this is a lot easier to conceptualize than carry out in actual writing, and their conversation wound up being far too serious for that, so it was cut. Luckily for you I did pen Carlisle flashbacking to a time his foot got in his mouth:

The moment after the words were out her face scrunched up.

Carlisle snorted. «Aro is a horrible influence on us all.»

He remembered one of his first talks with Jasper, when they were still getting to know each other.

Jasper had been a little starstruck when he learned Carlisle’s friends in Italy were those Italians.

He’d asked Carlisle a lot of questions once he got past a misplaced sense of awe, wanting to put a face to the eternal, petrified, leaders of the vampire world.

During a hunt with just the two of them, Jasper had been asking about Aro’s gift.

«What do you even think about when you’re with him?» Jasper had marvelled aloud, and he would later explain that the way he say it, this was like the way the Egyptian gods supposedly measured souls.

Place your heart upon the balancing scale against the weight of a feather, and if your heart weighs heavier it is devoured by the demon Ammit.

Place your hand in Aro’s, and if he deems you guilty of breaking his law, you will be torn to pieces in the space of a second.

Being friends with the man sounded unbearably stressful to Jasper.

Unfortunately, Carlisle’s mind had gone in the opposite direction, and what came out of his mouth before he could stop himself was, «England.»

He’d covered well enough for that, or he hoped he had. Jasper never asked.

***********

Chapter 11 was also supposed to have Renata being brave enough to ask for a selfie with Carlisle when they're both in black robes, this because I just really want Edward to sift through the Volturi group chat after all this and finding that. Alas, I couldn't work it in there. (Determined to not lose the joke, I had Aro take the photos in chapter 12 instead.)

***********

Chapter 12, the fandom ghost requested I include another butt slap and offered me fanart if I fulfilled her wish.

And so:

He held up a hand, presumably to touch Carlisle’s arm in comfort, but just then Alec started retching.

«He ate human food,» Jane deadpanned to Demetri, Felix, and Renata. Shaking her head, she brushed Alec’s hair out of his face as he hurled into the river.

Aro grimaced slightly, his hand hovering in the air.

Carlisle felt all the bread, corn flakes, and water that he’d swallowed press uncomfortably against his esophagus. «I’ll do you one better, Alec,» he choked, before he span around, fell to his knees and started retching, much like a cat.

Aro, evidently not sure what to do with his arm but not about to let it drop purposelessly, gave Carlisle a supportive pat on the bum before kneeling beside him to hold his hair as he hurled.

It was funny, but simply didn't fit the tone considering what happened after. It had to go. But hey, I got the art.

#there's more but these are the things that came to mind #my fic #nebuchadnezzar's dream #fic spoilers #of sorts kinda #doktrajediscovery

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bowiebond · 4 years ago

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A Minor Character Study Of Baron Helmut Zemo (?)

TW for Mentions of Attempted Suicide

Zemo knew from the get go that he was walking out of that prison on borrowed time. Whether he was killed by Barnes and Wilson, or Wakanda, or by his own hands, he would not be returning. But Zemo would prefer he got to spend his time out there doing as he pleased.

Doing what needed to be done.

When he heard about the return of super soldiers he suddenly felt glad that he hadn’t eaten that bullet years ago.

His job wasn’t over. The wound of his family, his country, had not stopped bleeding just yet. And it would not stop dripping until he had stitched every super soldier out of existence.

The original Avengers he had fought had already crumbled without the Captain, the Widow or Iron Man. The Witch and the Vision were long gone from Zemo’s knowledge. The God of Thunder had returned to space for the foreseeable future. And the Archer and the Machine hadn’t been seen fighting since the dust cleared.

It was almost an entirely new age of heroes since his father, wife and son were murdered by the Avengers carelessness. Zemo had very little reason left to destroy the new heroes. He could only hope the new age did better than their predecessors.

So his new goal was wiping out Steve Roger’s super soldier legacy. The final nail in the coffin to end all the pain that collected with every breath without his family.

But he’d make the mission an enjoyable one. Barnes and Wilson made for entertaining, and pliable, company. Barnes more than Wilson. Barnes had had decades to get used to people in his head, pulling out the vulnerable parts and digging their claws into them. So getting Barnes to give into his strategic plans with just a few words and a head tilt was a —harsh and cold steel blue—breeze. And where Barnes went, Wilson eventually followed with level headed words and concern for the soldier.

Zemo didn’t want them to really trust him; he wasn’t looking for that. In fact, being unpredictable by tinging on cruel some days and sincere on others kept them at a safe distance from him; but kept him barely inches away from their weak spot.

He preferred when they were snarky but compliant. Thinking they had the upper hand. That their leverage over him would hold.

So he played with their emotions.

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into it.”

“You’re TT would be proud.”

“In return, I give you him. Along with the pass codes to control him.”

“Only an American would assume a fashion forward black man was a pimp.”

“All super soldiers are supremacists.”

The two stayed on their toes around him, but seemed to relax enough to let out little tidbits of information they wouldn’t usually say.

Like the discussion with Karli.

And Zemo does take a sick satisfaction at shooting her — and yet she is a child, and her brown eyes are wide and frightened and he misses his dear Carl’s brown eyes with a fierce ache—, and his eyes are drawn to the brilliant blue of the vials that twist something dark in his soul. And he stomps them out like he wants to stomp the life out of Barnes when he sees him fight with all that extra power, when he squares his jaw in stubborn defiance. A defect and a liability. An unstitched wound.

He was too much like Rogers yet not enough to truly crackle the flames of his rage.

And when he wakes with an aching head, he almost feels a semblance of gratitude to Wilson when he says no with no hesitation. This man who was supposed to take on Steve Rogers legacy, yet he planned to do so without the rotten tar in his veins. Zemo hated the Avengers. He always would with a burning passion. But he almost likes Sam. Almost likes Bucky when he’s not being so much like Rogers.

It’s just how it goes when Zemo slips out of the room filled with the Dora Miljae. He’s not finished his mission yet. He needs to find a way to wipe out those super soldiers that remain, even if it costs him everything. And maybe after, if he survives it all, he’ll return for Barnes. Put a bullet in the head of the last soldier. Put a bullet in his own big mouth to finish it all.

To right all the wrongs done to his family, his home. To put to bed all the blood on his own hands.

“I lost everyone. And so will you. An empire toppled by its enemies can rise again. But one which crumbles from within? That's dead. Forever.”

#helmut zemo #baron zemo #zemo #fluff #marvel #sam wilson #bucky barnes #fanficton #mcu #character study #?#I don’t condone Zemo’s actions but I get it ?#morally grey character #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws

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wirsinddieranters · 4 years ago

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Attack on Titan is not about Jewish people, goddamn it.

Alright, so, like. I think now that S4 is airing most people understand that the basic 'AoT is nazi propaganda' shit is bullshit because clearly the Marleyan propaganda about Eldians being devils was meant to be propaganda, but I hear people make arguments I don't like still, mainly about Jewish stereotypes and the lack of accountability for Japanese imperialism. It seems this mostly revolves around people incorrectly thinking that Eldians are meant to be a stand-in for Jewish people during WW2, so that's just what I wanted to talk about. Because it isn't. And they aren’t.

People mostly think this because they're in a somewhat Germanic area and the technology seems like it's around WW2 era. Though I have to say in the later point-- it isn't. It's more WW1. Trench warfare like you saw at the start of the Marley is what WW1 was known for. Not WW2. The country Marley is battling with at the beginning of the arc, as well, seems to be a stand-in for the Ottoman Empire, which dissolved in the 1920s largely as a result of losing the war. Compare the soldiers of this 'Mid-East alliance' with WW1 era Ottoman soldiers:

Now, AoT’s world is VERY different from our own, but with these two facts, it’s pretty certain here that this story is around the 1910s our time. It’s WW1, NOT WW2.

But let’s also make it clear here that Eldians are not Jewish.

We know the past of the Eldians through Ymir.

They were Germanic people. Barbarians, as we know them, though the word only means ‘not Roman’ technically. Pretty distinguishable from the armor and the tusk cups. They are not Hebrew. Here’s a historical rendition of Germanic peoples, so you can get what I mean.

In fact, the ancient Germans are associated with the word Barbarian because, like I said, it means not Roman, and they were the ones the Romans were most fighting with.

Marley came from the Romans.

You know what a Roman headpiece looks like. It’s very distinguishable. They were Romans.

Hell, they’re still ‘Italians.’ You can see it in the food, though that’s more stereotypical than anything else. During the festival they were eating pizza, cannolis, and ice cream (which wasn’t an Italian invention but was introduced to Europe through Italy). You can see it in the names, too, though it's not absolute. Eldians tend to have Germanic names, like Braun or Jaeger, whereas in Marley we see Nicolo & General Calvi.

Not only are Marleyans not German, they aren’t even close to WW2 Germany. They are not trying to get revenge on anyone; they are just an imperialist country continuing to invade others for natural resources, as seen by the Mid-East alliance, as well as victims of their imperialism like Onyankopon and Yelena. They are imperialists, and rather than specifically trying to eradicate Eldians, they are strangely known for treating Eldians better than other countries-- Udo even says as much, knowing so because he was from a Mid-East nation (as you remember, he could speak the language of one of the Mid-Eastern soldiers). This is because Marley has a use for Eldians as cannonfodder and has a vested interest in treating them better so they can manipulate them into joining the military. Obviously, this never happened in history, especially not with Jewish people during the Holocaust- As such, there is no AoT equivalent to Auschwitz; no concentration camps that Eldians are systematically exterminated in, no gas chambers or ovens that were the big thing that set the Holocaust apart from other genocides.

If anything, Marley’s imperialist behavior is more akin to America than anything else-- Likely because this is a world where it seems the Roman empire never truly crumbled.

So, we’ve established here that AoT does not take place in WW2. It’s in WW1. And the genocide is happening worldwide, but mostly in Italy. Against Germanic people. It has nothing to do with Jewish people.

The reason why people think this, however, is because their understanding of genocides mostly start and stop at the Holocaust. They see ghettos, and they assume that the Eldians must be Jewish people. This is incorrect, too. If you know anything about how genocides happen, Isayama seemed to be very deliberate in just ticking all the boxes.

There are 10 stages of genocide.

http://genocidewatch.net/genocide-2/8-stages-of-genocide/

Classification / Symbolization / Discrimination / Dehumanization / Organization / Polarization / Preparation / Persecution / Extermination / Denial

Those are official. I learned them in school, that’s how I know them. Isayama is clearly aware of them and uses them outright, and somehow this has been mistaken for the Eldians being a stand-in for Jewish people during the Holocaust.

Things like armbands (symbolization) and ghettos (organization) are both literally stages of genocide. Not just the Holocaust. Any genocide. I’ll use the armband specifically. For some reason people think that this only happened in the holocaust. However, that’s wrong. Jewish people didn’t even wear an armband then, they wore yellow Star of David pins. If you google ‘genocide armband’ the first thing that actually comes up is the Bosnian genocide. Bosnians were kept in ghettos and forced to wear white armbands.

http://www.srebrenica.org.uk/what-happened/history/white-armband-day/

The genocidewatch source also mentions another example; Cambodians targeted by Pol Pot were forced to wear blue scarves.

One final thing I want to argue about, too, is that they must be Jewish because of the specific things hurled about them ‘controlling the world,’ because for some reason people seem to think that only Jews have ever been targeted for seemingly oppressing others, despite the fact that that’s what the Tutsi were specifically targeted for. They also have other insults hurled against them that Jewish people do not. They are all considered potential bombs; a suicide bomb threat. That’s, in fact, the main reason for people continuing to lock them up. They are scared that they’ll turn into titans and attack them. The previous oppression is only resentment, their continued oppression is from the constant danger, an argument that sounds far more like what Muslim people deal with, particularly today with Palestinians and Uighurs, who are both locked in ghettos in very much the same way.

(Also also, I’ve heard it argued that for some reason despite all this, Isayama should have made some big declaration against Japanese imperialism... But Japan is not a good country in this story. It’s also imperialist, but it’s half a world away, has very little bearing on the plot, and we already have a country that shows imperialism is bad. So... Why should he have to, when the story isn’t even about the horrors of WW2?)

So. I hope you guys can save this and use this to show people that there’s really no connection that needs to be made here, and that AoT has been given a bad reputation for no reason at all. Please share this. I’ve been wanting to talk about it for a while and finally had a chance to sit down and explain it.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #aot

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smarchit · 4 years ago

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Look Around, Look Around pt 7

Summary: You escaped an abusive marriage, pregnant with your husband’s child. He sends a bounty hunter after you to bring you back. Everything changes. Din Djarin/pregnant!reader, no use of y/n

Word count: 4k (apparently)

Warnings: Pregnancy/related topics, implied/referenced rape, mentions of abuse, blood/gore, violence, labor, childbirth, ask to tag for anything else!

Notes: This is definitely the longest part of this story so far. When I first published this on Ao3, it was originally titled “The Mother.” Enjoy!

Your water had broken. It ran down your legs and created a dark spot on the floor below your feet. The wet mark bloomed across the floor and fear rose in your throat. Kriff.

Two weeks early. Two whole kriffing weeks early. Almost three! You remembered what the doctor on Nevarro had said about potential birth complications and tried not to think about it too much as you tried to prepare the little home as much as you could in the short amount of time you knew you had.

You had been walking around the largest room in the house for a few hours since then, trying to stop the unbearable pain in your back. In. Out. In. Out. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

You let out a sharp cry and clung to a support beam so you wouldn't drop to your knees in fucking agony as another contraction hit. They were still far enough apart that you still had a bit of time, but you knew that this baby was coming. Today. With or without the Mandalorian there to assist. He kriffing promised.

The sun finally came up and still no sign of the Mandalorian. You were beyond worried - both for him, and at the very real possibility that you had to do this by yourself. In the middle of a desert.

You had decided that sitting in the nest of soft blankets and bedding would be the best option for you right now. Gods, what you wouldn't give for Mando's strong hands to grip onto right now.

Between the contractions and over the beeping from the timer you had rigged, you heard voices outside. Your heart jumped, thinking the Mandalorian had finally returned, maybe with help. It didn't sound like Mando, though. Neighbors, perhaps? Though you hadn't seen any other houses when you arrived. Fear began to bubble in your throat.

"There's his ship," a voice growled from outside. It sounded vaguely familiar, though you couldn't place it.

"Think he's in here?" asked a second voice.

"Nah," replied the first. "He would be waiting for us if he were. His girl's here though."

"How do you know?"

"I heard her crying."

You gasped, both in fear and in pain and carefully got to your knees. If you moved quick enough, you could make it to the ship and lock the door, like Mando had told you to do.

No luck.

You had almost made it to the back door when it slammed open. There was a scrawny man with sandy hair standing there, a dagger in his hand. He smiled at you and as you tried to scramble away backwards, he reached down and grabbed you by the hair.

"Oh, he's gonna love to see you," he chuckled.

You screamed and brought your foot down onto the arch of his boot. Hard. He let out a scream of pain. As he dropped you, you ran to the table and grabbed the blaster Mando had left you.

One shot to his head and he crumbled to the ground. You had an uneasy feeling that his partner wouldn't be felled so quickly.

Adrenaline coursed through you as you staggered to the back door again. All you needed to do was get to the ship...

"There you are," the first voice hissed. It was deep and grating and chilled you to your core.

Your eyes went wide with sheer terror as you recognized the man that filled the doorway that you currently were trying to make your escape through. Dern. The Devaronian innkeeper.

"Where is the Mandalorian?" he shouted, crossing the room to you in two massive steps. You backed up, trying to keep as much distance between you and him as you could.

"I don't know!" you shouted, crying out as a contraction hit. As you gripped your stomach and doubled over, you took a few breaths and tried to stay calm.

"Oho, now what is this?" he roared with laughter. "What's the matter, little girl? Do you need some assistance?"

"Get away!" you cried as he came closer to him. "I'll -- I'll shoot! I'll -- Ah, kriff!"

He just kept laughing despite your gasps and huffs of pain. Dern gripped your arm as you tried to keep it steady to shoot. He crushed your wrist and yanked the blaster from your hand.

"Please, please no!" you shouted as he drew you closer.

"Tell me where Mando is and I won't shoot," he said, aiming the blaster at your head.

"I don't know!" you sobbed. He still had a grip on your wrist and you could feel the bones creak as they threatened to shatter in his grasp.

Dern scowled and then in an instant, he had the blaster pressed against your belly, one finger resting on the trigger. When you let out a scream of horror, he gave a cruel chuckle.

"Tell. Me. Where. He. Is." Each word was punctuated with a jab to your belly with the blaster barrel.

You groaned and screwed up your face as the wave of contractions continued. Closer. Not long now.

"Please," you begged. "Let me go. I don't know where he is! He left two days ago! Please, I'm telling you the truth."

Dern scoffed and let you drop to the ground. He shook his head as you scrambled backwards, trying to get yourself to the small nest of blankets you had left on the floor. The palms of your hands were cut up with dust and gravel.

Your thigh brushed something buried in between the pillows and blankets and when you glanced down, there was a little glint in the low light. The knife. There was a chance after all. But you had to think fast. You only got one chance to hit, otherwise you and your baby were both dead.

The Devaronian took a seat close by you and kept the gun trained on you. He leaned forward so he could get a better look as you braced yourself against the wall as a powerful contraction hit. My moon, I will not let him take you from me.

Dern kept the gun on you for the better part of the early morning, waiting for you to talk. He drank the last of your water from the skin, leaving you parched and sweating as the sun beat down on the house.

You couldn't take it anymore.

"Dern," you gasped, hand clutching your belly. You pulled your shirt from the waistband of your skirt, exposing stretched flesh to the dry air. "I... I need help. Please help me. This baby is coming."

Gods, you hoped that Devaronians weren't known for their obstetrical prowess. It was the worst lie you ever thought of.

He laughed as he stalked over to you, stuffing the blaster in his pocket. One giant fist tangled in your hair and yanked you to your knees. "You finally decided you need my help, huh?"

You gritted your teeth as he leaned down to get closer, pulling you up to meet his face. He smelled like blaster smoke and oil. And something beneath that. Something that caused a deep rage to boil inside you, something that caused your maternal instinct to go into hyperdrive as you gripped the hilt of the knife Mando had left for you. Sour Bantha milk.

"Think I'll keep you," he said with a chuckle, "Wonder how soon I can put another baby back in you? You look so good like this. Wonder how good you'd look with a Devaronian inside of you." Dern trailed his fingers down your neck and cupped his hand over one of your breasts, travelling lower until it reached your exposed belly. He dug his nails into your skin.

You screamed and drove the blade of the knife into the side of his neck as hard as you could. When you jerked it forward, he gave a roar of pain as his blood sprayed over you.

He tried to reach up to grab your arm to subdue you, to try and make you drop the knife. Dern swore and tried to snap your wrist as you brought the blade down again and again with your other hand.

When he fell, you gave another scream and shoved him away. As he landed in a heap on the floor, you drove the knife into his temple. His blood soaked through your clothes, the blankets, the dirt floor of the house turning the sand red and wet as he bled out. It was on your face. You could feel it. You tried to wipe all the blood off your hands on a nearby blanket. Shaking. Your vision blurred. You just killed someone. Two someones. There's so much blood.

"Maker," you gasped.

You had to get out of here as soon as you could. As quickly as possible, you staggered to your feet, biting your lip bloody through the pain. You had to get to the ship. Send an emergency signal to someone. Anyone. Maybe someone would pick up on it and rescue you. Maker, you would even take your chances with the remnants of the kriffing Empire right now.

Something must have happened to the Mandalorian to keep him away like this, especially when he promised you he would be back. You shuddered to think.

You took a deep breath and steeled yourself as you walked, no, waddled through the blood on the floor and out towards the ship. As you entered the hold, you realized you would have to go up to the cockpit to send a message. You tried to climb the ladder, but you didn't get past the first rung before you dropped to the floor. You hissed at the pain in your knees.

Blood pounded in your ears as you crawled back the hallway towards the bedroom you had slept in for the past few months. You were running on pure instinct and adrenaline right now.

Like a scared animal.

As you tried to pull yourself onto the bed, you heard loud footsteps clanging up the ramp. Someone called your name. They sounded frantic as they searched for you.

"Mando?" you called, your voice hoarse as you tried to get his attention.

He must've heard you. His footsteps grew louder and closer as he neared, and you turned your head as best you could to see him there in the doorway, shiny beskar armor catching the light and looking every single bit like a kriffing hero.

You tried to turn around to face him, but the worst of the contractions finally hit. In an attempt to alleviate some of the pain, you sat against the wall of the bedroom, unable to make it onto the cot.

Mando was already at your side on his knees. He yanked his gauntlets off and threw them off to the side. You heard them land somewhere with a clang. His gloves came next. Here in the low light of the ship's interior, you couldn't get a good look at hands, but they were warm and solid when they pulled you against him.

"Gonna need to take this off," he said quickly. He helped you lift your hips and gently pulled off your skirt and underclothes, ruined and soiled with fluid and blood.

"Where-- where were you?!" you cried as your body finally gave you the signal to start to push. Talk about close calls, Mando.

"Tell you later, okay?" he replied, looping your arm through his. "Focus on this - brace yourself on me. You need to push."

You pressed your whole weight against him as you focused all your strength into pushing downwards.

Mando gripped your hand and let you squeeze as hard as you needed to get through this. He held one of your thighs open with his elbow resting against your knee while you kept your free hand on your other knee. Blood streaked along your inner thighs and Mando set your balled-up skirt on the floor beneath you to try and catch some of the fluid.

You threw your head back and fucking howled. The sound was absolutely primal and it rang in your ears as you bore down. It echoed through the ship and reverberated back to you.

You really didn't even hear Mando's strong words of encouragement as he tried his best to talk you through it. You weren't sure, but you may have told him to shut the fuck up at one point.

It seemed like it was never going to end. The pain tore through you like fire.

A sharp cry that was not your own flooded your ears. A rush of endorphins came over you as your child finally made their entrance into the galaxy.

"You did it!" Mando cried. He sounded like he was laughing with relief. "Me'suum, you did it!"

Hands shaking from exertion, you let go of Mando to help the screaming baby out of you.

"Oh, my moon," you whispered as your eyes filled with tears. "My little moon."

You gently lifted them and held them against your chest, wanting nothing more than to have this baby now be as close to you as physically possible. You shushed the baby gently, your own cheeks now wet as well.

"You did it," he murmured. He pushed sweaty hair from your forehead and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, letting you lean against him. His cool helmet rested on your temple as he looked down at the still restless newborn baby in your arms. "It's a girl, me'suum."

"I did... Did it." you breathed, resting your hand on the baby's back. You were suddenly exhausted and you sagged against him heavily. Your words slurred together slightly. "'s a girl, Mando. A lil' girl?"

"Hey," he murmured, jostling you a bit in an attempt to rouse you. He sat up a bit straighter. "Hey. I need to get you cleaned up, okay? We gotta get you clean."

You nodded and let your eyes flutter shut. You were so tired...

"Maker. Me'suum," he said, trying to get your attention. His tone was urgent. "I will be right back. The medpak is in the fresher. Don't fall asleep. You lost -- Maker, there's a lot of blood."

Mando stood and exited the room, being sure to side-step the blood. He grabbed the medpak and an extra shot of bacta before he returned to you. He knelt back down in front of you, administered the shot and sighed in relief when the color returned to your cheeks after a moment.

You felt better instantly. No pain, no fatigue. Only slightly weak, but you had expected that from the beginning.

"Mando," you whispered as he took his place at your side once more. You looked up at him through heavy, sleepy eyes. When he responded with a grunt, you looked down at the baby, now finally calmed and gurgling slightly, and stroked your finger over her faint hairline. "I need you to cut her cord for me... Please?"

He sucked in a breath. The sound crackled through the modulator and he stood, frozen in place.

"Hey," you said, lifting your head. He looked so distant, even though you couldn't see his face. "Can you do that? Please?"

Mando shook whatever he was thinking about from his head and turned his attention back to you and the baby.

"Right, yeah," he murmured. He pulled out a pair of wound care scissors from the medpak and carefully cut your baby's cord. He tied it off with a strip of gauze from the kit.

While Mando did his best to clean you up, you used a clean edge of your shirt to gently clean your baby's face, noting that she blessedly had most of your features.

Mando disappeared for a moment, returning with an armful of blankets and cushions from the house. Many of the cleaner ones were from the festival that now seemed like a lifetime ago.

After sitting there with you for a while, he helped you into the bed and made sure you were as comfortable as possible.

He wrapped your daughter in one of his old scarves and returned her to your arms. You slid your arms out of your shirt and pressed her to you, hoping that the contact would soothe her.

"Gonna... Go check on the kid," he said softly. "You gonna be okay?"

"You gonna bring him down?"

"In a bit... Give him a little talking to," he murmured. "A heads up. I don't think he knows what's going on."

You gingerly moved your baby to the other arm and held your hand out to him. "He might be asleep."

Mando looked up at the ceiling as if listening for any sort of disturbance upstairs.

He stood by your side and laced his fingers through yours. His hands were still bared to you and you noted his skin was a beautiful golden copper.

"Why didn't you come?" you whispered, looking up at him. "You said you'd be back by morning."

"Remember how I said it looked like Jawas scavved the parts of the tanks?"

You nodded.

"So I headed towards a settlement I saw on the way in, hoping someone would have a bit of sympathy if I explained the situation," he murmured. He sighed deeply and shook his head. "It ended up as an ambush. Some people I used to work with."

You looked up at him and he gave your hand a squeeze.

"They wanted you," he continued. "Said they were gonna take you to your husband for the money. I had to fight them off - they wounded me and ran. Another moisture farmer took me in. Lent me her speeder so I could get back here."

"You almost didn't make it," you chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to the baby's forehead.

"When I saw those bodies in there... I didn't know what to think," he said softly, "I thought that you were... I thought the worst."

"I'm sorry about your friend," you said, though you were beginning to think that their relationship was purely one-sided at the beginning, foggy in the middle and hatred on both sides at the end.

He gave a half hearted shrug and ran a calloused thumb over your knuckles.

You wanted to say something so bad. But what words could you say? Thank you wasn't enough and I think I love you felt like it was both too much and not enough. Both were true. You had never felt so grateful for another person in your whole life.

A banging noise from upstairs startled you both. You jumped enough to wake your daughter who had fallen asleep, her little head nestled against your breast as she began to cry. You lightly rocked and shushed her as Mando went to investigate.

He returned not a minute later with his own child under his arm. The baby looked incredibly pleased with himself and the way Mando's shoulders sagged made it look like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders by holding his adopted child.

You couldn't help but laugh tiredly at the picture the four of you must make. It filled your heart with an emotion you hadn't felt in so long. Joy.

The child babbled excitedly in Mando's arms when he saw the bundle against your bare chest.

You nodded and gently lowered your arms down when Mando set him in your lap. When you pulled the makeshift swaddle down to expose her face, the child cooed and blinked at her. He peered over the edge of her blanket and cocked his head to one side.

"See?" you murmured, rubbing your fingers over one of his oversized ears. "Gentle." You pressed a kiss to your daughter's forehead and then leaned forward to kiss the child on his.

Mando made a soft noise and you looked up at him. He was leaning against the wall, watching the three of you. You wished you could see his face. To know what he was thinking right now would complete you.

***

The next day, Mando set a course for Sorgan. He sent a message to Greef Karga, advising him he was taking a short leave of absence from the Guild.

He let you sleep for as long as you needed to. He figured you had been through enough and deserved to rest.

You woke suddenly and immediately panicked when the small bundle beside you was empty.

"Mando?" you cried, jumping from the cot. You threw on a robe, ignoring the pain screaming between your legs as you tore open the bedroom door.

There was the sound of water running from the fresher and you gently knocked on the door.

"Mando?" you repeated, not caring that you sounded frantic.

The water shut off and the door slowly opened with a hiss.

The Mandalorian stood before you in just his thick canvas pants, a high-collar shirt, and his helmet. Your daughter was nestled in his arms in a clean blanket, clean, dry, and sleeping soundly.

The child cooed at you from the small sink in the fresher. He too, was clean, but had not yet been dried, though he didn't seem to mind.

"You should still be asleep," Mando said softly as he let you take your daughter in your arms. "You just did an amazing thing."

"I need to feed her," you murmured, pressing a kiss to her nose.

Before you turned to head to the cockpit, you looked up at him.

"You bathed her?" you asked, feeling the telltale sign of tears in your eyes.

"She still had blood on her," he murmured. "She slept the whole time."

You reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. He looked down where your hand fit against his. You stood on your tip toes and pressed your forehead to his.

Before he could respond, you pulled away and ascended to the cockpit to feed your baby.

***

As you approached the lush planet of Sorgan, you watched both children as they slept. The child was in his pod, your daughter in Mando's arms. He was so gentle with her. You had watched those hands snap necks without a second thought, and yet you trusted them completely to hold something so fragile and new.

"Did you name her?" he asked softly.

You shook your head. “Not yet.”

"You have to think of one," he said as he looked up from her face. "I mean, you can't really call her your moon for the rest of her life."

"What do you call the child, then?"

Mando was silent for a moment.

"Thought so," you teased. "Besides, what was it you called her earlier? When I was feeding her?"

He gave a huff of soft laughter. "Me'suum'ika?"

"And what does that mean?" you asked. "I assume it's Mandalorian, but what does it mean?"

"Moon," he said quietly as he touched her nose.

"Then that means..." You gasped as you came to the realization. "Mando! Have you been calling me a planet for the last three months?!"

Mando laughed loud enough to wake both babies as you felt the ship begin deceleration to Sorgan.

"What did you think it meant?" he wheezed as he turned his chair around to land on a patch of flat ground.

"I'm not sure," you said softly. "My darling? Maybe that?"

He was silent as the he pressed a button to power down. He patted your daughter on the bottom to lull her back to sleep as he stood to face you.

"Cyar'ika," he replied, his gloved hand cupping your cheek.

This time, it was he who left before you could respond.

You turned to look out the front window of the Razor Crest. Already, you could see the villagers coming towards the ship, led by Winta, who seemed much taller now than she had six months ago when you first met her.

As you joined Mando outside, you spotted Cara Dune, gun slung over her shoulder walking beside Omera at the rear of the crowd.

Mando put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you a bit closer as everyone came to get a look at the star system's newest moon.

***

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#my writing #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fic #no use of y/n #look around fic

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