Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Atsumu pants, streaking through the snowy forest. The sound of horses and brutish shouting behind him, he throws off pieces of his armor one by one as he runs. Too bright in the winter night and too heavy to run well in, he could hear the sounds of galloping getting closer and closer—

A hand grabs him by the collar, dragging him up forcibly before another hand pulls him onto the horse's back. Atsumu chokes, the rough grab and heavy landing on the horse knocking the air out of him. He inhales, trying to fill his lungs back up with air as he lies there. Too disoriented to fight back. 

Someone next to him shouts in a language he doesn't understand. A large hand rubs his back, the thin white shirt he had chosen to wear underneath his armor doing nothing to stop the cold, winter air and the warmth of a human seeping through. Atsumu wriggles, attempting to push himself further up but the hand quickly pushes his neck back down to face the dark coat of the horse underneath him. 

The light from the torches and the sound of riding horses come closer and closer if the crunch of hooves against the snow is a tell. Atsumu shivers as someone touches the inner part of his thigh, suddenly self-aware that he had forgone pants in his mindless rush to defend the city walls. 

The city. 

Osamu had been there, fighting back to back with Atsumu until they had been separated and Atsumu had been forced to run when the calvary had stormed the palace walls. He had run past the bodies on the ground and into the forest as they continued to chase, chasing a general rather than the royal family? Unheard of. And yet here he was, held down by the enemy, freezing and half-naked.

Unease settles in at the thought of them capturing Osamu. He had to have survived the siege, there would be no other way. There couldn’t be another way. Osamu had been by his side for 20 years, even longer since they had shared the same womb. He would know if Osamu died, surely. And Atsumu knew despite his brother’s idiotic decisions, he wasn't dumb enough to stick around when the city walls had fallen. Unless... unless he had stayed to protect the crown prince.  

"An omega," someone says in Atsumu’s native language, their accent too thick and clunky to be a native speaker, surprise evident in their tone. 

Except this voice comes from the side of him so he assumes it's not whoever is keeping him down. Atsumu snarls, not happy to be pulled away from his thoughts on where his brother might be, and aggrieved to be called by his secondary gender by barbarians. 

He kicks out, hoping some unlucky bastard gets kicked in the face. He hits something solid, and someone grunts in pain as the other men laugh. Something akin to satisfaction runs down his spine, but it's short-lived as someone chuckles, this time it comes from on top of him and it's a deep, sadistic chuckle that Atsumu knows well. 

"Sakusa," he spits, and the hand on his neck pushes harder. "What the fuck are ya doing? Attacking without yer flag? In the dead of night? Where is yer honor ya sick bastard—" 

The hand against his inner thigh pinches at the little bit of soft meat on his upper thigh and Atsumu snarls again, thrashing out in another attempt to pull himself up. 

"Your accent is thicker when you're angry, Miya," He says coolly, and if Atsumu hadn't known earlier he now knows it is definitely Sakusa Kiyoomi who has him thrown on the back of a horse like a bag of rice. "Know your place, it was hard to catch you." 

"Shut the fuck up you dumb motherfucker, I'm gonna fucking kill you. Fucking unhand me!" He yells, and a pair of hands brings his ankles together as he thrashes like a fish out of water. It's to no avail, however, and a rope is tied around his ankles. So tight that any movement brushes against his skin painfully. 

Sakusa tuts, tone cold, and mocking. "Foul language for a boy, and an Inarizaki omega at that. Doesn't your kingdom teach omegas not to speak but to be seen? Or have you finally come to your senses and destroyed those old rules? I always said it would be your ruin."

He's right. They both know he's right. Atsumu had warned the King's council that Itachiyama would strike soon, and without warning at that. Yet the council had only nodded quickly and then gone on with the meeting like Atsumu hadn't spoken at all. Like he wasn't the Kingdom's best general. But Atsumu fucking hates Sakusa Kiyoomi so instead of answering, he sulks in his position against the horse. 

His blood is rushing to his head, quickly at that. He's starting to feel it pound in his ears and how dizzy he is. Another pair of hands ties up his wrists while he's distracted. There's no point in fighting. It's quite futile when he's surrounded by at least a dozen men and Sakusa Kiyoomi pressing him down. He'd only be wasting his energy and pissing Sakusa off. 

Sakusa pulls him up once the knot on his hands is tied tight, and pulls him into a position where he's sitting sideways in the saddle, pushed against Sakusa's broad chest. Exactly like an omega would ride. He knows it's on purpose, Sakusa, that bastard would take any opportunity to humiliate him. He refuses to look at him as he yells for the rest of his men to gather, except one man steps close and the brilliant gold of his eyes don't go unnoticed. His face is pinched, almost like he's unhappy to be here. He's tall, taller than Atsumu, and his blonde hair glints under a trickle of moonlight. Though he can't tell much in the dark, Sakusa barks something at him in his language and the man nods. Atsumu's shoved forward so that his legs are still hanging off the side of the horse but his chest is pushed against the rough, bristly mane of the horse. 

Atsumu shifts. It's an uncomfortable position, and he shouts when a blindfold is tied around his eyes. Without his senses, every feeling seems to be magnified as he can feel every little breeze and frigidness of the wind he grew up in. Something cold touches his back, and it slowly grows warmer and warmer until it becomes almost scorching on his lower back. 

"What the fuck are ya doing?!" Atsumu shrieks, panic coursing through his veins as the sensation begins to burn. "Get that off of me! Fuck, Sakusa, get that shit away from me you fucking bitch!" 

He hears another sigh. And something's tied around his mouth so that all his shouts come out muffled though he doesn't register it because the pain is becoming excruciating now. He can feel it deep in his bones like something is being carved into his back. 

And then just like that, it's gone. The sensation is removed entirely and so quickly that if not for the sweat and the shivering of his body he would have believed he imagined it. 

A hand traces over the place, and it feels raw and fresh. Atsumu hisses as a thumb digs in at the sensitive spot before rubbing it soothingly. He swears he can hear Sakusa sigh in approval before he's pulled back up. 

Sakusa doesn't wait to yell something at the rest of his soldiers, it's an order because the rest of his army responds with a short sentence and then they're off. Galloping through the forest. The wind bites at his nose and nips at his toes, even then Atsumu refuses to push himself any closer to Sakusa fucking Kiyoomi and because of the fucking gag tied around his mouth he can't even voice his complaints. 

It'll be a long ride till they reach Itachiyama's borders. Another day until they reach the castle if memory serves Atsumu right, Osamu had always been the better map maker. Something settles in his heart, bitter and cold, digging itself deep into the softest parts of Atsumu. He doesn't know what he'll do if Osamu is dead. He doesn't know what's gonna happen to himself either, if Itachiyama is leaving him alive then that means that there are only two ways to go from there. If he is not married to an Itachiyama noble as an omega bride, he'll be given to the King as a war prize, a trophy for the royal harem. 

Both ends seem worse than death. Atsumu had never been raised to embrace the softness of his sub gender, nor had he been taught how to behave like an omega. He had seen how omegas of the court had acted, and how they were treated by alphas and betas alike. The thought made him squirm, a heavy weight settling in the pit of his stomach. 

He could do it. He could marry and fuck some old man who would likely die before it was over. Atsumu let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in. The adrenaline of the night was starting to wear off, and the biting cold had begun to get to him. At this rate he'd die from chill before they reached Itachiyama, and fuck, Sakusa was just so warm he was practically burning. Begrudgingly he presses himself into the fur of Sakusa's armor, ignoring the slight movement and chuckle. He wouldn't do this willingly, Atsumu thinks justifyingly. He just needs to survive till he finds Osamu.

Chapter Text

Atsumu wakes up in a blanket of warmth. And the velvety feel of silk underneath him. There's the snap crackle of fire close by, and when he opens his eyes to fully take in his surroundings, Atsumu finds that he's been tucked under a pile of blankets.

It's swelteringly hot, and he seems to be alone when he glances around. A sheer, black canopy rests over the bed, covering all sides so that Atsumu has to squint to see through it. It's a beautiful room, it's spacious, with a giant mahogany desk in front of the window. Though the window is covered by dark red, thick curtains. There's a seal on the desk (the official Itachiyama one, Atsumu recognizes.) so he can assume they finally arrived in Itachiyama, sometime when he had been asleep, and if Atsumu had to guess whose room he was in based on the finery of the decorations he would most likely guess an Itachiyama noble.

Which can only mean one thing. He double-checks his surroundings again, just to make sure. He smiles in relief, at the very, VERY least, at least Sakusa isn't here. Atsumu's not sure what he would've done if he'd woken up to see Sakusa fucking Kiyoomi's face. He pushes himself up, cold air rushing to greet him. He's still clothed like he was during the invasion, luckily. Unluckily, that means his thin, white dress shirt won't do anything to stop the freeze of Itachiyama winters.

Atsumu hisses at the chill but keeps on wriggling himself out of the covers. He laments the loss of warmth (he had gotten used to Inarizaki's hot summers) but there are more pressing issues than some cold at hand. Pushing the canopy to the side, he glances at the giant wooden double doors that mark the only entrance and exit. Yelping when he makes contact with the cold, marble floor. It's so cold it's painful to his bare feet, and the slowly dying fire a few feet away from him seems to do nothing to stop it.

Atsumu bites his lip, he has an unknown but likely small time frame to possibly escape from this place. Any moment of hesitance opens another door for him to find himself executed, married off, or find Osamu's dead body. So he grits himself, lowering himself onto the marble floor but the moment he takes a step forward, something around his neck pulls him back so far he's thrown back onto the bed.

Waves of disgust roll down his body the moment he realizes what it is.

It's a collar.

It's a goddamn, fucking collar tied around his neck like a noose. It's connected to a chain tied around the headboard that rattles silently when he moves. Throughout his feeble attempt to escape, he hadn't noticed, which meant the collar was comfortable. Which meant that it was expensive. And if it was expensive, that meant his fate has already been decided and he was going to marry a noble. And if his fate was decided, that meant a claim had already been made. Which would mean his chances to escape from here on out would be a grand total of 0.

Fuck.

He yanks at the chain, but it does nothing, predictably. And the collar is too snug around his neck for him to even get a finger under like it'd been custom-made for him. It probably had been, nobles were always so possessive of omegas. Nevertheless, Atsumu continues to pull at the chain and claw the collar off of him. He's never been one to back down from a challenge, no matter how impossible.

"Awake I see."

Atsumu whirls around. Sakusa leans on the door frame, arms crossed. He's dressed simply, or at least simpler than he was when Atsumu had last seen him, now he's in a white button-down and black slacks.

"Fuck off," Atsumu growls. "Get this shit off me."

Sakusa tsks. "Not even a please?" He sighs and takes a step into the room. Bringing the door shut behind him. "Be glad I didn't muzzle or blindfold you, a collar is the least of your pains you ungrateful mutt."

"What the fuck did ya just call me?" Atsumu hisses. "Take that back you greasy weasel!"

A hand grabs Atsumu's face before he even acknowledges it, throwing him back onto a mattress that sinks under his weight and silk pillows. Sakusa's hand covers the lower half of his face, gloved fingers pressing his mouth closed.

"Remind yourself where you are," Sakusa warns. Though it's more of a threat than a warning (Atsumu can tell, after all, he's given just about as many thinly veiled threats as Sakusa has.) "And learn to keep your mouth shut. You wouldn't want to cause a scene at your wedding, would you?"

If Sakusa keeps talking, Atsumu's mind blanks out.

Anything after the words "wedding" is blurred out like radio silence. If Atsumu had any doubts before, he didn't have any now. His stomach sinks, if he is married off to an Itachiyama noble, would he be kept tied up and bred? He'd seen omegas married off to particularly traditional Inarizaki families. Where they were taught that their only role was to be seen, not heard.

And he's seen examples of Itachiyama omegas. Or rather, he hadn't seen them but heard about their traditions, because they had been kept in a room strictly meant for mating. Bred full and kept in chains for one purpose only. And the times they would be allowed to be free would be little to none, depending on the generosity of the alpha, and often only for royal events, and that had been it.

He shivers. It seems to satisfy Sakusa, in some sick, sadistic way because he lets go of Atsumu's face though the feeling of his gloves remains.

"It would do you well to sleep now, Miya," Sakusa announces as he steps away from the side of the bed. Checking the chain attached to the headboard to make sure it's secure and then fixing his black leather gloves around his wrist. "Be glad that you will be sleeping here, and not in the dungeons."

Atsumu bares his teeth but chooses to remain silent. Sakusa is right on that, no matter how infuriating he is. If he had to give up a bit of his pride for some form of luxury and comfort, he would gladly while Itachiyama felt so merciful. He slides back under the covers when Sakusa turns around, stepping into what Atsumu guesses is the bathroom from the sound of running water.

He'll be married soon. Alone, without his brother by his side, to an Alpha noble of the very same country Atsumu had fought against for the last four years of his life.

He presses his face into the pillow. He should try and enjoy his freedom and space while he can.

Chapter Text

Atsumu is fucking fuming.

When he wakes, he's alone. Good. He prefers it that way. But what is not good is the set of clothes laid out on an armchair next to the fire, there is no note when Atsumu walks over to peruse it warily. But the message is clear, wear this.

Atsumu IS petty enough to walk out in nothing but a shirt and briefs, but he knows that there will be Inarizaki soldiers in the castle. HIS and Osamu's men, ones that Atsumu has led through countless battles. He'd rather die than let them see him in such a state of undress in enemy territory.

So, he wears the clothes.

They are nice, Atsumu will admit. And the blaze of the fire nearby have kept them nice and warm for when Atsumu slides them on. The white button up is a little too big for him, and he has to roll up the sleeves to do anything with his hands. But the black slacks fit perfectly. It reminds him of what Sakusa had been wearing last night, except the last piece of clothing makes his stomach turn. It's a corset, dark red in color with ribbons laced up on the back. It's silky to the touch, and he can tell whatever wires are in this thing are expensive too just by feeling them. It only goes up to just under his chest, and ends at his waist.

It's beautiful and he can tell it's something only a noble could afford. How many people would kill for a treasure this fine? Such an exorbitant amount of money to flaunt.

What an Alpha thing to do.

Of course an Alpha would want to dress their omegas in such finery to peacock around, as if omegas are some fine treasure to be added to their hoard.

If he didn't wear it, if he stepped out of this room in just this white button up and black slacks— he would be bringing shame to whoever his future fiancé is, he will be offending whatever powerful noble is engaged to him, and he will be risking the lives of hundreds of Inarizaki innocents.

And Osamu.

He swallows his disgust. Tying the corset on is the challenge, it's not tight enough. Though it's the perfect size, it's hard to lace one up to the right amount of strength with not even a mirror guiding him and with no help.

"Need some help?"

Atsumu rolls his eyes, not needing to waste energy to turn when he knew exactly would be there.

"No actually," Atsumu says hotly. "I got it on myself."

A hand touches his waist, and because Atsumu made the wise decision to not turn around, it takes him by surprise and he doesn't have time to muffle the gasp that Sakusa surprises out of him.

"Let me help you," Sakusa mutters, close enough that Atsumu can feel his hot breath on his neck, "don't be stubborn. You don't want to make a fool out of yourself, do you?"

Atsumu grinds his teeth before he says something he really regrets. "Fine," he bites out. "Make it fuckin' fast."

Sakusa does not make it fast, in fact, he leads Atsumu into the spacious bathroom and positions him in front of the mirror before grabbing both lace ribbons from the corset.

"Stay still."

Atsumu wishes death on him.

He can feel Sakusa slowly unwinding the messy work Atsumu had done, he really wants to tell him to hurry the hell up, but he doesn't want to push his luck. He's still in enemy territory, staying silent is the best idea especially knowing he won't be put to death any time soon.

Sakusa's threading is much more neat, and tighter. He's focused on making it perfect, brows furrowed in concentration. There's two black moles above his right eye, it's the only flaw on Sakusa's otherwise flawless face. Thank god, Atsumu thinks, he doesn't know how angry he would be if Sakusa had a perfect face.

Suddenly Sakusa looks up and into the mirror, making eye contact with Atsumu who only narrows his eyes in return. Sakusa finishes it up with a tight bow, the corset is a lot more comfortable now that Atsumu doesn't feel like it'll fall every step he takes. He would rather be burned at the stake than admit that though, so he stays silent.

"A thank you would be polite, mutt," Sakusa murmurs, his hands rest on the curve of Atsumu's waist. He leans in closer, pressing soft lips against Atsumu's ear, "take a look at yourself."

Atsumu yanks away, heart beat quickening from such a close proximity. No one has been that close to him in years. Sakusa just grins, too much teeth and too little lip.

He doesn't want to listen to Sakusa, but he's just a bit curious of how the outfit looks all put together.

Atsumu's face is slightly red, but the tightness of the corset hugs his waist and the curve of his hips. Not enough though, it cannot accent what's not there Atsumu thinks bitterly. A decade of brutal military training has hardened his muscles and the slight fat omegas had around their chest. The corset does it's purpose, and nothing more.

It's a good color though, and the fabric truly is top-notch. Atsumu looks the most beautiful he has in years. He's still not petite enough, and too built to be considered beautiful. He briefly wonders if his Alpha will be disappointed. Atsumu glances over at Sakusa who is still lingering behind him, there's something in his dark eyes when they make eye contact through the mirror again.

Atsumu wonders if he's disappointed at what he's seeing.

Atsumu brushes it off, vanity is not something that can be afforded in the battle field. He's always wanted to be considered desirable, but when living in a constant state of loyalty, life, and death, his crumbling self esteem can be pushed to the back of his mind.

"Let us go," Sakusa smiles, though it doesn't reach his eyes. "The Emperor is dying to meet you."

—

Atsumu's not sure how old he expected the Emperor to be, but he certainly did not expect him to be this young.

He can't be more than 5 years older than Sakusa, the crown on his head is sparsely decorated, more of a crown of comfort than one that announces the royal status. He has black hair and stern eyes though there's a smile gracing his face. He doesn't look like an emperor that would kill thousands of Atsumu's people, but appearances are deceiving.

Atsumu doesn't bow until Sakusa practically bends him over by the waist, even then he doesn't utter out a greeting. This is not his Emperor, not as long as Prince Kita is alive. Something bitter sinks into his chest at the reminder, IF he is alive. Through all the chaos he hadn't been able to think about Prince Kita and Aran, far too concerned with his own livelihood and Osamu's.

"Don't force him, Kiyoomi," the Emperor says. Sakusa's mouth purses, but he nods in deference and lets go of Atsumu who sticks out his tongue at Sakusa. He isn't child-like, he just knows it'll piss Sakusa off.

"General Atsumu of Inarizaki," the Emperor greets. "It is good to meet you off the battlefield for once."

Atsumu looks away, choosing to remain silent despite the touch of Sakusa's hand on his waist. It's a silent but sure warning to behave.

"I understand you do not wish to talk to me, but I have someone who wants to see you." Atsumu looks up with curiosity before he can stop himself. The Emperor grins, it's not unkind but expectant like he had known Atsumu would look up. Fuck.

"Bokuto," he gestures to the guard standing in the door way. The guard, Bokuto, nods, opening the door and disappearing through it. "He will be here soon, General. I am sure you won't be disappointed." The promise makes Atsumu’s lips twist into a wry smile, he wants to snort and ask what makes the Emperor think he knows him so well. The grip on his waist tightens, like he knows what Atsumu is plotting to do, Atsumu resists the urge.

“Good choice,” Sakusa mutters in his ear. Atsumu flushes against his own will, and Sakusa laughs quietly.

The door opens, and this time Bokuto enters with a grand sweep and following behind him is Aran and Kita.

Kita smiles at him. “Atsumu.”