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libertyybellls · 9 months

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BELIEVE ME NOW ?

pairing; mentor!finnick odair x reader

summary: finnick odair, to love you- to protect you, battles it out with tough love that you can’t quite see.

contains; ENEMIES TO LOVERS, fluff/tad bit of angst, finnick nearly breaking readers door down, ONE singular kiss is shared 😇, unspoken feelings, death/typical hunger games violence, comfort.

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

you didn’t know why you hated finnick odair, but you know when it started. you knew it the minute he was assigned you mentor, the minute he put on an act and thought of himself to be better than you, and the second that he wouldn’t give you any reasonable advice before your games.

it was only when you’d won your games, did finnick finally feel for you, it ate him up inside- guilt, fear, shame, it all sickened him.

he sought death in his games, not of the other kids- but himself. but when you’re forced into that arena- when someone stronger, faster, smarter than you starts running towards you- desperate to hear that cannon sound, you fight. and he hated everything about how he fought- only to end up a possession to the republic, a slave to his own mind.

so when he saw you, wide eyed- sitting on that train- scared, unsuspecting, unprepared- he saw himself. he saw that fourteen year old boy stripped from his home, to end the game with blood on his hands.

you were older than he was then, but it didn’t matter if he was nineteen, thirty, even eighty- he’d give anything to have been lucky enough to die in that arena.

you’d arrived from your games a few days ago, only having seen mags. mags who had helped you before your games, signing to you how to find food and water, how to not get sick or hypothermic, die of heatstroke. mags, who brushed your hair after your first shower when all you wanted to do was curl in a ball and disappear, who sent you off to rest knowing if she hadn’t given you medicine you’d stay up- stuck in your head.

being in that hotel after your games was like a ghost town. all the other mentors and stylist sent home- only your own had been there. all the other kids were gone- quite frankly dead. the room next to yours vacant- your district partner, a boy you’d gotten to know quite well- someone you’d even call a friend, dead. just you left.

you’d just finished your interview, faking a smile, plastering on a look of faux happiness- preaching about how grateful you were to have made it out. dressed so extravagantly, so see-through, so indecent, your makeup so dissimilar to you- you couldn’t even recognize yourself.

you’d been rushing back to your room- rushing to hide away until you’d once more get back on the train and give a ‘victory’ tour.

finnick had been waiting for you, he had so many things he needed to say, to tell you- no, warn you about.

but as you strided towards him from the elevator, and let out a sharp; “what? here to take the credit from all the advice you gave me?” and slammed your door without batting an eye- the words were lost in his throat.

he started with knocking, simply calling your name, “can i please just speak to you?” then the knocks got harder, less distance in time between each one, then he was pounded on the white door incessantly. “y/n, open this door.”

your head was pounding, and you could care less for what glorious speech he was going to spew at you, “i don’t want your fucking pity story, finnick.” you tell back from the other side of the door- at this he pushes, and pushes the door until the lock gives.

when he sees you, your sitting on the edge of your bed- your heads in your hands, the lamp beside you is dim.

“what? what’s so important you had to force yourself into my room? do you think anything you say is going to change how you left me? you left me to die.” you were glaring at him. with so much hate behind your eyes he couldn’t take it anymore.

you thought you’d been nothing but kind to him, respectful, even after he’d won his games you still treated him normally once he’d gone back to district four- worst of all, you thought you deserved some type of help from him. but all you ended up being was dirt on his shoe?

“i was trying to protect you-“

you laugh incredulously at this, “trying to protect me? no, finnick. you wanted to protect malik-“ you waved your hand in the direction of the very empty, lifeless room of your district partner, “and look where your ‘help’ got him.”

“i mean, you made no effort to do so much as look my way, and now you want to talk? you’re of no use to me now. i already got through the worst of it- without you.” you continued rambling as you took of your necklace, your rings, your bracelets.

“trust me y/n you’ll realize victory isn’t the better option. so if you’d just fucking-“ he sighed, running his hand over his face and looking down. “if you’d just listen to me- you’ll see i’m trying to be your friend- to help you for what’s coming next.��

there’s a few beats of silence as he waits for your response, it’s deafening- you’ve completely paused in your action of taking out your earrings. “my friend?” you laugh, hair falling over your shoulders. “i don’t really like you, finnick.”

this perplexes finnick, shaking his head. “and i don’t really believe you, y/n.” he takes a step closer, breaking your imaginary bubble. “you know you were the only person who didn’t hover around me in our town after my games? the only person who never looked up to me? like i was this spectacle? waiting to see my next move?”

you take one step closer to him now, you can smell him- it’s of salt air and expensive cologne- and it’s unbearable. there’s heat emitting from his body.

“that’s called caring, finnick.” you look into his eyes now, for the first time. “and i’d only wish you’d have that same respect for me.”

there’s something he can’t understand about you, you’re constantly trying to fight back- you won’t admit defeat or accept help- just continuing your fight for survival. but he prays you know you don’t have to fight him, he only wants to help you.

“why do you think i’m here?” his eyes are pulling you in, his smell is suffocating you. it’s all a paradox. “you think im here to torment you further, y/n?”

truth be told, you don’t know why he’s here. you don’t know why he’s caring so much. but you’re here, standing inches away from him in your hotel room and admiring him- for reasons you can’t quite explain.

“snows going to do everything he can to make you feel small. he’s going to make you the capitols dream girl. he’s going to objectify you, and show you off like you’re a prize.” he takes a breath, you’re driven to further confusion- why does it look like this is hurting him too? “and you can’t fight it, because it will only have him sway more control over you. only more pain for you. and i won’t have that y/n.”

finnicks closer to you now, “i won’t-i cant have him take more of you.” from me, he wants to say, he wants to tell you that all he’s tried to do from the moment he met you as a boy, is protect you.

there it is again, that glint in his eyes- the utter, pure concern and passion, and you can’t take it. “don’t do that. don’t look at me like you care about me.”

finnicks face is not even an inch away from yours now, you can see the birthmarks on his neck- the freckles the sun has blessed him with that are so faint you wouldn’t have seen them before.

“i do.” he says like it’s the last words he’ll ever say. the air has left both of your lungs.

you keep this eye contact with him, like he can see your heart, and like you’re trying to read his mind. “i don’t believe you.” you mock his words from earlier.

he angles his head at these words, moving closer so your lips are touching-and your eyes flutter shut- but he hasn’t kissed you, not yet.

“i want to protect you until i can’t anymore. until im gone.” he doesn’t let you speak now, his lips stealing your words when they crash into yours. the movement is natural, fluid, soft.

he expects you to pull away, shove him off of you, tell him that you hate him- but you deepen the kiss much to his surprise.

you kiss him, pull him impossibly close to you until you can’t anymore- until your lungs now beg for oxygen- but all you want to do is breath him in. you pull away, and your eyes open, nearly in shock, but more in amusement.

“believe me now?”

masterlist

#finnick angst #finnick fanfic #finnick fluff #finnick imagine #finnick odair #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair smut #finnick odair x reader #finnick oneshot #finnick smut

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themusingsofacurlyhairednerd · 3 months

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In Love and War

Summary: A warlord!Rhys x Tamlin's sister!Reader AU where Hybern won the War centuries ago, ravishing Prythian and leaving the splintered Courts as nothing more than pockets of travelling war bands. Based loosely on the vibes from War by Laura Thalassa.

Content Warnings: (Each chapter will be tagged accordingly for violence, drinking, and Eventual smut) Canon typical violence, Rhys leans heavily into morally gray, kidnapping.

Author's Note: Trying something new with a first person POV, let me know what you think :)

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“Don’t come back unless you’ve brought food.”

It’s been days since that order, the rumble of my stomach the only indicator of passing time. The changing forests, the dying grasslands, the marshes, it’s all been a disappointing blur. All my traps are empty and untouched, some frozen in place as winter approaches. My father used to tell me stories of the Courts, how they were ruled by High Lords with the power to keep perpetual seasons. That was before the War, before Hybern and his General Amarantha ruined everything with the Cauldron, all for some human slaves. Father had liked to talk about the “good ole days” every night around the fire; he could spin pretty tales for hours, but that’s all they are these days. Stories. And stories don’t keep your stomach full.

I trail the deer through a stinking muck of a bog, mud and slimy water seeping in through the holes in my boots. The sludge is bone chilling, my hands shaking around my bow; teeth chattering so loud I have to clamp my mouth shut to avoid making too much noise. I need this kill and I need it fast.

The deer stops to eat a bit of moss and I take a few more careful steps forward to get a better vantage point, cautious of where the ground sinks deeper beneath the murky water. Slipping and twisting an ankle in this mud would be dangerous, but it’s not an injury that makes my steps cautious. There are plenty of kelpie around these parts, I feel their beady little eyes watching me under the cover of a quickly approaching fog. All I need is one misstep and those spindly, webbed hands will drag me under for a quick meal.

Better a kelpie than the Highway Men I’d managed to dodge getting this far out of my brother’s territory, I suppose, but I’d rather avoid both of them if possible.

Once I’m sure of my footing, I notch an arrow to my bow. This is not the ideal place to kill it, but the rumbling of my stomach might just be too damn loud to give me another chance if I wait for it to pass out of the bog. How many days has it been since my last meal? Four? Five?

I pull the arrow back, the weathered feathers brushing my hollow cheek.

The deer’s head jerks up, ears turning to listen to something beyond the fog and I hold my breath. The ground beneath my boots begins to rumble and the deer bolts before I can take the shot, disappearing into the gloom. A loss to mourn later, because that rumbling can only mean one thing: Horses, and a lot of them, moving right in my direction.

I slide my bow over my shoulder and run back the way I’d come, mud sucking at my every step, slowing my progress as I try to get back to the treeline at the edge of the bog. The wet land is covered in dead and living trees alike, some as old as time, still reaching towards the sun like the ruined hands of a corpse, some fighting its inevitable demise. It’s too cold these days for the living to still have leaves, so even if I wanted to stop and climb one, I’d have no place to hide. I might as well stand there and wave my arms and alert every horseman to my location.

Still, the branches are helpful for leverage, and I grab onto the low ones and haul myself along, hoping to find shelter higher up the basin’s edge, where the water has not claimed as much. There’s plenty of underbrush there to shield me.

The first horse appears through the fog, dark as a shadow, it’s echoing whinny chilling in the previous silence. A hooded rider sits atop the giant animal, a giant sword sheathed between his massive shoulders.

“Shit, shit, shit,” I hiss to no one as I crouch the best I can in the open air.

There are many warbands in Prythian these days. Some are Hybern’s men. Some Amarantha’s. The rest are what remains of the Courts. Those of us with enough magic to prove useful have been known to swear fealty and garner protection from them, but that means you get the privilege of fighting and dying for those entitled pricks who think they are owed the land their ancestors once ruled. From this far, I can’t tell who’s colors they bear, but without the, usually oppressive presence, of my brother’s own men I’m not likely to have a safe encounter. Better to wait it out and let them pass.

The first rider doesn’t see me through the fog, a small blessing that I take full advantage of by inching forward. The treeline is so close. If I am lucky, if the Mother is still out there listening and looking out for me, I can hunker down and wait.

A second rider appears through the fog, faster than the first, racing along the bog’s edge until it makes it over the ledge of the basin and disappears. The cry of their horses sound like ghosts howling in the wind. A third and fourth rider follow. I can hear even more of them, the rumble of their caravan making the ground shake, but no more appear as the fog thickens.

A shiver runs down my spine, but still, I press forward. I’ve dodged plenty of males like this in the past, I can do the same now. I just need to be smart. And lucky.

Neither of which I am, apparently. As soon as my boots touch more solid ground, another horse appears, this time, from within the safety of the treeline I’d been so desperate to get to. The rider atop this one is as large as the first, face completely obscured by a black hood with three stars perfectly poised over his forehead, the bottom two falling where his eyes should be.

I freeze, mind reeling back to a time years ago, when those stars had come bursting through camp, only bloodshed and destruction behind them. My hands shake at my sides as I slide backwards into the muck, slipping, barely maintaining my balance as the midnight black horse rears, hooves pawing at the air. I’d heard that terrifying whiny before too, right before my father’s head rolled out of his tent.

My stomach rolls, bile rising in the back of my throat. This can’t be happening to me! They promised to stay away.

The rider gets his horse under control, large, gloved hands yanking hard on the reins, deep voice barking orders in the language I know belongs to the mountain men in Illyria, but had never been permitted to learn myself.

My heart hammers in my chest as I get back on my feet, head whipping back and forth trying to find a way out.

“What’s your business here?” The rider demands, voice deep, gruff, muffled by a scarf over the lower half of his face.

“My own,” I snarl, reaching for the hunting knife at my hip. This is no one’s claimed territory, save for maybe the kelpie I hear skimming the surface at my back, I have every right to hunt here as anyone. “Now let me pass and I’ll be on my way.”

The rider swings out of the saddle and the ground shakes as his boots touch the ground. A dark mist leaks from his shoulders, shadows swirling around the sword hilt peeking out from between his shoulders and… I’d been mistaken about his size, it wasn’t just his shoulders, it was a pair of wings. Wings that had been tucked tight while he was riding but now stretch out behind him, the leathery membrane pitted and scarred from years of battle. If I’d had doubts about who this was before, I don't now. Though I’d only seen him in glimpses that night, Tamlin had talked enough about the rival warlord over the years for me to be able to put two and two together.

A lump forms in my throat. Rhysand is even taller up close, the top of my head barely coming up to his chin. “I have nothing of value.” I’m not wearing our colors, I’m not sure if they would have helped or hindered me here, but my best bet is to just play dumb.

From the incline of his head it looks like he’s eyeing my knife, but I can’t be certain. There is some kind of enchantment over his hood, obscuring his face from view. “What’s your name?”

“No business of yours,” I retort, tightening my grip on the knife.

“So hostile,” he purrs. “I mean no harm.”

“Says the male with the sword.”

“If I wanted to hurt you, I would have.”

“I’m flattered,” I drawl. “How kind of you to deem me worth a modicum of decency as you block my exit.”

He takes a step forward and I take a step back, right to the edge of the water, where that damn creature hisses out a chuckle, knife poised and ready between us. He’s not wearing armor, a well placed blow could still kill him, I want him to think twice before moving any closer. Though, I suppose I must not look that imposing, considering our size difference and the sheer amount of muscle underneath that dark cloak.

He sizes me up silently for a moment, hooded head intently fixed on the hand gripping the knife. Then, with speed enhanced even for High Fae, he’s reaching forward and grabbing my wrist as I stumble back and slam right into a tree.

It’s instinct: The punch I throw with my free hand, hitting him square in the throat, even as my heel comes down on the top of his foot. He grunts like it hurts, but doesn’t move, doesn’t let up on the grip he keeps on my wrist.

“Where’d you get this scar?” He drags a finger over the top of my hand, where I’ve got a scar shaped like an eight point star.

“Get off me!” I shout as I try to wrench my hand free of his grip.

If his men hear, they don’t come running. There is no one here to save me--not that there has been anyone to save me in a long time anyway.

He’s wearing gloves, but with the hand not maintaining a vice on my wrist, he pushes the leather back enough to reveal a matching scar on the back of his own hand.

All thought eddies from my mind.

This can’t be real.

He takes the knife from my hand as if it was being held by a toddler, but much to my surprise, he slides it right back into its sheath at my hip. The move lets him lean in, large body hovering over mine. I still can’t see a glimpse of his face beneath the hood.

“You’re my mate,” he says, voice a reverent whisper.

Mate. My heart hammers in my chest at the word, as if something beneath my skin is coming to life at the realization. The power that lies distant and untouched with me stirs, a large beast poking its head out of the den after a long hibernation. Having a mate is most women's dream--was my own, once upon a time, before the world went to hell--but not like this, not him. My world had gone to hell because of him.

The Mother truly hates my guts.

“I’m not your anything,” I snarl as I get a hand on his broad chest and push. He’s nothing but solid muscle beneath my palm. When pushing gets me nowhere, I make a fist and hit him a good couple times. “Now let go of me, you brute!”

He chuckles, low and rich, as if this is all very amusing. “No. It’s not safe out here. You’re coming with me.”

I’d rather be eaten by the kelpie. “The hell I am!” But before I can find a way to fight him, as useless as my attempts have been thus far, he wraps a strong arm around my waist and all but tosses me into the saddle.

I reach for my hunting knife again, but a gloved hand hovers over my own, even as his other arm snakes around me to grab the reins. “Easy, mate,” he purrs in my ear. “You don’t need to be afraid of me.”

Despite myself, that voice, so close to my ear, his body warm and solid behind me, a shiver runs down my spine. “You’re fucking kidnapping me, you bastard!” I snarl, because there’s no way I’m just going along with this. “And I’m not your mate! I don’t even believe in mates.”

“You will,” he assures as he kicks his horse into moving back into the fog.

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hikarimiyanaga · 2 months

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Her biggest regret

Warnings : Cheating. Angst.

A one-shot I needed to get out of myself as I try to navigate my life-work-games balance. Lmao. Chapter 4 of the Queen's Bride should be released within the month.

You freeze as you see them kiss. The wind in your lungs taken away by the sight.

You knew it.

You knew from the way she looked at him. From the way she spoke of him. The way she touched his arm.

Because all the things she did to him were once yours.

She used to look at you like you make the sun go up.

She used to speak like you were the only thing that mattered besides her children.

She used to touch you every night and revere you.

You let out a strangled noise and they both look at you.

You step inside and get your bracelet. What once held her promise of forever. But now it just burned you. Burned your heart.

"I'm giving this back." You say as you take it off your wrist and you see pain cross her eyes. "My apologies on disturbing you, Your grace." You quickly slip away after that. You run and run as you get to your tent. So much so that you don't hear her call your name. You don't hear her reject Jon's touch as she watched you run. You don't hear her anguish scream as she held the bracelet that once promised what you wanted.

You spent your days training. This was your life. This should just be it. You shouldn't have fallen for her. For the queen that you served. But here you are anyways.

You pant as Grey Worm looks at something behind you with silent anger in his eyes. He's always been a big brother to you. Always there and always guiding. There was a reason you are the only woman in the unsullied. Too strong to become a slave so you became a soldier instead.

You don't dare look behind for you knew whom his silent anger is for. You can feel it though. Her burning stare. You cover his eyes.

"Stop looking at her like that. You won't be marching in front if everyone thinks you want to kill her." You whisper then drink water.

"But she-"

"No buts, Grey Worm. She's still our queen." You can see the defeat in his eyes. The gratitude winning over the want to protect you.

"Go run. So she can't see you. That is the one thing I will refuse her of." You chuckle at the vindication in his voice.

"Thank you." You say then you slip away from his presence.

You've been avoiding her.

Daenerys could tell. What once was your spot was always given to different people each day.

What once was your voice greeting her as she checked on her army was always replaced with Grey Worm's.

And she knew of it. But there was nothing she can do. She betrayed you. She didn't keep her promise.

She stared at the bracelet she gave you. The one you gave back to her.

She can still see it, the pain in your eyes. The unshed tears as you took it off. The way you always ran away from her whenever she wanted to find you.

She can't help the sob that escaped her as she held it.

She wished she could take it back.

She wished she never felt attracted to him. Because that once fleeting attraction only made it worse when she saw the hurt in your eyes.

"Your grace." Jon calls out as he slips inside her office. The one thing that you always did whenever it was this time of the day. She longed to see you do it again. To come get her whenever it got too late. To bring her food once you knew that she skipped dinner in order to work more.

"You should eat, your grace." Jon further opens the door and she sees the servants he brought with him.

"Do not let them in." She says and the dothraki who was stationed to her quickly made a cross with their spears as to not let the servants in. And she marveled at how you always did that even if she never said it. How you were so attuned to what she wanted that even if she never voices them out, you always just know and you always do it. "Lord Commander. This is my office. No servant is allowed to enter here even if you came with good intentions."

"My apologies. Then I can-"

"No. I will get out of here myself. I do not trust your servants to not poison me." And it seemed paranoid but she had too many assassination attempts made by so-called servants to not consider such thing.

"My apologies again. Then I will leave you to it." She watches as the dothraki close the door and go back to their original position.

'What a stark difference.' She thinks to herself. 'She never once did that. Not even made others help her when she always brought me food.' And she also remembered the bandages on your hands as you held the food. And the confession from Grey Worm that you learned how to cook just so you can give her food when she overworked herself.

"I'm such an idiot." She cried once again as she gently held the bracelet.

It was a silent night, you realize as you got stationed in front of her chambers. Grey Worm figured that it's been two months since then and you also insisted on the position. Besides, you were only here as she slept, so you figured that you won't even see her.

"Y/N." You flinch as you hear Missandei.

"My lady." You call out and she slaps your arm.

"I thought I told you to stop calling me that already."

"You did but-"

"No buts." You groan as you silently curse your brother. What a loudmouth.

"My apologies then. Missandei." She grins then takes your arm.

"Come."

"What! But my station."

"I can cover, Y/N." You glare at your comrade as Missandei pulls you to another room.

"Grey Worm might be my brother but he can get jealous too, you know?" You speak as Missandei stripped you of your uniform.

"Shut it." You chuckle as she gets annoyed.

"What are you trying-" You stop as she shoves some clothes onto you.

"Wear those."

"What-"

"Wear them." That was the final thing she says as she slips out of the room.

You look at the trousers and pants. It was a fancy version of what you usually wore.

'What could it be for?' You think but you wear them anyways. You know how Missandei can be if she isn't obeyed. Besides, you just know that Grey Worm will give you spartan training if you even thought about disobeying your essentially sister-in-law.

You arrive at her office and look at the basket and jar of wine in your hands.

Apparently, Daenerys have been missing all her meals for the past few days. Only opting for the bread to munch on as she toured and saw progress in her plans.

"She's punishing herself." Missandei says to you as she drags you. "Her guard always say that she cries at least once while she held your bracelet."

"It's not my bracelet anymore." You say with such pain in your voice that Missandei hugs you.

"It's yours. Even if you don't want it to be anymore." You sob into her shoulder as she comforts you. It's been months but you still haven't moved on. You never will, you knew that. Your fragile and broken heart will always be hers even if her heart wasn't yours anymore. "Just bring dinner to her, please. How will any of us see her ascend to her throne if she starves herself in the process?"

And so here you are. A bundle of nerves, just anxious.

"Get in, give her food then get out. Easy enough, right? It should be! Damn it!"

"Just get in." You look at Tyrion and frown.

"Even you?"

"I know what she did is unforgivable but you should-"

"I know what lies beyond. I know their atrocities." You say in resolution and open the door. The two dothrakis on her station sees you and slips out of the office as Daenerys continues working.

"Missandei? Can you just give me a glass of wine? One that can fi-"

"You should eat properly." You speak and you see as her hand stops writing. As she slowly looks at you. You smile sadly at her as you walk up to her desk. "Here." You clear her desk of her documents, bringing them over to the table in her office then bring out the contents of your basket. The ones you cooked with your own hands. She silently watches as you do all these. You don't forget to give her a glass of wine then smile at her. "Eat."

She looks at the food and wine then she tears up. Gods, how she missed this. How she missed you.

"Is this a dream?" You can hear the yearning in her voice for this to be her reality. And you know it is, the hurt and pain in your heart right now is the proof.

"It's not." You say as you pour yourself a glass of wine. You never liked the thing, always sobering through celebrations and such. And so, dream you will never drink this, you and her know that so you drink the glass in one go. You grunt as you put the glass down. You never liked it's effects before until now. The alcohol in you seemingly giving you courage to face her. "It really isn't. So eat, please." Daenerys nods and begins to help herself to the food. She watches as you pour yourself another glass.

"Do you-" She tries to stop you but you didn't want to remember this night. You didn't want this pain anymore.

You were drunk by the time Daenerys finishes her food. The entire jug of wine was almost emptied by you if she didn't stop you by your sixth glass.

"You know." You begin as you felt yourself get dizzy. "I knew there was a reason why I don't like wine. My self-control is slipping out of me. I can feel it." You giggle and laugh.

"Y/N-"

"And you! The love of my life!" You smile as you look at her and Daenerys felt like she travelled to the past where you looked at her like she was a goddess walking on the ground.

"Such a tragedy. I knew you would find someone better. I knew it in my head but I just- I still gambled my heart." You sigh wistfully as the pain squeezed her heart. "And I never got it back." She stares at you as you walk to her.

"Tell me, your grace." She felt another squeeze at the unfamiliar address. You stopped calling her that when the two of you made love for the first time.

"Was it fun?" She froze at that. "Was it good when you kissed him? Or when you fucked him?" You refuse to believe that any sane man would be able to resist her charm. Hell, even you couldn't resist it.

"Did it feel good when you broke my heart?" You couldn't stop the tears now as they flowed freely onto her lap. She looks as you give her a defeated smile. The same one she always sees when you decide to sacrifice yourself for a comrade, but this time, combined with your tears, was more painful than every other defeated smile you ever gave. Because after those defeated smiles. After the battle is over, you always walk over to her and give her the brightest grin and the most gentle kiss. But now, she knows she won't have that anymore. "Did you laugh when you heard it shatter? Was it- was it worth it?" You sob as you kneel. You can't think anymore. If you were sober, none of this would be spoken to her. None of this would ever known to anyone. You are an unsullied. Bottling your feelings and not showing any emotions was what you were trained for. But alcohol brought everything out. Your every self-deprecating thought, every pain and every sorrow. Because as much as you were known for your smile, no one knows how you looked when you are in grief. No one until Daenerys came. She can only watch as you sobbed until you fall asleep. She can only shed silent tears as she whispered her apologies to you.

You wake with a massive headache. One that makes you groan as you sit on the familiar yet unfamiliar bed. You haven't been here in a while.

"Fuck. I'm never drinking alcohol again." You grunt as the pain hits you again.

"That would be for the best." You freeze as you hear her voice. You hear her shuffle around then a cup appears in your vision. "Drink up. The maester said this would help with the pain." You shakily accepts the cup and drink it one go. The pain now concentrated at your tounge as the hot tea travels through your body. You look at her face and you can't help but voice out the first word that gets in your head.

"Dilaw." Daenerys tilts her head and you blush as you facepalm for yourself.

"Di- what?" She asks and you cover your face.

"Literally, it means yellow. But another meaning means happiness. Or source of it." Daenerys blushes as she hears your explanation. In any other day, you would grin then kiss and hug her but instead pain grips your heart instead. "I should go." You stand and avoid touching her. "Thank you for letting me sleep here. Farewell, your grace." Daenerys stops you before you can even open the door.

"I'm sorry." She says as tears flow through her face. "I'm so sorry. I took you for granted. I took everything we ever had for granted. But please, Y/N. Please give me another chance. Give me the chance to make everything right. Give me the chance to pick up your heart's broken pieces. Give me the chance to make it whole again."

"Your grace." The title makes her grip tighter on your wrist. "I have no more right. No more fight. And no more courage in me. You have taken all of those away." You shake as you finally let everything out. "You have always owned the heart you broke with your own hands. I never got it back."

"Then let me earn your trust again. Let me by your side again. I'm begging you, Y/N. Without you, everything feels wrong. Everything I'm fighting for felt empty. Every promise and plans I make felt futile."

"I can't. Not yet, at least. Please give me more time. More moments to myself. Then maybe, I can ease myself into your side again."

"Then I'll wait for that day." She finally lets go and you look at her. Look at her tear-stricken and wipe her tears away.

"Thank you, Dany." The familiar address gives her hope in her heart even as you slip away from her room.

You don't run anymore. You walk as you go outside the castle.

You knew that eventually, the inevitable will happen. That you will be hers again. Because your heart that you always protected was now guarded and owned by a dragon.

PS.

I will hit myself if I don't get chapter 4 out. I swear.

I need more hours in the day, to be honest. I hate working 9 am to 6 pm 😭😭.

#daenerys targaryen x reader #game of thrones x reader #daenerys stormborn #daenerys targaryen

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wheeboo · 1 year

Text

insomniac | lee jihoon

SYNOPSIS. in which jihoon has trouble falling asleep. PAIRING. lee jihoon x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationship WARNINGS. mentions of insomnia WORD COUNT. 1.2k

notes: just a random jihoon comfort drabble because he works so hard for us and deserves everything in the world <3

Jihoon can’t fall asleep.

It was nothing out of the ordinary for him, as he finds his days filled with exhausting schedules that easily wears him out, yet he spends his nights specifically to produce new music for the group. But as the rest of the world around him settled into deep slumber, Jihoon remained wide awake in those ungodly hours, fueled by nothing but the intensity of his creative passion.

He couldn’t tell if there was any reasoning behind it𑁋if there was a reason why his brain is so full of ideas that it can’t seem to just shut up and be quiet for once, so he feels the need to put it all down first until the wee hours of the night before having to force himself to sleep, which in itself doesn’t really do his body well.

The cycle had started over a month ago𑁋that’s what he told you at least𑁋but time seemed to lose all meaning when he was in the zone. The days blurred together, punctuated only by the occasional meeting or performance. Jihoon couldn't remember the last time he had a good night's rest. His mind resembled a galaxy of inspiration, and he was just a mere person trying to capture its brilliance in sound.

Jihoon finds himself staring at his computer in front of him, eyes dry and a bit heavy, yet his mind is completely awake. It’s around three in the morning and he’s probably gotten up once or twice in the last few hours. He knows himself that whatever he was doing was unhealthy; you nagged him about it just an hour ago, and now you were coming over.

His phone vibrates and he takes it in his hands, reading through your short text.

[my y/n 🤍] can you let me inside?

Jihoon’s heart twinges with guilt as he reads your message. He knows he should have listened to you and taken better care of himself, but the allure of his music and the pressure of his work had consumed him. He had become a slave to his insomnia, unable to break free from its grasp.

[my jihoon ❤️] door is unlocked. be careful

The moment he sends the text he hears some footsteps outside his door. He stands up from his chair, releasing a groan from the slight ache in his step, and heads his way to greet you.

Immediately once he opens the door, he frowns at how disheveled and tired you look when taking off your shoes, knowing that you made the effort to come to his studio for him. You carried a bag from what he presumes is food from the convenience store at your side. Gosh, what time did he last eat?

“You didn’t have to come here, Y/N.” Jihoon reaches a hand out to help steady you as you chuck your shoes off to the side.

“I had to, honey.” The term of endearment sends something through his heart. “I can’t stop thinking about you continuously pushing yourself these days. I miss having you at home.”

Before he could respond, you take his hand in yours and lead him to the couch, placing down the plastic bag on the table. Jihoon helps you unpack the contents inside. It was just two bowls of ramen and a pack of microwaveable rice.

“Here, I’ll warm this up for us. Just wait on the couch.” Jihoon takes lead and grabs the two bowls of ramen and rice, bringing it to the little kitchen area to the side and filling the bowls up with preprepared hot water.

You find yourself sprawled on top of the couch, watching your boyfriend quietly hum his way through the studio. Even though you were tired yourself, you made an objective to not fall asleep right on the spot. You wanted him to be with you. You wanted him to try and fall asleep with you, and maybe just maybe help him get some decent sleep even for one night.

And if you had to keep showing up to his studio to coax him out of work, then that’s what you were going to do. Nothing was going to stop you.

Once Jihoon finishes warming up the rice and letting the ramen cool down, he brings the food back to where you are and sits himself down on the couch right next to you.

The two of you eat in comfortable silence, though there was a bit of lingering tension in the air knowing that the elephant in the room had to be addressed at some point. For now you both just cherish the time together since a lot of Jihoon’s work had interfered the two of you from fbeing able to spend time with each other.

Once you finish eating, you glance over at him, pushing back some of his dark loose strands in his face behind his ear so that you could see his side-profile better. You see his lips curve up in small appreciation, but he can’t seem to get himself to make eye contact with you. The guilt coursing through him felt as if he was a bit more distant than usual.

“You know you deserve a break sometimes, right?” You ask him, watching him take in your words so heavily that it makes him momentarily pause.

Jihoon nods his head, a small sigh leaving his lips. “I know. But ever since we discussed our comeback preparations, I... I can’t help myself, you know? I need to make everything perfect.”

You listen to him carefully, taking in his words like the gentle melody he has the art in making. Jihoon had always been aware of the immense pressure on his shoulder over the years and it just now began to take an obvious toll on his health both mentally and physically.

“I just can’t rest knowing I have all these ideas, all these words for lyrics...” Jihoon scrunches his face up together, exhaling a deep breath. “But I do wish I can just sleep and rest.”

That’s when your face lights up just a bit. “That’s why I’m here. You’re going to take a rest with me, whether you like it or not.”

Jihoon peers at you as if you were crazy. “Y/N𑁋”

“Jihoon, honey, please rest with me. One night is all I ask for,” You practically beg him. “At least lay here with me until morning. I know your work is important to you, but... I miss you. I miss holding you and when you hold me.”

You stare at him with pleading eyes and Jihoon can never get himself to resist you. Though he has a lot of trouble expressing how he feels, he can never deny just how vulnerable and sensitive you make him sometimes. You always found the smallest ways to take care of him, even if it meant sacrificing yourself in a way. He’s always been grateful for that, and he knows that someday he will repay you. He has to.

Jihoon glances between you and his open computer in the background, finally letting his shoulders relax.

“Okay.” He stands up, motioning to his computer. “Let me just turn all this off and then I can hold you.”

You shake your head amusedly. “I’d rather hold you this time if that’s okay with you.”

Jihoon feels a smile creep on his face as he walks to turn off his computer and soundboard. He’s not against that idea either.

#seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #woozi fluff #lee jihoon fluff #woozi angst #lee jihoon angst #woozi x reader #jihoon x reader #lee jihoon x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen #svt x reader #woozi imagines #svt fluff

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triluvial · 5 months

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Imagine being a freman captured by feyd and just as you’re on the cusp of stockholm syndrome he spits on you. To him he’s just degrading you but you see it as an honor he’s giving you his water…

oh I love this. I feel like to fall into this the Reader has to be primed for it.

Like the Fremen seem to live in fairly small groups (aside from the deep south) so if Reader came from a bigger family then their romantic options may be severely limited. Reader, feeling lonely and longing to leave their small settlement just to find romance would be a great start for this AU.

Then when Feyd captures her, she knows he's probably going to be tortured and killed or turned into a slave. She may have read books and heard stories of dark lovers being soft for their one true love but she's not an idiot, she's under no illusions this will happen to her.

But then the first few weeks pass and Reader is unharmed. She's not tortured or raped and doesn't even see the face of any person other than Feyd.

Feyd is likely thinking he'll keep Reader like an exotic pet - the last of her kind once he razes Arrakis to dust - as he torments her with news of Fremen death. (Paul's rebellion is taking way longer ig)

Unintentionally, he's training Reader bit by bit to be totally dependant on him. He brings her food and water when he visits every second day so the relief of hunger and thirst becomes inescapably entwined with Feyd's presence. As he is literally the only other person she sees, he becomes the only thing she can think about, the only thing she ever dreams about.

This is when the spitting scene occurs. It's a declaration of love. Reader's thrilled. She swallows. Feyd begins to spend more and more of his time just thinking about Reader because no one ever reacted that positively to him just behaving however he wanted (this would probably work best if the Harpies weren't allowed to come with him, were killed right after he arrived on Dune or never existed in the first place).

Childish dreams of an Out-Worlder sweeping Reader off her feet and away from her inescapable family and into a life of dramatic romance begin to be mapped onto Feyd's face as Reader spends most of her time alone in the darkness of her cell.

Until I'm thinking Gurney and some Fremen scouts break into the Arrakeen palace for an assassination attempt and while they're there, they free Reader against Paul's orders (Hey, she has a big family at least two of them are on the team). She's ok with leaving until she learns they want to assassinate Feyd. The Harkonnen tactics advanced so much upon his arrival they think they can win if they take him out. Reader knocks them out from behind. This is how Feyd find her. Surrounded by the unconscious bodies of her would-be rescuers.

I couldn't pick an ending here so here's both:

Feyd tests Reader by "accidentally" letting her take one of his swords. She uses it to kill the scouting team to protect him. He proposes with the idea of stringing her along and seeing what else he could make her do for him before locking her up again. However, the horror that his fiancée evokes in the Bene Gesserit makes him so happy he decides to drag it out longer. Then, she tells him about the deep-south holdouts and stops him from relaxing when all the northern Fremen are seemingly dead he has to keep her on his arm a little longer. Then she wins a sparring match against him so he has to keep her around until he can soundly beat her, take everything she can teach him and turn it against her. Before he knows it they've been engaged for a year and there's legitimate wedding planning happening. He still wouldn't call it love but it might be as close as he gets. Reader still loves it when he spits on her.

Feyd gets Reader to fake a break-out and helps her move the unconscious rescuers out a secret escape. When they wake up she claims Feyd found them but she killed him and dragged them all to freedom. She's his spy on the inside and with the confidence of Feyd's supposed assassination Paul and the other Fremen will be overconfident. This would probably culminate in Feyd winning the knife fight against Paul and then saying, "You did perfectly, sweetheart." And Reader bolting like an Olympian into his still bloody arms.

#feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x reader #original #asks #feyd x you #thank you so much for sharing your idea!#Hope i did OK!

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magapatriot64 · 16 days

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The most prestigious election in the world. The Presidency of the United States. Usually two candidates hammering out their agendas and their promises if they are able to win the most coveted job, the Presidency. Something changed. The Democrats have changed the game. Democrats no longer run on agenda. They have no agenda. Their goal? Destroying our America. How can they win after failure upon failure? Sell fear. Sell the people their opponent is bad for business. Lie about him and scare the people if they win our Democracy will end. Democracy? They mean Democrat Power. They use a rigged media to deliver nothing but lies, fear, and bullshit propaganda. Their message? Vote for us or die a slow death.

Democrats say if you are black and don’t vote for Kamala you should check your race and if you are white and don’t vote for Kamala you are racist. This here is their way to guilt you into voting for them.

They say Trump will be a dictator. They say Trump will cause bloodbaths in the streets if he loses. All lies. They tell you Trump is for the rich, wants to end Social Security, Medicare, low prescription prices. All lies and they know it. None of that matters when the coveted prize of power is at stake. It is no holds barred and they will eat their own to keep their quest for power and end our Constitutional Republic and replacing it with a NWO. They want to be the ruling class that rules the world.

If only the people who support the Dems could stop buying the bullshit and start opening their eyes and ears and learn the truth about the Party they defend and plan on voting for.

Kamala Harris already said the quiet part out loud. They want to depopulate the world. This isn’t fake propaganda, this is reality. They no longer support our most important ally, instead support the terrorists they are fighting. Proof? Kamala refused to meet with Netanyahu but if their money laundering CEO Zelensky came to town, they’d be rolling out the red carpet and another blank check. Where does it all end? It doesn’t if they stop Trump. They tried everything from smear campaigns, to trying to lock him up, when all failed they tried to end his life. Protecting Democracy simply means protecting the Democrat Party.

How important is this election? Imagine this. If the wheels on the bus, passage of time word salad Queen ever gets the White House it’s game over. You thought Biden was a puppet of the Obama far left? Kamala makes them all look like Conservatives compared to where she wants to take this country. The budget? What budget. They’ll be printing Monopoly money. Our schools? Education will be a thing if the past. It will be all about DEI training and government control. There will be no future because there will be no country. The open borders are all part of the plan. They are our replacements. They will be the slave class to help put their operation in motion. And that will start with getting rid of us. They already want to get rid of the old and sick. Just look at Canada. They think it’s ok to end your lives.

They want to control our food, our medicine, our doctors, mandating vaccines, and telling you how to live. Do you trust them? What the hell is in the food or water we ingest? What is in all the medicine we take? The only people that no their end game is we Conservatives and they know it. That is why they labeled us MAGA. Easier for them to find us and end us. Their mind games and controlling all started with having their base brainwashed against all of us and the end goal is to take us all out.

One problem. We all know this. Trump knows this. We also have goals. Our goals are simple. Keep Trump safe, return him to the White House, and flip the script by ending every last one of them, who is running their shit show, and finally returning our America. We have God. Our faith with the chosen one, Trump will end all this madness and restore civility forever in this the greatest Country in the world. My two cents.

👆🏻👆🏻👆🏻👆🏻👆🏻👆🏻👆🏻👆🏻👆🏻👆🏻👆🏻👆🏻

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shadowbriar · 2 years

Text

George Weasley - One Day

Pairing : (F/M) || George Weasley x Reader Word Count : 2.3k Warning : Arguments. Mention of food. Synopsis: Being the centre of attention all of their lives has made the two crave for privacy and tranquillity more than anything, but would solitude be a good enough reason to keep their relationship secret? Notes : I’m sorry it took forever for me to post it. It’s a rather challenging request, I have to admit. I don’t think I fulfilled the request as best I could so I’ll be sure to get back to this request one day and post another one with similar trope. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

George traces the shape of her clothed shoulders, a smile spreading on his face as his fingertips touches the softness of her knitted jumper. Her eyes were closed, still deep in her slumber that he hoped were filled with him. He prays that she dreams of him, just the way he’d always dream of her each night. George would never want lovely mornings like this to end. He wished to be sucked into the eternity of her force. She’s the one thing he would never be able to live without.

The brightness of the sun was peeking through the drapes. He knew that he needed to wake her up, no matter how much he wanted to go against it. He loves watching her sleep. The peaceful sight of her gives him a certain sense of serenity that he couldn’t find elsewhere. But he knew that if he let her sleep any more minute, neither of the two would get out of the bed for hours to come and she would certainly be angry at him for making her skip her classes.

“Darling, wake up.” He calls softly, caressing her cheeks “It’s morning already.”

She hums, “Five more minutes.”

“You say that every other morning and would be angry at me when I give it to you.” George chuckles “Come on, open your eyes.”

A soft groan escapes her lips. Her eyelids slowly flutter open, trying to adjust to the brightness of the room. The corner of her lips curved into a smile as soon as she saw his face, mere inches away. A light lean would make the tip of their noses touch but close is simply never close enough for them.

“Good morning.” She greets, placing a small kiss on the corner of his lips “You look handsome this morning.”

George chuckles, “You say that every morning too.”

“Well I’m a slave of honesty. You are a handsome man, George Weasley.”

“I hate you.” He says as he pulls her close to his chest, trying to hide the blush appearing on his cheeks “You soppy little witch.”

“I love you too, George.” She chuckles before sighing “I don’t want to get to class.”

“Hogwarts’ brightest witch no longer wants to go to her classes? Merlin, just how much have I corrupted you, eh?”

“Not enough, apparently.” She sighs, pulling away from his embrace slightly to look at his face “McGonagall asked me to help prepare something after school at the Great Hall. Reckon it’s one of those Triwizard businesses. I’m starting to regret being a prefect, actually.”

“Well you being a prefect made it easier for us to sneak out and for me and Fred to install our pranks.” George reasoned, smiling mischievously “Why else would you think I’d date you?”

She rolled her eyes, “I hate you.”

“And I love you, too.”

A big happy grin was plastered on her face. She pulled George close, kissing him passionately to show just how much of bliss and happiness this one redhead has given her. George finds one of his arms circling around her waist as the other supports his body that’s now on top of her, making sure that he’s not squeezing her with his weight. To say these two were drunk in love seems to be the understatement of the century.

“Godric, I wish I could kiss you like that in the hallways.”

The smile on her face waters down at his comment. Her brows slightly knit in sorry, eyes looking guilty as if she wanted the same thing yet couldn’t give it to him. Merlin knows just how much they want the world to be the witness of their romance, yet being the subject of public attention all their lives, they fear that people would only pick on their relationship and make things for the worse. They’ve seen first hand how words spread like wildfire and caused damage to others. Though they knew that none of such judgement would matter so long as they have each other, to gamble their peace is still something neither would favour.

“One day.” She says with a soft tone, giving him a peck on the cheek as a promise “We’ll kiss like that in the hallways one day.”

—-

George feels like his sanity is being shredded silently. The past few days have been a nightmare. He has to hold in the urge to deck each bloke that speaks of her name and there have been too many for him to count. Ever since the Yule Ball was announced, students have been talking about it on every corner and it’s driving him insane. The fact that more boys have shown their interest and are planning to advance with her is making him lose the plot. He couldn’t help but to feel jealous and insecure and it didn’t help that she’s so out of reach now.

He’s starting to resent the fact that she's a prefect now.

His grip on the fork tightened as he watched the Ravenclaw Head Boy walk to her table, looking nervous as he began to talk to her. He could see her friends nudging her, giving what seems to be encouragement and support in favour of the blushing boy. George could only guess that he’s asking her for the ball.

Their eyes met for a brief moment. George could only hope that in those split seconds she saw the disappointment and the brewing anger he was feeling. He could see her turn back to the Ravenclaw boy, telling him things George couldn’t make out of but feels slight ease when the boy turned his heels and went back to his table.

Not wasting another second, George takes a deep breath before standing up from his seat in the Great Hall and approaches her. The baffled expression she was showing and the raised brows of her friends when he called her was making him tremble but he’d be damned to spend another day tormented in the uncertainty if his own girlfriend would be his date for the ball to come.

“We need to talk.”

“Weasley,” She greets in surprise, making George flinch from the last name mentioned “I’m a little bit occupied at the moment, can I see you later instead?”

“Now.” He says firmly, eyes locked on her “If you care the slightest bit about me then you’d come with me right now.”

She gulped, the whispers of people around them were beginning to get loud.

“Okay.” She says with a forced smile, standing from her seat.

She tries to keep a calm composure as she follows him exit the Great Halls. The eyes of students present were trained on them, making her nervous. Is he really trying to out their secret this way? Surely there’s better ways to announce their clandestine relationship.

“What were you doing?!” She asks, her tone infuriated as George closes the door of the empty classroom “People were staring at us, did you really want them to know?”

“Do you have a date already?” George dismissed her words, his frustration getting the better of him “For the ball, do you have a date already?”

Her brows furrows, confused at his angered question.

“Answer me, please.”

“No, I don’t have a date yet.”

“Good,” He says with a relieved nod, his rage seems to be subdued by a notch “For a second there I thought you’re going with someone else.”

“Hold on, you want me to go with you?”

George raises an eyebrow, “You have someone else you want to go with?”

“No, I just thought-” She pauses for a moment, licking her lips in nervousness “Do you really think that it would be best for us to go together? I mean, people will most certainly start talking and I just- I’m not sure we’re ready for that.”

“We’re not ready or are you not ready?” He asks, feeling his blood to be boiled once more “What exactly are you so afraid of? We’ve been dating for months, I thought that both of us are grounded enough to go out and make it public.”

“I- I just-” Her words were caught in her throat, not expecting him to have such a reaction.

“Are you embarrassed of me?”

Her eyes widened, “What, George, no I would never be embarrassed of you.”

“Then what are you so afraid of?”

She was mute. The silence was slicing his heart, every worst scenario playing in his head. He was forgetting the reason they tried to keep their relationship a secret in the first place. Why did they even keep it secret? What could’ve been so bad with people knowing that they’re in love? Aren’t they in love?

“George-”

“You know what, save it.” He says in defeat, disappointment bleeding out of him “I hope whoever you wished would ask you for the ball, ask you.”

“George, wait-”

For once since they’ve dated, George clogged his ears and walked away. He knew that he might be overreacting. Perhaps he could’ve come calmer instead of headbutting her strong as he did a couple minutes ago, but the torture of having to watch every other guy asks her for the ball and the fact that she didn’t even want to go with him, hurts. Their arguments only further prove that his insecurity was based. Perhaps they’re not as in love as he thought they were.

—-

The following morning turns out to be the worst day in his life. George could barely sleep, eyebags forming under his eyes. He fears where the argument may lead them now. He wanted to take everything back, apologise and beg for her forgiveness to have caused such nausea, but a bigger part of him, precisely his pride, was holding him back. He needed her to know that their hidden affair is hurting him. He wanted to love her proud and aloud for everyone to see. He wanted every soul in the castle to know that she’s his and he’s hers. Why is it so wrong to hold such a desire?

Now back to his spot at the Great Hall, George keeps his head low and eyes vacant to his food. He couldn’t comprehend the story Fred was telling, the words sounded like some background noise he wanted to silence. He couldn’t even tell Fred about the troubles he’s having because he would just feel even more pathetic. Fred asks Angelina to be his date out in public for everyone to see and yet he couldn’t even get his girlfriend to be his date for the ball.

“Hello, you.” Fred says to the stranger approaching them “Such a pleasant sight to see you come to us.”

“Morning, Fred. Great day so far?”

George turned his head fast, recognising whose voice it belongs to.

“Could be better, honestly. This git right here didn’t hear a word I said and mind you it was a brilliant story.” Fred snorted, nudging on his twin “Exactly what you did to have broken him this way?”

She winces at his comment, “Can I have a word with George, please?”

“He’s all yours.” Fred says, giving her his seat “Just don’t break him worse, alright? I need him to install a prank on Snape later.”

She nods, giving the older twin a sweet smile before sitting down.

George’s palms were beginning to sweat. He could feel the eyes of students staring at them. It’s not everyday you see the straight as an arrow prefect hanging out with the obnoxious prankster.

“George, would you look at me, please?” She asks, her tone soft and unsure “I’m sorry.”

Her hands start to reach for his, taking his right hand into hers and holding it gently. George looks at her with confused eyes, hesitant of her action. She has a smile plastered on her face yet her facial features still show the same timid expression, mirroring the emotions he’s feeling.

“I’m really sorry for not being able to give you the right answer yesterday. In my defence, I didn’t expect you to come to me and demand for us to come out from our hidings. I was surprised, that's all.” She explains, trying to clear the misunderstanding “It’s not that I don’t want to be your date. I want to, truly. I just didn’t think that it was wise for us to go if we haven’t really thought it through.”

George nods, “And what do you think now? Is it still unwise for us to go public?”

“I’m sitting next to you and holding your hand, aren’t I?” She chuckles, her cheeks red from the anxiety “People are staring, if you haven’t already noticed.”

The boy remains quiet, smiling lightly as he looks down to their entwined hands.

“I have a question to ask you,” She says once more, taking a deep breath to ease the anxiety tainting her bloodstream “Would you go to the ball with me, George Weasley?”

George chuckles, tucking a few strands of her hair behind her ear, “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?”

“Just answer the question, alright.” She rolls her eyes, falling for his teasing “I’m trying to win you back over here.”

“Win me over? Darling, you never lost me.”

With a sheepish smile, she leans in and eliminates the gap between them. It took George a couple seconds to actually comprehend the event in motion before closing his eyes and kissing her back, passionately melting his own insecurity and doubts from the gentle kiss. Murmurs of the students present were travelling through the air but neither of the lovebirds seemed to care. Their relationship has been kept hidden for too long, it’s time for people to finally witness the blissful affair these two puppies are in.

George was about to pull away when she pulled him back close by the tie, seemingly not ready to break the kiss yet. He couldn’t help but to grin, feeling proud that she’s finally embraced him wholly. He traces her jaw, calloused fingers gently caressing her skin. If it weren’t for the lack of oxygen, he would never let go of her.

“I need some air.” She stated the obvious, cheeks red from emotions “We’re not done, though.”

“No, we’re not.” He grins, nodding “Guess one day finally arrives, huh?”

#george weasley #george weasley oneshot #george weasley imagine #george weasley scenario #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley angst #george weasley fluff #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x oc

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hwanghyunjinenthusiast · 1 year

Text

[19:57]

Tags and warnings: Hwang Hyunjin x Fem! Reader, not very relevant but, this is a non-idol au, elements of perv! Hyunjin, mentions of unconsensual voyeurism and photography, Dom! Reader, more subby! Hyunjin, foot fetish, foot grinding/mild cock stepping, dirty talk, degradation (m. receiving), stocking kink if you squint and mentioned oral sex.

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

Overtime is, easily, the bane of your existence. However, you need the money. There's a new apartment you've been eyeing for months now and, as much as you wish it would, you know the money isn't going to materialise in your lap out of thin air.

So, here you are.

Your eyes already burning with fatigue while you stare at your computer screen. Willing your brain to care about the numbers spread in front of you. The office is mostly dead. Everyone else opting to clock out hours ago, leaving you and the new hire to slave away at your respective desks. The joys of capitalism.

Speaking of which, Hyunjin remains steadfast in his concentration beside you. The sounds of him clicking away at his keyboard combined with the faint hums of the machinery on the floor all that keeps you company. You don't know how he remains so focused when you find your mind slipping away every few minutes. God, maybe you should just go home for the night. Your brain is turning to liquid in your skull.

"I'm going to take a little break. Maybe get some food. Would you like anything?" His question startles you enough that you nearly knock over your water bottle. Frankly, you're surprised he's spoken to you at all. In the weeks he's been here, Hyunjin tends to keep to himself for the most part. Not because he's reserved or has some sort of superiority complex, you've come to learn, it's more so because he's shy. Only piping up from time to time and, he seems to be the most comfortable around you.

His offer is sweet but, "No, thank you. I have some snacks in my bag and I have my water for now. Thank you though, Hyunjin," you respond with a small smile. The flush that rises to his cheeks is surprising but, he nods and scurries off before you can think about it too much.

Now, you're totally alone. The excel sheet your only companion.

You're close to finishing up this one anyway, luckily. A few final checks and you're free to work on the next one. Stretching your arms over your head, you cringe at the knots that have made themselves at home in the base of your neck. You can hear Minho's voice filtering through your brain clear as day. Nagging you to take better care of yourself.

Shoving thoughts of your fussy best friend aside, you can't help but, sneak a glance at Hyunjin's desk. Typically you'd be more than happy to wait for him to return so, you can compare sheets to ensure you're both on the right track. However, you're tired. And you want nothing more than to take a scorching shower and crawl into your sheets. So, you opt to be a little more proactive. Rolling your chair over to his desk until his screen is within your view. Some of his numbers are a little off but, they're mostly fine. He's picked up on the ropes pretty quickly. It's impressive, to say the least. However, a folder catches your eye before you can return to your desk.

It's simple. Titled 'Favourites' and nothing else but, there is something almost siren-esque that calls you to it. You know this isn't right. Yes, it's his work computer but, it's still his computer and he's entitled to some level of privacy on it. Minho has always said you're too nosy for your own good. It could be filled with his favourite tools to use for all you know.

The folder is not filled with tools. Not even a little bit.

You're stunned to see what appears to be hundreds of pictures. Pictures you're pretty damn certain are of you. Tonnes of pictures focused on your legs, your breasts straining against your button-up shirts at times and your heels. You're not even sure what to think, let alone feel. Your lips parted in shock while you scroll and scroll and scroll. When had taken all of this? How did you never notice? Why are they on his fucking work computer?

"Hey, I'm back. The line was a little longer than-" Hyunjin's words stop as soon as he sees you sitting at his desk. His brain taking a few very long moments to process your new position as well as what's filling his screen.

It's impressive how red he becomes within seconds. Looking for all the world that he'd much rather the Earth open up and swallow him whole than continue this tense interaction with you. Long fingers clutching his sandwich and coffee as a lifeline.

"I ca-can explain. I wasn't- this isn't- I'm-"

If someone had told you even a few hours ago that you'd be propped up on Hyunjin's desk with his bare cock pressed against your stocking clad feet, you would have thought they'd utterly lost their grasp on reality.

And yet, here you are.

Your panties cling to you in a way that is quickly growing uncomfortable but, that doesn't matter right now. Hyunjin's hair sticks to his already sweaty forehead. Previously neatly styled, dark locks now a mess while he pants with every jerk of his hips against the soles of your feet. Not meeting your eyes. His pretty cock bordering on painfully hard and copious amounts of pre-cum dribbling out of it. Every whine and moan hits you like a tidal wave. Everything about him just has to be so gorgeous, doesn't it?

"Jinnie," you drawl, adding pressure to your feet and smirking just the slightest bit when he chokes out a grasp at the sensation. Purposefully dragging your feet along his length and using your toes to toy with the sensitive underside of his head.

"I can-can't- please- " he gasps out, doubling over in his chair while his cock jerks dangerously against the pads of your feet but, you haven't had your fun yet.

"Are you already going to cum, Jinnie?" You ask with a faux pout and tilt of your head, adding even more pressure until the heat from his cock is searing your skin through the barrier of your stockings. "Gonna cum just from me using my feet to play with you? Isn't that a little pathetic?" The saccharine quality of your voice sends a shudder from the top of his head straight to his throbbing cock, more slick staining your beautiful stockings.

"Not-not gonna c-cum," he huffs out with a spark of determination in his voice despite the pitiful state he's in right now. As though you can't feel how hard he twitches when you begin to drag your feet along his length once more. As though the way he hunches over when you press and press and press isn't so blatantly obvious. Barely contained moans ringing out through the empty floor.

"Really?" You ask, biting your lip to hide the smile that threatens to split your face in half when you use your toes to stroke his tip, "Because I think your cock says otherwise. Are you really going to cum just from this? What a little pervert you are, Jinnie."

You don't fail to notice the way he whimpers when your mouth coils around the word 'pervert.' Oh. Looks like there's even more to your little coworker than meets the eye.

"Oh wow, not only are you a little freak who takes pictures of my feet to jerk off to but, you like when I'm mean to you too? You're more of a masochist than I thought," His face must be burning based on the flush you can see moving below his neckline. Cute. He doesn't respond verbally but, the way his hips jerk into your feet tells you all you need to know.

"You're such a disgusting pervert. I wonder how many times you snuck off during your breaks to touch yourself to the thought of me. Well, how is it, slut? Better than you imagined?" You enquire, the rush of having him crumble underneath you making you a little bit lightheaded. When he still doesn't answer you, this time, you choose to stop.

The way his head whips to meet you would be comical if he wasn't still incredibly hard underneath you and his teary eyes didn't cause your heart to rise to your throat.

"Pl-please, don't stop," he whines, lifting his hips up from his seat to desperately grind against your feet. The sight significantly worsens the state of your likely ruined panties. "This i-is better. So muc-much better. Yes, I'd sneak away to touch myself to y-you. Ah. I couldn't h-help it. You're so bea-beautiful and you're always fuck so nice to me," he rushes out and god, how could you not touch him after that?

"Something tells me you don't only like it when I'm nice to you," you muse before increasing the speed from earlier. Your blood roaring in your veins watching him start to crumble underneath every stroke of your feet, every bit of weight you press further and further onto him. "You like being a little, sick, perverse slut huh. My little perverse slut. Did you want me to see you? Find you cumming in your pants to fantasies of humping my feet like the pathetic, little loser you are?"

Much to your surprise, that's all it takes for Hyunjin to totally shatter. Your eyes widen and your heart thunders in your chest when broken moans fall from his plump lips. His eyes squeezing shut while his cock throbs against the bottoms of your feet, soiling them in rope after rope of his sticky cum. Gathering your bearings, you help him through it. Lightly dragging your messy soles against his cock until it has nothing more to give. His body jerks violently in overstimulation until you eventually stop, pulling away from him to let the man return to his body.

The sensation of his cum on your feet is a little odd but, it's worth it. He looks so beautifully fucked out slumped in his chair. Unfocused eyes staring up at the ceiling while his chest heaves with exertion. Sweat dripping from his cut jaw while his softened, slick cock rests against his work pants. You hope you'll remember the vision he provides for the rest of your life. Your clit throbs just from drinking him in.

Well, you don't see why you can't journey further down this rabbit hole. He came on your feet minutes ago. You're pretty certain the two of you have thoroughly stomped over any sense of propriety.

Fuck it.

"Hyunjin," you call, and you walls clench harshly when he turns his glazed over eyes your way. He's horribly unsubtle, and you don't miss the way his eyes linger on your chest before drifting to your spread thighs. You try not to smile too hard when he swallows. Loudly.

He's just so easy.

"Don't you want to take care of me too?" You ask with a pout, spreading your thighs further and tugging your pencil skirt higher until it bunches up at your waist. You're beyond wet. You've soaked through your stockings and you're sure he can tell.

"I'm so wet," you moan, dragging your fingers along your slit. A breathy gasp leaving your lips when you brush your clit, your eyes fluttering at barest hint of sensation.

The sounds of him rising from his chair and shuffling onto his knees forces your gaze to him. Heat simmering in the pit of your gut when you watch him shuffle closer to you until you can feel his laboured breaths hitting your skin. Large hands tentatively resting on your thighs as he makes himself more at home between your legs.

You don't think you've ever been wetter in your life than in this moment. His big, brown eyes glancing up at you while he presses light kisses to you over your stockings. Prompting soft mewls from you and your hips to unintentionally jolt against his mouth.

Maybe overtime isn't so bad after all.

Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated.

#hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #stray kids smut #hwang hyunjin x reader smut #hyunjin x reader smut #stray kids x reader smut

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princeblack · 5 months

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cleaning the fan switches takes forever, using a rag that’s quickly becoming too greasy for the job. the winds of tatooine are heavy today, making the sand sting his eyes as he works. he pulls his scarf up over his face, squinting as he reaches to clean the last switch.

no one bothers him in his work because he belongs to watto, resident toydarian, junk dealer and human trafficker. regulus grew up in slavery, being put to work as soon as he was old enough to pick up a wrench. his mother always told him he was a miracle, her gift from above when she was purchased by the hutts. she said she was given him to save her; her one and only joy in a bleak, unforgiving life.

and regulus tried to be a good son, despite how difficult it was sometimes surviving the harsh weather of tatooine, bringing food home for his mother and learning tasks most would consider too complex for his age. but he became an expert pilot as young as eight years old, building droids on the side. watto found out about most of them, selling them so he couldn’t make any money. but he managed to get compensation for at least a few he built in creative places, slowly stockpiling his family’s meager savings. if it weren’t for the transmitters he needed to disable, he could’ve escaped this planet by now.

he’s almost done with his task, letting the scarf fall from his face. just then he’s interrupted by the rumbling voice of watto, beckoning him into the shop in huttese. regulus begrudgingly gets up, hurrying back into the dusty junkshop. it’s empty except for watto and two figures; an older man with dark brown hair, dressed in a poncho, and a young girl around his age. her beauty makes him do a double take, surprised by the sight of the prettiest face he’s ever seen. people aren’t often beautiful like this; in fact, they never are. she’s almost ethereal, from her soft auburn braids to her perfectly sculpted features. she has big blue eyes, full lips and a delicate bone structure. there’s almost an innocent, clean look about her, as if she doesn’t belong on this planet. regulus has seen many traders and pilots and sometimes their children, but none looked like like her.

“coona tee-tocky malia?” watto demands angrily in huttese, asking regulus what took so long.

“mel tassa cho-passa,” regulus responds, assuring him he was cleaning like he was tasked.

"chut! chut! gando doe wallya. me dwana no bata." he practically barks the words, demanding regulus watch the shop so he can do business out back. his yellow eyes are narrowed almost greedily at the man in the poncho, who regulus assumes is about to be swindled out of whatever money he owns. the blue toydarian’s wings flap as he leads the older man from the building, a nasty smirk revealing those yellowed tusks jutting from his mouth.

regulus wonders if the princess still standing in the junkshop has ever seen a toydarian before. he strides over to the counter, taking a seat on it and fixing curious green eyes on her. “you must be from one of the moons of iego. i heard from a space pilot once that angels live there– the most beautiful creatures anyone's seen in the known universe.” his tone is light-hearted, although he means every word. she’s the most gorgeous person he’s ever met, and there’s something angelic about her.

he doesn’t know that she’s the naboo queen undercover, anonymously trying to help a jedi find parts to repair their ship so they can make it to coruscant and report on an invasion on her planet from the trade federation. he only knows that she’s beautiful and far too clean for tatooine, seeming like a fish out of water. he’s drawn to her; some tug that he can’t ignore. he knows better than to ask for details about her business or how she wound up in the outer rim, because one of the first lessons he learned as a slave was not to ask customers for details. it was bad for business. / @devcted

#Ⅰ. ⸻ / 𝑹.𝑨.𝑩. ( prose ) .#Ⅰ. ⸻ / 𝑹.𝑨.𝑩. ( 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕. bexley ) .

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mdhwrites · 3 months

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Why Do Modern Isekai Like Slavery?

So the easy answer here is that it allows the MC to treat a girl like complete shit and she still has to suck his dick. That it's part of the power fantasy. However, that's the easy answer. That's treating these authors like they're just trying to find an easy answer for fetish bait and for getting to the tropes that their audience likes. I don't find that useful analytically. So, for now, we're going to hang that up and talk about shudders for a moment the narrative utility in a fantasy story of including slavery. God I hate some of the shit this will make me have to say.

I do want to be clear: Slavery is bad. Absolutely terrible. There are few worse things you could to a human being. I would personally argue that killing another human being is less inhumane than slavery. I feel like I should make this clear because I am going to talk about, from a storytelling perspective, how acknowledging slavery in your setting can be useful, especially for these sorts of stories.

With that out of the way:

Any fish out of water story, which ALL isekai inherently are, need a few things to make sure our protagonist doesn't just wander around for a couple days before dying of lack of food or pissing the wrong person off. Those things, though this list is not comprehensive:

A basic understanding of the world, or at least someway to be stopped from breaking common knowledge on accident.

Something that can help them survive in this new world.

Something to help them not go crazy

If we address MODERN isekai's tropes directly, we could also add "Must be a love interest" to this because these are harem anime trying to not have the stigma of harem anime. This actually does add an extra wrinkle of:

4. Isn't going to fuck off when they get the protagonist to safety or when they choose to do things like go fight the demon lord or whatever.

So you need adhesion. That moment in a romance title where the two people aren't just potentially interested in each other but stuck. Something that makes sure that no matter what happens, the starter town farm girl nuts up and shuts up.

A slave girl, genuinely, fits ALL OF THESE. They can be a constant companion who is always on their side who also has a familiarity with the world and has lived at least some amount of a harsh existence and so likely knows something about surviving in this world. The fact that they can't go anywhere or question you inherently adds to this adhesion. Even if it's an isekai protagonist who frees the slave girl in question, they'll just go with the angle of "I owe you my life and so I pledge it eternally to you."

Put a pin in that last part. We'll get back to it.

It also accomplishes a lot of things outside of just this narrative utility for our protagonist mechanically. It also allows for worldbuilding and character defining. Does he just buy the slave like in Shield Hero? Well, he's kind of a bastard then and he's a bit more anti-hero because he's willing to help the slave trade. Does he instead kick down the door, slaughter the slaver and free the girls? Well, you get an early moment of being a badass and unarguably the hero. In both cases, it also opens the door for both author and audience to claim that this is 'dark' fantasy because they're tackling real atrocities like slavery!

Rolls eyes out of the back of his head.

It's incredibly efficient storytelling... and it's also really fucking lazy. Slavery is the poor man's option here and requires you to just acknowledge slavery as the selling of people and not its wider contexts or even the wider traumas of anyone who has even been threatened to be enslaved. It is a very callous, very utilitarian way to use the trope which is kind of terrible for something that actually happened.

Remember that pin? Yeah, that's just a character deciding to enslave themselves rather than being officially enslaved which... What? Who the fuck chooses that? Now yes, an argument can be made of "If I don't stick with you, I'd die," but that's STILL the argument of the slaver as well. That they're too far from home, or that their home is gone, and so they HAVE to behave until they can have a master who will take care of them. It is just another prison. But that's NOT useful for the narrative purposes being exploited here and so we just go with some fantasy 'life debt' bullshit which immediately obliterates really any attempt to claim you're dark fantasy. REAL dark fantasy has the hero free the slaves, them look at him like "Okay, what now motherfucker?" and question how he's now going to keep them alive because at least the slaver was doing that much. Or when he tries to make them work for him, they will bring up the arguments I am because if he actually gave a shit about them, instead of posing virtuously, he would help them get home and back to their own live. They wouldn't force these people to just be an extension of themselves because 'dark' fantasy interrogates the tropes of fantasy and how they ACTUALLY might play out because fantasy worlds are always a place of grand cruelties and injustice due to their commonly very violent nature.

The point to all of this is that at the beginning of this, I discarded the meta or marketing reasons for the use of the trope. The problem is that modern is isekai is so poisoned in so many aspects that even if you discard one explanation of laziness and poor writing... You just run into another. That's why these shows have the reputation they do. Do they sometimes manage to be better? There's too many of them not to have exceptions. The rule though is that the writing is bound by genre law to be as abused and warped as the author needs it to be to just get the story done.

And that's bad for everyone, like always. See you next tale.

======+++++======

What's extra funny to me is that if you wanted to not have the real world baggage and actually make the life debt thing maybe work, there's a really easy answer: Highway rescue. Someone is accosted by bandits, the hero saves them but OH NO! The wagon that's destroyed already had all their stuff so they need their savior's help further and if they will help them live, they will do anything for them. There you go. Just as easy but you don't look like a creepy dick of an author who is exploiting real world tragedies without actually acknowledging what they do to people.

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

#Isekai #writing analysis

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jumpywhumpywriter · 3 months

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Captured -- wild humans hunted and captured to be used as servants part 18

Warnings: captivity, starvation, starvation whump, cruel whumper, painful recovery, torture, etc.

He was awoken later by someone shaking his shoulder, and he cracked his eyes open to find Caspian waiting. Corbin quickly sat up in his seat.

"Kazimir--is he--?"

The medic smiled. "It's nothing short of a miracle... but Kazimir survived the night . He's not out of the woods yet, but it's a good start."

Corbin looked over to see his friend still unconscious on the medical bed -- but he was still breathing, and a massive wave of relief crashed over him.

"You were out cold the whole day," Caspian added. "There's a dinner being held in the other room. You should go join the others, you need food to recover."

Corbin's stomach rumbled loudly in agreement, and he rose from his seat, wincing as his stiff injuries rubbed against the bandages wrapping them. He glanced reluctantly at Kazimir.

"Don't worry, I'll be keeping a close eye on him while you're gone," Caspian chuckled, as though reading his troubled thoughts.

Corbin limped away, and his mouth watered at the rich aroma of fresh-baked goods that hit his nose. He entered the main room to find a long wooden table set up in the center, with over a dozen people already seated -- but what shocked him most, was that there were humans there, eating with bird-folk. At the same table. As equals.

Bird-folk and humans alike laughed and joked together as if they weren't two very different species. The humans weren't being treated like slaves, or inferior servants. They were being treated like... friends? Companions?

"Not what you're used to, is it?"

Corbin jumped as Rhysand appeared beside him, grinning with amusement at how he was gawking at the sight. Corbin awkwardly cleared his throat, ears tinting red with embarrassment.

"Uh--Yeah, everywhere else I've been humans are just treated so... differently," he tripped over his words.

Rhysand nodded grimly. "You are correct, most bird-folk despise humans, and only see their usefulness as servants. But we're different." He flared his grand wings to the sides, gesturing to the whole room.

"Welcome to the Rebellion, kid. We've been working to overthrow the laws and rules allowing bird-folk to keep humans as pets. Every human you see here was once a mistreated servant we rescued." He chuckled at the awestruck look at Corbin's face.

"Whenever we rescue humans we give them a choice to either leave the city or stay, and most of them choose to stay and become our allies in the battle to free humans." He gestured to an open seat at the table. "Go ahead and eat your fill, there's more than enough to go around."

Corbin smiled shakily and sat down, nervously eyeing all the new faces. He awkwardly started shoveling food onto his plate, listening in to the conversation all around him. There were people talking about everything from the weather to raiding mansions, and all spoken in such a casual manner -- so strange.

And it felt so weird to be eating alongside the very monsters that had once captured and tortured him. An image of Nakita flashed through his mind, making him shudder.

"Oh dear, you really must have been starving!" Corbin flinched and looked up to see a bird-woman holding a platter of food standing right behind his seat. He hadn't even realized how fast he'd wolfed down his entire meal.

"Would you like some more?" The woman added sweetly.

"U-Uh... S-Sure...?" Corbin stammered, and watched in amazement as she placed a large helping of fruit onto his place.

A bird-folk. Serving a human. It was unheard of.

"You must be new here," the woman giggled at his astonished expression. "You don't have to worry about being turned into a lowlife servant anymore. Rhysand takes very good care of us all. Humans included.” She turned and whisked away to assist elsewhere, and Corbin dug into the fresh food, eating until his stomach hurt. He glanced next to him, and realized that Jasper was on his left, watching him closely.

Corbin swallowed hard, trying to muster the courage to speak. His head was buzzing with questions. “So.”

“So?” Jasper raised an eyebrow.

“Uh, I heard that Kazimir was the founder… of the Rebellion?”

Jasper nodded. “Yup.”

“Aaaaand Rhysand is his ally?”

“Also yup.”

“Ooookay then… good talk…” Corbin pursed his lips in a grimace.

“How do we know you aren't a spy?” Jasper said, eyes narrowed. “You and Kaz were both leaving Nakita’s mansion – and Kaz isn't awake to tell us if we can trust you.” he leaned in close, making Corbin twitch away slightly.

“Oh, ease up, Jasper! Leave the poor human alone, he's been through a lot.” The bird woman next to him smacked him hard with her brown wing, and Jasper whirled toward her, sputtering indignantly, but she put a finger on his lips to silence him, golden eyes dancing with amusement as they flicked to Corbin.

“I’m Melanie. I sincerely apologize for my mate’s rudeness, ironically he himself used to be a spy, so he’s become a bit paranoid that there might be other spies in our midst, ever since Kazimir recruited him and earned his loyalty.

“I'm not being ’paranoid’,” Jasper grumbled under his breath. “It's called being careful…”

Melanie rolled her eyes good-naturedly at him. "Don't be a buzzkill. I for one would like to formally welcome you to the Rebellion."

"Thanks." Corbin fidgeted uncomfortably with the edge of the shirt he'd been given. "Can I ask... how have you been able to rescue all these human servants?"

"The humans around here come from all across the city," Melanie answered. "Kazimir and Rhysand had been leading the rescue efforts, raiding houses and stealing the servants away. We've been trying to gain allies and increase our number of recruits, because it was Kazimir's end dream to rise up and rebel against the royalty and get rid of all the pain and cruelty. He wants to tear down the current government and build it anew. A civilization where bird-folk and humans can live together peacefully."

"That sounds too good to be achievable," Corbin mused.

"All change is difficult, but it is worth the fight," Melanie said confidently. "Tensions have been rising for quite some time. And our people are furious to find out what Nakita did to Kazimir." She glanced around anxiously, then lowered her voice to a whisper.

"...If you ask me, I'd say we're on the brink of all-out war.”

Corbin shivered at the thought of that, of blood running down the streets. War meant casualties. And a lot of them. And to think of all the human servants that could die in the crossfire...

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

#whump inspiration #whump list #whump writing #hero x villain #whump #whump fic #whump prompt #whumpee #whumper #whumper and whumpee #whump community #whumpblr #writing prompt #bird person #bird people #fantasy #fiction

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melishade · 1 year

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Attack on Prime Peaceful Timeline: If Fritz did survive.

So this is an idea that I've been having in my noggin for some time and I wanted to expand on it in detail. I've already discussed this with @justawannabearchaeologist and @echoblaze5 but I also wanted to put it here.

For those you who might be new, basically Attack on Prime: Peaceful Timeline is an AU where TFP Optimus gets sent to Founder Ymir's time and stops the power of the titans from ever existing. And Fritz dies, quite brutally, and it was so satisfying to write. For more info: here's the Peaceful Timeline Pilot, and I have my masterlist that goes into detail of what Optimus and Ymir have been doing after that time. Also here's the link to the Marriage, because there are some other characters you'd want to familiarize yourself with for this scenario.

But what if there was a slight differentiation. A deviation in the Peaceful Timeline. What if Fritz's wasn't killed by Helos after Optimus fled with Ymir?

TW Torture. TW Blood TW Anxiety

Picture this: King Fritz climbs up Ymir's titan form to grab her after her insubordination in the pilot which was to kill Optimus. But Optimus grabs Ymir from the nape of the neck and blasts him off of Ymir's decaying titan body. Optimus uses this cover to flee, but so does Fritz. Helos isn't able to spot him and kill him. He assumes he died during the attack. But Fritz used the smoke of the titan body to limp away and hide in the forest. He still watches as his empire falls before him. He watches his men either get killed or be forced to surrender while the Marleyans celebrate with tears of joy.

Fritz lost everything. His throne, his empire, his weapon. He's reduced to nothing but rags, carrying nothing but his blue cloak, his armor, and his sword. And now only one thought fills his mind and fuels him: find his slave Ymir and rebuild his empire. He searches for years, spite and anger fueling him. He ages and becomes weaker. He sees the damage his empire has caused, and he is forced to become the lowest of the low. He has no food, no water, he's forced to beg on the streets. He has to sell his armor and his cloak in order to eat, but he still keeps his sword. He is forced to hear the celebration of his defeat. Of how the 'Savior from Heaven' defeated the 'Devil of the Earth' and freed the world from his empire.

Despite witnessing the death and destruction he has caused and seeing the struggles of the common people, he doesn't have a change of heart. He's still bitter and spiteful and doesn't have a change of heart. He refuses to accept change, and only wants destruction and power. He wants to take back what is his.

So years later, at least eight years later in this hypothetical (Before Ymir tells Oshern the truth about her power), Fritz is still searching, but he's old at this point, but surprisingly spry and strong. He's just very delusional and has been having hallucinations, but he does end up near the village at the base of the mountain and spots Ymir foraging with Solveig. His slave was still alive after all this time! But they don't notice him as they return to the village together. But Fritz limping over to them with a sword in hand. However, when he gets there, he loses track of them, as they enter Solveig's house. The villagers notice him, and think he's in trouble and want to help. But Fritz loses his shit and swings his sword at them, demanding to know where his slave is. He ends up slashing Darrbey's arm and nearly stabbing Garth.

Ymir and Solveig are alerted to the noise. Both are watching in shock to see Fritz attacking the villagers, and Ymir hears his voice demanding for his slave, and the world stop. No...NO! He found her?! NO! Ymir is trembling in fear, and Solveig is telling her to get inside. But Ymir catches Oshern trying to calm him down. But that gets Ymir to react as Fritz swings his sword at him. Ymir runs and gets in front of Oshern and is slashed in the back, her dress getting torn, and blood spilling everywhere. Everyone is horrified as Oshern and Ymir are knocked to the ground, thinking that she's dead. But they all watch in shock as her wounds begin to heal. Oshern crawls back in disbelief while Ymir is on all fours, feeling the pain subside, but now she had gone from being scared to terrified. Her secret had been exposed.

Fritz is grinning. After all these years he finally did it. He found what he thinks belongs to him. He demands that Ymir return to his side at once, and he might forgive her for leaving his side and abandoning his duties to the Eldian Empire. Ymir's afraid to look everyone in the eye because now they know. They know what she is. They know that she's a monster. When Ymir doesn't react the way that he wants, he starts screaming and insulting her, telling her that the villagers know what she is: a monster, a freak of nature. She would never be accepted, he would be the only one who would. She would come back to his side! NOW!

The villagers are just mortified by this. This old man was insulting this woman! How the hell was she the monster?! Ymir is freaking out right now! Her hands are shaking! Optimus and Megatron weren't here! She didn't know what to do! But then she hears someone scream out 'MAMA!' Ymir raises her head to see Maria running towards her, calling out to her, but Magnar quickly grabs her and stops her from going further. But she's still screaming and crying out to her mother! And the villagers are just watching this fucked up scene before them, not really sure what to do. But Ymir seeing Maria, gives her resolve. She had her daughter, and she needed to protect her. Even if the world hated her, she knew for a fact her daughter didn't. She clenches her fists before getting on her feet. She turned to Fritz, and notices how different he looks. How old, and how weak he's become. He was no longer that same imposing figure that sat on a throne above everyone else. She walks up towards him, and the villagers are scared of what she's going to do, because they just witnessed her power and they don't know what the hell it even is! But then she speak.

I...am not...your slave.

The village is in shock. Ymir could talk, and her words were that of defiance. Fritz is in shock; he genuinely can't believe it. She just...defied him. He tells her to obey, but she tells him to leave. He tells her again, more forcefully, hoping it would be enough, but she still told him to leave.

"I am your master!" Fritz yelled at her, "I am ordering you to-!"

"LEAVE!" Ymir screamed out in anger, "LEAVE NOW!"

No. NO! Fritz was not going to take this insubordination lying down. She would die for it. He raises his sword to attack her, but Ymir is shocked when Oshern grabs her arm and pulls her back from the line of attack. Fritz is shocked. They defended her! But then Beini sneaks up behind Fritz and knocks him out cold. Solveig quickly orders for Fritz to be tied but and Maria wiggles her way out of Magnar's grip to get to Ymir.

"Mama!" Maria screamed as she wormed her way through the people to get to her, "Ma!...ma..."

The words die in Maria's throat when she realized how tense it was. All the eyes of the villagers...they were staring at her mother. Oshern was still holding Ymir's arm, but the woman yanked it back from Oshern and held it close to her chest. Ymir's eyes darted around the crowd that had formed. Her body began to shake, and her shoulders hunched over to make herself look smaller. Her mother...looked so terrified.

Ymir felt her breathing grow ragged as a million thought swarmed her mind. They knew the truth. They saw her power they knew she was a monster. She couldn't stop thinking about that day. When the other slaves looked at her, pointed their fingers at her and blamed her for the loss of Fritz's pig. The pain and terror that came after. The loss of her eye, the running, the drowning, the horrible torment and agony. But there was nothing to save her this time. There was nothing to give her power. Optimus wasn't here right now; she was on her own. No...She didn't want to be alone. She...

Solveig was worried as Ymir clutched the sides of her head and tried to control her breathing. She knew about Ymir's power for a long time, but had kept it a secret for a reason. But now the villagers knew, and Solveig wasn't even sure how she could spin this to protect both Ymir and Maria. The girl has been through enough; she didn't deserve more suffering! Solveig grew tense when Idunn let go of Darrbey and entered the circle, approaching Ymir in a calm and controlled manner. When Ymir saw Idunn's sandals in her vision, she tightened the grip on her hair even more and wired her eyes shut. They were going to shun her. They were going to kill her. She wouldn't be able to say goodbye to Maria, Optimus, Megatron. She wouldn't get to say goodbye to her fami-!

Ymir gasped as Idunn reached out and embraced her tight. Ymir's eyes snapped open at the gesture, but she still didn't release her head. What...what was this? Why was she hugging her?

"It's going to be okay," Idunn whispered, and Ymir's eyes were as wide as saucers, "It's going to be okay. We're not going to tell anyone about this. You're safe here, and you're not a monster. You're one of us."

That's...impossible. They didn't...shun her? They embraced her? She was being shown mercy? Ymir tried to contain her tears as her hands released her head, but her fear and relief had bubbled over to the surface, and the tears fell. The mother let out a loud wail in Idunn's embrace, making the villagers feel both guilt and sympathy for her plight. Solveig couldn't help but let out a breath of relief as Ymir continued to sob. Ymir was going to be alright. She was going to be safe.

During all of this, Optimus and Megatron were at the Cybertronian ship that they found to find energon and just be in their actual forms. When they returned to the cabin for the night, they were surprised that Ymir and Maria weren't there. They should be there by now. They go down to the village in their holoforms, and they see the villagers are in a panic demanding where the hell were they?! They explain some maniac attacked the village and was calling Ymir his slave. Optimus, worried, immediately demands where Ymir and Maria are and they point them to the mother and daughter. Ymir is draped in a blanket, her cheeks still stained in tears. She was drinking some water to rehydrate, and the two titans also see Maria curled up next to her mother under the blankets. The child's confidence was replaced with fear. She held Ymir by the waist and eyed the villagers with caution. Optimus calls out to the both of them, and the way their faces light up almost breaks him. They run up to each other and immediately embrace. Megatron checks Maria for any wounds and Optimus just holds a crying and relieved Ymir. But Optimus' mind is spinning. He wasn't here to protect Ymir or Maria. They were in danger, and he wasn't here. Optimus feels the clean tear in her dress and his spark drops. Ymir was injured. Her powers! Did the villagers know?! Megatron immediately asks where the assailant is and they all guide them to Fritz tied up, away, and screaming his head off. He screams at them to let him go and to give him back his slave. Megatron thinks the man has lost his mind, but Optimus recognizes the voice. From that day! He was the one! That monster!

"You...," Optimus spoke, earning all eyes on him. The old man kept staring at Optimus in contempt and confusion but he speaks anyway.

"Do not address me in such a disrespectful manner!" he yelled, "You are in the presence of royalty! And you have taken what is mine!"

"You...," Megatron grew tense at the sound of Optimus' voice. The villagers see his face morph into one of fury. His teeth were grinding against each other, and his fists were clenched tight. They are immediately reminded of that day the Eldian Empire invaded their village. But...they knew it was so much worse.

"For your sake, I'd advised that you remain quiet!" Solveig warned.

"I am the King of the Eldian Empire! I do not take orders from some decrepit old woman!" he yelled.

"YOU!" Optimus lunged across the table and punched the man dead in the face, breaking his nose and knocking him to the ground. The old man is yelling in pain from the punch, blood coming from his injury, but his pained expression turns into one of fear as Optimus glares at him like a rabid animal.

"I'LL KILL YOU!" Optimus roared as he lunged again, but Megatron lunged after him and grabbed him before pinning him to the ground. Megatron locked his arms around Optimus' abdomen to keep his arms down, but the Prime kept on kicking his legs and trying his best to wrestle his way out of Megatron's grip, flailing like a wild animal.

"Optimus, stop! Not here! There are humans here!" Megatron yelled, "Ymir! Maria!"

"LET GO OF ME, MEGATRON! I NEED TO KILL HIM!" Optimus screamed, "DO YOU HEAR ME?! I'LL KILL YOU FOR WHAT YOU HAVE DONE TO MY DAUGHTER!"

The villagers can only watch Megatron try to stop Optimus, but the man was running on pure rage, trying so hard to kill the old man. Ymir had to cover Maria's eyes and ears at the scene, but she is just as terrified as everyone else at the display before them. Please stop. She just wanted him to stop.

"COWARD! MONSTER! DIE!" Optimus screamed. Megatron tried to cover his mouth to stop him from saying more, but the Prime had bit down on the hand hard, destabilizing the holoform hand. But Megatron still kept his grip on Optimus and refused to let go. He knew if he did, it would be a bloodbath. Megatron heard cries of sorrow getting mixed in with Optimus' cries of angers. The Prime still tried to wrestle his way out of Megatron's grip. He still bit down on Megatron's hand to try and use pain to get him to let go, but nothing worked. The villagers kept on watching, still scared on what to do, but then they witnessed Optimus beginning to cry. Tears poured out of his eyes and disappeared the moment they left his cheeks. Optimus screamed out in agony, furious he couldn't get what he wanted.

Megatron turned his attention to Beini. "Get the old man out the room! NOW!"

Beini and Garth quickly grabbed Fritz and dragged him out. Optimus finally released Megatron's hand from his mouth, but the scream he lets out is louder than before.

Optimus has to be dragged away and Megatron has to calm him down. But the villagers want some kind of explanation. Ymir is still afraid to provide one herself, but thankfully Oshern is able to fill in on what he knows. Oshern explains the Eldian Empire was a ruthless bunch and they had been conquering the world with the 'Devil of the Earth'. He explains that the Empire attacked his home and killed his people, leaving him the only survivor strictly due to chance. He had heard the tale of the Savior of Heaven defeating the Devil of the Earth, but...they all turn to Ymir, hoping she can provide an explanation. And she knows that she has to give one. So she writes down her story and gives it to them to read. And they are all horrified. And so much shit is clicking for them. Why the family chose to stay in the mountains. Why Ymir didn't talk. Why Optimus went ballistic. They still don't know what Optimus or even Megatron are because of what they've seen between the two. The hand started disappearing! What do they even make of that?!

Maria can't help but ask if they were going to hurt them because she understood the importance of keeping Ymir's power a secret, but Solveig immediately shuts the thought down. No. They were safe here, and they were family here. They weren't going to hurt any of them. Ymir doesn't feel safe going home, though, so Solveig immediately offers the two stay at her place for the time being. Thyra and Tove take the two there. They end up lying on Solveig's bed and holding each other tight, but it's really hard for both of them to fall asleep. Solveig orders the children to be taken home while the adults handle the situation. Because there's a discussion: what were they supposed to do with this man now?

Megatron is able to bring Optimus back into the room as the adults talk. He's calmed down, but he has refused to talk. Megatron has to speak for the both of them. A lot of the adults are saying that they need to kill this guy. He can't be left alive. He's a danger. Some are saying the man is old. He'll be dead soon enough. Kick him out. Oshern is pissed off because he's literally the guy responsible for killing thousands of people in the name of his empire! He needs to die, and some of them want to let him go because they don't want to take the life of a person ?! Megatron also brings up the fact that if Fritz is left alive, it could inspire others from the fallen Empire to reunite and start their conquest again. But, Solveig thinks of a more creative solution.

"Megatron, was it?" Solveig asked the former warlord, "I know that you're smarter than that. Death is too much of a mercy for someone like him."

"From experience, Solveig, a problem like this left alive for too long is too much of a risk," Megatron declared.

"Fair," Solveig agreed, "But if we kill him now, it's too easy. Too instant. If we torture him, he'll end up dying from his wounds because he's too weak. We leave him alive; it's running the possible risk of reviving the Eldian Empire. But we can't have that."

Solveig stood up. "I think major problem in all of this is that we are still treating this bastard like his human. He's not. He's an animal. Scum of the earth, and the excrement left by animals when they've eaten something bad. If someone wants to act like an animal, then they will be treated like an animal."

"What do you recommend?" Megatron asked with curiosity. Solveig turned to Oshern.

"Oshern, do you happen to have the knife your father gave you?"

"Um, yes." Oshern pulled out the knife and handed it to Solveig.

"Killing him as a human is a mercy, and mercy is too good for him. He will live the rest of his days as an animal and he will die as animal," Solveig declared, "A slave has no need for a tongue, and an animal has no need for his balls."

(Basically, Solveig's got a kill count and it's enough that it gets Megatron's respect. Megatron:...What's your kill count? Solveig: I lost track after 20. Megatron: You would have been respected in Kaon)

After that! Fritz ends up losing his tongue and his balls. Solveig wants to know if Optimus can handle this, but Optimus wordlessly takes the knife, grabs Fritz's tongue and chops that sucker of in one clean swoop. Fritz is crying out in pain, but Solveig uses her medicine to dull the pain and keep him alive for his castration. Fritz is weak and in pain, but Optimus grabs Fritz by his collar, lifts him in the air, and tell him:

"You will never cause pain to anyone ever again. You will die," Optimus declared, "And when you do, no one will remember you."

Fritz was still choking on his own blood from the loss of his tongue, but see stared at Optimus in fear.

"You are a stain on this world," Optimus continued, "A stain on the earth that robs and kills of anything good, but when you die, no one will even remember your name. You will be wiped away by the ravages of time, and as long as I still function, as long as my spark still beats, I will ensure that you are forgotten forever."

Optimus dropped Fritz to the ground, at the wretched man crawls back in fear. His assailants, his tormentors, look down at him like he is nothing, like he was scum of the earth. Like he wasn't even worthy to be called even a slave.

"Leave this place," Optimus ordered, "And never come back."

And just like a terrified animal, tucking its tail between its legs, Fritz is forced to flee into the wilderness. Once he's gone, Optimus ends up collapsing to his knees and covers his face to silently weep, while Megatron walks over and sits down next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

So what happens after:

-Ymir is still really on edge when she goes to sleep and finally manages to wake up hours later. She sees Maria still awake, desperately clinging to her and not wanting to let go. The event traumatized Maria beyond belief and she doesn't want to let her mom go. But both of them are hungry and they need to get up. Ymir sits up on the bed, and is surprised to see a new dress at the foot of it, to replace her torn one. She puts it on, and Ymir goes to Solveig's kitchen, with Maria hiding behind her. And both are stunned to see Solveig, Oshern, and a few others making them food. Tove sees them and the woman beckons them over to eat, claiming they must be starving. But they don't even take a bite after they are seated. Maria asks the same question again: were they going to hurt them? And Solveig immediately tells them no once again. Ymir ends up kneeling down and bowing, apologizing for the trouble she brought, but they explain that she has nothing to apologize for. What she went through was horrible, and that she didn't deserve any of that. The fact that she stood up to the man who hurt her, is a testament to her bravery. Ymir is asked to stand up and the mother and daughter finally eat, but both are crying through every bite.

-Optimus and Megatron return after Optimus finally calms the hell down! He may have destroyed a thing or two on the ship out of frustration. And Optimus is so ashamed that he wasn't there to protect Ymir and that he let his emotions get the better of him. He apologizes to her, but Ymir just hugs him and rubs his back. He was in pain, and Ymir knows for a fact that she is loved. Optimus reassures her that Fritz is gone, and that he will never hurt her again, and it's the biggest weight lifted from her shoulders, because she knows that Optimus will keep his promise.

-Meanwhile, Megatron, who's had to be the voice of reason, has Maria clinging to him and refusing to let go. He sees the way that she's so scared. She was in a situation where she almost lost her mom. Megatron ends up holding her the rest of the day, focusing on comforting his Firelight and not trying to hunt down Fritz! He also says that he's going make sure Maria gets stronger. No exceptions. He doesn't care what Optimus and Ymir say. He does not want Maria to be in a helpless situation like that again. And Maria agrees, but right now, she just wants to feel safe with her Papa.

-Oh and the village also wants to know: WHAT THE HELL ARE OPTIMUS AND MEGATRON?! And Solveig immediately rats them out, saying that they are gods. And Optimus immediately tries to do damage control.

Garth: What do you mean you're gods?!

Optimus: We are not gods!

Megatron: We're demigods!

Optimus: MEGATRON!

Cause how are they supposed to explain aliens and planetary life to a place that doesn't even have electricity?! At least the villagers have a reason as to why Optimus and Megatron don't eat. But it also baffles them that they learn that Maria is the normal one out of the family. This does ultimately force Optimus and Megatron to reveal their titan forms with mixed reactions. Nothing too negative, although some people faint, and the kids immediately see a playground.

-But this does allow Optimus, Megatron, and Ymir to be more accepted into the village. There are no secrets anymore, and they can honestly breathe a huge sigh of relief at the idea of permanent safety. Although there is some accidental...worship. Optimus immediately tells them to stop while Megatron is interested in entertaining it.

-Oshern and Ymir end up having a talk. Ymir apologizes for keeping this a secret from him, and she understands that if he doesn't want to see her again, she understands, but Oshern just tells her that she's beautiful before kissing her. He loves her. That hasn't changed. Oshern and Ymir's relationship actually goes a lot more smoothly this time around because everyone knows the truth, so Optimus and Megatron don't have to be on edge, and they're able to get married a lot more easily.

-There's also the fact that the villagers piece together that Fritz is Maria's father, but for the sake of her, they keep quiet about it. She's been through enough as it is. Maria ultimately figures it out, but that's a conversation for another day.

-And as for Fritz, the last of his days he's treated as scum of the earth. No one spares him any change. People throw dirt and food at him, cursing and laughing at his situation. There are a few that survived the Eldian Empires fall. They see him and recognize him, and the fact that they are mortified and turn away, destroys Fritz. He would never be able to regain the power he once had. He was reduced to nothing, and he died with nothing.

(I love writing an abuser getting his comeuppance. It's fun. Also, Optimus losing his shit is also fun to write. Okay! Time to work on the Beloved Timeline Pilot and another Autobot Anthology entry.)

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spnexploration · 2 years

Text

Collared part 23

Pairing: Dean x Reader eventually

Series summary: Sam and Dean save a woman from where she has been held as a slave by a witch. But things turn dark whenever they try to take her magic collar off, leaving them with a slave to look after and a curse to break.

Episode summary: Your nightmares cause issues.

Warnings: drunk character

Word count: 1.1k

A/N: Scheduling this post as I'll be away with work, so my apologies that the masterlist won't be updated straight away.

Series masterlist | Supernatural writing masterlist

Part 22 <- -> Part 24

“Oh, sweetheart,” Dean muttered to himself. He'd just walked into the kitchen in the morning to find you sitting against the cupboards, surrounded by empty bottles. “Big night?” he asked you.

“Fu’ off.” Your words were slurred, you were clearly drunk.

“Y/N, it's 8:30 in the morning and you're drunk. Can you even get up yourself?”

“I ssaid: LEA’ ME ALONE.”

He crossed his arms, “Show me you can look after yourself and I will.”

You put your hand flat on the floor and tried to push up, but ended up slipping sideways. He moved to help you but you put your hands up to him, “I'mm ffine!”

You tried again, trying to coordinate your limbs. You looked like a brand new foal, unable to work out which leg went where.

Dean moved in and grabbed your arm before you smashed your head onto the cupboards, having toppled forwards in your attempts to get up. “Alright, Bambi. I think you've failed to make your point.”

You glared at him.

“How long have you been up?” he asked.

“Since I coul’n't slleep,” you growled at him, although the effect was rather ruined by your persistent slurred speech.

“Nightmare?” he asked gently. You looked away. He took that as confirmation. “You had any water during your drinking session?”

“I'm not your problem anymore, Dean.”

“You were never a problem, sweetheart.”

“Don't call me that,” you said with gritted teeth.

“Sorry. Ok, let's get you some gatorade and back to bed, hey?” He positioned you so you weren’t in danger of falling and then let go of your arm, before going to grab the gatorade.

When he came back, you let him pull you to your feet but your body language showed how reluctant you were to accept his help.

“You wanna have a tactical spew before the gatorade?” he asked. You glared in response. “Ok, ok, just hydration it is.”

He wrapped his arm around your waist to hold you up and half supported, half carried you to your room. “Drink this before you pass out, it'll make you feel better,” he said as he passed you the gatorade. “Give me a yell if you need anything.” You huffed at him and he headed to the door.

“Oh, and Y/N, you don't have to drink alone, you know? And you especially don't have to deal with your nightmares alone.”

---

Sam knocked on your door later on. Dean had filled him in on your early morning antics and he'd helped clean up the kitchen. He regretted not going in to find you himself before his run, but he was relieved that Dean said you'd accepted his help without too much fuss.

You groaned as he entered. “How are you feeling?” he asked gently.

“Like shit, you?”

He chuckled. “I brought you something for that,” he said as he held out painkillers.

“Thank God,” you mumbled, clutching your head. He passed you more gatorade which you gulped down.

“Come on, Dean's cooking you bacon and eggs, he is a firm believer in greasy food to cure a hangover.” Sam ushered you to the kitchen where Dean was waiting with food. The lights were very bright.

---

Your hangover was of epic proportions and lasted long into the day. You went to bed early, vowing to never drink again. You had vague memories of drinking yourself under the table in your early 20s and not being anywhere near as affected. Goddamn it.

Your nightmares did not leave you alone. You kept seeing his black eyes, his leer, his knife. The expression on his face that told you things were going to get a lot worse.

The pain.

You woke to Sam shaking you, your body drenched in sweat. “Y/N, Y/N!” Sam called. You hazily opened your eyes, looking into his concerned face. You saw Dean come running into the room behind him.

“Wha-what?” you managed.

“You were having a nightmare,” Sam gently explained, helping you to sit up from your bedding still on the floor. You were embarrassed that the brothers were seeing that you were still sleeping on the floor, but you still hadn’t been able to bring yourself to get into the bed.

Dean left and reappeared shortly after, holding out a glass of water to you. You suddenly noticed both men were only in their boxers, and despite telling yourself firmly that this shouldn’t mean anything, you felt embarrassed and could feel your face getting hotter.

“Um, thanks,” you mumbled.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sam said kindly.

“No,” you answered quickly.

“Are they getting worse?” Dean asked.

There it was. The sudden, red-hot anger you’d become accustomed to the last few days. “YES they’re getting fucking worse, what do you think?” you yelled at him. His hands came up in submission again.

“Maybe it will help to talk-” he started to say.

“OH NO, you don’t get to tell me how it might get better. You had your opportunity and you failed, you lied!” You hissed at him.

He looked confused. “Lied?”

Your resentment had momentarily taken control of your mouth, but your brain had just managed to wrench control back. Of course he didn’t know what you were talking about. You faltered. “It-it’s nothing,” you said in a much quieter tone, looking away from him. You couldn’t help the edge of resentment that remained though.

“I want to know,” he said gently. Sam had taken a step back and seemed like he was trying to stay out of it. You didn’t say anything.

He tried again, “Y/N, can you please tell me what I did? It’s obviously upsetting you.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” he insisted.

“It’s stupid, I didn’t mean it.”

“Clearly, some part of you did mean it. That’s ok. I just want to know what it was.”

You glanced at his earnest-looking face, then back at the floor. Your voice was laced with bitterness as you said, “I don’t want to talk about it. I’ll tell you, and then I want you to get out.”

“Ok, I will.”

You spoke quietly, tears welling in your eyes, “You promised that you’d protect me from the demons, that they wouldn’t hurt me again.”

---

That was a dagger to Dean’s heart. You looked so small and vulnerable, almost like you were trying to fade into the background.

You were right though. He had promised that.

And then he’d failed.

He stopped himself from reaching out to you and instead turned and walked out of the room, as he’d said he would. It was more important than ever that he kept his word. But God, he wanted to gather you into his arms and explain, apologise, beg for forgiveness.

He’d failed you.

Tag list:

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