#sorry i loved the eye of the empire au so much that i got the idea.

[eorzeashan]

“i hate how you put yourself in situations like these.”

"I hate how you put yourself in situations like these."

Eight crushed his cheek into the palm of his hand further at the sound of Ain'res' breaking voice, making a point not to turn around as the Chiss tended to his wounds.

"...I couldn't leave you alone." He answered, voice just above a whisper.

The other agent's own expression remained sharp with professionalism-- but Eight could sense the rawness of his emotions without even looking at him. For all his purposeful gentleness, Ain'res' frustrations betrayed him, his fingernails digging so tightly into the kolto-soaked rag that it bubbled with foam beneath his cuticles.

The sting of it against his open skin did little to relieve either of them. Still, dutiful as ever, Ain'res scrubbed at his scars. The repetition was a calming tactic, mere routine in a time of constant threat. It didn't stop tears from blooming at the edges of his crimson eyes.

Saying nothing, Eight reached past his shoulder to interlace his bandaged fingers with his.

Ain'res latched onto him. His forehead came to rest between Eight's shoulderblades, just beneath the shock collar that mirrored his own.

Eight pretended not to hear the sobs muffled into his skin, nor feel the wetness that trailed down his back. He held onto him tighter. Yet his gaze remained fixated on the wall in front of him, refusing to bear witness to his suffering.

This was his fault, after all.

It was his decision to follow him right into Rivix's trap. It had been his choice not to sacrifice Ain'res when he was a step away from landing the finishing blow, and it was now his responsibility to be with him beneath a new master's thumb.

Even if it made them both pawns. Even if he hated him for it.

From now on, he would have to be stronger for both of them.

Eye of the Empire AU

[star-girl69]

She Calls Me Baby

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Reader

—-

synopsis: college au, in which you slowly realize something is wrong with your girlfriend.

a/n: love this song. had to do it sorry. anyways this sucks actual BALLS but idc i just have to write something or else i will lose my empire and title as mother of clarisse tumblr ☹️

Jackie and Wilson - Hozier

warnings: NOT BETA READ, im sure this is so discombobulated but IDC!!!!!! anyways, swearing, mentions of death and the usual demigod stuff, mentions of monsters, idk pretty chill…, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

Your favorite story Clarisse ever told you is the one about soulmates.

She told it to you in the dark, in her bed, hand on the side of your face as she whispered to you like you were secret lovers.

She told you that humans once had two heads and four arms, but Zeus thought they would grow to be too powerful and split them apart. Hearts split in two, detained to roam the earth, trying to find each other.

That’s how it feels with Clarisse- like you’ve known her for years, like your bodies were born of the same speck of dust, souls grew next to each other, fires inside of you burning in the same altar for a hundred years before you met.

Clarisse approached you fast- hard and unrelenting like a hurricane. She wanted whatever she could take from you, love, comfort, a one-night.

It scared her when you wanted to give.

It was kind of crazy how easily the two of you just fit together, crazy how you both liked some things, both hated things, hated something things she liked and nice versa. It was like there was this natural balance between you, everything sort of cosmically weighed out- and it just felt so right to be with her that everything else faded away.

But it was clear that Clarisse fell head over heels for you, the way she would smile and just tell you that you were so different, so much better than her. You were everything she wasn’t, and she resented you so much for it she loved you.

You weren’t exactly sure why Clarisse loved you so much- maybe it was the way you respect her past, maybe it was the way you didn’t push- you just accepted the crazy and tried your best to save her with what little information you did have. It surprised her and you when you became the one to get greedy, to take from her, but you knew she loved the feeling of being wanted.

But lately, Clarisse has been particularly… off. It’s not exam season, so you can’t chalk it up to that. And she’s the most talented player on the field hockey team, you’ve seen her play- she’s overconfident and for good reason. She has no reason to be stressed there, unless somethings changed.

But something tells you it’s not that.

The first real concrete clue you ever got was when you first met her.

The library is where you met Clarisse. The one closest to your dorm hall, the one that’s two floors and built like an out-of-place Greek temple- it always makes you smile when Clarisse gives it a dirty look, trying to persuade you to go to any other library. It doesn’t make sense to you- why go to the one all the way across campus when this one is only a five minute walk?

She always seems on edge when she meets you in here, but she bites it back and won’t tell you no matter how much you ask. She says it’s just a weird thing she has, hard to explain, so you let it go when she clearly doesn’t want to talk about it.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she smiles, pulling out the chair next to you. She glances around the library, not nervously, but observant. Ready, waiting. She’s always been able to do that- scan an entire room in seconds and find out everything.

“Hi,” you smile, stretching as you push your books away from you, grateful for the distraction her brown eyes and sweet voice provide.

She picks up a textbook you’ve pushed off to the side. She scoffs at the title, mumbling about how she still doesn’t know why you would choose the major you did.

“How was practice?” you ask, choosing to ignore her remarks in favor of soaking up her attention and the much needed distraction.

“Boring,” she hums, rubbing her foot up and down your leg, head in her hands. “Freshmen are pissin’ me off, they don’t know shit. Coach has to teach them all the basics over again.”

You lay your head on a thick textbook, staring up at her. “The freshmen are always shitty. Then you love them by the end of the year.”

“I don’t,” she huffs, but some of her favorite members of the team are the freshmen she hated her sophomore year. “Whatever. It’s different, they all suck. Shouldn’t be here.”

“Sure,” you say, yawning again.

“Okay, did you not sleep last night?” she chuckles.

You shrug sheepishly, Clarisse is always so adamant you sleep and eat enough, but sometimes you have to sacrifice the little things for your grades.

“I had a test this morning, stayed up a little later cramming.”

“Uh-huh, so, like, until 1 in the morning? Worse?”

You hold your breath, sitting up as you conveniently look away from her. “3,” you exhale.

She smiles and puts a piece of hair behind your ear.

“But,” you smile, sensing the lecture. “After these five questions, I can be all yours for the rest of the day.”

She pretends to weigh her options.

“Well, I do like the sound of that.”

—-

The second clue is the way she always seems like she’s running away from something.

Your rooms are blessedly only a few doors down from each other, so someone is always sneaking into someone else’s and your roommates have both learned to deal with it.

Silena, Clarisse’s roommate, only greets you with a smile as you sheepishly slip past her in the mornings- Clarisse’s shirt haphazardly slipped over you.

So, on this day, you’re slumped in bed while Clarisse promises to take care of you, and you’re all too happy to let her.

She’s already spent the last hour lying with you in bed, letting you sleep on top of her- forcing you to catch up on some much needed hours of rest with her soft voice in your ear and hand trailing up your back.

She only got up when you mentioned you were hungry, immediately suggesting the idea of ordering from your favorite restaurant, refusing to be swayed by you back into your warm bed.

So, here you were, scrolling on your phone while you waited for the click of the door and the smell of hot food. And it comes, you prepare to make some quip about how dare she leaves you for almost a half hour.

Her keys jangle in her hands as she quickly shuts the door, turning around and pressing her back against it. She breathes out, heavily, before her eyes meet yours and she studies the shocked and confused look on your face.

“Ran up the stairs,” she smiles, leaving her keys and wallet on top of your dresser, dropping the bag of food on your bed before she goes to the window, peeking out of it. “Didn’t want my princess waiting for too long,” she chuckles.

You don’t even look at the bag of food in front of you. You reach out and grab her hand, and she flinches, but pulls away from the window and into your touch.

“Clarisse,” you breathe, and panic flashes in her eyes as she quickly rips open the bag.

“C’mon, don’t let it get cold.”

“Clar… baby,”

“Wanna watch a movie? Or play a game? Anything you want, sweetheart, jus’ say the word.”

—-

The third clue is the fact that you’re 99% sure she’s seeing things.

It sounds horrible to say, and sometimes late at night when she’s asleep against you, you wonder what the hell you’re supposed to do. You’ve only met her mom a few times, never met her father- Silena and her have been friends for years, but you still feel like it all falls to you.

It doesn’t, legally, maybe not even morally- but she’s your girlfriend. You should know what she wants, you should be able to advocate for her when she can’t.

So, the best thing you can think to do it ignore it. You pretend it doesn’t concern you, you pretend you don’t see it, you pretend because you can’t even think about the idea of her not being her, of her being away from you.

You focus on the moment.

You love these walks with Clarisse, her hand warm in yours. It was moments like these where you felt like Clarisse was your sun. Yes, the setting sun was warm against your back, but nothing made you feel alive like Clarisse did. Your hands swing together, hitting your hip, and she seamlessly switches from your hand to wrapping at arm around your waist.

You smile at her, cheeks hot. You go to adjust your bag as a means of distracting yourself, but your hand awkwardly ends up floating in the air when you realize Clarisse took your bag when she picked you up from your last class.

As if sensing the awkwardness, she hikes the tote bag farther up her shoulder.

“What’re your plans today, pretty girl?”

You hum, feeling so at ease with the way she calls you that pet name, with the way she squeezes you closer to her.

“Well, I finished my big project yesterday, don’t really have anything else to do, so I was just gonna chill. What ‘bout you?”

“Ugh,” she groans. “I have practice until 8. But I’ll come over after? And spend the night?”

You smile, laughing softly.

“I don’t know why you even ask anymore.”

“It’s polite,” she smiles. “I’m a very polite person, only when it comes to you.”

“I’ll see you at 8:15, huh?”

“Obviously,” she huffs, kissing your temple. Again, you feel like cheeks heat like this is the first day you met her. It’s embarrassing to be affected by her so much, but it’s also so sweet. Only she can draw out these reactions from you, this potent all these months later. It still feels like the first day with her sometimes, but you also feel like you’ve known her for years.

She bites her lip and hisses a curse word under her breath.

“What?” you ask, snapped out of the way she holds you so perfectly, following her eye line. She stares firmly in between two cars, but there’s nothing there.

“Nothing,” she says, not taking her eyes away from that spot- not even blinking, you realize after a second. She hides the way she gets, that unrelenting focus like when she’s playing in a game, with a laugh.

“Thought I saw that bitch from my 11am.” You look at her. You don’t believe her. She knows you don’t. And it breaks your heart that something is clearly happening, and you can’t force yourself to feel bad for ignoring it, and you can’t force her to tell you. “C’mon, let’s go.”

She moves to hold your hand and drags you off forcefully toward the direction of the entrance. She squints, almost like she’s driving off something with her mind.

“Clarisse,” you mumble, squeezing her hand, feeling unsettled just by the way she’s so clearly ready for a fight. It’s like she can see something you can’t.

She risks a small glance at you, a normal looking smile.

“It’s all good, baby. I’ve got you,” she smiles, reaching back like she’s stretching, but something where there’s nothing glints in the sunlight.

—-

The fourth clue is the fight with Silena.

She asked you to meet her at her dorm, wear something nice and pretty, and you’ll go out for a nice dinner and some ice cream. She’s been so busy with practice lately, it makes your entire body squeeze the way she jumps to spend time with you at the first off day she gets.

You smooth down your pretty top, the one you know you look good in, the one you know she likes. You’re about to knock on the door when you realize it’s been left open, just a crack. That’s when their voices rise, enough so you can hear them.

“It different now, Clar!”

“It’s. Not. It’s not different, it will never be different, nothing will ever change.”

“Before, Clarisse, when you told me you had this crush on the girl in your econ class, I didn’t think anything of it. I didn’t care. But, Gods, Clarisse, anyone can see it’s different. She’s not just some girl, she’s your girl, your girlfriend, and you’re totally in love with her.”

“I know that,” she huffs. “I’m the one who’s actually in love with her. I love her, and I know her. I know what’s best for her.”

“And she’s in love with you too, Clarisse.”

She laughs. “I would hope so.”

“It’s different, Clarisse. It’s been different for a while, and I didn’t say anything because I thought you would notice. But you haven’t.”

“Fuck, Silena, please. Please, just stop. I’m not puttin’ her through that. I’m not putting myself through that again. I’m not that girl anymore. I am not my father’s daughter.”

“It never goes away, Clar.”

Silena’s voice is quiet, hesitant. Clarisse has confessed to you her struggles with her emotions all her life, particularly anger. Half the reason her mother sent her to that camp she always talks about was because she had such bad anger issues. But she worked through them, and you know she’s different now, she has healthy outlets and ways to cope.

But still, Silena seems scared.

“Shut the fuck up.”

You hear her walking towards you and quickly step back, smoothing your face out into a blank slate, tempted to hit yourself in the head to forget what you just heard.

The door swings open, and she smiles immediately when she sees you.

“Y/N,” she says, sticking her keys into her pocket. You force yourself to do your best smile. “Oh, baby, you look so pretty.”

“Thank you,” you smile, letting her wrap her arms around you, letting her press a soft kiss against your lips.

—-

Clarisse made you laugh all night, made you smile, made you wonder how you ever got this far in life without her. She paid for your dinner and ushered you out of the restaurant, chuckling about how you drove her crazy and she just wanted you now-

Until she walked you to your car, opened the passenger door for you- suddenly shoving you inside and pushing the door softly closed, as much as she could get it with your foot still hanging out.

“Clarisse!” you shout, but she’s already appeared in the driver’s seat next to you, ushering you inside, reaching over and shutting the car door. She locks them with a satisfying click, finally letting her shoulder’s sink down. “What the fuck?” you huff.

“Sorry,” she smiles, hands squeezing the steering wheel. “It was the weirdest thing, a squirrel ran right over my foot, I got so freaked out…” she smiles, forces a laugh, but you only look at her unimpressed.

“Clarisse,” you sigh, letting your hands fall to your sides in defeat. “What’s going on? Please?”

She opens her mouth, then closes it.

“Just let me drive home,” she had said, and now you’re home, leading her into your dorm and she presses her back against the door.

You put your hands on her shoulders and she puts hers on your hips, she can’t look at you and you do your best to meet her eyes.

“Clarisse,” you say, a silent beg that all your suspicions are wrong, and everything and fine and she still loves you, she’s still your girlfriend.

“I’m not ready to tell you,” she rushes out. Her fingertips dig into your skin. “I’m not ready, okay? I’m sorry, but I’m not.”

“T-that’s okay,” you say after a moment. “It’s okay. I just… you can tell me, when you’re ready. I’m just scared, I don’t know why this is happening, you’re being so different-”

She hugs you and puts her face into your neck.

“Please, Y/N,” she breathes, shaky breath tickling your neck. “I love you so much. I love you more than anything, just let that be enough, please.”

You hugs you quick and hard, and you’re so shocked by it that you almost take a step back. But you can’t, really, not with her arms so tight, so right around you. And once you realize it’s just your Clarisse, you coo softly and put your hand in her hair, the other around her shoulders.

“Of course it’s enough, baby. Of course, I just want you to know that I’m here… I’m here…”

You run your hand through her hair and she exhales.

“I know, I know it’s not perfect, but you’re all I have. You’re all I have, Y/N, just be here with me, please.”

“I will,” you breathe. “I will.”

Your mind is swirling with more questions than answers, but Clarisse asks you to call her baby again and leads you to your bed. And you do, you call her baby and tell her you love her.

And the realization comes slowly, but once it comes it feels so right.

You don’t know what’s going on with Clarisse. All you have are incoherent clues strung together, but you realize you don’t care. You love Clarisse more than you’re scared of a little crazy.

And you tell her that as she lays on top of you, and she simply takes her face out of your neck, the faintest hint of tears welling in her eyes.

“I love you crazy, baby,” you murmur.

She smiles, and you feel like you’re being sucked into the eye of a hurricane.

She lets out a soft breath, like she was scared, so scared- and you’re not sure she’s ever been scared before. But she’s scared of losing you. She’s scared of losing you, and that makes you giddy like a schoolgirl. That makes you love her even more.

“I’m a lot of crazy,” she says, and you can’t tell if she’s joking, but you laugh. You laugh like a hyena, because you love her more than you love yourself.

You want to be the harbor she comes back to each night, you want to be the pillow where she rests her head. You want to be a vault for her secrets and her love. You want to be everything for her and you want to be everything to her.

You don’t believe in Greek myths, but maybe that one about soulmates was right.

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish @rebecca37 @saltair-and-palemoonlight @ace-spades-1

[togenabi]

with flowers under the stars

inumaki toge x fem!reader (royalty au)

♡—Toge does his best to impress you, even when others might not want him to.

previous♡— [PART 1]

word count♡— 4.1k words (oml)

genre♡— fluff, romance, royalty au

aged up characters♡— 18+

content notes♡— potential lovers to actual lovers, mutual pining, courtship, dating, everyone is a prince or princes, older brother!gojo satoru, no use of y/n, romance, very fluff, mentions of engagement and marriage, toge uses sign language, some characters may be ooc >< pls forgive me

author's note♡— after rising from the grave (I'm so sorry this took so long! buT! I'm graduating! AAA) I finally finished the sequel to my first toge fic. thank you so much to those who have appreciated my previous work! now that I'm back, I hope you enjoy this as well! (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)♡

Exchanging letters with prince Toge occurred frequently before you finally met again. He talked about many things, but they all ended the same way: mentioning how lovely you are and how he wishes time could run faster so he could meet you.

Toge's kingdom was a week on ship and a day by train away, so visiting was saved for important duties or events. ‘Maybe I should ask your brother to appoint me an official position in the council so I can stay in the palace.’ He wrote to you once. You reply that he doesn't deserve it, since he wouldn't be working with the empire or its people in mind.

He writes back that he fell for you a little more, and you trace that line an infinite number of times before tucking the letter away.

When the day of the banquet finally arrives, Satoru notices that you appear a bit more lavish than you usually care to look during events.

“Why! My dearest sister! How stunning you look! And for my birthday, no less! I love that color on you, your taste has improved so much!” He suddenly gasps dramatically and loudly—so loud, that the maid helping you with your earrings flinches.

“Are those... the earrings I got you last year? But I've never seen you wear them! I would give you a hug if it wouldn't ruin your clothes!”

You ignore him the entire time he fusses over you. He looks nice today, you admit. His hair is styled down which gives him a softer aura, and his white suit with gold details looks pristine. A midnight blue cape drapes over his shoulders and flows down his back. It would be difficult for anyone else to pull it off, but you don't tell him that. Goodness knows he would never let you hear the end of it.

You sigh as you watch him through the vanity mirror, but he only becomes even more giddy at your silence.

“Hey, give me that.” Satoru says to the attendant holding your brush. “Leave us.” He says as he stands behind you to brush your hair. You stare at him in disbelief.

Satoru knows you love when he brushes your hair. Even if you never outright told him, it was obvious that you enjoyed it when he cared for you. But because you were embarrassed to ask him as you got older, he hasn't done it since you were children.

He's silent and focuses on brushing your hair gently. The moment feels strangely emotional, and your resolve to ignore him cracks a bit.

“So...” Satoru meets your eyes in the mirror, then winks. “You and Toge, huh?”

You tsk, letting your resolve fully break. “I should've known you would notice.”

He laughs and places a hand on your shoulder. “Well, he wrote saying his father wanted to trade silk from their territory, and that he would like to stay at the palace to handle the negotiations.”

“...Add that to the letters you're receiving everyday, and it wasn't too hard to piece things together.”

You groan and cover your face in embarrassment. You and Toge weren't exactly a secret, but you didn't want your brother to know until it got more serious.

“So what now?” You dread having to ask. “Are you going to tell me to call it off?”

“Nope.” Satoru says, smiling. “Besides, if you're anything like your dear old brother—which, you are! Don't deny it!—I'll end up driving you into his arms if I try to keep you away.”

His eyes suddenly turn serious as he considers his next words. “He's a good kid... Good enough for you, though? We'll have to see.” He places the brush on the dresser, and takes your hand to help you on your feet.

“But what's important is to know yourself and decide for yourself. Don't let anyone else make that choice for you.” He looks sincere as he places your hand on his arm. “Shall we?”

“Satoru...” You call him, touched. He grins and kisses your forehead.

“And of course, if you end up marrying him, that saves me and the ministers the work of looking for your match!” You slap his shoulder, but he only laughs harder as he escorts you out.

The ballroom was sparkling when you arrived. There were already plenty of guests partaking in the revelries as the event had begun half an hour before. Satoru had insisted on the importance of being fashionably late. Normally, you wouldn't have let him actually be late, but you caved only for today.

“Entering, their Royal Highnesses, The Imperial Crown Prince and The Imperial Princess.”

As you descended the stairs with Satoru, the people bowed and you took that as an opportunity to look for a head of white hair, a mask or a high collar covering half the face.

“You're being too obvious.” Satoru whispered. “He'll show up, don't worry.”

He led you to the center of the hall. You were so caught up on looking for Toge that you had nearly forgotten you were to share Satoru's first dance; as he still wasn't engaged. The both of you took your positions gracefully as the music started to flow through the air.

“I'll spin you a few times.” He was grinning. “Try to spot him.”

And yet, the song ended without you seeing Toge anywhere. After giving a hasty bow to your brother, you went on with your search once again.

Your eyes caught princess Nobara the same moment she did yours. You were about to go greet her when her eyes trailed off to something behind you. When her gaze returns to yours, she's smirking and it makes you turn to look at what she saw.

Toge takes your breath away as he walks up to you. He wasn't wearing a mask, or a high collar like he had been during the previous ball. His suit was pitch black and every bit as elegant as him. Your eyes were immediately drawn to his lips and you blushed when he caught you staring. All you wanted to do was to dance with him so that you had an excuse to be close.

It seemed that he picked up on that, as he bowed and offered you his hand.

“It's good to see you again.” You greet him. He kisses the back of your hand with a smile before sweeping you away to dance.

Suddenly nervous, your words get stuck in your throat as the beginnings of a soft waltz reach your ears. “I... tried looking for you when I arrived.”

Toge leads the dance as effortlessly as he did the first time. It almost amazes you how natural it feels to move and sway with him. He seems pleased to know that you were paying him as much attention as he gave you.

Not wanting to simply dance, you took to asking him questions. “Did your journey here go smoothly?” Toge nods.

“When did you arrive?”

‘Today.’ He mouths.

“Ah. I'll have to take you sightseeing then.” You grin up at him. “Would tomorrow be alright?” You get your answer in the form of Toge grinning back, and before you could prepare yourself, he twirls you around and catches you in an embrace as the song finishes with a flourish. A number of people around you started to clap, and you couldn't help but blush in his arms.

After settling at the less crowded side of the ballroom, Toge explains, ‘I also tried to find you. I arrived as early as I could, and yet you and your brother were late.’ He looks at you almost as if to scold you, but you see mischief in his eyes. ‘I thought that you might be by the window where we met... So I went to check.’

“Oh, I see.” You respond, a bit embarrassed. “I should have warned you about my brother's flair for dramatics. He tends to do that when he's the star of the event.”

‘Do you have any remaining commitments here at the ball?’

That makes you think for a moment. “No, Satoru's the one the people want to bother today. Why?”

Toge gives you a look that makes you want to agree to almost anything he asks. ‘Will you allow me to whisk you away?’

And so you were both running, hand-in-hand and laughing, on your way to that secluded hall with the stained glass window. It shouldn't have been possible, but it felt more magical than before to be with him here again.

Toge slows his steps when you both reach the window. You realize that despite coming to cherish this place, you never sought it out when he wasn't around. Something tells you that would have only made you miss him more.

Looking at you with a serious expression, he begins to sign, ‘I know I have been very upfront about myself caring about you... But I want to ask this properly, because you deserve nothing less than the best.’

‘I would like—if it is alright with you, to formally court you.’

The smile on your face glows before you can help it, and you throw your arms around him.

“I would very much like that as well, my dear prince.” You lean to kiss his cheek.

Toge looks dazed and happy as if drunk on something you had given him. Maybe he was.

The moonlight shining through the glass paints him in a kaleidoscope of colors. Before, the only colors on him were the purple hues in his eyes. And now he stood before you, bright and shining.

‘You look beautiful.’

He took the words right out of your mouth.

⋆｡˚ 🌸 ˚｡⋆｡˚✨˚｡⋆

Satoru came to find you the day after the banquet. Naturally, he entered your office without knocking, and unceremoniously dropped a heavy document in front of the one you were already working on.

“What's this?”

“Toge's proposal...”

The floor seemed to sink, your heart and your breath gone along with it. “What?”

“—for the trade negotiations.”

It took everything in your power to not throw the block of papers at him. “You're unbelievable.”

Satoru only hummed. “So is your boyfriend. I can't believe he's making me work right after my birthday! He should be kissing up to me, not giving me paperwork!”

“Last time I checked, he's courting me. Not you.” Nevertheless, you take a few moments to sift through the document. It was very detailed and efficient. You note that the length of the proposal was due to the many alternative plans Toge had prepared. This would certainly help the negotiations go smoothly. Satoru and the ministers merely had to look at the options.

Looking back to your brother, you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. What was he complaining about, when all he had to do was select the best plan and tweak where it was necessary?

“We're to begin the negotiations in two days. I think his plans have potential—” You couldn't help but snort at that, from what you'd seen, Toge was already excellent. (You were not biased. Not at all.) “But, I don't think the older ministers will be kind to someone who acts like a know-it-all.”

“Toge doesn't—”

“A-ah,” Satoru waves a finger at you, as if you were a child being told what you did wrong. You scowl at him but he ignores it. “This will be a test for him, to see if he's able to win against those old goons.”

“You mean yourself, then?” His expression drops at that, and you don't bother to hide how satisfied that made you feel.

⋆｡˚ 🌸 ˚｡⋆｡˚✨˚｡⋆

As the weeks flew by, Toge ended up being a lot more busy than you both anticipated. Despite officially dating, lunches together turned to having tea during breaks; then that turned to catching him in the hallway for a few moments before he had to go.

You didn't understand why his workload only seemed to grow, no matter how much effort he put in. Once, when you caught him just before he entered his chambers, you had asked him if anything was going wrong with the negotiations.

Toge looked exhausted, and yet he gave you a smile that made your heart melt. ‘No, the talks are going well, I suppose I'm just having trouble adjusting to the empire's work culture.’

You must have looked unconvinced, because Toge suddenly leaned in and rested his forehead against yours. Mischievously, he stared into your eyes until you were too flustered to be worried anymore. He laughed when you had to push him away.

That night, he bid you farewell with a kiss to your cheek.

‘Good night, darling.’

The next time you had Toge to yourself for an entire day, it was due to a holiday celebration. Everyone was too occupied with the festivities to work. You were supposed to be at another banquet Satoru had hosted, but you were determined to monopolize Toge's time today.

So you showed up at his door at the earliest respectable hour of the morning, dressed for warm weather and a picnic basket in your hand.

“Will you allow me to whisk you away?” You asked when he answered the door.

You took him on a tour of the parts of the palace he hasn't seen yet. Your office, the private library, and even some of the secret passage ways. His eyes lit up with curiosity when you showed him one behind a portrait.

You had lunch in the gardens, under a tree that offers wonderful shade. A soft blanket laid across the grass, with a spread of the empire's specialty dishes arranged all over it.

“This one,” You show Toge a cookie with flowers piped on top. “Has been my favorite since I was a child. It has just the perfect amount of sweetness, and goes beautifully with tea.”

You move to hand Toge the cookie, but he doesn't take it. Confused, you're about to ask him if anything was wrong when he leans forward and opens his mouth expectantly.

Wordlessly, you raise the cookie to his lips. The moment feels oddly intimate as he takes a bite without removing his gaze from yours.

Toge hums and moves his hands to sign, ‘It's indeed delicious.’ He leans to you and opens his mouth again.

You push the half-eaten cookie into his hands and turn away to hide your blush. “If you're able to tell me what you think about it, you can eat it yourself.”

He breathes out a laugh. Smirking at you while he chews the remaining cookie.

It was so peaceful, just sitting there with him. And it seemed as though you weren't the only one who wanted to sit with Toge. A tiny white butterfly fluttered about before landing on his knee. He looked so enchanted by it. Staring close, but being careful that he didn't move his knee or disturbed it.

The butterfly flying away made you want to explore too. Getting yourself up, you look over your shoulder and gesture for him to follow. He offers you his arm once he catches up, and you rest your hand on it. Birds chirp and leaves rustle in the wind as you walk towards the shimmering lake at the edge of the gardens.

Bracing yourself on Toge's arm, you kick your shoes off. You set them aside to dip your toes into the water. “It's so refreshing!”

Toge feels his chest grow as warm as the sunlight kisses your cheeks. He gets down on one knee to untie his shoes when he's abruptly hit by a splash of water. Flabbergasted, he looks up at you, blinking away the water droplets in his lashes.

Of course, Toge isn't one to back down from a challenge. The result is the both of you shivering and drenched by the time the sun has set. Your maids fuss all over you when you get back to the palace, and the other staff almost faint at the puddles that trail after you and Toge.

It was useless to insist that you could walk alone and that you both should get cleaned up at the soonest. Toge didn't leave your side until you entered your chambers, your gazes only being broken by the door once it closed.

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You got the most dreadful fever after that day with Toge. Satoru, wanting you to rest properly, made you swear not to lift a finger for work related reasons until you got better. Which, you followed without complaint. You took a break for a few days.

Toge did his best to see you, but he only got busier. His eyes looked more and more tired, dark circles under them when you caught him in the library one morning. He stayed there to work overnight. You were barely able to convince him to rest.

On another night, one of your maids caught him trying to sneak in your room, screaming and kicking him out. You could have sworn half the palace had woken up to that, and you couldn't help but hide under your sheets due to the embarrassment.

What irritates you most, however, was that the first thing you heard when you get back is, “Oh. Finally decided to return to your duties, eh?” from a delegate who spent most of his time gossiping, and whose biggest contribution to the empire was refilling the inkwells in the conference room...

The conference room has five inkwells.

Those ministers and court members were proving more and more to be nuisances. You gave them an earful when they had assumed you were slacking off when you were sick.

Not to mention, you suspected that they have been making Toge do more work than he needs to. Even if he never complains, you don't fail to notice how some courtiers turn their noses up at him just because his kingdom was distant and smaller compared to the scale of the empire.

The thought of Toge being belittled makes you pause during work, frowning at a chart of kitchen expenses as if it's done something offensive.

Dropping your pen, you head out of your office with brisk steps. You had to speak to Satoru.

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“Overworking Toge? Why, dear sister, I can't believe you're accusing me of such a thing!” Satoru puts a hand to his heart as if he was wounded by your words.

“Maybe not.” You're not going to let him weasel out of this one. “But you let the other ministers and court members walk all over him! Is Toge supposed to just sit there and take it? He's a prince, damn it!”

“Listen,” Satoru leans forward, his elbows on his desk as he uses his hands while explaining. “The ministers are just a bit frazzled, that's all. They think he forced you to skip the holiday banquet, and that he got you sick. He's good at his work, sure. But in their eyes? He just looks like a bad influence on you.”

You scoff.

“Now,” Satoru interrupts before you can say anything, “They were going to try and match you with prince Megumi—”

“Megumi's already engaged.”

“I know, I know. And that's why they're planning on pitching you with prince Yuji or princess Nobara.”

“I'm already with Toge.” You say sternly. “And what happened to not letting others make my decisions for me?”

“As far as those old goons are concerned, Toge is only the third best for you. ‘For the greatness of the empire’ and all that.” It doesn't escape you that he dodged your question. “They're going to try to push you apart until you break up or get hitched.” He leans back, crossing his arms on his chest. “Whichever comes first.”

“Why don't you stop them?” Frustrated, you run your hands through your hair. “Tell them I really like him and that they should leave him alone!”

“Sweetheart,” Satoru's tone becomes deeper, and you hate how it instantly makes you shut up. “The thing is, if Toge isn't capable of handling this, or if he backs out of your relationship because of it, he's not worth your time.”

You stare at him, unlinking. The thought of Toge leaving you had never occurred to you before, and Satoru could tell.

“I told you I would test him.” He shrugged. “It seems I'm testing you too.”

Rushing back to your office, you grab a piece of parchment and your pen from your desk. Not bothering to sit down as you write: Meet me at the gardens, by the tree. Midnight.

You fold it and hastily stuff it into an envelope. Delicately melting wax, you stamp your seal onto it before calling for your most trusted maid.

Handing her the letter, you instruct her, “Deliver this to prince Toge and prince Toge only. If anyone hinders you or attempts to read it, report back to me immediately. Go.”

She bows, and exits the room.

That night, Toge arrived before you. You note that he has a penchant for being early as he reaches to squeeze your hand. He looks you over to check if you're alright, and despite seeing nothing of concern, he asks anyway, ‘Are you okay?’

“We need to talk.” You nervously purse your lips. “The courtiers, the ministers... My brother. They've been making your work difficult.”

He sighs. ‘You found out.’

“You didn't tell me!” You rest a hand on his cheek, absentmindedly grazing your thumb over the marks near his mouth. “Do you understand what they're trying to do?”

‘Testing me.’

“Yes.” A lump forms in your throat. “Satoru said it's until you give up on me, or if you... propose.”

Heart racing, your hands can't stop fiddling with things. His face. His hair. The fastenings of his suit. “I'm just so worried. I care a great deal about you, and I just wanted to ask if you're enduring this because you want to.” You bite your lip in thought. “If it's because you're sure about... me.”

You can't look at him. You suddenly feel foolish. You should have given it a night and slept on it to gather your thoughts. You should have—

Toge embraces you. Everything stops.

You take in the view of the gardens over his shoulder. It was dark, and there was barely any light save for the stars twinkling above. You closed your eyes and let yourself be held.

Pulling away, he doesn't seem as fazed as you do, if at all. He turns to you slowly, and after taking a deep breath...

‘Marry me, then.’

You choke on air.

“Wh-what?!” A warmth creeps into your cheeks. “What are you—”

He places his hands on your shoulders and stares into your eyes. He gives you a look and mouths, ‘Breathe.’ And you do.

Once you've calmed down, he begins to explain.

‘We can come forward and make a statement that we've been seeing each other with marriage in mind. Which...’ He pauses, suddenly shy. ‘I have. I've been thinking about swearing everything to you... Intertwining my future with yours.’

‘I know it's only been a few months, so we could have a long engagement if you want. For us to get to know each other more. And if—’ Toge's hands freeze, his movements are slow as if the next words pain him.

‘...If you decide to break off the engagement, I will not force you to stay with me.’

You immediately stop his hands, holding them tightly with your own.

“Toge... I wouldn't even consider this with anyone else,” You feel genuinely happy as you smile at him. “But I'm willing to try. With you. Only you.”

He glows in a way that reminds you of when you first met. His expression is soft as if he's melting, and he smiles at you brightly. You think of how lucky you are that he looks at you this way.

‘This isn't the way I wanted it to happen, but...’

Toge picks a small, white flower from a bush nearby. It faintly reminds you of the butterfly that had flown to him the last time you were here together. His eyes are focused and he frowns in concentration as he fiddles with the stem. Your heart stutters as he makes... a delicate ring.

He kneels.

You say yes.

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A letter from you and Toge arrives on Satoru's desk the next day.

‘Dearest brother,

Please approve this statement that prince Toge and I have been seeing each other, and that we have decided to get engaged. You will find the formal document stamped with our seals attached to this letter.

We expect your approval posthaste, and I will not consider any objections. Please let us know when you will be available to discuss the engagement ceremony.’

“Your highness, what should we do with these documents you had forged?”

“Oh. Hand them over.” Satoru waves a hand to dismiss the attendant after retrieving the files.

He gets up from his desk and walks to the fireplace. “I can't believe he proposed before I could falsely accuse him of treason.” He tsks and throws the documents into the fire.

His eyes find a framed photograph on the fireplace mantel. It was of him and you as children. Satoru was laughing after you ran to him for a hug. His gaze grows sad yet understanding... He won't be the first person you'll turn to anymore when you get married.

Sighing, he considers that he should be thankful you chose someone determined and true like Toge. But then Satoru grins.

“I suppose I can always mess with him as his brother-in-law.”

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© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added to my taglist ♡

[vodika-vibes]

Vodika... could we, please and thank you very much, get another mystic au with the Same Faces Gods? 👉👈 With a commander (Wolffe, Fox, Cody, Mayday, your choice). A first wohoo of love at first sight but busy.

Idk someone tries to appease the gods with a sacrifice, or the imperials try to replicate the technique but it backfires or a friend of 1st reader is a bit clumsy in a good way??

Of course you have every right not to do so!!!!

God Of War

Summary: Your cousin has been missing for months. Her social media has gone dark, and the people in the ExploraCorps have been tight-lipped about her whereabouts. Your family is sick with worry, and no one in the Empire seems willing to help. And then, when you're at work one day, everything changes.

Pairing: Commander Fox x F!Reader

Word Count: 3079

Warnings: Mentions of attempted human sacrifice, and kidnapping

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Thanks for your request! I wasn't sure if you wanted smut or not, so I erred on the side of caution and left this largely SFW. SFWish. I hope you like it!

You peek around your mother to look at your aunt. She’s sitting at the kitchen table, her hands wrapped tightly around one of your cousin’s old stuffed animals. Her eyes are glassy with tears. Your uncle has been staring out the back window since you and your mother arrived.

“Are they okay?” You ask, your voice quiet to not be overheard.

Your mother presses her lips together, and lightly cups your face, “Never you mind,” She admonishes, “They’ll be alright. So far as we know, your cousin is alive. They’re just worried about her.”

“The ExploraCorps hasn’t said anything?”

Your mother tapped your nose, “Never you mind.” She leans in and kisses your cheek, “Go on, baby. You’re going to be late for work.”

Worriedly, you gaze at your aunt and uncle and then back to your mother, “Are you sure? Senator Organa won’t mind giving me the day.”

“I’m sure. I’ll take care of them today,” She lightly pets your cheek, then turns back to her brother and sister-in-law.

You watch them momentarily, then turn and hurry out of their house. Luckily, the taxi is still waiting for you and you climb in the back before giving the driver your destination, the senate building. 

When you completed the placement tests as a child, you had a predisposition for politics and law. You were lucky and were selected to be an assistant for Senator Bail Organa, rather than some of the less agreeable Senators. 

He’s an agreeable man, with a big heart, and has come to view you like a beloved niece. When you told him that you were going to be late that morning due to a family emergency, he offered to give you the whole day.

If you thought that your presence would help your aunt and uncle, you’d take him up on that offer. But your uncle took one look at you and nearly collapsed to the ground in his grief.

You pay your taxi driver and head into the Senate Dome, walking the familiar path without really paying attention. It’s late enough in the day that there aren’t many people roaming the halls.

Which is good for you, because you’re not paying the most attention to your surroundings. 

You don’t snap back to yourself until you open the door to Senator Organa’s office and he says your name. You focus your attention on him, and he smiles kindly, “I wasn’t expecting to see you until this afternoon.”

You pause, and then duck your head, “Sorry, Senator. My presence wasn’t helping things, so Mom said to come in.”

He looks worried, “Is everything alright?”

Your hands curl into fists, “My cousin is a member of the ExploraCorps. She’s missing. Has been for months, and no one is telling us anything. Her social media has gone dark and…” You trail off, “Well, we’re worried.”

“I can understand that. Would you like me to reach out?”

“I appreciate it, Senator. But I doubt you’ll get an answer any different than what we got.” You sigh, “I just need something to do, that’s all.”

He walks over to you, and lightly places his hand on your shoulder, “Well, I have a lot of that. Would you be a dear, and deliver this stack of missives for me?”

You glance at the small stack of brown envelopes, and then you nod, “For the Perkins Bill?”

“Indeed. I’m sure it’s going to pass, everyone supports it, but we need to do things properly.” He walks over to his desk and hands you the stack of envelopes. “Take your time, there’s no rush.”

“Yes, Senator.” You reply as you flip through the envelopes, and then pause when you get to the last one, “Senator?”

“Yes?”

“This last envelope isn’t labeled.”

“Oh?” He takes it, and stares at it in bewilderment, “I think this goes to the ExploraCorps.”

You stare at him.

“Ah, hold on.” He moves around his desk to open the envelope, and scans the content inside, “Ah, I was wrong. This goes to the Director of the MediCorps.”

A frown pulls at your lips, “Wasn’t the director of the MediCorps recently replaced?”

“Yes, he was.” Senator Organa flips open a binder and scans a sheet of paper at the top, “The current director is…hm…ah, here she is. Doctor Yasmin Kelb.”

“What happened to Doctor Trudel?” 

“Medically Retired.” Senator Organa replies, “Cancer.”

“That’s a shame.”

“It is.” You watch as he seals the paper in a new envelope and labels it to Doctor Kelb, “Here you go. Once you deliver all of these, come on back. I’ll have some more for you then.”

“Yes, Senator.”

“Good, lass. Off you run.”

You turn and leave his office, and stop in the hallway to organize the envelopes in a way that makes sense to you. Mentally, you map out the senate building and organize the delivery schedule in such a way that you won’t have to backtrack a lot, and then you start making deliveries.

The nicest thing about being Bail Organa’s aide is that you’re largely invisible. The people you work with don’t see you so much as Senator Organa’s crest on your nice jacket, and it gives you access to places where you normally wouldn’t have access.

It’s only fair. Senator Organa is a very well-respected man, almost as well respected as his lady wife. And anyone who is even remotely attached to him is treated with the same amount of respect.

It’s one of the few perks of your job.

The other one is the daily free food and coffee.

Finally, you only have the envelope for Doctor Kelb, and so you hop on the elevator to go up to the Director of the MediCorps office. Only to find yourself in front of an empty room.

“Everything alright?” A security guard asks as he walks over to you, glancing at the crest on your jacket, and the straightening.

“I have a message to deliver to Doctor Kelb for Senator Organa. Did the location of the MediCorps office change?”

“Yes ma’am,” He nods once, “They’re in the basement now. At Doctor Kelb’s request. You’ll find her office next to Director Frosch’s office.”

Slowly, you nod, “Next to the Office of the ExploraCorps?”

“That’s right.”

You hum thoughtfully, “Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome. Have a good day, ma’am.”

“You as well.” You turn and head back to the elevator, bypassing the first one and heading to the second one. There’s only one elevator that heads to the basement, for security reasons, luckily you already have an access card and you don’t have to go ask the Senator to use his.

You wave your card over the panel next to the elevator, and the door slides open several moments later. You hit the button for sublevel one, and you wave your card over the panel inside the elevator, which allows the doors to slide shut and the elevator to start moving. 

It takes almost a whole minute to get to sublevel 1, that’s just how massive the senate building is, and you scrunch up your nose at the scent. The sublevel smells like a disgusting mix of antiseptic, the pine of the cleaning solution that cleaners use, and mildew. There must be a water leak somewhere.

You walk down the hall until you reach Director Frosch’s office, and you peer at the two offices next to his. 

One is empty, it used to belong to the director of the EduCorps, but EduCorps was moved to the local university several months ago. But the other one has a temporary door sign marking it as the office of Doctor Yasmin Kelb.

The door is shut, but you can see a light on under the door, so you lightly knock and wait.

The door swings open so suddenly, and with such force, that you jump back.

If you were to meet Doctor Kelb on the street, you’d think that she was a professional dancer. Less thin and more willowy. She towers over you, standing nearly the same height as your uncle as best as you can tell, and she squints at you through a pair of wireframe glasses. “What?” She demands, impatiently.

“Doctor Kelb? I have a missive for you from Senator Organa-” You start, holding out the envelope, only to blink as the woman rips it from your hands.

“Yes, yes. Good.” She vanishes into her office, and you stare at the spot where the woman had been standing, wondering if you should just leave, only to jump when she appears again, “What are you doing?” She demands, “Follow.”

“I…yes, Doctor!” You step into her office and she slams the door shut behind you.

Her office is a mess. Boxes and books and loose papers leave very little walking space.

“Ignore the mess,” The Doctor says as she brushes past you, knocking a box full of papers to the floor. “I just moved in.” 

Her office is a lot bigger than any of the other offices. It almost looks like her office continues deeper beneath the Senate Building. 

“Doctor?” You ask.

“What?”

“Where are you taking me?” 

The woman sighs explosively, “Keep up, girl.” It’s not a very neat side-step of your question, and you’re starting to get an eerie feeling, as though you should probably leave.

“...Senator Organa will be waiting for me.” You say as you slow to a stop.

The woman sighs again and spins to look at you. There’s a frightening look on her face, and you take half a step back, only to trip over a book and fall.

“This,” Doctor Kelb says to you as she advances on you, a syringe in her hand, “is for the good of the Empire.”

“W-wait-!” You try to scramble back but there’s nowhere to go. 

You feel the sharp sting of a needle entering your neck and the cold feeling of something entering your body. Panicked, you manage to kick the woman off of her, but you only manage to get a few feet away from her before whatever she injected you with takes hold.

A terrified sob falls from you, even as the world fades to darkness.

Slowly, you come back to yourself.

You’re in a dimmed room, and you seem to be lying on stone. 

Immediately you know that you’re either no longer in the senate building, or you’re so deep beneath the building that you might as well be somewhere else. 

Slowly you sit up to take stock of your surroundings. 

The first thing you note is that you’re naked, even your hair tie has been removed. Your feet are chained to this stone bed, though there doesn’t appear to be anything keeping you from moving. 

There’s a deep gash on the palm of your left hand. Curiously, it’s already been wrapped in bandages.

You turn your attention away from yourself and to your surroundings. It appears that you’re in some kind of ritual circle, like the ones you learned about in history class all those years ago.

Across from you is a stone table. You can’t see, exactly, what’s on it, but you do see a blanket folded on the table, as well as the skull of some type of animal.

Around the edges of the circle is Doctor Kelb, as well as several members of the ExploraCorps.

They don’t seem to notice, or care, that you’re awake. 

“We have everything,” Director Frosch insists, “This is exactly what the ritual entails.”

“I agree.” Doctor Kelb says with a dispassionate glance at you, before she looks back at the director, “Best get started before the sacrifice starts making a nuisance of herself.”

“Yes, yes.” Doctor Frosch strokes his beard and then picks up a lighter and lowers it to a divot in the ground.

You watch, in numb horror, as flames spring to life around you. Blocking the people who kidnapped you from sight.

They mean to burn you alive.

You’re only thought, hope, is that maybe it’ll be quick. Maybe your death won’t hurt too much.

The flames lick up the sides of the stone bed you’re strapped and you can feel the almost cold heat of the flames licking the soles of your feet. You slam your eyes shut, you don’t want to see this.

Then the impossible happens.

The flames bend away from you, the pain in your feet fades, and a cool hand presses against your cheek. Tearfully, you look up.

A man is standing over you, just as naked as you are, but strangely, you aren’t afraid of him. “It’s going to be okay.” He says soothingly, as he drapes the blanket over your shoulders and wraps it around you.

You start as the manacles holding you to the stone bed shatter as if they were never there to begin with. “Who-?”

His other hand presses against your cheek, tilting your head back so you’re meeting his gaze, “My name is Fox. I am the patron god of the forgotten and the abused.” Something like malice slides across his face, “I do not think they meant to summon me.”

Even with the malice rolling off of him in waves, you’re still not afraid of him.

Then he smiles at you, soft and warm, and he lightly presses his lips against your forehead, “All will be well. I promise.” The flames finally die down and Fox helps you off the bed and stands you behind him. “Stay behind me, ad’ika.”

You nod mutely and cower behind him.

Director Frosch and Doctor Kelb step into the circle, “Finally.” The director says, “Proof.”

Fox gazes at them dispassionately.

“We are the ones who summoned you,” Doctor Kelb says, “You have to obey us.”

“Oh? I didn’t see you in the summoning circle,” Fox replies.

The two adults share a look before the Director clears his throat, “We are at war, we need your expertise to destroy our enemies.”

Fox smiles, “I am a god of war.”

“Yes! So you can kill our enemies for us-”

“I am not a god of slaughter.” Fox interrupts.

“Then…then you can tell us strategies to help us win-”

“I am not a strategic god.”

“Then who-?”

Fox advances on them, “I am a god of war. I am every mother who has lost her son. Every wife who has lost her husband. Every orphaned child.” He pauses and glances at you, “...every sacrifice. Everyone who has been forgotten and abused.”

The protective circle crumbles, not meant to hold the will of a deity, and the people who kidnapped you scramble back as shadows pool at Fox’s feet.

“How dare you call on me.”

You see the shadows sliding across the floor, and you slam your eyes shut as the shadows lift from the ground. This isn’t for your eyes. Even though you can’t see what’s happening, you can hear it.

Screaming, and begging, and the sound of something sharp cutting through flesh.

And then-

Silence.

The silence is almost deafening, and you only open your eyes when you feel those cool fingers against your face again.

“They will never harm you, or anyone else, again,” Fox says. There’s blood splattered on his face, and you use the corner of the blanket to reach up and wipe the blood off of his face.

His gaze softens as he watches you.

“What happens now?” You ask.

Fox hums thoughtfully as he takes your hand in his, “I have never had a priestess before. Though, I’ve also never had a priest before either. People generally aren’t fool enough to summon me.”

“I didn’t-”

“Shh.” He presses his finger against your lips, “I know you didn’t summon me. But, you are mine. Mine to protect, mine to hold, mine to love.”

Your face heats at his words. Not that you’re complaining. You feel drawn to him, and you wonder if the ritual had something to do with that. But it doesn’t matter. Not really.

You don’t want to leave his side.

Fox moves his finger from your lips and leans in so his lips are hovering over yours, “I should finish the claiming,” He murmurs, chuckling as you try to lean in to kiss him, “But we’re not safe yet. And I want to take my time with claiming you.”

He pulls away and you make a disappointed noise.

Fox chuckles, “Patience, ner ad’ika. When we’re safe, I will give you everything you want and more.”

You try to hide your disappointment, but you must not do a great job of it, as Fox leans in and trails his lips from your ear to your jaw. It’s like shooting electricity down your spine.

He chuckles, “Oh, ad’ika, I am going to have fun playing with you.” Fox pulls away, “Is there someone safe in this building?”

“Um…Senator Organa is a good man.” You say, your face heated from embarrassment. 

“Then we should go to him.”

“W-wait! We can’t walk through the Senate naked!” You blurt.

Fox pauses and glances at you, and then down at himself, “I suppose you have a point. Can you get him here?”

“If I can find a phone, yes.” You step out of the ritual circle, and make a face at the bodies, “Gross.”

“They insulted me.” Fox says as he sits on the stone bed you were just chained to, “They’re lucky I didn’t do worse.”

“Ah, found one!” You pick up a working phone and dial a number you know by heart, “Uh…what should I say about you?” You ask as the phone starts ringing. 

Fox just shrugs and leans back slightly, his dark eyes locked on you, an almost hungry look on his face.

Slightly flustered, you turn away from him as your boss answers the phone. You give him a very abridged version of what happened, but you have the feeling that he knows something is wrong because he promises to be there immediately. 

“He’ll be here in a bit.”

Fox hums, and pats the stone bed next to him, “How about you tell me exactly what’s happening here?”

“I can do that.” You move to sit next to him, only for him to pull you onto his lap and bury his face in your neck. 

Absently, you wrap your arms around him and play with his curls at the base of his neck as you start talking. You know that nothing is going to be the same now.

You hope your mother will forgive you.

[kiwanopie]

heyyy!! do u think we can get some sort of drabble with crime!au kiyoomi and his fiancé?? i’d love to see how they interact ~~~~ :)))

You pick at a hangnail as dress shoed feet click before you.

You don’t lift your head as orchestral music muffles under the click of a shutting door. You don't even hear it. Too immersed in your own racing thoughts to hear anything outside of the rattling in your skull. It’s ironic how radiant you look in your wedding dress. So aglow you compliment the gemstones in your tiara. Because you feel so sick you could puke your guts out till your stomach lining tore. So high strung you haven’t slept since he parted with you the day before.

Your pupils scutter over nothing as you pick at the skin until it bleeds. Tear it off your nail until the elastic of your cuticle strips down to the root of your thumb, and feel it start to ail as the wound throbs. You barely notice. Rather, stay clueless to the sting in the midst of your silent daze.

But it’s short lived. Those familiar larger palms incase your hands in their loving grip, careful in their cradle. He’s flower petal gentle as he brings one of your hands toward himself and wraps your thumb in a thin bandage. And even in his crouched position beside the makeup chair does he almost see eye to eye with you, all 6’4 of him meagerly attempting to look as small as possible for a woman he has no intention of causing any more distress to.

His voice is balming, it always is when he addresses you. “What are you thinking about, angel?”

You silently furrow into his hands.

“I-I’m…”

“I don’t...” You shake your head. “I’m sorry. Everybody’s out there waiting for me and I-I’m-“

Kiyoomi cuts you off quietly. “Don’t even think about that. Today is about us. No one else.”

You frown.

“I’m… Kiyoomi… Out of all people…” And it’s a good thing this makeup is waterproof because you’re surely about to push it to its limit. “Why me? Why choose me?”

“Don’t ask me a question like that.”

“But why, Omi?” Your lip wobbles. “I-I’m not like you. I don’t think like you, I don’t have the same training that you do, o-or the strength to be able to handle a lifestyle like this. I’m not the wife of a kingpin. The only reason I’m here is because-“

Kiyoomi firmly shushes you as he stands to his feet. Too burly and too tall, blocking out the overhead lights till the raven tufts of curls on his scalp turn miscolored and fluorescent. Like always your eyes follow him in his movements, like always, he’s ginger as he pulls you in his grasp.

Your nose is mushed into the cotton of his button up, his lips are warm and definite as he presses them against your forehead. “I don’t care about titles or circumstance. I don’t care about any of those things...” Kiyoomi swallows. “I love you and I need you. If this lifestyle is what you’re worried about then I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you’re safe and taken care of.”

You sniffle against his dress shirt. Something like that should be comforting. Especially in the arms of your future husband - one half of a bonafide national empire, and you, soon to be its elegant latter halve. Saying you fear your safety may have been a little asinine to say. In this past year and a half, you haven't so much as gotten a splinter without being assured that whatever half-cocked piece of wood that wronged you would wind up making soot prints in some landfill. You could throw a rock and hit a corpse before it even got the chance to berate you. Saying something like that will only encourage him more. An excuse to distance you from your public freedoms, and hire men that all but follow you around and chew your food for you. And even though it’s pig shit to deal with, it's already habitual. It gives you room to keep your fears to a one man minimum. But with that being said,

Kiyoomi skims his nose down the bridge of yours till his breath is kissing fever spots on your Cupid’s bow. Shivery puffs of desperate air, overwhelmed in his distance. He pinkens like a schoolboy when he’s too close for too long. Amps himself up just to trill at the high he gets from being this near - but not near enough to taste the bliss that’s your candied lips. He loves you. - He loves you. He loves you. So much it makes him shudder. Even in the short time he’s had his hands on you his palms have gone sweaty. Making hotspots on your cheekbones as he thumbs your stray tears aside.

“I know we’re not the most… conventional couple,” Quasi-post-Stockholm syndrome? “How hard things were for you in the beginning, and how much it took for us to get here. I wish I could’ve done this the right way. - You deserve that much.”

“But I love you so much it makes me sick. It’s the only thing that keeps me breathing.”

You lean into his hands as he scoots away to get a good look at you. His lovesick eyes turn the whites of yours a stinging scarlet, and you hate that seeing him get choked up cuts you so deeply.

But he only ever really cries in front of you anyway. A man this neck deep in generational human trafficking, drug trading, arms dealing, and like a million other equally awful things, should have his fair moments to excuse himself for a quiet weep. “Kiyoomi…”

“I’m sorry,” He leans in for a watery kiss. “I’m sorry. Weakness is the last thing we need from me right now.”

You guide his head against yours, and share the weight with a linchpin. It’s so recurrent that it’s earnest when you console him. “Wellness is, baby. This is about the both of us.”

“I… already don’t know what my life would be like without you. I never think about it. Every day it’s you and when are you gonna be home. - Are you gonna come back to me in one piece? Will you still be you and will you love me the same? What would I do alone in that big house?”

You mirror his thumb as you sweep away his tears. “What would I do if I didn’t have you anymore?”

The way Kiyoomi melts into your grasp is like the anodyne of a baby bird, crooning as you assague him. There’s nothing on this earth that could give him the comfort you do, and the realization of that feels brand new every time.

It’s a fresh wound. Accustomed to your chains to the extent that each chafe feels like a kiss. Metal burrowing in torrid welts, but the key’s a stipulation. Only freed by requisition.

“It’s not about safety… if anything happens to us. I’d rather it be me.” You whisper. “If not to know you’ll keep living, my peace would be in finally resting. Not wondering. Not worrying.”

“Regardless of our unconventionality,” You kiss him. “I love you.”

“Regardless of our unconventionality,” You kiss him. “I love you.”

“Regardless of our unconventionality,” You kiss him. “I love you.”

“Regardless of our unconventionality,” You kiss him. “I love you.”

It’s a fresh wound. Accustomed to your chains to the extent that each chafe feels like a kiss. Metal burrowing in torrid welts, but the key’s a stipulation. Only freed by requisition.

“It’s not about safety… if anything happens to us. I’d rather it be me.” You whisper. “If not to know you’ll keep living, my peace would be in finally resting. Not wondering. Not worrying.”

“Regardless of our unconventionality,” You kiss him. “I love you.”

[wolfythewitch]

Hi, just found your Zombie AU and I LOVE it! I do have a couple of questions though.

In some earlier asks, you mentioned that some other members of MCYT (like Grian, GTWS, etc.) are in this AU, but what others are present? Any other members from Hermitcraft, Empires, etc.? If so, can we hear some more about them?

-🦊

Uhhhhh hmmm

Most of them are gonna be more background characters tbh, which is why I haven't given it much thought

Boatem are scientists in charge of researching a cure

I like to think Joel and Lizzie are kinda just vibing somewhere, possibly in a faction with a few of the other empires members. Personally I think Lizzie should have a gun.

Etho and bdubs had a good run, but bdubs got zombified I'm sorry. Etho's eye kind of became collateral damage, but it's okay Pearl managed to fix it up with a prosthetic

The flower husbands? Is that the right word? Also had a good run, managed to survive for a while, even figured out how to grow a working garden in one of the old terraces. Unfortunately, they were cornered and turned into zombies. If it helps, they never stopped holding each other's hands, and still haven't let go even as zombies

I like to think a lot of lifesteal members are just out there wreaking havoc and kicking ass. Nothing specific really, just a lot of action movie vibes

[nightcovefox]

Random Facts!

Random Facts about Kirby and Friends (+My Oc) in Empires AU!~

I was bored making this soooooo spare meeeeeee—

>>>>>>>>

Kirby wasn’t actually born with a tail! He got his tail from drinking a potion from Halia! It was an accident and he thought it was a smoothie at first-

Bandee has a soft spot to play with yarn. Even tho he’s a kitsune fox, he loves to play with yarn and even sleep with it! It calms him down when he’s angry…

Meta Knight loves to eat blood oranges! It calms down his satisfaction of blood and he likes oranges.

King Dedede sleeps with his son Bandee or (sometimes) Meta Knight in his bedroom. He doesn't like to sleep alone, he prefers to sleep with someone he’s close to. He can sleep with Kirby… what irritates him is his DAMN TAIL- (KD: *gets hit/slapped by Kirby’s tail when he’s asleep—*)

Adeleine is the type of gal to sleep when the music box is playing in her room. She has a small collection of music boxes that were gifted by her friends and herself.

Ribbon loves to write letters to her friends! She loves when someone replies to her letters it just makes her heart melt! But if it’s Prince Fluff and Kirby.. That made her heart flutter.

Dark Matter Blade loves to read stories to send his siblings to sleep. Doesn't matter the genre.. Well, no horror. He and his siblings don’t want to be scared again.

Gooey loves to be in anyone's hoodie! It’s so safe and comfy!! He could fall asleep very easy..

Daroach surprisingly gives good fashion tips. Magolor or Halia always ask for his advice.

Sword is scared of thunderstorms. What calms him down if he sleeps before the thunderstorms or cuddles with Blade or Meta Knight. Mostly Blade.

Blade is very good at giving Walt dancing lessons. He is a very polite gentleman under that Knight's armor. Meta Knight always comes to him so he can waltz with his majesty.

Tiff and Tuff those two always carry a dagger or w whip to protect themselves. Given by Meta Knight himself.

Marx can interact with people’s dreams. And those who talk to Marx will still remember when they wake up.

Dolos loves to cook and bake! He can bake/cook some adorable stuff!! Bear shape cookies?! Yes, please!!! A cat whipped cream on a hot chocolate? Oh so adorable!!!

Halia two bells were given by Dimentio. As a gift for being kind and wonderful (Maybe something more?).

Magolor loves to collect shiny stuff! Doesn't matter if it’s old or dangerous. He will still collect it and add it to his collection!

Lor is great at her singing. But she prefers to sing lullabies to Magolor or anyone close.

Susie loves to put seashells in her hair just to make her look stylish or have some curls in her hair~!

Taranza is scared of mirrors, he is not ready to face them just yet. If he ever sees his reflection in a mirror he will cry-

Tasoula wears her mother's scarf. Never takes it off except when she showers.

Maanya loves to eat Mochi. She will carry a box of mochi in her cape pocket. Ice cream or not, she will still eat it.

Escargoon is good with makeup and he will make you fabulous~

Elfilin loves to be on top of people’s heads. They made them feel to be all mighty! “Hey! I’m the King/Queen of the world!!>:3”

Morpho Knight loves to play on the little harp. It brings them peace and calms them down.

Galacta Knight will always have his eyes on Kirby and Meta Knight. Just to keep them safe and will interfere in a fight that did not include him.

Francisca hates getting a brain freeze. She knows she uses ice magic, but getting that freeze in your head? Ugh… the pain.

Flamberge doesn't like fireworks that much. When she's at a distance she’ll enjoy them but when she’s up close- Uh yeah. No. No, thank you.

Zan Partizanne sleeps with a stuffed bear. It was a gift from her sisters back in childhood. It may look beaten up but she still adores it.

Hyness is sorry for what he did to Magolor’s childhood and wants to be there for him.

[stardusthuntress]

EnigmaTech - Ch. 1

My Tech lives AU! This one is based on the idea that the Bad Batch just needs someone with a clear head to follow his trail and appreciate the man for what he is truly capable of! So far I’ve stuck to one-shots and imagines, but this one felt like it needed a little more. I’m not a many-chapter-fic writer, but this one I felt like it could be divided into 3-4 solid chapters that focus on the beloved brainiac. Consider it a mini-series! 

(Part 2)

Chapter 1 - Clues 

Tech x FAB!reader (eventually, but he doesn't meet her quite yet) (just female pronouns; no use of y/n, it’s all in third person [she/her]; no physical description in this one) 

Word Count: ~2.5K

Chapter Summary: Using only what the batch has at their disposal (a lot more than they realize, thank you Tech), a new friend manages to convince them that Tech survived and is in need of their help!

TW: mentions of Tech’s demise (but he lives!); reader infodumping (self-indulgent, sorry! I really connected with Tech on this and this is how I'm coping with the writers' poor decisions at the end of s2); I am a scientist, so I wanted to bring my own experiences into this a bit, hopefully, I got all the details correct, I'm not a geneticist tho, nor a comp sci person, so please be nice if I messed up!

Author's Notes:

Somehow, this came out from Hunter’s pov. Wasn’t exactly the way I’d planned it, and this might change in the next chapter, but I needed a way to illustrate how Hunter was struggling with losing two brothers and his little girl (he's 100% a girl dad now, no going back).

Also, this is totally self-indulgent. I always write she/her/reader's pov like it's me because that's what I know how to do. If I can write from the heart it's more genuine. Hope you guys are okay with that!

I like to make references to other fandoms and stuff when I write, hope you guys don’t mind that. There’s at least 1 blink-and-you-miss it Hamilton reference, among others… hehehe!

Side note, this was not beta'd. I tend to just crank stuff out because it's on my mind, and post it asap so I can get it off my chest. Please lemme know if there are typos and if you guys like it!

Tech dividers by @/djarrex!

She joins the team shortly after Tech and Omega are stolen from them. 

When the bad situation they were in got even worse, they ran to Rex, in need of a calm, collected, commanding presence that wasn’t in the grip of fresh losses to help them figure out what to do next. Rex brought them his best analyst, an old friend who quietly helped out in secret during the war, and now helped him rescue as many brothers as he could. 

Echo knew her. They came up with a few battle strategies together when he was with the 501st. He trusted her with his life. 

Hunter, who always held his trust in reserve to begin with, now trusted even less since Cid is the reason Omega is now in the clutches of the Empire. But Rex and Echo insisted, and he knew they were in dire straights and would not be able to rescue Crosshair and Omega (and Tech) on their own, especially not while their better judgment was clouded with so much pain. 

At first, she just helps AZI patch them up and keep an eye on them as they heal. Slowly, they begin to trust her a little more. As she brings them water so they don’t have to get up, and sits with and chats with Wrecker until he falls asleep, and helps Echo with his prostheses, and always makes a point to do everything quietly to go easy on Hunter’s senses. They appreciate how her effort says she cares.

Eventually they start letting her learn them a bit more. And they learn more about her. She’s an interesting mix. She’s somewhat neurodivergent like Tech - she can go on endless infodumps and loves to learn. But she also has moments where she exhibits what Tech once described to the as “neurotypical behaviors”. She jokes with the men and flirts with them when the time is right. She gets a lot of social cues, but she does miss a fair amount too. The boys learn why Tech describes his differences like a spectrum. 

Eventually, Hunter and Echo come to the realization that she is going to need notes, detailed notes, if they are going to find their lost siblings. They have all tried giving her as many notes as they can remember, but in order to do enough research to find them, she would need to know more about Crosshair and Omega, and no one took notes on everyone quite like Tech did. They decided to give her access to Tech’s notebook, if all 3 of them agree on it. So they confront Wrecker. He’s all in. He trusts her, despite Cid’s betrayal, his determination to see the best in people has hardly wavered. Anything she needs to help them get their brother’s back is fine with Wrecker. And he trusts that if both Hunter and Echo have come to the same conclusion, then it’s worth it. 

For days she sat reading his copious notes, it kept her quiet and distant from them - Hunter was grateful for that, he needed time to adjust to her presence He wasn’t used to being around a woman so often. She brought a different way of existing to the soldier’s lifestyle he was used to. 

Her habits and mindset was somewhat new to him. 

“It may seem like an enigma now, but there are clues everywhere. You just need to know where to look and how to read them” she had said when she began her quest to learn more about their fallen brother, lost brother, and stolen sister. 

He was just grateful he, Wrecker, and Echo didn’t have to re-live the pain watching that horrible moment all over again to try to get something out of it. 

One day she begins to surface from his notes. Hunter braces, he had gotten used to her presence like that, and didn’t think he was ready for the conversations about brother’s end that were certainly coming. 

“This passage here, about Omega… it doesn’t make sense, it’s not Tech’s words” 

“What do you mean?” Hunter peers over her shoulder “that’s him alright, watched him write that one myself shortly after we picked her up.” 

“Oh, that’s not what I meant, sorry… these words are phrased exactly the way he writes everything, his speech patterns, his grammatical ticks, he IS the one that physically wrote the words down, except one thing doesn't match his pattern: the scientific errors. The one thing he knew none of you could check.” 

“So, you’re saying that Tech tricked us?” Hunter’s annoyance is apparent in his tone. His temper was on a short fuse these days, but she understood why. 

“No! I’m saying he’s employing a handy psychology tactic here. Usually used only for one of two purposes: reassurance or manipulation, but it’s definitely the former.” You hold up a hand, knowing Hunter is read to interject and snatch Tech’s datapad away from you for implying Tech would ever deceive his brother’s and harm them. “I know, you watched him write it and he would clearly never hurt any of you intentionally. A later passage about his conversation with Omega about feelings clearly conveys that quite eloquently and explains how deeply he cares for each one of you, but I think he might be trying to protect you from the full truth here, at least until he knowns what it is. As I’m sure you noticed, almost everything he writes has a double meaning, if not a triple meaning.” 

Hunter’s eyes remain narrowed, but he’s quiet, waiting for the whole story before he makes any decisions. He was protective of his little family before, and that’s multiplied tenfold since Cid’s betrayal cost them so much. 

“This passage here uses the word “perfect copy” to describe Omega, but there’s a lot inherently incorrect about that from a scientific perspective, and Tech clearly knows that. Perfection is, technically speaking, unachievable. There’s always something that deviates from the original, just a little, especially when discussing the complexities of genetics. I’m no geneticist, but his notes from when you first met Omega states that according to his scan (the results of which are included in the notes), she bears the female genetic marker - two X allosomes, and no Y - and has since she was created, which in and of itself means that she cannot be a perfect copy of Django who was male at birth, and bears the same male genetic markers that you lot do - an XY allosome pair. Which means, his statement here that she is a “perfect copy” is incorrect and he clearly knows that… at one point he even goes on to describe how she displays more neurotypical traits like you boys, rather than his neurodivergent ones… (whispered) paternal traits indeed, you’re definitely a clone of Django, you shouldn't worry about that Tech... He could be referring to her as a ‘perfect child’, however, again, perfection is inhuman and totally impossible when referring to something as complex as a sentient being, so that’s also unlikely unfortunately, as sweet as it would be for him to describe her like that… Earlier he mentioned that Nala Se told Tarkin that there were 5 ‘genetically deviant clones’ and that that must include Omega because Echo is genetically a ‘Reg’…” 

She turns to face Hunter directly, “Tech knew you were reading this over his shoulder and had access to it. He’s doing his best to describe Omega in a way that will only fortify your protection of her, not because that would ever waver - he describes several times how your paternal instincts are very attached to her, and he is both certain and grateful that nothing could change that - but he does it because she is very important to something, some big secret thing the Kaminoans are doing, though I don’t think he knows what exactly…” she trails off, searching through the datapad for more as she thinks. 

Hunter is shocked, first by her analysis, second by how easily she read Tech, and third by the fact that he, Hunter, is starting to agree with her analysis. “But if they’re ‘not his words’ as you said… then whose words are they?” 

She’s silent for a moment, as she considered this, still scrolling back through Tech’s copious notes. Hunter is struck for a moment how Tech always seemed to write like he was running out of time… 

“I think… I think, based on the way he explains how you lot describe Omega when she’s asleep and your paternal instincts ‘truly appear’ as he puts it, and,” she emerges from Tech’s notes for a moment, and Hunter is struck by how she’s just like Tech “and from my personal experience around you lot… I think he’s using your own words as a way to reassure you. Again, a handy psychology trick when used by a kind hand.” she nervously dives back into Tech’s notes. Hunter notes how she seems to make an effort to not annoy him again. 

She continues with her thought as her mind races on “all of the words he uses to describe Omega have positive connotations, there’s no hidden negativity, which means his intentions are good and not manipulative.” 

She looks up, but doesn’t totally dissociate from the datapad this time, her eyes still glossy wand swirling with thoughts. She opens her mouth like she’s poised to say more, but worry crosses her features “I’m sorry, I’m rambling again. I’ll stop. I do that a lot, I know.” 

She looks around concerned, by this point both Echo and Wrecker have joined the conversation, but none of them can look at her right now. 

Hunter is the first to speak “don’t worry, we’re used to it, Tech does the same thing all the time… or… used to anyways.” 

She tenses a bit “understood, I’m sorry for your loss, I still intend to help you as much as I can. Loss like that is cruel, let’s see if we can get him back, yeah?” 

“Yeah” Hunter relaxes a tiny bit, but feels the sadness of loss settling in. He doesn’t believe Tech could have survived that fall. 

She dives back into the notes. There’s a moment of silence. She continues to read quietly, giving the men a change to exchange quiet glances, feeling better now that they might have someone like Tech, something familiar, who can help them find their family. They find comfort in the quiet as she continues to ponder his scribblings with a knitted brow for a few moments. 

Hunter breaks the silence. “I feel almost ashamed that none of us figured that out. He’s our brother. I guess we didn’t know him as well as we thought we did.” 

“It’s not your fault, Hunter. Same goes for you two,” she pats Echo and Wrecker. “Pain of loss can be blinding. You do know him well, but your own emotions got in the way. It helps to have an outside voice to help you see through the haze of emotions. Nothing wrong with asking for help. I’m  here to help in any way that I can.” 

Her attention shifts again, and she emerges from the datapad completely this time. The hand that clutches it falls to her lap as her eyes find Hunter’s, and he’s not surprised to find a new thought sparkling in them. 

“You said Hemlock gave you back his goggles, did he not?” 

“Yeah” Hunter’s hesitancy returned 

“Don’t worry, I don’t want to hurt any of you lot, either. I just need more information about the incident itself” 

Hunter sighs. 

“Did his goggles still have the recording device on them?”

“How did you know about that? None of us told you about that” 

“He includes many screenshots and videos from them in his notes” 

“Right. Sorry” 

“It’s okay. Hesitancy to trust is natural after being sold out like that, I understand. But please know that I just want to help you find your brothers and sister, they seem like good people, and this Tech fellow is clearly brilliant!” 

Hunter produces the goggles, recording device still attached. 

Echo chimes in “I checked for a recording from it, but scans said there’s nothing on it” 

“No backups? You’re telling me a man like Tech didn’t have backups of everything in a secure format? Is this not his backup datapad full of his notes I’m holding? I’m guessing that somewhere on here is a backup copy he fashioned himself that the Empire wouldn't be able to tamper with, one with a hidden access port - something the Imperials wouldn't know to look for since to them devices like this are usually only remotely accessed” 

She gently detaches the recording device from the goggles and inspects it carefully. The men gather around her and watch her with baited breath. Clearly the Empire did not remove it from the goggles, as there is still a fair amount of dirt on the side that had been next to the band of the goggles. As she gently brushes the dirt off, her finger nail finds the edge of something. Tracing it out, she finds a rectangle in the rubbery casing around the recording device, and gently pops it open. 

“Bingo” she whispers, as though a loud noise will shatter the moment. 

“I think I’m starting to agree with you” Hunter whispers in her ear, quiet enough that only she can hear. 

She inspects the port the silicone hatch revealed “I don’t suppose any of you lot have seen a cable that might fit this lying around somewhere?” 

They sit quietly for a moment, well aware Tech left cables for all sorts of things scattered everywhere. Each contemplating the most likely spot for Tech to keep an important cable like this, before Echo pipes up “I’m betting he’d keep a spare in his spare kit!” 

Wrecker launches out of his makeshift seat to grab the kit, and hands it to Hunter. “You better look for it, I don’t think he’d like me rummaging through his stuff… might break something…” he trails off, clearly sad. 

She pat’s the big guy on the arm and he sits back down, a little closer this time. Seeking her warmth for comfort. 

“He clearly loved and still loves you very much Wreck, even if he has his own way of showing it” 

Wrecker smiles, “thanks Y/N” 

Hunter produces several cords from Tech’s pack and holds them out. “One of these look like it might fit?” 

“Yes!”

Echo reaches for the other end of the cable “what does the other end look like?” She let’s him inspect it while she attaches the one end to the recording device. 

“This one goes here,” he plugs it into the console they sit next to. “Let’s see what he got as…. Let’s see what trail he left for us” 

As the recording comes up on the bigger screen, they all gasp. Most of the contents of the recording are going to be a difficult mess to untangle, but one thing is clear: Tech is very much ALIVE!!!

(Part 2)

Please don't steal my work! I pour my heart into these so if you like it please reblog to share instead of reposting it!

[stirringwinds]

Hi I just spent so long scrolling through your blog, it's an absolute goldmine! I love the way you approach historical hetalia and delve into how these nations feel and interact. This is exactly what got me into hetalia almost decade ago and why I'm still stuck here. The way you characterize the fam is amazing, the dysfunctional relationship betwen Alfred and Arthur, Matt stepping in, etc. I'm rambling at this point but I can't tell you how amazing this blog is and happy I am to find it.

sorry for taking some time to answer this, but genuinely, thank you so much for sending this sweet message! comments like these are exactly why i've stayed in the fandom for so long. and yes, there's so much to explore with the family in hetalia; arthur and alfred are so interesting to think about, within this 'young ambitious crown prince / shrewd and cunning old king' dynamic, conflicting against those moments where there is some longing for a simpler father-son relationship. and lmao, i owe 'Fly-from-Fornication' to a post listing examples of historic Puritan names. something about its outlandishness to modern eyes, and contrast to how older Alfred depicts himself (charming, flirtatious hollywood showman) was very fun.

the other nice thing about being in the fandom for years is that i've had the chance to meet some really cool people, and imo, the best headcanons often come through that collaboration— bouncing ideas off and researching with friends. in this case, i owe a lot of thoughts about the father/son dynamic, alfred's relationship with matt, matt's characterisation (being his father's sword and first dominion, but who also deals with being overshadowed) — and the expanded concept of Jack (AUS) and Zee/Eleanor (NZ) as Alfred's two other siblings to my friend @historia-vitae-magistras (who created many of the original character concepts for Jack and Zee, particularly the latter, whom we've retconned quite a bit from canon).

it's been three years since i first drew that old US/CAN/AUS/NZ sheet about their rship with Arthur, and i do like that i'm not even close to done exploring that history. there is the warmth, alongside the struggles, complexities, ironies and other contradictions about identity and power that arise when kinship is forged out of the saltwater, steel and conflict of empire. irl, i also ended up writing my dissertation with a focus on british imperial history in the pacific context 😂. there is always more history to layer on, especially when i join it to my headcanons of Yao, Kiku, Yong-soo and the SEAsian characters (who I'm still coming up with names for haha). it's one of my favourite areas to explore because these themes of culturally and ethnically mixed identities and familial ties across national lines are very personal to my own family's history and experiences within the british empire. and generally, i love pulling from what i've learned about history and historiography to approach these characters, so i'm very happy my approach to hetalia speaks to you.

[tianshiisdead]

iggychu?

S+ tier, ultra OTP. idc if that rank isn't on the list. Oh man, how do I even start.

Short explanation here, long historic one under the readmore

I will preface this by saying it's a ship with a tumultuous history of imperialism and very real suffering, a perpetrator x victim ship, a 'dark' ship, etc. Keep that in mind as a general warning. I am personally rather confident in my ability to treat it carefully as a Chinese person and someone with a fairly solid background in early modern Chinese history, and I personally am rather laissez-faire with shipping, but YMMV

I think the main appeal to me really is the history. Like, it's my OTP that got me back into Hetalia like 2 years ago (and I met my darling gf thru it) so of course I love the ship as is and I love AUs, but the history hits all the points of tension and power imbalance and 'divorce' and crushed dreams that I love so much. I love both characters separately as well and I love how explosively they come together and fall apart. I think their personalities could fit surprisingly well in another world, another life, where they could have a quiet moment over tea and Wang Yao would appreciate Arthur's quiet grace and Arthur Wang Yao's pragmatism and beauty, but now and for the foreseeable future their interactions will always be tainted with smoke and pain and wars that Arthur doesn't even truly remember.

I do also love AUs btw I really do think they'd suit each other in another world, another time, without all the history hanging over them.

Rundown of relationship through the lens of chronological history: Fair warning, it's 1.5k words

Ok. Okokokok. So. Let's start from the beginning. I want to post this before bed so no references. Sorry if I get any history details wrong, it's been a second and this is all off the top of my head.

WARNINGS: abuse, drug use, nonconsent/assault, imperialism, the works. This is not a happy pair nor do they get a happy ending.

So initially, I imagine their first meeting to be the classic Macacartney Embassy of 1793, it's the classic (if rather orientalist) trope, Arthur marching in with the retinue after a year of exhausting travel, having finally reached the celestial kingdom, and Wang Yao there to greet him in resplendent deep blue robes. China was known in Europe through a variety of lenses, from the fascination with the exotic - Marco Polo's adventure to 'Cathay', Chinoiserie which had reached a fever pitch in the 1700s when China was both close and unknown - to the respect of philosophers for the faraway empire's imagined orderly way of rule. Arthur and his crew have been mistreated and pushed aside by official after official, but here they are now, and Arthur catches a glimpse of silky dark hair and frosty amber eyes and easy, effortless power and he's infatuated.

Wang Yao is, for his part, equally fascinated. Qianlong is wary despite his own fascination with European technology, Manchuria - will call him Erdeni - is even more wary, but Wang Yao's been screwing around the palace for a long time without much real political power outside the symbolic, and Arthur is a lovely surprise, finally he has a glimpse of those British who've been causing so much trouble in Canton! Arthur is a little rough around the edges, but certainly more refined than Wang Yao was expecting. His face lights up when he gets a moment with Wang Yao, he kisses Wang Yao's hand and tells him it's custom, Wang Yao allows it all with a sort of giddy amusement.

Their first meeting is like that, mutual fascination. Now, the British were already running something of a deficit and selling opium, however they were not the only ones at this point - the Dutch were the ones to introduce opium mixed with tobacco as recreational iirc, so although the dynasty had something of a problem they were trying and failing to deal with, it wasn't blamed on the British at this point. Qianlong is suspicious and a little tired, he knows he British have gunships (Macartney made sure to sail up on a big one) and he has to deal with stirrings of rebellion on top of Macartney's demands for more trade and land, Erdeni is horribly stressed, and Wang Yao is... kinda dreamy ngl! Likewise, Macartney leaves in an angry huff, but Arthur is just a little lovesick.

Now let's watch it fall apart! This part of the story is fairly straight forward, many issues happen in Canton including another failed embassy, the British East India Company losing their monopoly on Canton trade opening the shores up to private businesses both British and American, opium sales shoot up, rebellions shake the Qing, not helped by an aging Qianlong and a severely corrupt government willing to lie to his face, Arthur and Wang Yao are quite busy with their own affairs and only give each other a passing thought. Maybe there are letters, though, every once in a while, playful at the beginning but increasingly snippy as relations, what little there were, worsen. Their views of each other, developed within their own countries and politics, would likewise worsen.

By the time Arthur was invited to a debate in the British House of Commons discussing whether or not to declare war against China for all the chests of British opium dumped by Commissioner Lin into the sea, his view of Wang Yao was decidedly negative. Irritating, arrogant, backward, childish, and wholly unable to show any respect to his own, much less 'barbarians'. That pretty face is wasted, he thinks viciously, on a child tyrant in arrested development since before Rome, in desperate need of correction. On Wang Yao's part, he's starting to feel a bit of the rot, both the opium epidemic in its early stages and the rebellions that shook the latter part of Qianlong's reign leading to long decades of violence and famine, by the time the Daoguang emperor attempts ever more desperately to crack down on opium in the 1820s, both Wang Yao and Erdeni are nearly bedridden. In his periods of lucidity, Wang Yao curses his past self who giggled and allowed Arthur to kiss his hand.

So, then the wars start. Suffice to say, alongside war comes forced opium legalization, the taking of colonies (little Ka Lung, who's never known his older brother not surrounded by smoke and sickness, later on Weiwei, abandoned little coastal town left forgotten, Shanghai, Tianjin, etc) Arthur visits more, now.

Of course he does. Wang Yao can't say no.

He doesn't visit particularly often, however, despite personal interest, China has always been on the margins of British empire - only the China hands Truly cared about it, the central government did not. Arthur visits to oversee colonial development, visits imperial institutions the British had set up like the Imperial Maritimes Custom Service that control China's coast and later on postal system, etc. He drops by Wang Yao's place too, visits the bedridden fallen star living deep within the walls of a rotting imperial stronghold, does as he pleases because Wang Yao is barely awake enough to recognize him, anyways.

I won't go too deep into these few decades, just know they are excessively bleak. Rebellions come and go, Taiping and British involvement, Boxer rebellion sees Arthur marching in with a veritable army, Alfred, Ivan, Kiku, Ludwig, several others, Kiku jumps in headfirst and shakes hands with Arthur over Wang Yao's half-dead form, Arthur takes and takes and takes and when he's not taking he barely remembers Wang Yao is alive.

But Wang Yao... is alive. Alive, and responding to every desperate attempt by the emperor to reform and grow. Weihaiwei is a result of that, a coast where the Qing's first modern fleet were supposed to be docked, a child who was not a replacement for Ka Lung, but still an opportunity for Wang Yao to be better. Of course Weiwei gets taken away by Arthur in the end, but Wang Yao is far from finished.

I've let time get away from me, so lets quickly fast forward past the fall of the Qing and birth of the new republic, past ww1, when China sends workers to aid Britain and France, past May 4th 1919, all the way to 1922.

Wang Yao is a man reborn, Arthur is a man beaten down by an empire slipping away from him and a war that devastated his people and country on a never before seen scale. British imperialism in China has never been stronger, taking great economic concessions only to be bombarded with the ever-growing nationalism and anti-imperialism of the new Republic and then sending in the military to quell that. Arthur shows up periodically at this point, rolling his eyes at Wang Yao's arrogance and mourning the easy submission of the late 1800s - I've done Yao a disservice by allowing him to get these ridiculous thoughts of republic when he barely knows how to reason, he thinks, leaning pretty far right in his thinking due to all those personal emotions tangled in that he won't put a name to. Wang Yao though, Wang Yao only cares that he's above all that now, that Erdeni's dead by his own hand, that he's now Arthur's equal and WILL be treated as such. Wang Yao's also currently a little more preoccupied with, well, the constantly ramping up invasion on his shores, courtesy of Kiku.

Talking about that invasion, he certainly hasn't forgotten that Arthur had shaken hands with Kiku over his body and soul, splitting him up like a piece of meat. Arthur's relationship with Kiku has been deteriorating in the meanwhile, until, oh, Europe seems to be in some kind of war, and China's also at war with an ally of some of those Europeans, might as well formally declare an alliance!

1941. China is still riddled with colonies, colonial institutions, and concessions that would not start being returned until 1943-1999. The Republic of China joins the US, USSR, and Great Britain as the Four Powers. Wang Yao faces Arthur over tea and cookies, still bearing bruises from their last meeting (countries heal slowly when embroiled in civil war and invasion and chaos) and steels himself to talk strategy.

Nowadays? Arthur wouldn't be able to recall much about it all, Wang Yao rendered as just another pretty face in a long line of victims. Wang Yao still gets nightmares of opium haze and burning pain and Arthur's cheerful voice scolding him for taking on more than he can chew, and hides it behind a mask of nationalist fervour, lets it colour his vision so he will always remember what it feels like to be weak.

[swift-creates]

category: Gen

fandom: Star Wars

characters and relationships: Cassian Andor and Strike (OC) - platonic, Cassian Andor x Jyn Erso - romantic, Kix, Alex is mentioned multiple times but never shown (as is Kerri)

warnings: Extreme cold, hypothermia, medbay setting (after the divider break), awkward love confessions, teasing about said confession, Strike is a little shit

Summary:

@ailesswhumptober Day 17: Hypothermia / Heat Stroke / “You look a little pale” Day 18: Fever / Vomiting / Warm Soup

Stranded on an ice planet after a Rebel mission gone wrong, Cassian and Strike try to send out one last transmission to the people they love.

notes: divider by @djarrex (see more here). used the warm soup prompt quite literally and. for the comfort part of the hurt/comfort. but it's still p angsty with context. this is set in my Rebel AU (aka continuity i created solely to make my TCW blorbos friends with my Empire-era blorbos) and comes chronologically after Jai'galaar (unposted fic where she meets Alex) Yes this fic is an excuse to write Rebelcaptain.

context is basically Cassian and Strike were sent on a mission in the Rebel AU, and were stranded on an ice planet, unable to get offplanet or send any transmissions to anyone. Strike had a big fight with Jesse before they left and said some pretty extreme things and regrets it. also, Cassian is friends with the Ghost Crew bc i said so.

more things about Strike on AO3

“A cave,” he told her through chattering teeth. They stumbled into its gaping mouth, brushing the snow from their shoulders with shaking hands, and huddled at its back, trying to preserve whatever warmth hadn’t been stolen from them by the storm.

Strike curled into herself as much as she could, snuggled up tight to Cassian’s side. He stared at a frosted rock across from them, as if he could summon warmth and help if he looked at it hard enough, only breaking his vacant gaze when she nudged him. 

“Whatcha thinking?” she whispered.

He sighed, the silence settling back down after that for a moment, like ripples smoothing on the surface of a pond, before replying. “About what I never got to tell Jyn. About how much I… love her.” Strike put a hand over his, and he attempted a smile. “I guess now I’ll never get to.”

She looked away, closing her eyes briefly. “I should never have asked you along on this mission.”

“Hey, I’m the idiot who said yes. This isn’t your fault.”

“I think it is.” 

He put his arms around her, leaning his head onto her shoulder. “Well, I think it isn’t. Checkmate.” She let out a short huff of a laugh at that, her breath misting white in the shadows wrapped around them as they both contemplated their circumstances, weighing the options and both reaching the same conclusion. 

“Well, we’re probably gonna die here, so. Any last confessions? Rants you need an ear lent to?”

Strike went quiet for a moment, then spoke in a hushed voice. “I don’t want my fight with Jesse to be the last words we ever said to each other. And I would’ve liked to see Alex again, before.” The unsaid finality of their situation hung in the air, a vulture circling both their minds before she added, “And tell him to feed Badu.” 

Cassian snorted. “I don’t think anyone could forget. He wouldn’t let them.”

“Yeah.” She twisted to look at him. “You?”

He smiled wistfully, turning the holoprojector over in his hand. “I know I can’t. That any transmissions we send won’t make it through the storm. But I would’ve liked to tell her. I still do.” Strike thought of Jyn, waiting for a call that would never come, and buried her face in his jacket. 

“I’m sorry.” She said it again, even though she knew he’d say she didn’t have to. She just needed him to know she was. 

“Y’know,” he said after a pause, “kriff it.” He flicked on the holoprojector, and the small red light indicated that it was recording. 

“I know this might never get transmitted, and if it does, it’ll get to you until after we’re both frozen, but I don’t think we have the luxury of caring anymore. This message is the last from Rebel agents Cassian Andor and Strike Kamino.” She stared at him as he spoke, his expression now holding a resigned determination, then turned to face the projector when he looked at her. 

“First of all, someone make sure Light takes his meds. And feed Badu in the afternoon, or he’ll scream at you to do it in the middle of the night.” Cassian chuckled then, probably remembering the few disturbed nights when that had happened. “Alex. I love you so much it feels like I need you to breathe. I’m sorry I couldn’t come back this time.” She took a breath to compose herself, the memory of the stinging words she’d thrown at her brother flashing to the forefront of her mind.

“Jesse, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any of what I said, and if I could take it back, I would. You didn’t deserve that.” She sniffled, wiped at her face with one hand. “Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum, vod. Take care of yourself, and don’t let Kix get vasovagal syncope-d again, whatever that is.” She leaned back out of the camera’s range, let the blue light cascade across Cassian’s face uninterrupted.

“Kerri, you be good and do whatever Hera says. No staying up past bedtimes, no drugs and murder, and no boys unless I would have liked them. But I do have high standards when it comes to boys,” he admitted. “Help Zeb around the base, would you? Poor man’s stressed enough as it is.” He went quiet then, gaze falling from the holoprojector to the gray rock floor. 

“Jyn… I’m in love with you. I think I have been ever since Jedha. I just… didn’t know it. And when I did realise it, I- I didn’t know how to tell you.” He let out a soft laugh. “And this probably won’t even reach you, but I love you. 

“I just wish you could have told me if you felt the same.”

He stopped the recording, tucked the projector away into his pocket and let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. Wiped away the tear he hadn’t known was trickling down his cheek.

“That was just Jyn’s style,” Strike said after a short pause. “She would’ve loved it.”

He gave her a small smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” They huddled up again, pulling their jackets tighter around themselves and waiting for the inevitable. 

Neither of them were sure who gave in to unconsciousness first, but the storm raged on outside as they both fell still.

Cassian knew he was awake, but he was warm for the first time in days, and he kept his eyes closed, content to just stay still and comfortable right there. But a while later, muffled voices intruded on his cosy darkness, and he squeezed his eyes shut harder, to no avail. A feeling like hands prodding at him poked into his shoulder, and he wondered wearily if this was what it felt like to become one with the Force. It was more irritating than the Jedi made it sound. 

“Cassian.” The call of his name broke through the blur, and wasn’t that strange, it sounded almost like Kix. That was worth investigating, and he blinked his eyes open to a haze of bright white. 

“Cassian.” His vision focused on the face hovering in front of him.

“Kix?” That was weird. “What happened?” 

“We found the two of you in a cave half frozen to death, is what happened. And we got your holo message, too. None of us were too happy about that. Jesse almost had an aneurysm, and Jyn wasn’t much better.” Two. Two of us, in a cave…

“Strike. Where is she? Is she…” He let his voice trail off, almost afraid to finish his sentence.

“She’s fine.” Kix’s expression softened. “We got to you two in time to stave off the worst of the damage.” Cassian slumped in relief. Okay. That’s good.

“I think you both are going to need to talk to your message recipients when you’re well enough for it,” the medic went on. “They were almost inconsolable, watching that and waiting for you to come home.” 

The message. Cassian recalled the holoprojector, the recording, what he’d said in it. I talked to Kerri, told her to be good. He vaguely remembered saying something about Zeb. And after that… 

Oh, sithspit.

He’d told everyone exactly how he’d felt about Jyn. 

“Morning, sunshine.” He looked over to see a sleepy-looking Strike under a thick bundle of blankets he imagined Hardcase hauling to the medbay to throw on top of her. “Disappointed we’re not dead?”

“I might have just doomed myself to a fate worse than death,” he replied, burying his face in his hands. 

Strike seemed to search her memory a little before remembering, and raised her eyebrows at him when she did. “Oh, kriff. Yeah, I agree. I’m so glad I’m not you right now.”

Cassian groaned loudly in frustration. “Thank you, you’re being so helpful,” he deadpanned.

“You’re welcome.” Strike leaned back in her bed for a moment before shooting up again. “I have to go find Alex!”

“Kix will skin you alive if he finds out you’ve escaped.”

“This ain’t a prison, it’s a medbay. He’ll probably throw me to a nexu, but. Worth it.” She climbed out from under the blankets and swayed on her feet for a moment before regaining her balance, pulling on her boots and darting out of the room. “See ya later, Cass. Have fun!” He stuck his tongue out at her, but she didn’t turn around to see it.

He sat there for another few minutes, contemplating how to get out of this situation he’d put himself in, before the doors whooshed open a few minutes later. He expected one of the medics, or Kix hauling Strike back in by the scruff of her neck.

It was Jyn. 

She stepped over the threshold of the door, and walked up to his bed wordlessly. Sat down in the empty chair beside him. And looked at him, fathoms of emotion hidden behind her hazel eyes. They were beautiful, green with a center of golden brown, and held so much he couldn’t read, wouldn’t read even if he could. He wanted her to choose to tell him, sit down and let him know what went on behind those eyes and why. He wanted to do the same for her. 

“I watched your message. We all did,” she said, and he cringed internally at the memory. 

“Wasn’t one of my finest moments,” he admitted. 

She looked down at her hands, fiddled with a round object that he realised was the holoprojector they’d used to send the recording. “You said you didn’t know how to tell me how you felt. And then you said you wished I could tell you if I felt the same way.” She took in a deep breath, and with a sinking feeling, he braced himself for her rejection.

“Well, I’m telling you now. I love you, you idiot who thought it would be a good idea to confess to me in a holomessage that might have never reached this base.” He looked sharply up to see her shrug with a small smile. “I just never had the guts or the chance to say it out loud.” Cassian stared at her, speechless, as a warm feeling of surprised hope started to glow in his chest, and smiled back. 

Jyn looked down, flipped the projector once, twice, looked back up to him with something almost shy in her eyes. He’d known Jyn Erso for a while now, and seldom saw her look shy. “Do you wanna…”

He took in a breath, feeling his stomach buzz in anticipation of the kiss she was asking for. “Kriff yes.” He sat up straighter in his bed, tentatively put a hand over hers. Holding her breath, she let him, then started to lean in-

“And if I find you sneaking out again, Rex is not going to be able to stop me from tying you up with your own whipcord,” Kix grumbled, dragging a smug-looking Strike back into the medbay. Cassian and Jyn both jumped at his sudden entrance, settling back into their seats and rapidly trying to calm down. 

“I told Cassian that this was a medbay, not a prison, but I guess I was wrong.” Despite her complaints, Strike gave her brother a satisfied grin, and Cassian groaned internally. I know that smile.

“Manita, what did you do?”

“I walked in on some lovey-dovey heart eyes nonsense between this di’kut and her cyare, declaring their undying devotion to one another or whatever.” Kix made a face at the memory, bundling Strike back into her bed. 

“You wouldn’t have had to see it if you hadn’t come looking for me,” Strike pointed out, crossing her arms as he rearranged the blankets. “Oh, hey, Jyn.” 

“H-Hi.” Cassian winced at the way her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. “I was just… checking in on Cassian.”

Kix looked at Jyn. Jyn looked at Strike. Strike looked at Kix. Kix turned to look back at Strike and raised one eyebrow ever so slightly Cassian might have missed it if he wasn’t so mortified at the whole exchange. 

Strike shrugged. “Well, he isn’t going anywhere.”

“Vod.” Kix nudged her.

“What? It’s true.” “Only because he’s a better patient than you are,” Kix groused, moving from her bedside to retrieve a tray of steaming bowls. “Here. Cookbook thought you two would need this.” He handed Cassian and Strike each a bowl, then hovered by a mug with the third. “Jyn? Soup?” 

“Oh, I don’t need- I was going to go soon-” Jyn started, but Strike cut her off.

“I think Cass here would really like it if you stayed for soup.” She made eye contact with Cassian, who withered a little bit at the barely restrained glee in her eyes.

Jyn looked at him, as if checking if he actually agreed, and he wanted to bury into his blanket and hide. Instead, he nodded — he did want her to stay, even if he would never say that out loud, and definitely not in front of Strike and Kix. “The soup’s good.” 

“Well, I’ve never turned down good soup.” She seemed to have regained her usual composure, and gave Kix a smile as he poured some into the mug. Cassian watched as she accepted it from the medic, the steam swirling up to frame her face as she took a careful sip. It rose in graceful curls and designs he wanted to trace into her skin, to hold her hand and gently smooth over with his thumb. 

He realised he was staring, blinked and shook the notion away. That was weird. Don’t do that. Even as he had the thought, he noticed her smiling over the rim of her mug and felt his face heat. 

“So, what is in this soup?” Strike asked loudly, and Kix shook his head knowingly. Cassian wanted to throw pillows at both of them. But then Jyn laughed, her brown hair cascading behind her with the force of her happiness, and he felt the violent urge recede. 

(But that didn’t mean pillows wouldn’t be flying once she left the medbay.)

[togenabi]

throwing pebbles because I love you

megumi fushiguro x reader (royalty au)

♡—Whenever the night is clear, and the wind blows softly, Megumi throws rocks at your window.

word count♡— 2.3k words

genre♡— fluff, royalty au

aged up characters♡— 18+

content notes♡— childhood frenemies to lovers, megumi throws rocks, no use of y/n, mc is a bit of a snob, very fluff, secret codes, confessions, not really proofread, megumi is ooc I'm sorry TvT

author's note♡— I really didn't mean to make my second royalty au to also be related to windows, but here we are. (⁠◡⁠ ⁠ω⁠ ⁠◡⁠) no windows were harmed in the making of this fic.

The first time it happened, it was an accident. You were both eight.

Their royal highnesses, prince Megumi and prince Yuji, were staying over at your family's estate as guests. Your mother was a royal through and through, having descended from the greater empire then married into a neighboring kingdom's duchy. After your father passed, she never remarried; choosing instead to focus on serving the kingdom as the perfect duchess.

She never forced you to take on too many responsibilities, despite her own workaholic tendencies. Your mother had simply let you be a child. Eventually, you learned to be extremely grateful she let you grow into your own person.

For now though, you were eight. And some kid just threw a pebble at your very pretty window.

You throw it back at him.

“Ow!” The kid cries as he rubs his forehead, on which a mark has begun to redden. “Hey! Mine was an accident!”

“You still did it!” You say, pointing at the dent he caused while looking down at him from the windowsill. “My response was your consequence.”

The both of you glower at each other until you realize how far he is. “What were you doing throwing rocks at my manor anyway?”

The kid suddenly looks sheepish as his eyes turn to anywhere but you. “My friend needed rocks for some game he made up, and he bet he could catch all of them.” You notice he starts glaring ahead of him at the ground level, so you lean down—out of the window, to follow his gaze. Your eyes catch a head of pink hair before it runs away.

Realizing these two were the royal guests everyone was fussing about, you scoff. “That's hardly very princely of the two of you.”

He bristles. “Is that how you act towards the prince of the kingdom you serve?!”

“I'll greet you properly when our interaction doesn't begin with a pebble being thrown.” You say as you begin closing the window, throwing on a smile just to mess with him more. “Have a pleasant evening.”

You got terribly sick not long after that, and you never saw him for the rest of that summer. The duchess had forbidden visitors unless absolutely necessary so that you could recover quickly.

Prince Megumi fades into your memory, turning into one that you recall only when you spot that dent on your window frame.

You never made the effort to have it repaired, for some reason.

❀ ♡ ❀ ♡ ❀

You're fifteen, hiding in your room as a ball rages downstairs. Your maids would be distraught if they caught you, donning your best clothes, yet curled up on the couch with a book. No matter, this was the perfect way to spend an evening, in your opinion.

When a pebble glides through your window and lands on the floor nearby, you look at it incredulously.

‘This feels strangely familiar...’ But you decide to ignore it, your position on the couch is much too comfortable to leave. You resume reading.

But another rock comes in. Then another.

“Tsk!” Snapping your book shut, you spring up and finally look outside the window. Your eyes meet a certain familiar prince, holding even more rocks in his hands.

You frown at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “This time's deliberate, then?”

“I'm sorry but I need to hide! Please help me—could I come up?” His voice is urgent, and it's only then that you notice the state of his clothes. They were filthy, and part of his coat sleeve blooms red.

Without thinking further, you push a mechanism hidden beneath a flower pot by your window. A rope ladder immediately falls to the ground outside. Megumi is stunned for a moment before reaching for it, and you wonder if he had planned to climb the vines painfully when he asked to come up.

You assist by pulling him once he's within arm's reach, and he collapses into your room with a loud groan. You slam your hand on the mechanism again, and the rope reels back into place.

He looks exhausted, but you have to make him get up. You're not sure how you would move him to the couch if he fainted.

“Stand up for me, please.” You plead with him. “At least to the couch.”

Megumi's breaths are labored as he glances towards the couch. He closes his eyes and groans louder as he gets up and walks slowly, leaning on you the whole time.

He's out like a light once he lies down. Your first instinct is to go get help, but it hits you that you have no idea who Megumi was running from. It dawns on you that if he could ask help from a professional, especially one nearer the palace, he would have. It could be dangerous for anyone else to know he's here.

You purse your lips as you think, and reach for a medical journal on your shelf. You must do your best to tend to his wounds on your own while he rests.

Megumi looks so peaceful as he sleeps. He looks the most relaxed you've ever seen him, and you're thankful he's at least comfortable. While his wounds weren't that deep, he was probably running for a while, which had exhausted and strained him further.

You're cleaning up the medical supplies you used when Megumi regains consciousness for a moment.

“...Thank you.” Megumi's eyes reflect how truly grateful he is. He croaks out the words despite the toll on him. He even grasps your hand dearly.

You clear your throat and look away, but your ears clearly turn red. “If you ever need my help again, just throw a rock. I'll be here.”

That brings a sleepy smile to Megumi's face. “What happened to ignoring me if the encounter starts with a pebble being thrown?”

It takes you a moment to respond. You're not sure what surprises you more, that he remembers your exact words all those years ago, or that he has the gall to crack jokes in his condition.

You stutter out a response lamely to cover up how flustered you are, “I—there can be exceptions, even if it's for you.”

Megumi laughs quietly, and lets out a soft sigh before falling asleep.

You drape a blanket over him as he rests, pausing only to brush his hair away from his eyes.

You don't notice, but the gesture makes Megumi's breathing still for a moment.

❀ ♡ ❀ ♡ ❀

When you're eighteen, your window is severely banged up with dents and scratches. The glass had already broken on more than one occasion, and while of course you had that replaced, the frame stays strong from all the rocks it's been hit with throughout all these years. And, on the day it finally breaks and shatters into spikes, you think you'll make a picture frame out of it.

‘Megumi and I don't have a single nice portrait together, though.’ The thought makes you laugh softly. Both of you weren't exactly exemplary at the frivolous details that come with being nobles, you often helped each other out to skip balls and escape from dreadful hours posing for portraits. But neither of you ever minded.

You bought the most wonderful chair when you were sixteen, you simply melt into it while reading. The best part of it, however, was that you could put it by your window; with the ladder mechanism easy to reach nearby.

Megumi visits less often these days, though. His responsibilities are becoming far too great to leave the palace for too long. He even leaves for other nations and kingdoms sometimes.

But you keep waiting, and he always comes back to you.

A rock clatters into your room and you smile absentmindedly at the sound. You continue reading as your hand moves to trigger the ladder down.

Megumi enters through the window. You'd look at him, but the novel you're reading has suddenly taken an interesting turn, and you're absolutely absorbed into it.

If you had looked up, you would have seen the softest of smiles on Megumi's face.

He approaches and kisses your forehead. By the time you process what happened, he's already walking away as if that was the most normal thing to do. You blink at him in surprise. Megumi only sits on your desk, as he's done so many times before, and begins to do some paperwork he's brought with him.

“What was that?” You ask, still stunned.

“What was what?” Sounds of paper shuffles as he sifts through documents.

“That kiss.”

He pauses.

Your heart seems to rattle in your chest. Were you too blunt? Was it really a normal thing that people like both of you did? Both of you? What were both of you? Does he—

Your thoughts come to an abrupt halt when Megumi smiles, and you finally see that soft and caring smile he saves only for you.

His next words, however, make you throw a pillow at him.

“I'll give you another one later if you liked it that much.”

❀ ♡ ❀ ♡ ❀

It's late into the evening after Megumi has left. You don't speak of the kiss again, and he doesn't either. Though you already had an inkling of your feelings for Megumi, you've never spoken of or acted upon it.

But tonight suddenly made you question if you should start to.

As you retrieve it, your fingers trace a rough texture on the rock Megumi threw earlier. Turning it over, you read something that seems to be etched into it.

‘TWK—p.402, q.1'

Is it some sort of code? What could this be? Surely Megumi was the one to carve this, but how do you decipher it? You stare at the rock and return to your chair. Before you sit down, however, your eyes catch the cover of the book you were reading...

The Wicked King.

The puzzle pieces click into place. A title, a page number, and a quote! Your fingers flutter to get to page 402, not caring that you haven't actually reached that part of the book yet...

The first line makes you gasp and your heart stutter.

“You are my daylight.”

As you trace the line delicately, you wonder if he's always been doing this. But you would have definitely noticed if he was. The jagged texture of the letters are obvious no matter what way you hold the rock. The others before were always perfectly intact.

Your heart skips a beat again. ‘Then... Does this mean that this is the first, and that he'll leave another code next time?’

❀ ♡ ❀ ♡ ❀

A month passes, and Megumi has visited you exactly three times since the first rock with a clue.

Though he's visiting less, you're certainly thinking of him more. The messages you decoded all engraved into your mind at this point, with how many times you've read them.

“You are my daylight.”

“May your day be filled with happiness and warmth, as much as you have given to me.”

“My mind has not forgotten how you smiled at me so.”

“Thank you, for being my home.”

You never let on that you cracked the ciphers, however. He hasn't ever mentioned their existence either, but you suspect he knows that you're aware. Especially since he's been acting so much more dearly during his visits.

After writing all the messages down on a sheet of paper, you realize you should give Megumi a reply. But, how should you do it?

Your eyes find the four small rocks on your desk...

Ah, of course! Of course that's the most perfect way!

Your mind whirls with excitement as you rush outside to find a rock. Once you find one, you realize Megumi is the only person you would do this for...

Because you love him.

And that's it, you've decided. That's what you'll tell him, no code needed.

You love prince Megumi.

❀ ♡ ❀ ♡ ❀

‘Is this how he felt, all those times before?’ His window seems so far and almost out of reach. ‘Was he ever this nervous? Nervous that I wouldn't respond?’

You tighten your grip on the pebble. Megumi never had to worry about that. You'd always respond to him no matter what.

And yet, you're nervous as hell, and shaking like a leaf. If you weren't so anxious, you would have laughed at how baffled the palace staff were when you arrived but didn't enter the palace at all.

The head butler looked so confused when you asked to be led to Megumi's window, but you assured him your intentions meant well.

The pebble suddenly feels heavy in your palm, but you hold yourself firm. You blow a kiss on it softly, before beginning to aim.

The pebble flies from your hand. It was a perfect throw that collides with his window loudly before rattling along his balcony floor.

Megumi peeks out carefully, but then brightens up the moment he sees you. He laughs as he waves at you. “It feels so strange to be on the receiving end of the rock.”

You smile shyly up at him. “But, you haven't just been giving me rocks recently, haven't you?”

He suddenly looks nervous, and starts to search your face for any sign of rejection. When he finds none, he looks cautiously optimistic.

“Pick up that rock now, would you?” You say, acting impatient, but your heart is beating eagerly to see his reaction.

He turns this way and that looking for it, and you stop breathing when he finally finds and reaches for it. Once he reads it, he looks at you with a dazed expression. The rock falls from his hold as he quickly jumps over the balcony edge, and lands safely in front of you.

You're about to nag that he nearly gave you a heart attack when he slowly gets on one knee. Your words die in your throat.

Megumi laughs at how stunned you look. “I'd throw this rock at your window, but my family might actually kill me.”

His smile widens as he jokes, “I don't suppose I need to write a code to express what this one means...” He opens a small box to reveal a stunning ring that suits you perfectly.

“Will you marry me?”

© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added to my taglist ♡

[karalovesallthegirls]

Circus AU + Bodyguard AU: Supercorp, if you please

I read this and knew instantly I had to add a story to the MCU (mimecorp universe).

---

Lena was born to be an aerialist. That’s not hyperbole – her birth mother was a brilliant acrobat. Lena did not know much about her, but she knew that. She knew she was poor and talented and desperate, and that when the illustrious Ringmasters of the Luthor dynasty offered her weight in gold for the baby she carried the woman jumped at the chance. 

She got a handsome payment to live off of for years, and they got Lena.

From the moment she could grip silk she was trained in the aerialist arts. Her childhood consisted of unbearably hot spotlights and grueling routines, hours and hours on end pushing her body to its limits. It was all she knew. 

She was raised alongside the Luthor’s son Lex, who took a cruel liking to her. He dragged her around with him wherever he pleased. He took a perverse pleasure in showing her off to all the other performers as his “little sister”, though he treated her more like a pet. It was all a funny game to him, this little girl they bought for their entertainment. They even gave her their last name.

Even still, she was not their family. There was no love for Lena in the Luthor household, and she was made to sleep on the floorboards of their mansions as they traveled from show to show. But she wasn’t in the tents like the rest of the performers, and as far as they knew she was sleeping on silks like royalty.

The Luthors mocked and neglected her. The circus resented her for her supposed status. She was, at all times, utterly alone. She lived like that for years, well into her young adulthood.

And then Lex burned the big tent down.

He was drunk and reckless, and one of the acrobats he’d had an eye on rejected his advances and he’d become so enraged that he’d torn the backroom apart, screaming and throwing and tearing in such a fury that he didn’t even notice the candle he’d knocked into the cloth siding until the entire room was ablaze.

Three performers died that night, a dozen were injured. Lex was arrested and set for trial, and the Luthor empire crumbled. The circus dissolved.

Lena remembers running into the house and grabbing onto Lillian, the closest thing to a mother she’d ever known, and asking her what they should do. In disgust Lillian shook off her grip. “I’m going up north to support my son. What you do is your prerogative.”

“Mother-” Lena said, and Lillian snapped back. “I am not your mother, and you are not a child. There is no more circus so there is no more reason to keep you around. Figure your own life out.” And with that, the only life Lena had ever known was gone.

She floats aimlessly for a while, working odd jobs and trying to build something for herself. She’s bad at most things. Clumsy and slow. Her entire life was driven by a single, solitary purpose of performance. Working in anything else feels unnatural and difficult.

Eventually, a circus comes to the town she’s been trying and failing to build a life in. It’s a small one, nowhere near the glamor and prestige Luthor Circus once had, but the second Lena sees Those show lights she feels a yearning she can’t shake. That is, for all its faults, the only life she’s ever known.

She approaches the ringmaster, a surly man named J’onn with an unreadable face, and begs for an audition. He watches her performance, sees the way she twists and contorts in the air with ease, and tells her no. 

It’s too expensive, he says, and their equipment isn’t up to par to her skill level. He doesn’t need an old loose rope to snap and send her hurdling to her demise. He doesn’t need her to spend a few weeks with them only to grow bored and seek better opportunities. She’s too qualified for a place like theirs.

“Please,” she says, with a desperation that fills the room like a noxious fume. “I have nowhere to go.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, and he almost sounds sincere. “I’ll walk you out, Miss…”

“Luthor,” she says. “Lena Luthor.”

She can see it register in his eyes then. 

He hires her.

It feels like slipping into a well-worn pair of shoes, being in the circus. The lights, the sounds, the obvious disdain of everyone around her – it all feels like home.

Word spreads fast that she’s a Luthor, and before she even meets them the entire acrobat crew actively despises her. They stop talking when she walks into rooms, they leave when she sits down at a table to eat. They make it clear she can sleep somewhere other than their tents. The first night she wakes up to find her clothes soaked with some foul-smelling liquid and her mud smeared in her hair. She opts to sleep outside the night after that.

Thankfully, they’re in a dry place for a while, and there’s a strange sort of peace in laying on her cot under so many stars. She sleeps through most of the night peacefully but wakes up shivering sometime before dawn, her blankets mysteriously gone. At some point, someone stole them. Of course.

She tries to lay for a few more futile minutes before it becomes unbearable, and she has no choice but to get up and find warmth. She follows the smoky smell and crackling sounds until she finds the main campfire and, much to her misfortune, a stranger sitting beside it.

They don’t see her immediately, eyes aimed distantly at the flames, and Lena deliberates on just going back to her cot. The frosted dew behind her feels unthinkable against that intoxicating warmth, and despite the consequences Lena quietly sits by the fire a ways from the stranger staring ahead.

It's surprising how long it takes the stranger to notice her, but when they do, she’s met with a warm smile and a laugh.

“Oh jeez, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize anyone else was here. I must have looked quite odd just sitting here.” Lena is quiet. She’s not sure if they know who she is at this point, and anything she can do to prolong her access to the fire she’ll do. “Is it okay if I sit here a while?” she finally asks, and the stranger smiles. It’s a kind smile. She’s not used to those. “Of course,” the stranger says, and goes back to that strange fire stare. They sit in silence for a long time. Lena finds herself relaxing into the steady warmth. Despite herself, she nods off. She wakes up some time later to scuffling and shouting above her (when had she laid down?) and she opens her eyes to see the stranger punching someone in the face. 

“Get away from her!” the stranger shouts, standing between her and the dazed man sprawled on the ground. She recognizes him from earlier – he’d dumped a drink on her book she’d been reading after dinner. 

“Why are you protecting her?” the man screams back, clutching his now heavily bleeding nose. “She’s a fucking Luthor!”

Lena’s heart stops at hearing that, and she scoots away from the conflict until her back hits the log she’d been sitting on just a few hours before. She wonders if the stranger will turn and punch her like that. Instead, the stranger seems even angrier with the man. “I don’t care if she’s Satan’s sister, you’re not gonna touch her.”

Lena can’t see whatever expression they have, but she can see the man’s reaction to it. He looks almost frightened.  “Whatever,” he says, dusting himself off. “It’s your fucking funeral, Kara.”

And with that he stumbles away, ego and face aching, and the stranger – Kara, apparently – turns to smile at her. “I’m sorry I woke you,” Kara says, absolutely baffling her. “If you’d like to go back to sleep I’ll stand watch.”

Some feeling prickles inside of her, radiating from her chest down to her lap. She doesn’t know what it is, but it terrifies her. She wants to feel it forever.

“I’m… I’m fine. You didn’t have to do that.” “Of course I did! I’m not going to let some knucklehead mess with you when you’re asleep.”

“Do you not know who I am?” she’s almost desperate as she asks. She doesn’t understand. Kara shrugs. “Lena Luthor. I heard. Still not gonna let anyone mess with you.”

How the hell does she respond to something like that? A voice in the distance calls out Kara’s name then, cutting off her anxious spiral, and Kara smiles at her. “I have to go to practice, but my tent is the blue one just over there. I’m the lead so I have it to myself, so. You can stay there with me, if you'd like.” Her face must look some kind of way because Kara is quick to add, “I can sleep on the floor, or outside by the fire. I’m not- I don’t want to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable.”

Every part of her mind tells her it’s a trap, it’s a setup, there’s a shoe waiting to fall hard on her head. That unfamiliar feeling tingles even harder. The feeling wins. “Okay,” she whispers, and is rewarded with another bright smile from Kara. “You said you’re the lead. Are you an acrobat?” For the first time since meeting, Kara looks uncomfortable, face going bright red all at once. It’s sweet, and that feeling hits Lena again somewhere low and terrifying.  “No not so much, I’m actually, uh,” a cough, and finally, “I’m the lead clown.”

For the first time, Lena really notices Kara’s face. Notices the faint remnants of paint, the slight white hue left behind after washing. She notices how bright Kara’s clothes actually are. She’s a fucking clown. “Oh,” Lena says, and the feeling intensifies.

[lubdubsworld]

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 . 

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Promt:

JNon-power AU - Note: Top!Wade x Bottom!Peter

Writing prompt: I'm thinking about the story with Wade is still a mercenary and Peter is a college student/civillian. Peter is dating with Matt who is also a close friend with Weasel (same with Wade). Wade and Peter don't know each other at first. There is one day, Wade is back from a mission and passes by Weasel's bar for drinking then at that time Matt brings Peter to Weasel's bar as well, so they both meet each other the first time. After that, Wade has one-sided crush with Peter and he hides it from everyone and tries his best to be still a friend (and of course, Weasel sees it clearly but also keeps his mouth shut). Wade starts to *investigate* about Peter and maybe there is some points that Wade *coincidently* meets Peter somewhere else and have a hang out with him *like friends*.

The next part is the relationship between Matt and Peter getting worse with bad conflicts and arguements. And there is an accident which leads to Matt's death and Peter losses all his memories. He forgets everything about himself about all relationships he has for a period of time. Wade grabs that chance and takes care of Peter, bringing him home and trying his luck to make Peter fall in love with him.

That's all I can think about now 😅 it's not really completed. It can be NSFW at the ending but if it's too hard for you, it don't have to be. I love reading cuddles and sweet hugs and kissed. Please drown me in those stuffs.

For: @chucklumn

Okay this is super angsty and long.

I also got permission to make it about Peter and Harry, because I feel way to attached to Matt to do him dirty like this.

Anyway, Thank you for the amazing request. I hope you enjoy it!! XO

Warnings: Abusive relationship, Peter gets hit once - and also by a bus, SO SO SO much hurt comfort. Happy ending, memory loss. um.... I think that's it.

Word count: 8332 - Whoops.

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

Peter shook off the nightmare about his boyfriend.

Harry was involved in all sorts of things, some of which left a bad taste in Peter’s mouth. He was a complicated man and his business was even more so. Every party, gala, dinner party, would make Peter’s skin crawl.

But it was only for a little while longer. His guilt kept him in check, Harry was the same boy he’d always been and was working really hard to escape some of the more illegal and corrupt aspects of his father’s empire.

By the end of the year everything was going to be perfect. Harry promised.

Peter finally opened his eyes, reaching across the large bed to feel for his boyfriend. As every morning it was vacant. He rolled over and pulled the blankets tightly around himself. He ran through the promises Harry had told him.

He was being ridiculous. Eventually the shaking stopped and he could breathe normally again. He got up out of bed slowly and went straight for the shower.

The thing was very cold looking, it was stone with floor to ceiling glass wall around it. Despite the crisp, modern feel to Harry's apartment it only ever felt warm when he was around.

After rooting around in the cupboards for some breakfast food that didn't make him feel like he was in a rest home, he got started on his latest essay.

He was so focused on this particular part that he didn’t notice Harry come home. A hand came down on his shoulder that made him jump.

“Just me Pete” Harry said looking down at the messy desk. His voice sounded tired and stained.

“Sorry I was just trying to finish this last paragraph. How was work?” He watched as Harry took off his tie and jacket moving into the bedroom.

“It would have been better if you’d answered your phone” He called out. Shit. Peter checked his phone and noticed that he’d missed 4 texts and 2 phone calls. Apparently they were going to meet one of Harry’s friends and Peter was supposed to get ready.

Woops.

He almost wanted to laugh, it’s not like it ever took him more than five minutes to get ready to go anyway. Plus the text said they were meeting at a bar, no reason to look fancy. He heard Harry start the shower and moved through into their shared bedroom.

It was large with massive windows, very pretty. But he still missed their first apartment they had together out of highschool in Queens. This place had too much space, more to put in between them. He shook his head, thoughts like that were his own insecurities nothing more.

He pulled on some jeans and a clean t-shirt. Flopping on the bed waiting for Harry, he floated back to space to think about that last paragraph.

“Peter, can you mix it up tonight? Wear something a bit more complex.” He looked over his boyfriends muscular body. The urge to make a move was strong, but the look in his boyfriend's eyes was a powerful deterrent. There was a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Erm. This is a complex outfit.” He stood up and did a goofy walk to the closet. “It's a classic look, and now I'm going to tastefully layer it with a limited edition OBEY Hoodie I’ve had since I was in highschool. Predictable, delicious, and timeless.” He said it in a TV announcer voice, hoping it could pull the slightest smile from his boyfriend. Normally he would have just quipped something back at him, but he actually wanted to have a good night with him. It was rare that Peter was invited out for a normal pub night. Usually it was just nice restaurants and people who wanted Harry to contribute to their university admission or political career.

And there it was, that stupid grin.

“I know it’s going to be tough running defense on this outfit all night. But you know what you signed up for when you decided to date someone as wicked hot as me. It’s a curse really-” Harry came over and shut him up by placing a soft kiss on his lips. Peter enjoyed the tender moment, with how hard they were both working, it felt rare. He rested his forehead against Peter’s for a moment before getting dressed again.

“I have a friend who’s helping us with some of the accounts and software stuff.”

“You know I could help with that right?” Peter almost wished Harry would let him help.

“Nope. Not having another relationship ruined over this fucking company” He mumbled while checking his phone. Peter shrugged it off.

“So this guy meets in bars?” Peter questioned.

“No, I met him a while back. He runs a bar. He’s more familiar with the stuff my dad set up. Need someone familiar with it to help sort it out.” He sighed, Peter knew that he was almost out of questions for the night.

“Alright.”

_______

This was not a bar.

This was not a normal establishment.

This place gave him a very sick feeling.

There were, for lack of a better word, criminals everywhere. A violent bar fight unfolding in the back corner, the floor was sticky, the lights were too dim, the music too loud. Peter’s head started to pound and his palms got sweaty.

So much for a nice night out with friends.

Harry dragged him up to the bar, which was also sticky, to meet a very peculiar looking man. He seemed like an average enough dude. Except for his eyes, they were too perceptive and dark. They racked over Peter and he smiled like he just won a bet with someone.

“Weasel this is Peter, Peter this is my friend Weasel.” Harry said confidently, almost as if he was bored. Like this place was no different than being at a Denny’s or the apartment. He also hated that it was never my boyfriend Peter, or my partner, even my best friend since kindergarten. Always just Peter.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you” Peter said as politely as he could manage.

“Likewise” Weasel answered again like he was amused by an inside joke. “I’ll take you through to the back to talk about all this. You take a seat and enjoy”

“I’ll be right back.” Harry squeezed Peter’s shoulder before following after Weasel.

Peter’s stomach dropped. He would have been upset if this was a Denny's. But he was extra upset that this abnormal meeting spot left him with a considerably high chance of getting stabbed.

A very awkward looking man took Weasel's spot behind the bar.

“Would you like a drink?” He asked with an accent.

“Yes please - Erm” Normally he always insisted on spending his own money when they went out. He pulled a few days a week at a paid internship and he tried to save as much of it as he could, not wanting to burden Harry. But tonight, he didn't care. “Could I have a vodka cranberry? Please.”

“Good choice Mr.-”

“Parker. Peter Parker.”

“Dopinder! It’s nice to meet you Mr. Parker.” Peter didn't understand why this felt like a job interview but he went with it. The man started to ramble on about different things and Peter was grateful for his more approachable nature as opposed to the many people around him glaring.

He realized that this was a tough guy bar, so he probably ordered a Whiskey or something.

“DOPHINDER! Daddy just got paid, line 'em up for me.” A large man sat down on the stool next to him, Dopinder seemed to light up and pulled a very expensive bottle of tequila down from the shelf.

“And um another one of these pink things for this boy scout here.” His blue eyes turned on Peter and he hated how it made his face flush. He winked and gave him a wolfish smile.

“No, that's alright.” Peter stuttered. He downed the first shot.

“Is it though? Did they even card you? Can’t stand to see the corrupt youth of America in a place like this. Especially unattended.” He spoke a mile a minute and his voice was like honey.

“I’m legal. -” Peter started not knowing where else to begin.

“If you say so cutie.” He winked again. “So what's a place like this doing in a boy like you eh?”

“My boyfriend has a meeting with Weasel.” Peter answered lamely.

“Well I’m Weasel’s best friend, Wade.”

“Peter” They shook hands. Peter couldn't understand how someone so large could have an even larger personality. Soon enough he had Peter howling with laughter, worries about the place almost forgotten. Once Peter relaxed a little bit he managed to keep up with Wades jokes, and they found they had a lot in common.

“You haven’t seen Golden Girls! Tsk Tsk Tsk. You children and your lack of cable TV. You’ll just have to come over some time.” Peter couldn't tell if he was flirting or not, but he did mention earlier that he had a boyfriend.

“I’ll bring the pizza pockets.” Peter said happily. It would be nice to hang out with someone. Since MJ and Ned were both in university out of state he hasn't really seen anyone but Harry. He was trying to make friends with the people in his classes, but they mostly only talked about science and homework.

A Hand came down on his shoulder and caused him to jump. Wade stood up immediately, staring daggers at Harry.

“Wade, this is Harry. Harry, this is my new friend Wade.” Peter made a point not to say boyfriend, or love of his life like he always did.

“Nice to meet you.” Wade said carefully, definitely not in his usual bubbly nature. They shook hands. Weasel came back behind the bar.

“You better not have opened that bottle.” He said pointing his finger at Wade.

“Don't know what you're talking about.” Wade responded cheerfully, taking a sip out of the exact bottle Weasel was talking about.

“You fucking dick. You knew I was saving that.” Weasel moaned.

“Yeah well after that last job you fucking owe me.” He responded with that same sugary smile.

Peter didn't think to ask what he did for work but before he could start a response Harry had started talking.

“Well I think that’s enough for tonight. We will see you guys next time.” He put his arm around Peter and he got up from the stool he was on. Peter was almost sad the night was ending, he wanted Harry’s opinion on Wade’s theory about Grand Admiral Thrawn’s approach to empire building being superior to Palpatine's.

“It was really nice meeting you both.” Peter said with a smile. He looked at the bar to see how many drinks he’d had in the time they were gone. “What do I owe you?” He reached into his pocket.

“Don't worry about it, Bambi. Drinks are on me” Wade said and he felt Harry’s arm tighten around him.

“Thanks. I’ll make up for it next time.” Peter didn't understand the look on everyone’s face. But maybe that’s just because he was pleasantly tipsy.

The ride back to the apartment was very quiet. Peter didn't care. He enjoyed the swirling colors of the city lights and rested his forehead against the cool glass of the window.

____

Wade’s POV.

“Who the fuck was that?” Wade barked at Weasel.

“The idiot ruler of the Oscorp empire.” Weasel said quietly.

“Not him, Bambi, Peter, Boy scout extraordinaire.” Weasel rolled his eyes at Wade’s theatrics.

“His boyfriend. I think.” He could help but twist his face at Weasel's words.

“You think? Think. If he was mine I’d have it tattooed on his forehead. No one would think. They would fucking know that ass was mine.”

“Wade. Look at me.” He reluctantly made eye contact with the slimy man. “Do not chase that.”

The words went in one ear and directly out the other.

He’d never met anyone like him, he was some kind of wonderful. He was possibly the hottest little twink on the planet. Not to mention they had a ton in common. He was funny, but he laughed at Wade’s jokes, like he appreciated them.

Plus he sounded genuine when he said they should hang out.

Jokes on Weasel for thinking that the chase hadn't already begun.

__________________________

Peter’s POV.

He got back home with an insane craving for Chinese food. He kicked off his jeans by the front door, almost falling twice.

“Babe! What do you want from the Chinese Place?” He shouted not releasing Harry was standing in the kitchen.

“Nothing Peter.”

“What come on, we didn't even stay for food.” He laughed “ Not that I would have eaten anything out of that kitchen. Did they even have a kitchen” Harry didn’t seem to find it as amusing as he did.

“You didn't have any problem with the drinks.”

Peter let out a laugh.

“Sorry for trying to be normal. I thought we were going to an average bar to have a few drinks and make a friend. Not get abandoned at the scariest, dirtiest bar in New York.” He should be bothered but he was still too pumped to care. “Not like we ever manage to go to a party or hangout with the people in my class ever.”

“Look I have an image to protect Peter. You know that. You knew that when you decided to get involved with me okay.” He snapped.

“Yeah I know and I did it because I love you.” Peter said softly, hoping to end the fight. “Look, why don't we just get some take out and watch a movie like old times. I’ll even not drink for a bit to let you catch up.” Harry let out a sigh, rubbing his forehead the same way his father used to. He leaned against the counter for a moment before getting up and going into the bedroom shutting the door.

He probably just needed space. Maybe it was a really intense meeting. If he didn't come out in an hour or so he would go check on him.

As predicted he came out midway through Godzilla, pulling the corner of Peter’s blanket. Peter adjusted so they both could curl up under the quilt together.

“This blanket is actually really soft.” He said quietly and Peter took it as an apology.

___

Things settled down. It took a few days but he finally came around explaining that he really just felt bad for leaving Peter alone there. That he shouldn't have gotten jealous. All was forgiven.

Well for the regular amount of time. As his school work load got heavier, so did the demands of his internship. This only lead to more and more headaches with Harry.

Peter felt bad, but by the time he was home going out to dinner with other people sounded like torture. And of course staying in for a movie or dinner was lame to Harry.

So they just focused on what they were doing, tried to give each other a wide berth, knowing that they were both under extra pressure.

But this was also very lonely. Possibly the loneliest he’d ever felt.

Aunt May, Uncle Ben, and Gwen were gone.

He video called with Ned and MJ as much as possible, but they had both joined clubs and made friends.

It was almost dark when he stepped out of the office. Things were looking promising on his current project, and his mentor was very impressed with today’s break though. He texted Harry asking if he wanted to celebrate but he hadn't gotten a reply yet.

So instead he took the subway to Queens. He walked around feeling more like himself in ages. His stomach growled and he smiled when he decided on going to his favorite deli.

He quickly crossed the street, happy to be in the familiar neon glow. He’d been going here with Ben and May since he was little.

Suddenly a large slab of marble collided with his side. Peter jumped in the air before he recognised that it was Wade.

“Sorry man- Oh Bambi!” Wade gave him a big smile “ What brings you to my side of town?”

“All good. I grew up around here actually.” He was still shocked to see him here.

“Alright, can we settle for joint custody?” He laughed.

“Nope born and raised, I get full custody, but I'll bend every second weekend.”

“Damn, I guess I’ll just have to win your heart back. Plans for the night?” He asked, holding the door to the deli open for Peter.

“So far just getting a sandwich. You?”

“Well, it depends on if I can talk you into hanging out or not.” Wade responded easily. The owner greeted both him and Peter.

They joked around and answered questions about their lives, catching Mr. Delmar up while getting to know each other better. This was by far the nicest night he had in a long time.

They said goodnight and the bell jingled on the door as they stepped out into the night.

“So you wanna sit together?” Wade asked.

“Uh - Yeah, thanks. That would be really nice.” Peter felt uneasy about going to another man’s house. He didn't know Wade that well, and he should check with Harry, especially about how upset he got when they had met. Peter followed beside Wade as they walked along the street, he was enjoying the feeling of home while also figuring out a way to get out of going back to Wade’s apartment”

“You are legal right?” Wade asked suddenly. Peter almost choked on his own spit. “Relax pumpkin, not trying to put you and Mr. Fancypants on the rocks. Just want to know if you can come in with me.”

Peter looked behind him to see the glaring liquor store sign behind him.

“Yes, I'm legal.” Peter answered tiredly. He followed Wade into the store.

“And what do you like to drink?” He looked down at Peter. He was standing so close, it threw Peter off again.

“Coolers.” Peter whispered.

“What a baby.” Wade exclaimed as he picked up the pack Peter pointed to out of the fridge.

After refusing to let Peter pay, he decided he really should ask what Wade did for a living.

The cashier only ID’d Peter much to Wade’s amusement.

To his surprise, Wade didn't bring him back to his apartment. He hauled his bulky frame up a fire escape with grace. Peter awkwardly followed wondering how on earth he managed that with carrying all the food and booze.

Finally reaching the top he instantly fell in love. There was a strange garden patio on this roof. It was a complete mess, but at the same time it was absolutely perfect.

“Who lives here?” Peter whispered, touching the flowers.

“I do, some of the time.” Wade handed Peter a lawn chair. “My best friend Al lets me stay for chunks at a time.”

“I thought Weasel was your best friend?” Peter responded, getting his sandwich out.

“All my friends are best friends I guess.” He shrugged. Peter suddenly wanted to be one of these best friends more than anything.

The night passed easily. They watched the city, laughing, and surprisingly the conversation drifted to some more difficult things.

Wade opened up about losing his parents, briefly mentioned he was in the army leaving him with PTSD, and that he’d lost his girlfriend a few years ago. Which prompted him to talk about losing Gwen in high school to cancer, and Uncle Ben shortly after. Then finally Aunt May almost a year ago.

They had too much pain in common. It was the easiest thing in the world to talk to him.

“Guess we’ve both had a rough go of it eh?” Wade said, focused on the lights below. Peter’s heart strings pulled in his chest.

“Yeah, but we have each other now. So that’s a win.”

Wade gave him a big smile.

___

That was the start of many many hang outs. Wade spamed his phone 24/7 with memes and ideas, and he started calling when he would have episodes. Peter never minded calming him down, and Wade would always answer if Peter woke up from a nightmare.

He even joined a discord chat with Ned and MJ joining their gaming team for an evening, and was on time for every meet up after that. Occasionally he traveled, always bringing Peter back horribly tacky souvenirs.

Every time he had a panic attack Wade was there, with copious amounts of jokes and food. He even gave decent advice being older. He was a really good friend.

Peter had a big presentation at the university to promote the Bio Chemistry and Chemical Engineering programs. He was so nervous the night before that he was puking most of the night. But next morning in the front row Wade was there. Dressed up like a gym bro, going by the name Chad. He said he was trying to blend in, but deep down Peter knew he did it to make him smile. The presentation went well and he started to get closer with a few people in his class. Wade always harassed him via text to hang out with people after lectures and eventually he started giving in.

Occasionally he wondered if Wade was interested in him, but then again Wade was interested in everyone. Always flirting, with everyone, not just Peter….

Peter tried to include Harry in every hangout, letting him look through his phone whenever he wanted. He wanted Harry to trust him desperately. Ideally he hoped they could be a friend group like with MJ and Ned. Back when things were easier. But Harry was working hard and just didn't have the time. So Peter tried not to bother him about it anymore.

It felt like everything was a fight. Bringing his favorite cereal in the house was defined as an act of war. Everything had a place in Harry’s apartment, except for Peter apparently.

Harry just wanted him to eat better

Peter ran his hands through his messy hair. Harry was just trying to keep their future together, that’s why he was so cranky.

The guilt hit Peter like a massive wave. He could handle this, he gripped the edge of the countertop. Make it up to Harry. Do something nice.

They were supposed to go to dinner for a date night, but maybe Peter could surprise him with dinner instead. Only snag is that he didn't know how to cook.

So he called Wade. That man could cook anything, often making them dinner when they would hangout on the roof.

“You okay Bambi?” His voice sounded groggy.

“Shit did I wake you up?” Peter hated waking him up, he rarely slept.

“Nope. What happened?”

“Well. Harry is mad at me.” He heard Wade let out a sigh. Peter only ever occasionally talked about the problems they experienced. Most people would get the wrong idea about it, not understanding everything they went through together. “And I want to make him dinner to make up for it.”

“What did you do wrong?” Wade asked softly.

“It's complicated- ” Peter knew that if he said that it was because he brought home the wrong cereal Wade would be upset.

“Peter, it sounds like it’s always complicated. If you don't want to talk about it, that’s okay. Just promise you’ll tell me if things get bad okay?” Peter was phased by Wade's serious tone, suddenly all he could think about was telling Wade everything. Maybe he would know how to fix it? Or why nothing Peter ever did was right? Or he would get upset and he might tell Weasel or Harry then everyone would be upset. Not to mention they would be upset over nothing, because nothing was worrisome.

“I promise. But right now I need to cook something healthy but delicious.”

“Alright Bambi.”

The afternoon passed in a blur. Wade stayed on the phone while Peter ran to the shop to get the ingredients and walked him through everything, step by step. His tone was slightly off and Peter was aware that somewhere along the way he’d upset Wade.

“Are you upset with me?” Peter asked while dumping the prepped vegetables into the frying pan.

“Just a little worried that’s all.”

“Sorry for upsetting you.” Peter’s heart clenched. He was wasting Wade’s whole afternoon on this.

“Peter. Stop. I’m not upset. I just hope this guy knows you're worth it. Ya know.”

“I’m really not though. I’m messy, introverted, too loud, and I'm always busy but never with the right stuff, my clothes are wrong -” Peter’s mind was racing with the thousands of things wrong with him, heart hammering, tears starting to well up in his eyes.

“Peter, you are literally none of those things. But before you tell me it's because we’ve only been friends for 6 months, call MJ or Ned. They know you and Harry. Okay? Just promise me that you’ll mention to them you're having a hard time with this stuff.”

Peter took a few deep breaths. It wasn't an awful idea, and maybe he’s right, maybe they would have an idea on how to fix things.

“I promise I’ll talk to them this week. Thanks Wade.” Finally he started to calm down.

“No problem Bambi, so how are the vegetables looking?”

“FUCK. OH NO NONONONONONO” The vegetables were smoking. He turned the burner off and moved them onto another burner. Poking through them with a wooden spoon he could see that there wasn't any way to salvage them. He realized Wade was still on the phone.

“So I burnt the veggies.” Peter put the phone on speaker phone, placing it on the marble counter top.

“It's okay. The stuff in the oven is good right?”

“Yeah,” Peter sniffled. God it was pathetic he was tearing up but he was just trying so hard to make this work. Now Harry was just going to be angry with him for fuckng this up too.

“Don’t cry, Bambi.” Wade said softly. “You said his fridge was filled with salad stuff right. We can just make a salad.”

“Okay, yeah Chicken and Salad. That's normal. It will be good.” Peter wiped his face with his sleeve.

“What the fuck happened.” Harry said calmly from the edge of the kitchen.

“Erm - well I thought I would try to make us dinner, and well - I kind of murdered the vegetables - but then I remembered we had salad stuff so I’m just going to make a salad.” Peter straightened up, hoping to god that Harry couldn't tell that he’d been crying.

“Peter. I said we were going out to dinner.” He snapped and pinched the bridge of his nose. “ I got you a suit to wear and everything. Why did you bother with all this!”

“Well it was date night and I wanted to make you something special.” His throat got tight and Peter was wondering how much more he could take.

“You can’t fucking cook.”

“Wade walked me through it. – we”

“No! No more we. No more Wade. No more of this Peter. I tell you what we are doing and every time you try to mess it up or do something else. How selfish can you be?”

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to make everything up to you.” Peter said quietly. Harry took a few deep breaths and there was a very tense electricity in the air. But he turned it around like he always did.

“Look, I’m sorry for yelling. This is-” He smirked. “Not what I expected. Just caught me off guard.” Harry pulled him into a hug. “I guess I just have big news and wanted to surprise you somewhere nice.”

“Do you think we could just stay in?” Peter said softly, his whole body tensed up waiting for the usual response.

“Sure. You said you have a roast or something in there.”

“Yep.” He nodded.

“I'm gonna shower then we can sort this whole thing out okay?”

“Okay.” Peter responded. He waited till he heard the shower start before he moved again. He let out a deep shaky breath, before realizing Wade was still on the phone.

“Fuck, Wade?” He whispered.

“You gotta get out of there baby. Peter listen to me, I’ve been there before okay. You need to get out of there. Just let me pick you up, we can talk over everything, you can make me understand.” His voice was that same serious tone as earlier and it made Peter start to shake.

“Look, I'll think about it.” He whispered then hung up. Wade started texting him so he turned his phone off just in case.

He got the salad, well what he thought was a salad together then threw it into a pot big enough to hold it. He swore they had mixing bowls or serving bowls he just didn't know where.

He set the table that they never ate at.

They sat down and tried the chicken. Peter thought it was perfect, but Harry found it too dry. After a few glasses of wine they talked about the big news. For a moment Peter thought he might propose.

Apparently after some persuasion from his father’s old business advisers he decided to keep all the side ventures. Pouring more money into the military contracts.

They were determined to keep pushing the chemical warfare programs, selling it off all over the world under the table. All of this was illegal. They needed the labs, only a portion of what they worked on would be legal, everything else was just nightmarish.

Peter felt his heart break further than it already had. Years of pushing the company out this direction for him to do a 180.

“The reason I decided to do this was because the pay out can be used towards different charities and things you're interested in. Millions of dollars Pete, you decide where it goes.” Harry had that look on his face when he lied. This was just to sway Peter into thinking this was right. A loads of people will die, wars started, endless heart break, but Peter Parker ensured that the library in Queens got more funding.

“Is the paperwork signed?” He asked coldly.

“Tomorrow morning. Look I know this isn't what we had hoped for, but I’ll make sure that some good comes out of it. I’m just out of options.” There was a flash of the old harry in his eyes. That scared little boy.

“I’m going out for the night. You sign those papers in the morning, and I’m moving out.” Peter got up before he had a chance to react. He moved into the bedroom and locked the door. He threw his most important things into his old backpack.

When he came back he threw all the stuff on his desk into a rubber tote. Harry sat there staring at the table.

“I’m not going to let you leave.” Harry said. “Who are you going to run to? Wade? Fuck Pete do you even know what he does for a living? He kills people. He’s a mercenary Peter. And you look at me like I’m a monster.” The words were a blow to the stomach, it would explain a lot of things, but he knew better than to trust anything he said when he was like this.

They fought, despite how hard he wanted to just slip out of there. Harry fought him hard too, but eventually that burning temper got the most of him and a firm hit landed on Peter’s face. Harry fell apart and Peter picked up his tote and walked out. The air was cold on his wet face. Not knowing what else to do he called Wade.

“Bambi!”

“Wade. Listen, I need you to call Weasel. Remember that lawyer we hung out with one time, Matt? I need you to tell them to shut down the up and coming Oscorp trade agreement. Everything about it is illegal, make it public, do whatever it takes.”

“Okay I will. Are you okay? What happened?!”

“Are you a mercenary?”

“Look, I wanted to talk to you about that. Technically I’m recently retired.” Peter hung up the phone and threw up into some bushes. The panic started to set in, he didn't even realize he was in Queens till he was there. He called Ned and briefly explained that Harry’s place isn't safe for him and wondered if his Lola would take him in for the night, if not he would call MJ’s mom. He said it was fine and would call him back when he got it set up.

Walking towards Ned’s Lola’s house. He stood on a street corner when he saw a small dog run into the street. He put down the tote, trying to call the dog over.

Suddenly an old Lady ran out after the little dog. Traffic didn't look like it was going to stop, so Peter quickly ran out moving the old Lady out of the way.

A truck wiped past them and he let out a breath as his hair was blown around. Cars stopped and he let her go. She took a few steps forward when suddenly everything went black.

____________________________________________________________

Wade was in complete panic mode. Not only were things way way worse for Peter than he thought, he’d now lost him forever.

Fucking Mr. Fancypants. He pulled his hair.

He’d done everything that Peter had asked and now there was just Radio silence. What ever that stupid kid lined up was now all over the news thanks to a few phone calls.

God he sounded so broken on the fucking phone.

He should have told him about what he did. FUCK. Dopinder called.

“Mr. Wilson. I was driving in Queens earlier. And I saw Mr. Bambi get hit by a bus-” Wade’s whole body started to feel like shattering glass. HIT BY A FUCKING BUS. FOR FUCKS SAKE.

“Where did they take him?!” Wade demanded.

“I followed the ambulance to Queens hospital center.”

Wade hung up the phone and cringed; he hated that place. That’s where good people went to die. Where she went to die.

He was out the door in record time and into the ER. He looked around for someone to tell him where Peter was. That’s when his eyes landed on Mr. Fancy pants.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Wade asked anger surging through him. His knuckles were busted up, if he found out that it was Peter on the receiving end of that blow Harry would be a dead man.

“I’m his partner okay, He’s mine not yours. He’s always been mine.” Wade resisted the urge to hit him. He was clearly drunk and getting thrown out would not help Peter.

“What’s his status?”

“They think he’s going to be okay.” Harry said, he almost looked hopeful. Like he could have Peter back to do whatever horrible bullshit he did to Peter regularly.

He couldn't get thrown out, but he could get Harry thrown out. He texted Weasel his location and not a few minutes later the popo showed up and dragged him off in handcuffs.

A drunk idiot just like his father. Not that Wade was any better.

Wade went to work calling everyone Pete was close with. Made sure his classmate told his teachers that Peter couldn't attend class and would provide doctors notes.

MJ said she would come home for as long as she could to help.

Then finally he caught Ned on the phone who was freaking out trying to find Peter. Ned filled him in on the Harry situation. So that bastard did hit him. Too bad Wade had lots of friends in prison who would kill someone for as little as a cigarette.

Then it was a waiting game. A game he knew too well. His mind replaying the jagged memories of Vanessa getting shot. His heart twisting knowing he fucked up again.

If he would have set things right with Peter right away he could have come and picked him up. Taken him home, held him close.

Fuck.

______

After a day of refusing to leave, they eventually let him through to see Peter. He looked, well, like he’d been hit by a bus. But it wasn't too bad, like the bus wasn't going full speed, or Peter happened to be wrapped in lots of bubble wrap at the time.

He looked at Wade with those big brown eyes that made his heart melt.

“Hey baby boy.” Wade said softly. His face turned bright red, and he looked… confused. Very confused.

“I’m sorry. I just, I don’t know you?” He looked over to the nurse.

“Look kid. I have no idea. He’s not on your paperwork. But he’s been here all night waiting for you.” The nurse swayed out of the room.

Peter looked back at Wade taking him in differently. Like he was trying really hard to tell who he was. The urge to lie to him was so strong, tell him that he was his boyfriend. That he’d dumped Harry and was planning on staying with Wade forever. They were going to get married, adopt dogs, and be together forever.

But those brown eyes had seen too much. Wade’s mind was flooded with the way his face would fall when he talked about Gwen or his Aunt and Uncle. No, despite how much he wanted Peter, he needed to do this properly.

“We’re best friends.” Wade said with a lump in his throat.

“Oh, um do I have parents or anything? Is it okay that you're here to help me? I don't want to bother you.”

Wade tried not to cry, he looked out the window for a moment. This was going to be a very rocky road.

____________

Wade came to the hospital everyday, stayed till they threw him out. After around two weeks they agreed to let Wade take him home.

He got his apartment cleaned out and ready for him. Dophinder grabbed the tote he’d left at the intersection. Wade placed all that stuff into the spare bedroom he had.

He wasn't sure how Peter would react to his place. It was a penthouse apartment but it was ancient, nothing like Harry’s place that he would see when they would video call. But then again it's not like he would know any better.

“Wow, cool apartment.” Peter said, looking around. It was sunny so the place was lit up nicely.

“Thanks.” Wade said.

“So you need a better outfit eh?” Peter looked down at the too big sweatpants and huge hoody Wade had brought for him to change into.

“Preferably yeah.”

Because he was feeling better Wade took him shopping. Showering him in gifts and clothes was easy and a welcome bit of happiness. It had been almost two weeks since the incident and Peter still had no idea who he was.

They came home and he and Peter spent the evening on the bedroom floor building the new furniture. Well, Peter sat in an old bean bag supervising while Wade drank and swore at the various bits. He almost had to call Al to come over to help, but he pulled it together once he could find the missing packet of screws under the bean bag.

Peter’s laugh was still the best thing he had ever heard.

Wade had explained what he knew about his parents and Aunt and Uncle right away. But there were still a lot of other things to discuss. A few days had passed and he was settling into a nice routine here. He only lost memories about himself, his abilities to do his studies were not impacted.

One night Wade sat watching TV well into the early hours of the morning when Peter came out wrapped in his blanket, it was a worn quilt that was from his tote. He sat down next to Wade on the couch.

“Wade.” Peter said softly.

“Yeah Bambi?”

“Were we fighting when I got hit by the bus?”

“Yep” Wade answered reluctantly.

“I had a nightmare about it.”

“Okay we are going to have this conversation now. But first I’m gonna send you some money okay.”

“What why? No I don't need your money Wade?” His eyes were so scared Wade suddenly thought jumping out the window would be less painful than this. He sent the money to Peter’s account then put his phone away.

“Okay. Here’s the thing. MJ and Ned will be here in a few days. Now when you walk out of here there is a decent hotel three blocks down. Take the money and when they show up they’ll look after you okay?” Wade was starting to sweat.

“Did you cheat on me?” Peter gasped.

“Babe we weren’t in a relationship.” Wade smiled.

“Right. Sorry, you just know me so well I - forgot - well not like -”

Wade cut him off and started to explain how they met. Everything with Harry was plastered across the news, so they’d covered that part of the story. But this was meat and potatoes. Peter’s face twisted up when Wade explained the jump between here and the military. He killed people. LOTS OF PEOPLE.

They were really bad people though, that must make it a little bit right? Right?

Peter just shook his head.

“You're lying.” He whispered, tears welling up in his eyes.

“No Baby, but I really wish I was.” Wade got up slowly because Peter was a jumpy little bug. Walked over to a trunk in the corner of the room.

“It’s all in here if you want to go through it?” Wade gripped it knuckles white, just wishing that Peter would leave and break him already. But Peter just didn't give up on people like that. Memory or not he was still just Peter.

Wade went for a walk, letting him digest the situation. He walked to the bridge and looked over the edge for a long time. He could jump now. Not have to do this again. Why would he potentially send Peter in right behind Vanessa.

His phone rang and was relieved to see it was his home phone.

“Wade?”

“Hey”

“Can you come home now?”

“Of course.” Peter hug up and Wade started on the walk back to his house. He thought about picking up some of Peter’s favorite food, but he knew that it would take a lot more than some spring rolls to fix this.

Peter was just good, all of him was good. He didn't have a mean or twisted bone in his body. Wade had his reasons but he was everything that Peter stood against. They were entirely incompatible.

And yet he opened the door to see him sitting with all of the bits of Wade’s life scattered upon the floor. Wade sat down on the floor across from him.

“You had a lot of contracts huh?” Peter said awkwardly.

“Yeah.” Wade nodded.

“Why did you do it?”

“After the army it was all I was good at.” Wade’s body got tight again, hands started to shake, he really really didn't want to do this.

“But you retired.”

“Yeah, I met this really great guy and I wanted to be something to him.” Wade watched Peter think about what he said. His face was unreadable for once.

“Did it work?”

“You tell me?” Wade said without thinking. He watched as Peter connected the dots between the words he couldn't take back.

“Hold on, the whole time we were friends, you were in love with me?” He said in disbelief.

“Who said anything about being in love?” Wade joked but Peter flung himself across the papers. Wade caught his slender frame easily. Unsure of how to hold him with all his bruising. Peter's arms folded around his neck, Wade sat there for a few moments in a daze before realizing he was crying.

“Woah, it’s alright. I love you. It’s okay, don't cry.”

“I can't stop.” He said in between sniffles. Wade stood up easily carrying Peter into his room and placing him on the bed. “Don't leave!” Peter snapped.

“I won’t” Wade climbed in after him, adjusting so he could hold him tight.

“God, my boyfriend, who was my childhood best friend, was abusive. Everyone in my family is dead, my first girlfriend is dead. And I fell in love with an ex-mercenary. Fuck me”

“I would but you're having an emotional breakthrough.” Wade responded, earning him a little chuckle from Peter.

“Promise me you're done with that life?” Wade looked into his red eyes.

“I promise. No more killing.” They had a tender moment, gripping each other tightly. Knowing that they had each other finally. Eventually Peter’s breaths evened out and Wade assumed he’d fallen asleep.

“I’m surprised you're not in jail.” He whispered.

“You’d be surprised the kind of money the government paid to get-”

“Wade! You worked with the law?” Peter whisper yelled.

“Sometimes yeah.”

“Why?”

“Peter, I just wanted to make things right. Sometimes that involves difficult choices. Ones that I'm only good at making.” He shrugged.

“Sorry for crying so much.”

“Oh honey, this is nothing. I was out for three weeks when Betty White died” Peter nuzzled his face into Wade’s neck.

There were so many feelings here. So many more that he remembered being possible.

That was just the start, that night things started to come back to Peter in chunks. He could remember his childhood, then everyone dying.

He was twisted up desperately missing Harry, till the rest hit him full force. All the wrong turns they had taken in their relationship. Harry forcing him to move into a nicer apartment out of Queens, the constant avoidance of dealing with their problems, Peter always thinking everything was his fault. Never being able to pick anything for himself, always being paraded around when Harry knew he hated it.

All of it went bad at some point. And Peter was desperately trying to find a memory or a situation that made it all his fault.

Thankfully MJ and Ned had flown in and reassured him that it wasn't his fault. Both of them hadn't been close with Harry in a very long time, but they had no idea things had gotten that bad.

MJ broke into Harry’s apartment and collected the rest of Peter’s things so he didn't have to go back there.

Wade didn't think it was possible but once Peter got his memory back he was even more in love with Wade. All the inside jokes and memes were back. Everything was perfect.

Which brought them to roof top chow down on Wade’s building.

Peter moved off of his chair to sit between Wade’s legs. He was probably the most affectionate person Wade had ever met. Not having been held in ages they were both probably starved for it.

He settled into Wade’s chest, and they looked at the sun set.

“So I was thinking.” Peter started. “Would you mind if I stayed here? I can pay half the rent, or like if that’s too soon I can also get a place close by in the next month or so.”

“You were going to leave?” Wade said in disbelief, taking his sunglasses off.

“Well I didn't want to assume.”

“No no, after everything you're mine.” Wade stated possessively. Peter leaned up and pressed a soft kiss on his lips. Fireworks would be an understatement. Wade’s hand’s came up to cradle Peter’s face pulling him further into the kiss. Peter let out a moan and Wade’s heart stopped. It shouldn’t be possible for someone to be this wonderful. They broke the kiss, and Wade looked down into Peter’s flushed face, his eyes blown out still focused on Wade's lips.

“Fuck” He said in a breathy tone.

“You want to take this to the bedroom.”

“Please. Yes. Please” Peter said, nodding enthusiastically.

Wade carried him downstairs despite his protests. Threw him on the bed.

After that it was a glorious mess. They spent the rest of the day in bed, Wade determined to pull every from Peter, Wade wanted every dirty thought, every secret.

Wade wanted him forever.

[vvienne]

XICHENG FIC RECS

hold my hands by Snooze (Chiruka)

Transplanting a core into a new person isn’t without repercussions. One year after the events at Guanyin Temple, Jiang Cheng found himself once again faced with the possibility of losing everything he had. Reconciling with his brother, learning to let Jin Ling go, and dealing with his blooming emotions toward the First Jade of Gusu — will Jiang Cheng accomplish what he wants before time runs out?

it all passes someday by screamlet

A week before the anniversary of Wei Wuxian’s death, there was a commotion outside Lan Wangji’s house.

*

Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji over the years.

The Unlikely Expression of Love by manamune

When everything has settled, when everyone else has moved on with their lives and their friends, Jiang Cheng has a realization which shouldn’t actually be a surprise:

He’s lonely.

Indigo, lavender, and violet (I don't wanna be red) by ohwhatevrewhatevr

It, in the pale colors of the late morning, is the closest to perfect Jiang Cheng will ever reach. He strokes Lan XiChen's hair and presses a light kiss to where his ribbon and hair meet. The sky is a pale blue, and the pastels of flowers and clouds are spread out through the window, a brilliant world waiting for them, them in the gentian house, safe from stronger breezes - there is the clutter of birds fluttering and chirping outside. It is a warm, perfect, spring morning.

Jiang Cheng and Lan XiChen have been together for an year. In which, no one ever really gets over things, Jiang Cheng has the misfortune of interacting with his brother, the juniors help out with the proposal, and there's a marriage.

Altitude by starknjarvis 

When Jin Ling lures Jiang Cheng to the Cloud Recesses under false pretenses, he finds himself out of place among this new family Wei Wuxian has formed.

Lan Xichen, at least, seems pleased to have his company.

Perhaps there is still a chance for Jiang Cheng to make amends and move forward.

[Modao Zushi Online] GLITCH REPORT: My Brother Got Chased Down And %$@*$&@ By Gusu Dungeon Boss??? by oh_fudgecakes

Modao Zushi Online is a virtual reality MMORPG. Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian are top ranking players in its new server, currently tied with their arch-nemesis from their previous server, Wen Chao. In an attempt to defeat him, they take on the Gusu Dungeon Boss, Zewu-jun, to win the reward of a legendary weapon. Ever the cheat, Wei Wuxian tries to take advantage of a glitch to defeat the seemingly undefeatable boss. It backfires. Jiang Cheng gets fucked by a boss monster.

He can't get enough.

Meanwhile, Lan Xichen, the unwitting staff member in charge of controlling Zewu-jun, absolutely did not sign up to be pulled into a secret virtual reality fling with a player. Mod Ji, who has to deal with Wei Wuxian's incessant glitch reporting of his brother's sex life, is long-suffering.

Mulberry by xxdz

Jiang Cheng grits his teeth and pushes harder. He feels like torn silk, the embroidery needle sinking in again and again and again; patiently, desperately, endlessly trying to make something beautiful out of something broken.

Jiang Cheng builds his sect, learns embroidery, and raises his nephew.

we can raise a little family by lanyon

“Well, brother,” says Wei Wuxian, leaning against the outside of Jiang Cheng’s chambers. “I had heard that you and Xichen went on a night hunt and came back with a baby, which is not the order I’d choose to do things in…”

In which Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen acquire a baby of unknown origin, and are the very last to know what it means.

Beyond the Impossible by Silverine

Summoned by Lan Qiren, Jiang Wanyin goes to the Cloud Recesses to drop his nephew Jin Ling, expecting to discuss relevant matters with his old master. Instead, he's asked to take with him no other than Sect Leader Lan himself, all the way back to Lotus Pier. If the reason why he accepted such an outrageous task is indeed a mystery, he's about to be surprised by how this entire trip, their encounters, and his warm company, suddenly feel fated.

Incrementally by xxdz

Jiang Cheng is trapped in a day on repeat where he begins by waking in Zewu Jun’s bed at dawn and ends by dying painfully at dusk.

It’s getting very irritating, and he has the sneaking suspicion that his chances to solve his own murder are rapidly running out. Soon, his death will be much more permanent.

All in all, worst birthday ever.

Audience of One by WinterDreams

“Then let an established star go first,” Lan Xichen interrupts again before Lan Wangji can give a stubborn reply. Both men twist toward Lan Xichen, and he smiles at Wei Wuxian’s tilted head. “If I publicly date a man for awhile first, your engagement shouldn’t receive as much backlash.”

Or, that AU where everyone is famous in some way or another, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji have been dating in private for years, and Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng pretend to date publicly for their brothers' sake.

A Bit of Ruthlessness by jirluvien

When Jiang Cheng hears that Lan Xichen went into seclusion following Jin Guangyao’s death, it’s almost as if he can see the grabby hands of a restless ghost, reaching out for something to keep him company. For something warm and living and devastated. And as history has proved time and time again, the Lans are perfect victims when it comes to giving in to ghosts.Yeah, no. Not on Jiang Cheng’s fucking watch.A story about grief, determination, unexpected friendships, abandoned watchtowers, and letters. So many letters.

All Tied Up In You by Clearpearls

Yet again, the night had come to this:

Jiang Cheng on the floor, kneeling, Zidian wrapped around his wrists.

Alone.

Thank You, and I'm Sorry by Hamliet

Jin GuangYao might be dead, but his story is not. Taking advantage of the chaos he instigated, someone makes an attempt on the life of the young new leader of the Jin Sect. When Jiang Cheng takes Jin Ling to the Cloud Recesses to have him study while he attempts to work with Wei WuXian and his husband Lan WangJi to eliminate the threat, he encounters a mourning Lan XiChen, lovestruck teenagers, and a persistent corpse--and both pairs of brothers find themselves struggling to move on.

saturn's rings (don't be a heartbreaker) by iskendaris

Set after the seige of burial mounds, Yunmeng rebuilds as they hold the first Discussion Conference at Lotus Pier. Sometimes the night is a gift, a refuge for loneliness. "So stern, Sect Leader Jiang," Lan Xichen murmured, "So glacial... What will it take to melt that icy exterior? What can I say?"

"Nothing. There's nothing you can say or offer."

reciprocity by jukeboxhound

There’s a pause before Lan Xichen says, in a tone that’s a little more neutral, “I would like to paint on you.”

“…What?”

“Of course, if you say ‘yes’ but then change your mind at any point, for any reason, you need only say so and I will stop immediately,” he adds.

Well, silver lining: Jiang Cheng is feeling much more awake than he was a moment ago.

Talent Hunt Crew Finds Angry Guy Shouting On College Campus, Recruits Him For Vocal Projection Abilities by oh_fudgecakes

Jiang Cheng, resident Angry Guy and heir to a conglomerate empire, has never been the apple of his father’s eye. Quashed under the shadow of his brilliant brother, the music prodigy Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng sees his chance to turn things around when he is recruited by the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt. One problem: he can’t sing to save his goddamn life.

As he struggles to develop his nascent singing abilities, Jiang Cheng finds himself sucked into the whirlwind drama of reality TV, helped along by his adoring siblings, his irritable vocal coach Wen Qing, and strangely enough, the unfairly attractive host of the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt, Lan Xichen. Somewhere in the glare of the stage lights and an unexpected first love, Jiang Cheng stumbles upon the thing he was searching for all along: the courage to dream — and to attempt the impossible.

Marginal Costs by ohwhatevrewhatevr

“You think you know what you want, Er-Ge,” A-Yao says. “But you should consider what you’re willing to give first,” he says wryly, taking Lan XiChen’s chess piece with slim, skilled fingers.

Lan XiChen looks up at A-Yao’s concentrated expression and the hint of contentment on his face that he is special enough to be allowed to see.

“It’s not just one decision, but the lead up to many more. One decision decides what else you’re going to have to pay, and each time you have to ask yourself, ignoring the sunk costs, if this time it’s worth it as well.”

When his sworn brother looks up at him with those clear, amber eyes, waiting, Lan XiChen feels the pull and gives in: he asks.

“Are you happy being in love?”

(First half is two sad sworn brothers talking, internally mourning how unfortunate their other sworn brother’s death was :/ and second half is when a mopey boy in blue meets an angsty boy in purple whilst chasing a demonic cultivator, and a lil bit of sexy dual cultivation happens.)

Somewhat Tender by theherocomplex

There is no defense against kindness; it has always undone him.

I didn't expect you to be lonely (too) by bettydice (BettyKnight)

Jiang Cheng's life is a mess, he's a mess, and he doesn't miss his brother at all. So when his sister gifts him ten sessions with a massage therapist, who turns out to be someone he was crushing on for a hot minute as a teenager and is still as hot as ever... yeah, that might as well happen. It won't have to mean anything.

This feels intimate to Jiang Cheng in a way that's probably very inappropriate and maybe even pathetic. Nobody touches him like this, right where he’s hurt the most. There's no one who handles him so gently, so carefully.

It's the gentleness that's his undoing, he thinks. He would be able to deal better with it if it was painful.

Life for Rent by yodasyoyo

“Yeah well. You’re not taking me seriously. This guy is my soulmate!”

“Soulmate.” Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

“Just because you don’t believe in them—”

“I believe in them!” Jiang Cheng says. “I’ve never denied they exist.”

“Just last week you said that it was an evolutionary quirk that had been used by greetings card companies, movie makers, and corporations to exploit lonely and vulnerable people.”

“And I stand by it! That doesn’t mean that soulmates aren’t real. Just incredibly unlikely and probably pointless.

-

Or:

Xicheng vs Soulmates. Fight!

Halfway Around the World by theherocomplex

Normally, Jiang Cheng would be seething, jaw clenched tight, if someone sounded like that while they were talking, but — Lan Xichen has the trick of always making you feel like you're in on the joke, whatever the joke is. That you're laughing together.

Whelmed by yodasyoyo

For months now Jiang Cheng’s been idly fantasizing about how it would be if something were to come between Wei Ying and Lan Zhan. Mostly those daydreams have been simple enough — they break up (probably because Lan Zhan is boring or Wei Ying is annoying), Wei Ying is sad for a couple of days (Jiang Cheng’s willing to allow some space for feelings, he isn't a total monster), but then Wei Ying realizes he’s better off, he gets over it, and Jiang Cheng gets his brother back.

Unfortunately the fantasy version of events has only proven partially true, so far. They've broken up. Wei Ying has been sad.

Now weeks have passed, though — and Wei Ying is still sad, every. Single. Day.

It’s like Jiang Cheng's stuck in a looping GIF, and it’s driving him insane.

Or:

Jiang Cheng plots, Lan Huan pines, and, unfortunately for Lan Qiren, Wangxian are inevitable.