#i hate that i have to work so hard to insert myself into every last thing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tyxoxo · 2 years

Text

One Night Only - III.

ch. 1 , ch. 2, m.list

Jeno x fem!reader series

Genre: slow burn, fuckboy!jeno, enemies to lovers/hate fucking fwb! bookstore jeno → model jeno au, 00’ dream + mark + jun (seventeen) character inserts

Words: 7.3k

(future) Warnings: pure filth, jeno is mean, cocky, stubborn, this relationship is extremely toxic (i dont condone, this is pure fiction), unprotected sex, choking, slapping, degrading, spitting, dumbification, dacryphilia, oral (f and m receiving), cum play, envy, mdni!

a/n: i somehow managed to injure myself ㅠㅠ and because of that, i didn’t get a chance to include everything that i wanted in this because im in pain. but dw, i’ve divided it up and ch. 4 is in the works!

Chapter 3

The day felt insufferable. Tuesday just had to be one of those slow days. That, combined with Renjun, Jun, and Mark being out, made you want to jab a pencil through your ear.

Only 5 customers had come and gone since the store opened and that wasn’t enough to distance yourself from Jeno. He had decided to take charge for the day…and instead of doing nothing at the register, he decided to be near you. You couldn’t tell if he was genuinely trying to help you unbox the new book repairs or just have a reason to constantly brush shoulders with you.

You remained silent as you used the box cutter to slice open the large cardboard lids. It sounded quite appealing to use that box cutter on him, maybe just a nick would be enough to fix his behavior.

Surprisingly, he had been quiet just like you, for now…

“So do you live by yourself?” Jeno broke the silence while the two of you bent down to pry open the cardboard boxes.

Yet again you didn’t look at him. You weren’t even sure if you’ve ever seen the exact color of his eyes since you’ve started working here.

“Uhmm…why is that the first question you ask me?” Fucking weirdo.

“Just trying to get to know you.”

“You’ll never get to know me.” You said it louder than expected. You trailed off with a stack of books in your hand, hoping to be faster than him so you could move onto your next task. Naturally, Jeno was right behind you, with his own stack ready to be put on the same shelves you were going to.

Your body felt tense knowing that the two of you were towards the back corner of the store. There was no telling what else Jeno would try to quiz you on.

“Oh, is that what it is? You’re playing hard to get?”

You could see from your peripheral that Jeno had his tongue poking his cheek with a devilish grin to match. There was no point in replying to his nonsensical quips, he would just have another thought up within the next 30 seconds.

“You don’t have to worry, there’s nothing appealing about you.”

It was amazing how much you tolerated his bullshit, although the heat in your cheeks conveyed otherwise.

“C’mon, say something. I’m bored.”

Silence still.

“Still nothing hm? What if I said I was sorry? Would you forgive me for calling you a basic bitch?”

“Over my dead body.” You spat back at him.

You could hear him trying to hide the chuckle brewing in his throat.

Surprisingly, that was the last of the conversation for the next hour. There were still two huge boxes left to open and every now and then Jeno would have to step away and check out someone at the register. Unboxing was a tedious task but it kept your mind busy. If Jeno was an actual decent person, you wouldn’t mind getting acquainted. It didn’t even feel morally right to ask him anything. How would he feel if you ticked him off just like he did you?

“I feel bad for Renjun.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Did you threaten him with his life and force him to be your friend?” You asked with no sense of playfulness behind your voice. You were dead serious.

“We’ve been friends since we were in elementary school. He’s used to me.”

“What do you mean, used to you?”

“He’s the only one that can put up with my bullshit.”

“Clearly.” You scoffed. It was obvious but you just wanted to hear it from him first.

Of course people acted differently at work versus at home but it seemed that Jeno was a straight-shooter no matter who was around.

“I feel bad for myself.”

You resisted the urge to turn your head and face him because of his statement.

“Why?”

“Because I’m here, with you. I’d rather be sick at home.”

“Who the fuck raised you?”

You deserved an answer.

There was a moment that you considered holding your head high to anticipate his response. But all thoughts of courage were ripped away from you as a flurry of wind swirled around your body. You barely had time to raise your hands and resist as your subconscious dispersed your vision for a split second. Jeno’s hands clasped onto your shoulders as he pushed you into the bookshelf behind you, his hands then settling on either side of your head. Your back arched at the harsh contact of the shelf striking your spine, causing your chest to recoil. There were no defense mechanisms you could muster. You felt trapped, but inexplicably satisfied.

You finally met his eyes, for the first time.

They reminded you of burnt charcoal…a dark, endless, loophole of black.

His cool breath hit your lips as his husky voice singed all the way down to your core.

“Don’t you ever question me about my family.”

He bared his teeth as if he was a predator. A predator petrifying its prey. You noticed that his eyes were no longer burning into your own. They had traveled down to your lips.

You weren’t able to process if a customer had seen the two of you in this position: Jeno…pressed against you. Not out of passion, but out of rage.

“You’re finally looking at me. Don’t… move.” He whispered to you now, but his icy breath still laced into your nose with the same intensity. You obeyed him, hoping that he could see that you still had not moved.

Your clasped hands were beginning to give out. Your knees were buckling. Why hadn’t you slapped him already?

Before you could take a breath, Jeno backed away from you as a grunt fell from his lips.

Through your hooded eyes, you saw him storm off to the bathroom. There was a tightness in your chest that you never felt before.

Your knees gave out, causing you to slide down the shelf. The floor seemed like an acceptable resting place for now.

It took every bit of control Jeno had to not grasp your chin and take a bite out of your lips. That bitch…How dare she.

Those that really knew him, knew to never bring up his family.

“You’re not worthy to be my son anymore.”

Picturing his pig father spit those words made venom pool in his mouth.

It was the same scene that played in his mind during those nights in his room. Knowing that his mother never stood up for him, instead retreating back to watch her husband disparage their only child.

He would make sure your filthy mouth never crossed that line again. All you needed was to be brought down to your knees, and taught how to take a mouthful of cock. It was the perfect way to shut you up.

Jeno shook his head of his intrusive thoughts. It was excruciating how tight his jeans were beginning to feel knowing that you were probably in shock from his treatment. Meeting eyes with you for the first time, seeing that pitiful look on your face. He craved to see that again. You reacted in a way that made him feel like he owned every bit of you.

It didn’t help that Jeno had been practically bitchless for 2 weeks. To others that was standard but to him, it was unacceptable.

A splash of water to the face was enough to cool him off but he was faced with another problem: he had a very visible boner.

He could have tried to stay in the bathroom for a few more minutes but something told him that you were going to be found by a customer and taken away to an urgent care clinic.

“Fuck my life…” Jeno sighed into his hands. Invisibility would have been perfect for this moment as his sense of clairvoyance was predictable. Once he opened the door, you were still slumped against the shelf. A customer was tending to you, patting your forehead with a tissue.

“Are you okay? Do I need to call an ambulance?” You hoped the elderly lady beside you had no idea what happened.

“I’m fine. The books were just too heavy.”

You would just have to use the disheveled floor to your advantage. Surely it seemed that you tried to carry way more than you could handle which caused your body to give out. Atleast, that’s the picture you painted for this caring customer.

“Are you sur-”

“I can help her. I’ll make sure she rests and gets something to drink.”

You couldn’t hide the staggered look on your face. Jeno had appeared on the other side of you, crouched down with his hand on your shoulder; a sizzling afterburn from where they were moments before.

“Here, take this. This should be enough to get her a bottle of water from the store nearby.”

She definitely didn’t see what happened.

How could anyone forget a snake like Jeno, trapping you within his broad frame?

He smiled and reached his hands out to decline the money she offered. You had never seen him smile before. Although he tried to hide his true intentions, seeing his lips turn upwards in a closed-mouth grin was an image you would never forget.

“Thank you for your concern.”

The elderly lady finally gave in. Once she was far enough away, you managed to see through your faltering vision that Jeno’s smile flipped completely. He had that lethal look on his face again.

“Get up.” Jeno’s voice resonated through you. You winced at how tight he squeezed your arm to drag you over to the tables nearby.

“That hurts!” Before you could protest some more, you were already seated. He didn’t even bother saying sorry.

You watched as he returned to where all the books were: you must’ve not heard them drop before he practically manhandled you against the shelves.

Jeno began to gather the books into a single pile while crouched down. You found it strange how stiff he looked while trying to put them on the top shelf.

Was he really that stumped from eye contact? It couldn’t be that. This was “vain Jeno” you were referring to.

One rub of your eyes was all it took to see a tent in his jeans. But a second one was needed for good measure.

The best thing you could do was pretend you were blind. Your eyes immediately fell down to look at your hands.

You had given up your seat at the table a long time ago so you could cover for Jeno while he went to lunch. The only indicator being that he ripped off his badge and stormed outside.

4:45pm

[renjun]: is jeno being nice?

It took you a second to realize that Renjun had indeed texted you. The two of you hadn’t exchanged numbers yet.

[you]: how did you get my number?

[renjun]: i asked mark for it, hope you don’t mind. something just told me that i needed to check on you.

[you]: aren’t you sick? why don’t you rest

[renjun]: thanks for ignoring my question. i’ll just bug jeno later.

Renjun’s sense of perception intimidated you.

There was only about 2 hours left until the end of your shift. It had been excruciatingly awkward since Jeno blindsided you earlier. He kept his distance but if that was only because of his boner, that was a testament to your worth.

You prayed the Mark would be back tomorrow.

One Month Later

“Hey, i’ve been meaning to tell you that there’s a new optical illusion museum that opened up in Seocho. I don’t have anyone to go with, would you be interested?” Renjun asked while the two of you were side by side attaching a huge banner to the ceiling that read “NEW ARRIVALS: Historical Fiction, Military Fiction, and more!!”

“Oh, that sounds cool! When do you want to go?”

“I was thinking this weekend? Does that sound good?”

“Yeah that should work. I haven’t been doing anything interesting lately.”

“Same here. Let’s aim for Sunday!” Renjun said while fanning the banner to get out the wrinkles.

If this was anyone else besides Renjun, you would’ve declined the invite. But the two of you had gotten quite close within the month of meeting each other for the first time. You considered Jun cool too but he spent too much time with Jeno on the clock; so he was a hit or miss most days.

It comforted you knowing that Renjun knew that you and Jeno still weren’t on good terms. You were definitely the more mature one as you didn’t want to ditch Renjun just because he and Jeno were childhood best friends.

Jeno had stopped antagonizing you ever since that Tuesday. There was no teasing, smart remarks, eye rolling, nothing. You knew he was a womanizing edgelord but you never thought he would have a chance to get that close to you. You figured that if nature versus nurture was in his favor, maybe he would’ve turned out different. There was obviously something that wounded him in the past.

“I'm open to whatever time just-.”

“Come down guys. I have a very important announcement!” Mark's clap accompanied with his interruption nearly scared you off the ladder. Luckily, it wasn’t that high of a drop if you did manage to fall.

“Ahhh, Mark you scared me!” Renjun exclaimed as he hung his head low.

You, Renjun, Jun, Jeno, and Mark were all circled around in the back of the store. Mark had a huge grin on his face as he stood and faced the 4 of you.

“I just wanted to tell you all that I have been extremely pleased with your guys’ performance. Lately, we’ve been picking up the pace with a lot of new arrivals and book signings, but that doesn’t stop you all from really outshining our competitors. I wanted to show my appreciation by hosting a dinner at Cornerstone tomorrow night at 7:30pm. You are not obligated to come but I highly recommend it. They have amazing Italian food and I'm paying for everyone’s meal!”

From what you could see, the 4 of you didn’t really have much of a reaction until Mark’s last sentence. Renjun and Jun’s mouth even dropped. You were quite shocked as well. That restaurant was located in Gangnam: one of the richest and most upscale districts in Seoul. You nearly fainted at the fact that casual dress probably wasn’t allowed there.

“Wouldn’t that be expensive though?” Renjun asked while biting his lip. It seemed he was thinking the same thing you were.

“I’m down. It’s free food.” Jun shrugged while giving Renjun a “don’t mess this up for us” expression.

“Jeno, you coming?” Mark signaled him out, most likely because Jeno was usually busy on the weekends with some girl. Everyone was aware of that.

“Since you’re paying, yeah. But I'm not going to stay and chat.” He scoffed while blowing a strand from his bangs out of his face.

“Fair enough! It’ll be at 7pm. No such thing as fashionably late! You guys can resume. I hope you all consider coming.”

“Do you still feel like going to the museum? I would just feel bad if you had to see my face that much outside of work.” Renjun whispered to you while everyone went back to their designated areas.

“Nooo it’s fine. I need more to do with my weekends anyways!”

“Okay good. Thank you for agreeing to hang out.” Renjun bowed with clasped hands.

“Of course!”

There was no reason to be this stressed over an employee dinner. It was currently 5pm and you still hadn’t chosen an outfit.

Searching up pictures of the restaurant didn’t help: it looked expensive just like you imagined. Luckily, you had a few items of clothing that could fit a fancy dining place. It was just a matter of putting together what matched.

You opted for something simple and monochromatic to blend in easier; nothing too flashy nor too plain. Plus, whatever you could do to remain invisible to Jeno, the better.

By the time you showered, washed your face and did your hair, it was already 6:30pm. You were cutting it too close. It took 45 minutes to travel via subway from Hongdae to Gangnam. Taxiing was a faster but more expensive option that you didn’t feel like taking.

“Shit…” you exhaled while rushing out the door with your wallet, keys and phone. The brutality of the winds outside shocked you down to your bones. By the time you realized there was an overcast, you were already boarded on the train to Gangnam.

You felt alienated in this part of Seoul. It wasn’t often that you could visit or sight-see, especially with your salary. Even the people on the train were dressed to impress, but considering it was an incoming Saturday night, there were bound to be people with their own expensive weekend plans.

Walking the 10-minutes from the subway station was half the battle considering the harsh winds. Leaves constantly blew up against your ankles causing you to skip along the crosswalk.

Your phone read 7:29pm by the time you made it to the doors. You hoped and prayed that they weren’t already seated.

It was quite packed inside but that didn’t stop you from observing the interior. There were so many different variations of glass vases placed around, all filled with onyx stones and lillies. Dainty fairy lights hung from the ceiling with a crystal chandelier in the middle. Every table was a polished acacia wood with red velvet booths and chairs.

You were definitely only ordering an appetizer.

Your guilty thoughts of hurting Mark’s bank account was cut short by a hostess that walked up and greeted you.

“I’m looking for a party of 4 under the name Mark Lee?”

“Yes, right this way, miss.” The hostess led the way towards the back, with a runway walk that must’ve been so exhausting to execute during her entire shift. It made you feel self conscious about how poor your posture was.

Mark must’ve lucked out with being able to score a table in the very back that was away from the noisier areas.

To your dismay, everyone was there before you…including Jeno. You technically weren’t late, just right on time.

“Last one to show up eh?” Mark smiled while getting up from his seat. You almost stopped in your tracks from seeing him in a suit. You were only used to seeing him in a white crew-neck with the sleeves always bunched at his elbows, a green apron, blue jeans and tennis shoes.

“I’m so sorry.” You bowed to him as he did to you.

“I’m just teasing. We haven’t even ordered yet, just waters and champagne.” He said while pulling back the chair for you to sit.

Fortunately, you were seated in between Renjun and Jun, with Mark and Jeno on the other side of the table. Your breath hitched in your throat at seeing Jeno. He kept his head down, presumably to text on his phone, not once to look up at your arrival unlike the others. He had a pained look on his face but you had to admit that he looked good. His furrowed brow causing a lump in your throat.

His forehead was showing, which was a first for you to witness. His hair was slicked back, his bangs heavily pomaded. He wore a tucked white t-shirt, rustic-suede jacket, belt, black skinny jeans, and black chukka boots. The only reason you were able to tell what he wore from the waist down was because of how low the table was.

Renjun sported something similar to Jeno but with a black suede jacket and beige oxford shoes.

Jun adorned a black long-sleeved dress shirt, dark blue cuffed jeans, and brown chelsea boots.

“Now that everyone’s here, I can give a proper thanks.”

Renjun cleared his throat to get Jeno off of his phone. It worked.

You watched as he raised his head up slowly before pinching the bridge of his nose. He was irritated with something, probably with the idea of being stuck here.

“As you all know, my parents are entrusting me with ownership of the store. They’re getting close to retirement age so I do have some pressure on my shoulders with taking over but because of you all, I’m able to see through to an ever growing future.”

Mark always astounded you with his way with words. You figured he was young when you first met him but when Renjun confirmed that he was only 23, it explained everything. He had a young yet sovereign spirit.

“I know that you all have your own aspirations and ventures and I don’t expect you all to stay with me forever so why not make a toast to the present? This dinner is for you guys.” Mark beamed while raising his champagne glass for us to follow along.

Who knew that a job at a bookstore would lead to an extravagant dinner hosted by your young, rich, boss?

“Cheers.” The 5 of you said while toasting each other's glass.

A few moments later, the server stopped by and took everyone’s order. You ordered an appetizer, just like you had planned. The same couldn’t be said for Renjun, Jun, and Jeno though.

“I don’t want this dinner to just be about me. Let’s do a round table of everyone’s future plans. Renjun, how about you start?”

This was one way to pass the time waiting on food but it was also nerve-wracking at the same time. You didn’t really have an intricate answer. Even Renjun was caught off guard by the question; his eyes scanning wildly out of control.

“Uh-uhmm. I’m not too sure yet. I’m really happy working at the bookstore. If anything, I want to become a vet tech but we’ll see.”

“That sounds cool. How long is the schooling for that?” Mark asked after taking a sip from his champagne glass.

“Just 2 years at any technical school. That’s better than the 4 years my parents wanted me to do. They weren’t too happy with me not wanting to do university.”

“Makes sense! I hope it goes well for you.”

“Thank you.” Renjun said while graciously bowing in his seat.

“Alright, you’re next.” Mark pointed his glass to you. But you were going to try to dodge this as best as you could.

“I’m not too sure yet either. Jun you’re up.” You covered your eyes at how much you failed to get the attention off of you.

Everyone but Jeno chuckled. You were curious if Mark would try to pester you or leave it be.

“I get it. Don’t worry, I won’t force an answer out of you. But yes, Jun your turn.”

Before Jun could speak, the server came with a tray of everyone’s food. You thought you were familiar with Italian cuisine but judging by how grande these dishes looked, you were wrong. There was no way you could accurately name them. Based on what knowledge you had, you could only recognize Jeno’s dish as carbonara.

Your appetizer was a decent sized portion considering fancy restaurants were usually skimpy on the amount of food given. Everyone began to dig in, undoubtedly hungry since it was around 8pm. You tried your best to keep your eyes glued to your plate but every now and then your eyes would scan Jeno.

How could he possibly not have a headache from how tight his brows were pulled together?

Even the way he ate seemed so mad. He attacked his plate with his titanium chopsticks. Maybe he was just hangry…

Jun continued the round table after taking a few bites from his plate of food. You smiled to yourself seeing Renjun chew his food; every now and then he would pat his own cheek to remind himself not to smack.

“I plan on moving to Germany. I’ve always been so immersed by their language and culture. I guess they’re offering a lot of editorial jobs for authors there.”

Everyone’s eyes got big at his revelation.

“Wow! I had no idea. How long have you been learning German?” Renjun asked while wiping his mouth with his napkin.

“Ever since I graduated high school. So for 8 years now.”

“Could you say a few words for us? If you don’t mind?” Mark asked with a look of amazement on his face.

Jun began talking in German with ease, so fast that you couldn’t tell where the sentences ended and began. Even though you couldn’t understand, you clapped along with the others.

Jun smiled while putting his hands together, bowing twice.

“That’s amazing. Well, certainly don’t give up Jun!” Mark said while the rest of you nodded in agreement.

“Okay, nice guy. Your turn.”

You should’ve pretended to choke on your drink at Mark’s title given to Jeno.

Jeno ignored Mark, choosing to eat his food at a quicker pace. Renjun sighed.

“Jeno?” Mark addressed him in a more subdued tone of voice.

“What?” That was the first word Jeno spoke since you’ve been here. You couldn’t tell the exact nature of his mood from the simple “what” because of the amount of food in his mouth.

“I’ve overheard about your modelling endeavors a couple of times. How’s that going?” Mark attempted to approach the conversation in a way that would get Jeno to open up. You weren’t sure if it would work.

But, modelling?

You were definitely not around when this was discussed at work. Maybe it was before you got there.

Jeno put down his chopsticks after taking his last bite of food. He sat back in his chair, patting down his jacket.

“Yeah, I’ve gotten a few offers here.”

“Oh okay. How soon until you leave us then?” Mark asked with a raised brow.

“It depends.”

You wanted to hear more but he was keeping his responses short.

He indeed had the face, the height and the physique to pull it off. You just hoped that whoever gave him a chance never got to witness his personality, unless maybe he got his shit together by then. The table felt a bit awkward now that everyone was finishing up with their meals. The clacking of utensils couldn’t fill the silence anymore. All of the champagne was gone, and no one seemed like eating dessert.

“I hope to see you on billboards someday, Jeno.” Mark winked while signing off on the bill. Out of respect, you kept your head down so you couldn’t see the price. It was best you didn’t know.

“How’s everyone getting home? Just thought I'd ask since it’s quite dark out.”

“I live in Jongno but the station is only a 5-minute walk. I’ll be fine. Thanks for the food.” Jun said while gathering his keys and phone.

“You’re welcome! What about you two? I’m assuming you all are leaving together?” Mark directed his attention to Jeno and Renjun.

“Ye-”

“No. I need to go to the store.” Jeno cut Renjun off to his dismay. You noticed how he darted his eyes towards Jeno, obviously bothered by that decision.

“You can’t just wait until tomorrow?” Renjun asked in a frustrated tone.

“No. Thanks for the dinner Mark.” Jeno lazily saluted Mark and stood up from his seat, already making his way to the front.

“Anytime! What about you?”

“I have about a 10-minute walk to the station.” You said while gathering your belongings.

“Are you okay to travel alone?” You really didn’t mind. Seoul’s crime rate wasn’t a cause for concern.

“Yeah, I’m good! I actually like walking at night.” You made sure your voice sounded more confident so Mark wouldn’t get any ideas about escorting you home.

“Okay! Well, I appreciate you guys coming. Enjoy the rest of your weekend.”

Once you all made it to the front entrance, everyone collectively sighed. The wind was still just as angry as it was an hour ago.

You noticed that Mark, Jun, and Renjun had reached for their umbrellas that were in a caddy underneath a coat rack. Jeno must’ve already walked out.

One look at the weather app was all it took for you to curse under your breath: the forecast showed heavy rain within an hour. You were the only one not prepared.

“See you tomorrow at noon right?” Renjun nudged your arm as everyone exited to go their separate routes.

“Yep! See ya.”

You were shit out of luck thinking you could make it home before it rained. As soon as you got a far enough distance from the group, it began to pour.

If you hadn’t rushed getting out the door, you would’ve remembered to grab your umbrella out of your shoe closet.

This was the longest 10-minute walk of your life.

Although the neon lights from bars and restaurants reflected nicely off the pavement, you weren’t able to see much else around you. The heavy droplets hitting your eyelids felt too much like hail.

Jeno had managed to go to a nearby convenience store to grab a pack of condoms. For some reason that couldn’t wait until tomorrow like Renjun suggested but he figured since he was already dressed nicely, he might as well visit a new girl he began talking to just yesterday.

He managed to get her number within 3 minutes at the grocery store yesterday. Easy.

However, it wasn’t easy planning the hookup. She seemed indecisive, which was why he looked so irritated at the dinner. When he offered to show up, she brought up an excuse.

[grocery store girl #3]: well, i have a roommate

[jeno]: and? we can try to be quiet

[grocery store girl #3]: plus, my roommate has a large dog, wouldn’t that be an issue

[jeno]: no. do you want me to come over or not? why not my place?

[grocery store girl #3]: no it’s raining. come to me instead

[jeno]: i’m gonna stop by the store and then i’ll be there in 10

She was hot, but she was being difficult. At this rate with the weather, he might as well give up. But he was lucky to snatch her that day. He’d gone a month without sex. That was considered taboo.

She conveniently lived in Gangnam to which he automatically assumed she was part of the higher class demographic. Luckily, he brought along an umbrella so he could still scan the GPS on his phone. The “Maps” told him to cross the street at the next light as her apartment was situated on the left side of Apgujeong road.

The streets were still roaring with cars and people skipping along with their umbrellas. Once in a while a passerby would look up and stare at Jeno; how his long legs looked in his black skinny jeans, how he walked with such determination.

Jeno had to stop himself from freezing in the middle of the crosswalk. There in the distance on the left side, he saw you.

No umbrella, no coat…rushing to get home.

What a fucking idiot…

The forecast clearly showed a rainstorm that would last all night.

He thought of leaving you there to get drenched in the rain. Not like you would be able to see him walk past you anyways. After all, he had a girl waiting for him.

A scream erupted from your throat from feeling a tug on your shoulder. Without even seeing who touched you, you swung your arms in a feeble attempt to defend yourself.

“Hey, chill out! It’s me!”

The voice came from Jeno?

“You scared me! Say something next time!”

Once you were able to contain yourself, you saw him. Of course, he had an umbrella and you didn’t.

“I did! You couldn’t hear me.” He spoke loudly to combat the raindrops that sounded too much like firework poppers.

“Oh. Sorry. Well what do you want?”

You made sure to sound annoyed. You saw how he looked at the dinner and the last thing you needed was his bad juju to engulf your already crappy night.

“Do you want me to walk you home?”

Your body tensed up. This proposition seemed unheard of coming out of his mouth.

“Y’know what. Forget it.”

He began to stomp along the pavement, leaving you as a statue amongst the storm.

“No! Wait! Yes, you can.”

He stopped and turned slowly, with one hand in his pocket and his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. He kept his head down as he stepped up to you.

He outstretched his arm, giving up his umbrella without another word; getting drenched in the process.

“We can share. Don’t do that.” You wrapped your hand around his wrist that was holding onto the umbrella. His brow furrowed at the skin contact, but you figured it was from your cold, wet hand.

You stepped under the umbrella and the two of you began walking to the nearest subway terminal.

“Do I need to give directions or are you familiar with how to get to Hongdae from here?”

“No, I’m familiar. Can we just take a taxi? It’s gonna take fucking forever if we take the train.”

Since he had control over the umbrella, you both stopped in the middle of the sidewalk as he looked down at you, waiting for your answer. This was only the second time that the two of you held eye contact for this long. You remember the last time being a complete heart-stopper. The way his black eyes scanned your face waiting for a response made your lips quiver. You could just mentally blame it on the temperature outside.

“Yeah, le-let’s take a taxi. I’ll call one.”

“Have them come to this bar over here.”

Jeno pointed over to the nearby bar still teeming with customers. It was better to sit in there than on the wet ledges outside. The two of you continued to stand in the middle of the sidewalk, splitting the wave of oncoming pedestrians while you called.

“They said they’ll be here in 15-minutes.”

Jeno led the way to the bar, shaking his umbrella free of the excess rain once you all made it to the front entrance.

This all felt so strange. You still had a ways to go until you got home, yet here you were, with Jeno. There was no way he would go the entire distance. He would surely give up if this taxi took longer than 15 minutes to show up.

“Are you okay?” You asked while the two of you sat at the bar. It was crowded but you didn’t have to talk too loud for him to hear you.

“Why do you ask? Are you upset that I’ve directed my attention to someone else other than you?”

He totally misinterpreted your question.

Why did you even bother asking?

“Who’s someone else?”

“C’mon, you can’t tell that you’ve dragged this on for too long.”

“I never tried to lead you on. You’re just delusional.” If it was true that he was done aggravating you, then why did he have to announce that? Why was that so important?

“Why were you being disrespectful during the dinner? Being on your phone instead of being a part of the conversation?”

“Don’t ask me questions. It’s none of your business. Plus the last time you asked me something, I made you light headed. So I suggest you tread lightly.”

“I can handle you just fine…” Jeno knew you couldn’t. The lies you told only fueled his ego. If he had it his way, you wouldn’t be able to come into work for a week.

You swallowed that familiar lump in your throat when you saw him shake his head and smirk.

Tonight would only get worse from here.

The rest of the time spent at the bar and the cab ride was mostly quiet. You got plenty of looks from strangers. It made you wonder if they thought you and Jeno were dating. You felt off-color for even thinking such a thing. Jeno did fit the model archetype. It was only right for him to be with someone of the same standard. Hell, he looked like he belonged in Gangnam, as opposed to you.

The taxi was definitely the smarter option, a huge 20-minute difference. You were more than ready to get home, shower, and set your clothes up to dry in the bathroom.

“My apartment is just up here.” You pointed up to your home that was situated on a hill. Jeno didn’t respond, only following behind this time as you led the way to the lobby and then up the elevator to the 5th floor.

You felt a sense of impending doom. The amount of awkwardness that would flood your entire front porch once it was time for him to leave would no doubt drown you. It didn’t feel right to say “goodbye” or “see you later.” Not even a “thank you” seemed appropriate.

You didn’t know how far he lived from here but you figured he would curse at you in his head for having to walk you home, just because you didn’t bring an umbrella. For him to go the entire trip, meant something to you. He could’ve just left you once you got in the taxi. And he definitely could’ve left you in the lobby.

Come to think of it, why was he going up the elevator with you?

There was no way he was “gentleman” enough to walk you all the way to your front door too?

The “ding” of the elevator reaching the 5th floor snapped you out of your raging thoughts. You walked out, he followed.

You had your key ready in hand to open the door to your place. You made it home…finally. There was no amount of confidence you could dig up to face him and say thank you, so you chose to look down at his chest instead.

“Thanks for walking me home.” Your voice trembled again. This happened every time the two of you were alone; it was getting old now.

“You suck at eye contact, you know that right?” Jeno blurted out, completely disregarding your gratitude.

You froze.

“Why is that huh?”

You tried to ignore the rasp in his voice that undoubtedly made your hands sweat.

He took one step forward. You stood in place.

“I don’t know why I can’t stop thinking about you. It pisses me off actually.” He whispered.

He took another step forward. This time, his eyes peering at your parted lips, your chest touching his.

The moment you decided to look up at him, he backed you against your door. His arms were on either side of your head. This felt all too familiar.

To an outsider, it would seem that you were readying your clenched fist for a punch. But you were trying your hardest not to kiss him.

The man that always gave you hell.

“What is there to think about?”

You challenged his words.

You didn’t expect Jeno to answer so quickly. On the contrary, the world was still in slow motion as he lowered his head to your level, leaning in further.

“I could corrupt you…and you would thank me for it.”

Your hand clenched your key card so hard that it felt like it was leaving permanent indentations in your palms. Your stomach felt like it dropped to the floor. Jeno’s eyelids fluttered close, covering his pitch black irises.

His pride would be the death of him.

The only action that seemed right in this tortuous game of fight or flight was flight.

Your head turned at just the right moment before his lips made contact with yours, his nose grazing your cheek in the process.

There wasn’t an explanation for why you denied the kiss. Judging by the way he sighed, you figured he was forever done with you.

He stepped back, swiping his thumb along his nose.

You told yourself that you wouldn’t collapse like last time. You would hold your ground and leave him be.

He walked away, like it was nothing. Like you were nothing.

In a daze, you used your key card to unlock your door. There was still a bit of determination left in you to freshen up after being drenched in rain for the past hour.

If you only knew that Jeno would never let you go now.

He’d never been rejected before.

A part of him knew that you would turn your head away from him, but seeing it in real time confirmed that you were different.

This was the first time he ever held his head down in shame. Maybe he did when he was younger but of course he couldn’t recall that.

He felt lost. He needed to gain that control over you again. There just wasn’t another window of opportunity he could imagine besides right now.

By the time Jeno made it outside, there was something inside him that told him to go back up and knock on your door. He twirled his folded umbrella at his hip, opting to let the raindrops cover his body and drown his desertion.

With a quick turn of his heel, he power walked back into the lobby and towards the elevator.

It felt nice to finally sit down in your living room. You felt mentally exhausted from tonight's events but you managed to pull enough energy to set your wet clothes up in the bathroom, dry off your body, brush your teeth and put on pajamas.

The rain had finally calmed down but it was still pleasing to see how the last remaining drops fell down the patio door behind your couch.

Your mind was trying hardest not to linger back to Jeno’s attempt at kissing you. There wouldn’t be another chance like that again. But a part of you wondered why you were regretting letting him walk away.

“I don’t know why I can’t stop thinking about you. It pisses me off actually.”

He couldn’t have meant that. It wasn’t plausible. Time and time again he would entertain why you were so uninteresting, so average, so simple.

While scrolling through the streaming service to select a movie, you jumped from hearing two knocks at your door. Luckily, your electric diffuser wasn’t loud enough to drown it out.

You were light on your feet approaching the door, making sure to check through the peephole.

It was Jeno.

The dead giveaway was his suede jacket, but by the looks of it, he looked completely soaked.

He had an umbrella so why wasn’t he using it?

It didn’t take much deliberation in your head on whether or not to open your front door.

Jeno’s head rose from looking at the floor, his slicked back bangs not holding steady anymore due to the rain. The leftover drops on his plump lips caused you to pause mid-swing from opening the door. His umbrella was hung low at his side with the loop handle intertwined in his left hand.

It didn’t seem like he was ready to talk, despite his eyes staring deep into yours.

“Why did you come back?” Your eyes scanned for an answer, but there was only deafening silence. The pause after you spoke seemed to last a few minutes.

You briefly turned to push more of your door open so it wouldn’t close behind you.

Your steps felt way too calculated for what you wanted to do; everything else way too sporadic.

Stepping up to him for once in your life wasn’t as debilitating as you thought it would be. The courage you managed to bring forth, empowered you enough to stand meters away from him.

Jeno didn’t falter. He didn’t step back or curl away. His eyes followed your every move, finally settling at your lips again.

The drop of his umbrella was the last thing you could recall before connecting your lips to his.

#nct dream fanfic #nct dream fanfiction #jeno x reader #jeno x you #jeno smut #nct dream x reader #feedback is appreciated <3

297 notes · View notes

bucknastysbabe · 13 days

Text

THE LAST DAMN THING IM SAYING;

I’d also like to say and make this clear: I’m not friends with Bel and Fae anymore after what I saw posted. That connection is severed. I am still friends with Chris and will remain to be as she is a good person who also fucked up. I was apprehensive about remaining friends when the original post came out considering it was about me— including the purposely left comment by the OP also making fun of me. Which led me back into believing their lies.

I was lied to until the bitter end. I wanted to HOPE until the bitter end everything wasn’t true but I saw the screenshots. About analgate, about being inclusive, and use of slurs. Many other things under the guise of “we made up” so I wanted to trust them.

My gut feeling would switch now and then but I got caught up. I reread the entire gc convo to look at my comments. It’s disgusting to watch yourself become more hateful. That’s a really shitty part of me I worked hard to get rid of in real life through the program of AA.

Somehow I managed to convince myself gossiping and being mean wasn’t so bad online. It is just as awful because people are behind a url. I know better. Now the level of crassness and racism I did not see from them in our small groupchat, as it was being hidden. I have never sent a hate anonymous post, they claimed the same, only to find out that’s all they did and probably did the same to me. Nice.

I seriously fucked up making fun of Agnes appearance due to my dislike getting in the way of doing the next right thing. Which I’m trying to do now. Don’t harass readers or small blogs about me. They are reading about sucking and fucking, not looking into online drama.

The other fuck up I would like to clarify on my behalf. To all Germans— I made tasteless jokes about a German user not liking Fabien Frankel bc of his Jewish heritage. That’s ignorant of me. Very ignorant. Especially as I dated and loved a guy from Berlin for over a year and he even told me that’s a sore spot for them.

Now that sounds like “I have (insert) friends!!!”

But I’m following up to say I still have my OWN unresolved anger at him for our toxic relationship. So I have said “fucking Germans.” For the love of everything good and holy I DO NOT want every person in that country to blow up and die. There’s a difference between vile racism and backward comments coming from a place of hurt. I acknowledge it’s childish and nasty. I also don’t use the word n@z1, but that was clarified in the second post on who said that.

Hope this clears things up. This is the most transparent I can be. I can’t fix any of the hurt I’ve caused. Apologizing like a broken record is annoying— I know. So this is it. I’m staying up. I can only go forward, if you’d like to stay in the past, farewell. For people who are hurt take all the time you need.

#cal rants #last thing #them I’m back to doing what I came here for

12 notes · View notes

theimaginatrix27 · 4 months

Text

I've been in the Star Trek fandom spaces long enough, time to talk publicly about a thing that I am injecting into every fic where it is relevant

So if you've been paying attention to my blog the last couple months, you will know I am a huge fan of @enbygesserit 's work. They write the absolute best Dominion lore and fic I have ever had the pleasure of reading/encountering, and I eat up each new piece like my favourite confectionery.

What I am about to discuss predates any exposure I had to their work by at least thirteen years.

And the ship it surrounds was my DS9 OTP for two entire decades (before I discovered the O'Brien polycule and now my DS9 otp is a "One True Polyamorous tangle", but moving on).

That ship being Kiraodo. My heart broke when Odo confessed his love to an apparently dying Kira, she said she loved him back, and that was the clue for him to realise she was not Kira at all. And then when the Female Changeling Voice of the Link told him Kira would never love him because he was a Changeling, I was a tiny sad twelve-yo who thought, "But I love him!" And then I wanted it to be a thing.

And when I found out it was a thing in canon but they had to part ways at the end of the series, I was happy and sad at the same time.

I was a teenager, I didn't know the relationship felt awkward to some (though to be fair I still hated Children of Time and what the alternate/Gaia Odo did, but I address that in another fic so it's fine). I just wanted the sad Changeling and the fiery Bajoran to prove the mean Changeling wrong.

But also, I acknowledged to myself, even in 2009-10, that it would not be fair to Odo at all to make him leave his people again so quickly. I felt sympathetic toward the Changelings/Founders even as a teenager who had not and would not see DS9 in its entirety (curse you, cable TV! You with your reruns and exorbitant prices making it so hard for us to keep you for more than a few months at a time!) Anyways, I knew even then that I didn't want to take Odo away from his people again, even for him and Kira to be together.

So what was my solution?

Here were the canon points I considered at age nineteen (I was creating the bare bones of the Galactic Warp AU at the time and also had a strict must-adhere-to-canon policy for any fanfic ideas I'd had at the time):

The Great Link turned Odo into a solid.

The baby Changeling in The Begotten turned him back, at the cost of its life (but maybe not if it hadn't already been dying).

Therefore, it is canonically possible for a solid to become a Changeling.

What if Kira had been Changelinged?

WHY IS THAT NOT CANON?

I have this as a significant plot point in any Kiraodo content I'm going to write, so if you see Kiraodo becoming a thing in any fic, expect to see Changeling Kira show up somewhere.

"But wait!" someone yells. "You just said you didn't want to take Odo from his people, and Kira's Bajoranness is a huge part of her identity! And you're gonna just take that away from her?"

No, actually. You think the Prophets give a shit whether or not Kira's corporeal form is solid? Fuck no, they're not corporeal and time is not linear for them! The Kira is always the Kira. The Kira is always of Bajor. The Kira is always beloved of the Prophets.

This holds true in every single fic in which I have inserted this. Kira doesn't always become a Changeling full time (some of my AUs have magic), but more importantly, She never stops being Bajoran in the ways that really matter.

Which, if this had been a canon episode, would have been emphasised by the Prophets themselves and I am not taking critique on this.

"But the Founders would never do this in canon!" I hear you cry. "They hate solids and the Voice doesn't like Kira especially!"

First of all, the convoluted love triangle between Odo, Kira and the Voice was stupid.

Second of all, it doesn't even have to be them who do it, we got other more powerful entities around! Q was basically banned from DS9, sure, but what if Kira and Odo weren't on DS9?

Here's my idea for how this could have happened in canon, if the writers had really wanted to sell us the ship.

Odo and Kira have been away on a mission together (doesn't matter where, they just have to be off the station). It's sometime in Season 6, post the Dominion occupation of DS9. When the runabout returns, Odo coms the station and says he needs to give them warning about something, and they're going to have to take him at his word, however hard that may be.

"What's wrong?" Sisko asks. "And where's Major Kira?"

In response, Odo holds up his bucket. There is a Changeling in goo form inside.

"There was an—incident while we were returning from our mission. It was successful, by the way."

Sisko stares at the screen intently for a moment.

"Are you saying," he asks slowly, "that Major Kira was replaced by a Changeling?"

"No, Captain," Odo responds. "I am saying this Changeling is Major Kira."

Cue opening theme!

And possibly this would be a two-parter! I feel that with the whole theme of DS9 being nuance, and with the Dominion being such a big deal, it deserves to be!

Basically the plot would first involve a flashback to Q popping in while Kira and Odo are arguing about something Changeling-related or whatever, going "You know, I've been watching you and yours for a while now—from a safe distance of course—and frankly, I've been surprised by the lack of nuance with regard to the Founders."

And Kira's all, "Oh come on, don't you start with this high-and-mighty attitude! I read all the records about you after your last visit to Deep Space 9, you don't have any room to talk!"

"And neither do you," Q fires back. "You think your terrible acts were justified, don't you? Oh, you know they were dreadful, the fact that you could be so violent distressed you so! But when it comes down to it, you can sleep at night, because you helped drive out the Cardassians and set Bajor free. But when the Dominion imposes their order on their part of the galaxy because they used to be oppressed and were traumatised, you sit there on what moral high ground you have and pass judgment on them!"

"I don't need to hear this! Especially not from you! Sisko made you stay away from the station—from us! Now get off this runabout and leave us alone."

"Oh, you do need to hear it, Nerys. But if you insist on me leaving, let me do so on my terms. Don't worry, my little firework, I'll make sure you don't need my help undoing this." And he snaps his fingers and disappears.

And Kira's form begins to melt and she barely has time to call Odo's name before she dissolves into Changeling goo.

Back on DS9, everyone's a bit frantic after seeing the runabout footage, which confirms Odo's story. He links with her and is able to help her reform after a little time, during which we get to hear panicked Kira thoughts and some cool visuals of what the link is like for her. We get a scene after she's able to shift back into herself where Jadzia quips that she's got purple hair and Cardassian neck ridges or something, which is not amusing to her at all.

Then there's a whole discussion on how they're going to fix her before the rest of the Federation finds out, because "Are they going to believe the testimony of one rogue Changeling and the footage from a runabout computer? What if they decide Kira's a threat and take her into custody?"

And the answer is pretty obvious, especially after Julian examines a sample of her matrix and discovers traces of her dna are still in it.

They have to take her to the Great Link so she can be restored to solidity. The Founders are rather good at genetic manipulation, after all. It'll be fine!

Except they're at war, and the Voice does not like Kira, which forms the majority of the conflict, as they have to convince any Dominion forces they meet that "Seriously, we are not here to fight, please don't blow us up, we just want to help our friend, yes we mean it, don't fire!"

And in the end Kira has to pretend to be a Founder just to get the various ships to leave them alone, and it's weird as fuck for her but she makes it to the Great Link and the Voice is there and doesn't believe her at first until they link and she gets proof from her memories.

Which leads to Kira finding out about the morphogenic virus early, and being incensed, because "Look, I don't like you, but that's crossing multiple lines! I'd never have signed off on that if it were up to me, and I know Sisko wouldn't either! Doctor Bashir's brilliant—he can help you, I'm sure of it."

"Even if we did not help you right away?"

"I can wait, if I have to. I'm kind of getting used to this whole thing. It's been—an interesting experience."

And after another link to confirm that yes, she means that and it's not even in a bad way, the Voice consents to help her regain her solid status and she goes into the Great Link, gets a small taste of the Founders' collective trauma and is deeply moved by it, bursting into tears when she emerges, once more humanoid. There's a whole final scene about how she wishes more people in the Federation could have experienced what she did, and then she goes to write a log entry on the whole thing or something.

But this would absolutely change the trajectory of the war because that's how DS9 works, so it wouldn't just be handwaved away. in subsequent episodes, Julian is able to find a cure—possibly with help from within the Dominion itself because the Founders would very much like to not die and Julian is being Julian at them and they're taking a real liking to him.

And the galaxy is saved because Q did a thing! But also Kira understands Odo better after this and their relationship is all the richer for it.

*Starts chanting* It should've been canon, it should've been canon, it should've been canon, IT SHOULD'VE BEEN CANON!

#Kiraodo #Dominion Tag #Changeling Kira #IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN CANON DAMN IT!

13 notes · View notes

booburry · 1 year

Text

Aesop Sharp Bodyguard Fic?

Classic writers block: Brain refuses to function for current WIP's but loooooooves creating and obsessing about NEW and SHINY things. *grumble*

Anywhooo, thought I may share a small snippet of what I have. Wanted to try my hand at a first person fic, but I did create an OC so it's not quite a reader insert.

Defs NSFW, like usual...but this time with a more vulgar narrator than my other work.

Summary: Aesop Sharp finds himself no longer employed by the ministry and in a desperate need to access the most precious and hard sought information on curses and their cures. There were two places he could think to obtain this information, and two job offers to match. A teaching position at Hogwarts OR personal body guard to Sylvia Gaunt, the eldest daughter of the esteemed Gaunt family.

I am Sylvia Gaunt:

I am 24 years old, born in 1859. I am the second eldest sibling of the Guant family, second to Marvolo who I have a distinct distaste for.

I grew up hating my family, and still very much do with the exception of my little brother Ominis; who I fear for greatly as he was sadly afflicted with a kind heart as myself. However, unlike Ominis, I was easy and willing to break.

I greatly feel powerless in the world I am surrounded in, never having a choice beyond the life ahead of me that is chosen by my heritage, family name, or parents.

My greatest pleasure’s in life is indulging in my vices, mostly sex. Feeling wanted, feeling powerful and in control—it was the closet feeling to love and safety I would ever know. It also put a smudge on my family name, my whorish reputation, and that brought me more pleasure than any cocks or cunts could.

In a plot to ensure I act more modest, to prepare me for a life of marriage to my eldest brother; ‘we need to keep the bloodline pure’, so my parent’s claim. The idea disgusted me and every day I wished they would just move on from the idea, but my brother seemed transfixed on the idea and they would do anything for their prized boy.

Besides Ominis, there was only one person in my life who managed to bring some light into this dark, depraved and depressing life of mine. Mr. Sharp, for the short while he was in it, he made quite the impact. But, like this story, not all things have a happy ending.

The fool…I had warned him.

Chapter 1:

“The matter is final.” Father’s tone was pointed enough that I knew I was a few more protests away from being cursed.

This wasn’t a battle worth enduring that punishment.

“Thank you, Father. I feel loved by how concerned you are for my safety and well being.” I said as forcefully sweet as I could, knowing fully that my words were an obvious lie no matter how they were spoken.

Father just grimaced before storming out of my bedroom, leaving my handmaidens to return to the task of getting me ready for the evening’s party. The moment I knew he was out of earshot, I let out a long, exasperated, groan.

“I don’t need a personal bodyguard. It’s ridiculous.” I hissed as a I fell into the chair in front of my vanity mirror. Hilda and Mathilda, my two personal servants, immediately at my side. “Hasn’t he learned from the last dozen that they never last and aren’t required?” I asked to the mirror, looking at the reflection of the two of them, expecting nothing but an agreement in response.

Hilda and Mathilda eagerly nodded, not daring speak any words out loud against the head of the Gaunt family. I couldn’t blame them for that—few were brave enough to attempt it and live to talk about it. I just sat back in my annoyance, determined to think of a way to get rid of this new bodyguard.

Normally the two maids just mumble on about nonsense as they worked on her; fashion, single men looking for a wife, or any bullshit my father wanted me to hear about. However…today, they could be of better use to me. I smiled widely as I admired my reflection, pleased with the view and my wit. They would give me some information before they began to bore me with their usual conversation.

“Have you heard anything about him?” I questioned in a soft, aloof, tone. I wanted to appear non-threatening, so that they wouldn’t just feed me information to please me; Hilda may not but Mathilda was nothing but a dimwitted whore who my father fucked in ‘secret’. I continued to watch myself in the mirror, ensuring to act self centered while watching their reactions closely.

“Not too much, other than he’s handsome.” Matilda enthusiastically informed as they delicately brushed my hair and applied lotion to my skin—I never liked to feel dry when being rubbed between strangers bodies. Although I wasn’t entirely displeased with her information—so long as it was true—I didn’t expect much else from her.

If I was going to be stuck with a man constantly watching me, he could at least be pleasant on the eyes.

“He’s an ex-Auror.” Hilda offered, her eyes watching me hungrily, eager to please—she was always my favorite. I reached out a soft hand to gently rub Hilda’s thigh, to let her know she was doing well.

“Anything else you know, my pretty thing?” I asked her while watching her in the mirror, a sickly-sweet smile forced upon my lips.

“Mr. Sharp injured himself on the job, rumor has it that he is trying to find a cure. Apparently his job was dealing with smugglers and dark wizards. I heard your father takes great pride to have such a person under his employment now.” I smiled—of course he would. My father wouldn’t care the risk of the ministry, as he would have more ties to it and ways to influence the institution than any ex-Auror could. However, for an Auror to stoop so low as to be employed for a family such as ours must mean we have something he desperately needs.

I had the information I needed.

“Thank you Hildy—promise to make it up to you.” I winked at her, enjoying the blush it brought to her cheeks while thinking of how red her others would be once I am through with her. “Now, let’s make sure I make a good first impression, shall we ladies?”

I smiled, honestly for the first time this evening. This ‘Mr. Sharp’ would be fun to play with.

While he lasted.

~~~

I stared at the brooding, expressionless, might-as-well-be-a-statue, man across from me with a heavy sigh.

“For an ex-Auror, you don’t exactly exude excitement.” He just looked at me before returning his gaze to the window to peer at their surroundings. I felt myself huff in annoyance—I never liked being ignored.

“And here I thought we were enjoying each other’s company.” He dryly retorted while adjusting himself within his seat.

“Your company is not the one I wish to enjoy.” I used my own digging tone, ensuring to sound dismissive and uninterested. I mean…I was uninterested, despite something pulling my attention towards the grouchy old man. It was perplexing, and annoying, but at least Mathilda had been right; he was handsome.

I would have to give her some praise as well.

“So I have heard.” His attention turned to me, his eyes piercing and intelligent. I couldn’t help but smirk and raise an eyebrow. I knew the only reputation I had, and I swore there seemed to be some life breathed into the statuesque ex-Auror when he had to reference my depraved reputation as well.

“Have you now?” I purred, already turned on knowing what awaited me at this party, yet feeling it ignite as I watched him torment himself for what he obviously was thinking. “You know what happens at these parties? At least with me?” I dropped my tone, winking at him as I brought my wand to my dress. “People are free to watch if they don’t want to partake.”

I had ensured to know this transfiguration spell without having to mutter the words. The amount of times I had to do this while walking into the entrance of the manor was astounding, and quickly became something of an urgent need. Slowly the spell removed the modest fabric that suffocated my body to become a revealing, almost non-existent, practically see-through, dress; that hugged all of my curves perfectly. I could see his eyes snap to me, unable to look away, unable to blink. Smiling, I raised a leg so that the slit parted enough that my pretty pussy would be in his direct view.

“Or would you want a taste now, hmn?” I taunted, my smile turning into a sneer. “Put this little rich bratty bitch in her place?” I could see his breath still as he stared briefly at my cunt before tearing his eyes away.

I audibly pouted, bringing my leg down with a loud stomp.

“I see my father found a man with morals.” I commented with disgust as the carriage stopped, sad that my easy way to get rid of Mr. Sharp was fouled. However, I was reassured that I would succeed in the long run. “Don’t worry, I will break you soon enough.” I kindly threatened, a pleasant and honest smile on my face, as I took the free hand available to me to assist me getting out of the carriage.

I did not wait for him to follow, nor did I look behind for him, as I was sure he would be there. I also did not care to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was on my mind.

It, surely, was only because I was plotting his end.

I shook my head, trying to release the thoughts of my newly appointed babysitter. Instead, I looked to the doors of the manor ahead, bright light pressing against the dark stained glass, excitement building within me. No matter how Mr. Sharp intended to spoil my night, as I was sure that was why my father enlisted him today specifically, I would still be able to get away with something.

And anytime I could bring disgrace to the Gaunt name excited me the most; I honestly get wet at just the thought of it.

The doors opened as I was about to enter, Pierre greeting me enthusiastically.

“Welcome my love.” He called everyone that, however he always said it with a bit more endearment towards me—at least that’s how I always heard it and I am sure nobody, not even Pierre, could convince me otherwise.

Pierre hugged me fiercely, grabbing at my flesh as his lips came to mine; hungry.

“Oh, I cannot wait to fuck you tonight, my darling. I have been waiting to taste that pretty little cunt of yours.” He smiled, his mustache tickling my face. I was about to respond when I heard a harsh, curt, audible clearing of a throat from behind me.

“Unfortunately, that may not happen.” I informed Pierre with a pained smile, pushing him away as I turned to look at Mr. Sharp. “A gift from my father.” I added, glancing back at the orchestrator of this here extravaganza. I quickly glanced around me to take in the beautiful view of people dancing, drinking, and fucking openly. Curious, I looked to Mr. Sharp to see he was taking in the same splendid scenery but with a much more…distasteful expression.

I felt myself linger too long in that look, and that I, also, took too much pleasure in that expression of his; it brought an urgent, almost violent, need to look elsewhere. My eyes fell to Pierre, who seemed to regard Mr. Sharp in the same way as I had.

“Not that kind of gift.” I warned, knowing very well what Pierre intended to do behind that stare. “When have you known my father to send such a thing?” I asked him credulously and in monotone. Pierre just smirked at me, cupping my chin lightly.

“He sends you.” He purred, bringing his face closer to mine before the two of us were physically removed apart by Sharp. I just shook my head in disbelief before giving a pleading glance to Pierre; immediately something came to mind. I gave a short, forced, laugh.

“Where are my manners. Mr. Sharp, this is Pierre Lovelace, the organizer of this here event; Pierre’s Petting Palace.” I smirked as he grimaced at the name. “He always insists on giving new guests the ‘Grand Tour’.”

“I don’t—” Mr. Sharp began to say before getting swept up by Pierre and his many female companions, guiding him far away from me. I smiled with a sweet sense of revenge as Mr. Sharp glanced back at me, absolutely furious. Wanting to send him over the edge, I bit my lip and blew him a kiss. His face went red with rage as his lips pursed, in a way that reminded me of the carriage for a short moment.

As a nice farewell, for I knew I wouldn’t see him for at least a few hours, a flashed him one sweet look of what laid between my legs—something about the calm fury he looked at me with sent shivers down my spine.

I turned, smiling, as I walked to one of the rooms Pierre normally excluded from the tour’s he gave, greatly hoping that there would be other’s already partaking in what I came for.

I was so excited, I practically took my dress off before walking into the room.

~~~

“Enough of this!” Mr. Sharp’s voice boomed into the room, much earlier than I wanted yet later than I expected. I moved my face to be able to look to see his reaction, eager to know if he still held that vexing anger, and to see how he would react to seeing four men stuffing their cocks within me.

He stood still, mouth agape as he looked at me on this oversized bed, one man under me, one man over me, another between my legs and the last, desperately, trying to shove his dick back into my mouth. I smiled, my eyes locked to Mr. Sharp, as I slowly wrapped my tongue around the head of this strangers cock, guiding it into my throat.

Mr. Sharp watched with a twisted look of intrigue and disgust as the other three men returned to fucking me; a few others eagerly awaiting their turn.

“We will be returning.” He told me, taking a menacing step forwards but I just shook my lead lightly, removing the cock that was in my mouth to the displeasure of the owner.

“Careful Mr. Sharp,” I warned as a mindfully stroked the cock poking my cheek, “take a step closer and they may think you are here to partake.” It seemed my words pushed him over his prudish barrier, as he quickly brandished his wand and I knew, at that point, my fun was over. “Out, out.” I ordered the men, meaning for them to get out of me, not the room.

I scowled at Mr. Sharp as I walked towards him.

“There are three rules of this establishment, I assume you weren’t listening to Pierre, but they are this. One. Always ensure it’s consensual. Two. Always ensure it’s pleasurable, and three…” I reached out and lowered to tip of Mr. Sharp’s wooden stick. “No. Wands.” I glanced back at the nervous, masked, and naked men that had just previously been so confidently thrusting into me, before looking back at Mr. Sharp; who I noticed regarded the same individuals. “They are not as confident as I to let the world know who they are—many are fearful that some prudish individual, such as yourself, would out them in the world outside this manor. Let them have their peace.” I instructed as I walked past Mr. Sharp, grabbing the dress I had so casually tossed aside, preparing to leave.

#aesop sharp #professor aesop sharp #fan fic writing #first person writing #Ominis Gaunt #Aesop Sharp as your person body guard #Aesop Sharp as a total cockblock #aesop sharp smut #smutty writing #booburry writes

10 notes · View notes

frasermints · 9 months

Note

For the ask game, every multiple of 5.

bestie that's so many

5: what does your latest text from someone else say?

"This robot is trying so hard" in response to a youtube shorts link i sent

10: when is the last time you played the air guitar?

people actually do this??

15: do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

behind. always. i fucking hate getting my picture taken. froggie can attest to this after she made me get after i got BeReal

20: what is your greatest weakness; greatest strength?

damn we're going with the serious ones tonight aren't we? i like to think that, in face-to-face irl situations, i'm a good listener. i just fucking suck at responding. especially after my covid infection, i can't brain-to-mouth words anymore. the edit feature on imessage has helped this significantly since 99% of my interactions happen over that text platform but hooooooly shit i'm so bad at speaking

25: do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

i really like facetime but i fucking HATE looking at myself in the little window so i'll usually point it directly at my ceiling unless it's with One Specific Friend, mostly bc she's already seen me naked so her seeing me at Not My Best isn't a big deal and also like. idk i just fucking Hate My Face lol

30: stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? do the same with your left.

since i'm in bed and the only thing to my right is... the air. pumpkin is directly in FRONT of my right arm so i'll go with that. my phone is in front of my left arm.

35: to you, what is the meaning of life?

dude i don't even know. fuck around and find out. see more than twelve thousand trees. don't tell your friends they do too much yoga. own a cat. have at least one sex-induced medical emergency. confuse a seagull for an eagle when you're high as shit and get laughed at for it. drink a truly on the beach and watch the tide come in. eat so many cherries you shit yourself forty five minutes later and don't regret a single second of it. buy all of the notebooks you see in the bookstore and don't write in any of them. sleep outside when it's warm enough. take care of a houseplant. go far enough away from the city to actually SEE the stars. work with children. cry because of a dumb movie. breathe.

40: do you drive? if so, have you ever crashed?

yes: coming home from the seattle/tacoma metro area i got hit by someone going 90mph (145 kph) on the interstate. genuinely thought i was fish food that day.

45: what's the worst injury you've ever had?

probably the time i attempted rifle and caught it w/ my skull instead of my hands.

50: do you believe in magic?

55: love or lust?

insert "why not both" gif

60: is there anything pink within ten feet of you?

yes, a couple things. a couple of bowls, a bag of potting soil, my sharps containers, some animal shaped erasers, a solid 50% of my sex toys are pink for some reason.

65: top five favorite blogs on tumblr?

peach, froggie, lou, steph, and vati

70: are you the kind of friend that you would want to have as a friend?

i would choke me out without hesitation i do not understand how froggie tolerates me to be honest with you

75: what are the last four digits of your phone #

what are you a cop???

80: what size shoes do you wear

i don't know bc it's changed since i've started t and now none of my shoes fit

85: what's the last song you listened to?

i wanna get better by bleachers (title of my current wip comes from this song!)

90: you wake up to find that you're surrounded by mummies. they aren't doing anything, just standing around your bed. what do you do?

assume i'm dreaming and try to go back to bed

95: you just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. you have to depart right now. where are you going to go?

do i HAVE to??? i don't have a passport and i don't like airports :(

#asks #answered #anonymous #my post

4 notes · View notes

destielshippingnews · 1 year

Text

Edvard's Supernatural Guide: 2x10 Hunted

This episode is Raelle Tucker’s second solo script for the show, and while it is not terrible, it is not her best work. Miles better than her erstwhile co-writer Sera Gamble’s lamentable soap-opera offering 2x17 Heart, but falling far short of 2x20 What Is and What Should Never Be. Funnily enough, the thing I like most about Raelle Tucker’s scripts seems to be the weak point of this episode: she is a Dean girl. Her portrayal of Dean in this episode is spot on, but the way she wrote Sam made him seem like an utter dunderhead.

Let us begin near the beginning of the episode with Dean’s revelation to Sam that John told him he might have to kill Sam. Sam’s reaction to this news is exactly what I would expect from him. As has been eloquently displayed, Sam is a master at making everything about himself and whining about it, so of course he would not even see the fact that Dean’s own father has burdened him with not only murder, but fratricide – one of the gravest sins in almost all cultures. This is all in character for Sam, a guy who likes to think he is doing good but forgets that the road to Hell is paved with ignoring Dean good intentions. Sam himself knows that there is something ‘wrong’ with him, that his visions are portents of something much worse, and he still shoots the messenger. Fine, whatever, nothing new here.

youtube

Sam abandoning Dean and running away in the middle of the night ‘to find answers about himself’ was similarly stupid, especially considering he knows at this point that people like Gordon are after him, as are Azazel and co. What could have happened here to make Sam seem much more mature, thoughtful, and actually respectful of his brother, would have been for him to say to Dean:

‘I don’t want to be around you at the moment. I know this is hard for you, and I know how much you’ve always done for me, but knowing what Dad told you has made me wonder whether I’m safe being near you. I’ve been watching you getting more violent and scary for months, and a few days ago you seemed to have no problem killing people who might have been infected. You’ve already killed innocents: remember Meg and her brother’s hosts? I do. I hate having to leave you, but I don’t know how much longer I’ll be safe around you. If I go to sleep in the same room as you, am I going to wake up with your gun pointed at me? I can’t take that risk, Dean. And I don’t think seeing the man Dad told you to kill every day is doing you any good. I’m sorry. Go to Bobby, or Ellen. But I can’t be around you at the moment.’

That would have been respectable and adult. It would have been like Buffy choosing to not have Angel in her life rather than continuing with their messy, doomed relationship. Given Dean’s behaviour and Sam’s fear of and for him over the last ten episodes, this would be perfectly understandable. What we got, however, was something quite different. Sam simply left Dean, and gave his reason to Ellen as ‘I have to find out about myself and Dean can’t protect me from that.’ In other words, since Dean cannot protect Sam in Sam’s estimations, Dean is useless and Sam does not need him. Paula R. Stiles worded it thusly:

When Ellen tells him she has to call Dean, Sam whines that he has “to find answers” and Dean can’t “protect” him from that. The self-centered, utilitarian view Sam has of Dean in this episode (He only wants Dean around when he needs him for something) is stunning. I’d forgotten how far into the episode it went.

Sam is supposed to be intelligent, caring, and heroic. This is what The Show tells us over and over again, but Kripke’s self-insert really is just an overgrown teenager. Please do not misunderstand: he is young and even if he were not, people are allowed to make mistakes and occasionally be selfish, silly, and stupid. The problem with Sam is that it is a good day if he is not any of those things. His motivation for leaving Dean had nothing to do with Dean’s recent behaviour and everything to do with 'finding out who he is'.

But even given Dean’s behaviour, I felt so sad for him. He is the one burdened with his entire moral framework being shattered after losing his father and being resurrected. He is the one showing serious signs of being driven towards ‘evil’. And he is the one abandoned, rejected, yet struggling with all his might to not become the monster he has to become.

As if Sam’s self-centred nocturnal abandonment of him were not enough, his instantaneous reaction to hearing that Dean might have to kill him is to attack Dean. Constant Readers may well remember my referring to Dean as John and Sam’s ’cat’ (and Missouri Moseley’s dog whom she would not stop kicking): people will sometimes kick the family cat in anger instead of lashing out at the person who angered them, and they do so because they know the cat cannot kick back. John did this to Dean in 1x20 Dead Man’s Blood, and Sam does it to Dean whenever he gets the chance. 1x08 Bugs, for example, with his ’cum ’n ’av a go if ye fink ye’re ’ard enuff’ act when Dean took issue with Sam bitching about him to strangers. Sam’s behaviour in this scene with his blatant aggression towards Dean, and his threat that ’you might have to waste me [because otherwise I’m gonna batter you]’ smacked of knowing full well he can treat Dean as badly as he likes with impunity.

Worse still, Dean allows it. He wastes no time whatsoever in taking all the blame and guilt Sam hurls at him, and confesses he ’deserves it’. Even this early in the show, it makes me very sad to see this because this is 100% true to life codependent behaviour. If you want evidence of a child who has been treated horrifically, here is some right here. If Dean can absolve others of any blame by taking it all on himself, then he can perhaps avoid punishments such as being shouted at or beaten: if he abases himself and crawls in the muck for other people, they might let him be. Clearly he has learnt that such behaviour is necessary in maintaining relationships with John and Sam. Only with Cas does he refuse to take on all guilt (at least all of the time), but that does not stop Cas ultimately letting Dean take all the blame for their fall out between 14x18 Absence and 15x10 The Trap.

This never stops with Dean, and it makes me sad. In this scene, he is clearly trying his hardest to maintain the only relationship he has with anybody, but to do so he must allow himself to be attacked and blame himself for it.

As much as I write this, I am aware that some readers will not ’see this’, and all I can say is: I am glad it is invisible to you. The thing about abusive behaviour and poisonous relationships is that they are often invisible to people who have no experience of them. They are the real-world equivalent of monsters: the fact you cannot see them does not mean people are not fighting them.

It is understandable that Sam be angry, but not that he direct it at Dean. I would have been over the moon if Dean had punched Sam in the face and pushed him into the river for acting like that. Especially galling was Sam’s ’Take some responsibility for yourself, Dean’, which stank of an immature little boy trying to talk big but exposing his own arse by doing so. Think of all the responsibility Sam has not taken for himself, like for example him being to blame for Dean’s taking the fall for shifter!Dean’s crimes in 1x06 Skin, or electro!Sam shooting Dean in 1x10 Asylum because it was much easier to blame Den for all his problems that to admit the fact Sam chose to travel across America with Dean. And then there is 1x11 Scarecrow when Sam ran his mouth off to a stranger about his life... Ironic, really.

All of this would be forgivable, mind you, if the show were not so adamant of absolving Sam of all responsibility, of having other characters treat him like a good boy (Ellen, Bobby, Missouri), and denying Dean the opportunity to get angry at Sam on more than one or two occasions over the whole fifteen year run. The end result is that it looks as though I am supposed to think Sam’s actions are generally good and justified while Dean is in the wrong. Even when Sam is responsible for raising Lucifer, he still tries to pass off the blame to Dean for ’being too controlling and pushing him towards Ruby’, (5x05 Fallen Idols) a claim the show makes no effort to disprove and which Dean humbly accepts.

I just want somebody to give Dean a hug and a big mug of hot chocolate. I think he will have to wait until 15x14 Last Holiday before anything even close to that happens.

Moving swiftly on before series seven Sam’s sideburns distract me too much, this episode shows that though Dean’s overblown, exaggerated archetypical masculine side as represented by Gordon in 2x03 Bloodlust was wounded and momentarily defeated, it is still alive and trying to take over Dean.

Gordon is once again the antagonist in this episode. ’Baddie’ would probably be a more fitting word, but the show ends up proving Gordon to not be completely wrong. It shows Gordon to be pathological in his willingness to believe what one demon told him about somebody he conveniently knows, and his willingness to kill people for what the might one day commit (according to a random demon because demons never lie). He also has a hate on for Sam for turning Dean against him in 2x03 Bloodlust, which likely added to his willingness to believe anything which could justify his killing Sam. Gordon seemed to believe Dean could be a companion for him, but he wanted Dean’s complete, undivided loyalty. For that reason, he sought to turn Dean against Sam and cut him off from his brother in the way that abusive, manipulative, controlling boyfriends and girlfriends do.

Gordon even attempts to convince Dean of the rightfulness and necessity of killing Sam, and apparently believes Dean will see his side and not torture and kill him afterwards.

youtube

It is strange, then, that the show almost proves Gordon’s point right later on, given Sam’s dalliance with Ruby and the apocalyptic consequences thereof. Two things can be true at once, though: Sam is a potential threat at this point in the show, but killing somebody for an innate part of themselves or something they might do is unjustified.

Scott in the cold open is an innocent being tormented by Azazel in order for him to develop his psychic powers and become a ’soldier in the coming war’, a line which sounds nice but had about as much as pay-off as Soldier Boy in The Boys. By which I mean there is none: the Stephen King-adjacent storyline of psykids comes to nothing since all of them bar Sam die by the end of series two, and later revelations of Dean and Sam being the divinely-pedigreed vessels for Michael and Lucifer make that whole plot redundant. Scott, however, was destined to be one of the young people (who are all American because Azazel lacks a passport) forced to fight for a chance to open the gates of Hell and release Satan.

We meet Scott at a counselling session where he reveals he is one of the psychic children with a similar story to Sam: nightmares which began roughly a year ago followed by some kind of power. The counsellor seems unsure whether he believes Scott or not, given he refused to shake his hand, and afterwards Scott gets killed like a gutted fish in a car park. The killer is Gordon, but this is revealed later.

youtube

This happens a month prior to the episode, so perhaps sometimes around episode 2x06 No Exit if we assume that there is roughly a week or so between episodes. Unlike other cold opens involving ESPkids, this one does not turn out to be a vision of Sam’s, and he does not find out about it until after he abandons his brother in the night instead of doing the clever thing and waiting and planning with Dean. His first stop seems to be Harvelle’s Roadhouse in Nebraska, quite a drive away from Oregon (where presumably Dean and Sam had their discussion after 2x09 Croatoan took place there). Here, he is essentially welcomed with open arms and firmly absolved of any wrongdoing or guilt in running away from home like a dumb teenager. The show wants us to think Sam is in danger of becoming evil, but everybody is intent on acting like the sun shines out of his arse and ignoring his bad behaviour.

A prime example of this is presented in this episode as Sam wanders in through the door of Harvelle’s Roadhouse: rather than giving him the excoriation he so sorely deserves after going AWOL whilst Big Things Regarding Kids Like Sam are in motion, Ellen acts almost exactly as she would if the writer (or script editor) thought Sam’s behaviour was good and justified. She gives him a warm smile and speaks in a quiet, soft voice as if she is a mother welcoming her son back home. Ellen enquires as to the nature of the schism between Dean and Sam which Sam deftly deflects, and rather than pushing him on the subject, she conveniently goes along with Sam’s conversation, allowing Sam to refrain from giving an accounting of himself.

Would she have done this if things were the other way around and Dean had abandoned Sam? Almost definitely not, and I am having flashbacks to Missouri Mosely in 1x09 Home. Dean would have been flayed alive, but Sam is practically welcomed with open arms and commiseration. Even after Sam shifts the topic to Jo (whom Sam had a pivotal role in getting into the hunting life. Remember: Sam also neglected to call Ellen and inform her Jo was with them, yet only Dean got the reprimanding), none of the anger she directed at the brothers (one of them in particular) is apparent.

That would have been acceptable to an extent, since he is not her teenage son and it is not her place to reprimand him, but even if his scarpering from the one person most able to protect him from Azazel did not put himself and everybody around him in danger, he has still run away without explanation and let the people in his life fear the worst. In spite of that, he gets not a single sharp word.

As if that were not bad enough, Ellen even gives Sam what amounts to an almost-apology for her behaviour at the end of 2x06 No Exit. Sam is the one in the wrong here, and not only does he get called ’Sweetie’, but he gets the almost-apology which by rights should be Dean’s almost-apology, since he seemed to be the one both Ellen and Jo specifically rejected and drove away at the end of that episode, even though Sam AND Jo were equally to blame for what happened.

Anyway, Sam went to Ellen to get help with finding other psychics like him. Ash searches for people in certain criteria: born in 1983, mother died in a house fire, etc, and manages to call up four results, two of which are dead (Max from 1x14 Nightmare and Scott from the cold open) as well as Andy from 2x05 Simon Said whose adopted mother died in a housefire. Sam decides that since Scott’s death is the most recent (one month prior), he should go to where he died to try to find answers. ...An idea which makes exactly the kind of sense that’s not, but whatever, Sam. I would have gone to find Andy since he is still alive and a possible next target, but Sam is Big Smart so my idea is clearly stupid.

Upon leaving, Ellen tells Sam she will have to call Dean to tell him where Sam is, but Sam requests she not do so. Apparently Sam is going to find out the truth about himself and Dean cannot protect him from that, which makes exactly the kind of sense that’s not, but whatever, Sam. Is this one of those déjà thingies? Anyway, Ellen is apparently a sucker for Sam’s ’puppy dog’ act because she agrees to acquiesce to his request. Personally, I want to cut his fringe off and tell him to stop shaving so closely whenever he tries that face.

Why Ellen did not ring Dean while Ash was doing his thing is beyond me. Sam would not have been happy, but what would he have done to stop her? Assaulted her in a bar full of other hunters? Good luck. Sam would have had to wait around if he wanted his information anyway, so that would have been a smart move. Why she did not ring Dean directly after Sam departed is also beyond my ken: if she is supposed to be a mother hen character, she should do some mother henning and make sure her hens are safe. Sam is safer with Dean than without, whatever Sam’s misgivings may be, so wherefore the lack of henning?

Plot convenience. And treating Sam like Mummy’s Special Little Boy. What else would be appropriate for Kripke’s s Oh-So-Sensitive self-insert? Gross. Sam’s a perfect example of spare the rod, spoil the child.

But speaking of children, Sam’s tendency to run away is likely connected to his need for control over other people, particularly Dean. If he is in control he feels he can minimise potential risk to himself, a trait apparently common among people whose childhoods were characterised by instability, neglect, and abuse. It is a truism that abused children may come to embody the worst aspects of their parents, but such is the nature of trauma: it is often passed from one person to the next like a disease. John abused his children, mainly Dean, but Sam was there too and he suffered instability, neglect, and a lack of control and direction. In order to give himself a feeling of stability and control over his life, he appears to try his hardest to exert control over those nearest to him – namely Dean. If he cannot do this, his instinct seems to be to run away.

People call Dean emotionally repressed because he does not talk about his feelings and ’lies about being ’fine’, but Dean’s problem is that while he mostly understands what he is feeling, he does not have the support or tools to process things properly, wherefor his reliance on hunting as catharsis and alcohol as a painkiller. However, he does not run from his issues (mostly): he just locks them in the room next door. Sam on the other hand talks about other people’s emotions but rarely talks about his own, and appears to be much worse at running from them than Dean is.

Apropos running, Sam’s flight from Dean leads him to Lafayette, Indiana where Scott is buried. Sam interviews Scott’s father and investigates Scott’s bedroom which is home to video tapes, cassette tapes, and novels which look like they were probably taken from Eric Kripke’s bedroom in the 1980s or early 1990s. Further investigation reveals that the wall of Scott’s closet is plastered with pictures of yellow eyes taken from magazines.

Following this, Sam receives company at his motel in the form of Ava, a psychic who had a vision of Sam exploding. She explains that she had visions of Scott’s death but thought they were just dreams until she saw a report of his death in the newspaper. After that, she tracked Sam down by searching for the name of the motel she saw on the notepad Sam used. Clever girl. Shame she will not be around for long, but still.

The actress Katherine Isabelle played Margot Verger in Hannibal (2013), as well as one of the leads in Ginger Snaps (2000) alongside Emily Perkins who will appear several times in Supernatural as Becky Rosen, the fangirl who essentially roofied Sam, tried to marry him, then tied him to a bed when the spell stopped working. Oh, and we were probably supposed to be laughing at that. At least her final appearance in 15x04 Atomic Monsters is much more grown up and socially conscious.

Returning to the episode at hand, Paula R. Stiles concluded that Azazel sent Ava the vision in order for her to prevent Sam getting killed (or at least, that is her interpretation of what the episode must be about to make sense), but if that was the case, why did Azazel not just kill Gordon? Unless it was a test or whether Sam would kill Gordon, or whether Dean would kill Gordon. That is getting into the realm of speculation once again, though, so I will leave it there.

Ellen eventually decides to call Dean, though it is unclear how much time has passed since Sam left. If the Roadhouse is in Nebraska and Sam is in Indiana, that would take a fair few hours of driving. 650 miles by road separate the state capitals of Lincoln and Indianapolis, but the location of the Roadhouse in Nebraska is not clarified, so it could be a few hundred miles farther if the Roadhouse is in the west of the state. However it may be, it appears the journey would take something like ten hours, so it must be the next day at least when Ellen rings Dean. Some pseudophilosophical preamble about ’not always being able to protect your loved ones’ is followed by Ellen spilling Sam’s whereabouts to Dean.

And speaking of Dean, I noticed Jensen’s unusual pronunciation of s while watching 1x15 The Benders last year. I had seen people mocking the way he talks before and never understood what they were talking about, but now I have actually noticed it, I am seriously casting negative judgement on people for making fun of it.

It is not a speech impediment because his speech is fine, but there is something about his s sounds at the end of a word in particular which strikes me as unusual in English. It is definitely not a sh sound, but it is a bit thicker sounding than a usual s. It is almost a palatalised sound like in Estonian, Karelian, or Russian. As well as that, he often does not turn his s into a z at the end of words like native English speakers usually do with words like dogs (normally pronounced dogz) and please (usually pronounced pleaz). Jensen’s please often rhymes with fleece, and his dogs is often pronounced with his unusual s, not a normal z. He also says cars with an s at the end, not a z. I have no idea whether this is an idiosyncracy of his, the remnants of a speech impediment, or a feature of the English spoken in his region of Texas. Now I have pinpointed it, I can hear it everywhere ranging from his work on Days of Our Lives and Dark Angel to the voiceover on The Winchesters and his performance in Big Sky. Valentine’s Day is approaching, and with it my yearly ritual of watching My Bloody Valentine 3D, so I will be listening out for it then.

youtube

Hello, I have been studying languages and linguistics for almost two decades, pleased to make your acquaintance. And now back to our regularly-scheduled broadcast...

Sam enlists Ava’s help in getting hold of Scott’s file from his counsellor (which involves Ava squirming as she tries to act like she belongs there and Sam being an idiot and climbing around on the side of what looks like quite a tall building). They later listen to the recording of Scott’s final session together in the motel room, and this raises the topic of Azazel and psychic children. Sam tries to explain the Yellow-Eyed Demon, psychic children, and ’the coming war’ to Ava, but she understandably thinks he is a weirdo talking a load of codswallop.

Returning to the subject of ambiguous passage of time, it is unclear how long it took Dean to reach Indiana, but he rolls up outside in his noisy, rumbling car which Sam appears not to notice at all. Dean sees his brother and Ava through the window, but rather than going into the room and giving Sam the stern talking to he deserves for being a melodramatic pantaloon, he is content to sit outside in the car assuming that Sam and Ava have engaged in coitus, or are soon to do so.

This makes sense, of course, because Sam in no way deserves a stiff reprimand for his behaviour in this episode. Even the man Sam hurt the most with his actions is not allowed to to be angry at him in this episode. Raelle Tucker, I am surprised. Or was this a script editor decision? Raelle did so well with 2x20 What Is and What Should Never Be.

Enter Gordon and the beginning of a fight scene which in all honesty is a bit naff. Other than Alec X5-494 once more momentarily taking control of Jensen to reset Gordon’s brain with a nasty-looking kick to the head, it is a little silly.

Nobody in the motel seems to hear either the motel window shattering, the gunshots (which were not that quiet), or two grown men whaling on each other across the street.

Dean’s Alec’s kick to Gordon’s head should have done some serious damage and put him at a considerable disadvantage in his fight with Dean Alec, but apparently his head is so thick that Dean’s Alec’s kick did not stun him at all. Neither does Dean Alec punching him in the head following said kick do much more than make his mouth bleed a bit. Luckily for Gordon, Dean and Alec’s vessel’s skull is much more fragile than his, meaning that a blow to the head with the butt of Gordon’s rifle is enough to knock it out cold.

Alas, that meant that Alec was once more driven back to the recesses of Dean’s vessel’s consciousness where, alack, he shall remain for a long while. I love Firefly to bits, but the reason series three of Dark Angel was cancelled three days after it got greenlit was because Fox decided to go with Firefly instead, so thrilled were they to have a Joss Whedon project on their network.

Have I told you about my best friend Alec, by the way? I miss him...

youtube

Rather than finishing his job and killing Sam, Gordon inexplicably leaves the scene with Dean and Alec’s vessel in tow without being seen and with what must be considerable head trauma quick enough that neither Sam nor Ava saw hide nor hair of him. Upon investigating the source of the bullets which nearly perforated him and Ava, Sam discovers a round and concludes somebody used a muffled rifle, much to Ava’s amusing bemusement.

Alec is alas in absentia, but Sam receives a phone call from Dean in which his vessel appears to have taken no damage whatsoever from being once more knocked unconscious with a blunt object, even though a blow to the head hard enough to cause unconsciousness is hard enough to cause serious brain damage or death. Dean is tied to a chair in what looks like an abandoned motel room, and with Gordon’s gun pointed at him he tells Sam to meet him at a certain location, but not without first informing Sam via a code that somebody has a gun on him.

What follows is probably the best scene of the episode for many reasons. Gordon attempts to justify his need to kill Sam to Dean in what sounds very much like trying to recruit Dean to his cause. He sees Dean as somebody who could be very much like him, something which shows Gordon sees all too clearly Dean’s propensity for violence and his homicidal, psychopathic potential. Why else would Gordon leave Dean alive after his phone call to Sam if he did not believe he could talk Dean around to his way of thinking? He could have shot Dean in the chest, cleaned up any blood off his face, and made it look as though Dean were unconscious if he wanted to lure Sam in, but he chose not to. Perhaps the thought of sitting in a room with a dead body which would empty its bowels soon after death was off-putting...

youtube

Dean for his part is still tethered to ’sanity’ by his moral compass, something Gordon appears to misunderstand. Dean would kill him, as indeed he intended to after Sam untied him, and nothing Gordon could say or do would prevent Dean making him sleep with the fishes. Whilst Gordon is busy talking about how it is necessary to kill the psychic kids to save the world (’necessary evil’, ’for the greater good’ and all that) Dean’s bravado slowly fades as he realises Gordon might just be able to kill Sam (the second tripwire wipes the smile off his face) but he almost never looks scared of Gordon. Though he is tied to a chair and eventually gagged, he gives Gordon looks which say ’you are so fraking stupid’ and ’oh my god, you’re an idiot’ and I cannot help being amused. Dean has no overt power in that situation, but he seems inconvenienced rather than weak and vulnerable. Gordon on the other hand has no idea what thin ice he is skating on. He should have ganked Dean while he had the chance, but he was clearly just too sweet on him.

Yes, I am aware not everybody is gay, but neither is everybody heterosexual.

Besides that, Gordon’s seeming belief that Dean will reciprocate his lust join him on the dark side of the force after realising the necessity and rightfulness of his killing people like Sam proves that his mentis is very far from compos.

Back to Sam, he tells Ava to leave town and go back to her fiancé, then goes to the address Dean gave him. He sneaks around the back of the abandoned motel and into the room. There is an explosion and Dean roaring like an angry bull through his gag, but Gordon is not so easily fooled. A second explosion soon follows, but it turns out Sam is alive and he pulls his gun out on Gordon… and then immediately proves he really is the stupidest child in remedial English by NOT PULLING THE DAMN TRIGGER!

Have I already had this rant in this analysis, or was it the previous one? Sam’s hesitancy to pull the trigger on bad guys might have been understandable near the beginning of series one, and even in 1x21 Salvation it was understandable he missed the first shot at Azazel. Even not shooting Azazel!John was relatable, but at that point he should have learnt that trying to have a clear conscience and not harm anybody is selfish, self-indulgent, and GETS PEOPLE KILLED! This is a lesson he should have learnt multiple times, with 2x09 Croatoan being the latest, but he seems incapable of learning form his mistakes. People think Sam is the intelligent one why?

Gordon had shown his true colours in 2x03 Bloodlust, and in this very episode he had beaten Dean with a gun, tied him up, then used him as bait to lure in Sam, not to mention the two explosions which were intended specifically to kill Sam. What part of this says ‘not shooting this man the first opportunity I get’ is a good idea in this context? Gordon might believe he is justified in what he is doing, but most people would call him ‘evil’ without hesitation. Even Sam would, but Sam lets him get away with a little bit of unconsciousness. Pull the ever-loving trigger, Sam, you floppy-haired prat. A clear conscience is a luxury he can ill afford, and one which endangers himself, Dean, and all the other kids like him.

Sam unties Dean, whereupon the latter wastes no time in going to dispatch Gordon, but Sam stops him and – for some unknown reason – Dean leaves Gordon be, taking Sam’s word that Gordon has been taken care of. Once more, people are doing what Sam wants in this episode to avoid conflict, even though Sam was the reason all of this happened in the first place.

As if to prove me right, Gordon wakes up in no time and comes after Dean and Sam as they walk to the car, trying to kill them with his pistol. They run and hide behind a grassy mound, at which point the police arrive and apprehend Gordon. They find lots of weapons in Gordon’s van, and we are left to conclude Gordon will be going to prison for a long time.

Here is my problem with the scene, and it is similar to Sam risking Dean’s life at the end of 1x13 Route 666. The police arriving was not guaranteed to happen at a certain time, and if they had arrived a moment later, Gordon could well have murdered both Sam AND Dean (although he might have spared Dean death). Had Sam arrived later, Gordon might have heard or seen them and run, possibly killing Dean beforehand, or else kidnapping him again. Sam might well have been thinking of the police when he refused to kill Gordon, but his plan was too dependent on contingencies and risked Dean’s life on numerous counts.

There is also the inconvenient fact that Dean is a wanted murderer after Sam made him take the fall for Shifter!Dean’s murders in 1x06 Skin. Had the police turned up whilst Dean was still tied to the chair, things would have gone badly for him.

Stupid, stupid Sam. Even Dean praises him at the end of the episode, for which I have to roll my eyes.

After this, Dean rings Ellen, assuming she must have had something to do with Gordon finding out Sam’s whereabouts. Ellen understands Dean’s assumption, but asserts that she did not tell anybody. Any of the hunters in the Roadhouse could have overheard, and according to her many of them would have easily been able to track Sam and the psychics down.

Anyway, the penultimate scene of the episode is Dean and Sam talking in the car. Ava will not answer phone and Sam is getting concerned, and after making a comment about marital infidelity and carnal pleasure as a reward for saving the world, Dean says ‘If you ever take off like that again…’ which is the extent of the anger he shows Sam in this episode. Sam’s response to this is a laugh, as though a microbe has just started getting lippy with him.

So those people who think Dean has a history of violently abusing Sam… take a look at how little Sam cares about Dean’s threats of repercussions. He does not, not in the slightest. Does that sound like the actions of a man being ‘threatened with violence’ by his abuser? Not to me.

Bismillah give me strength...

Oh, and Dean made a men-being-raped-in-prison joke, because that is hilarious apparently. I mean, those men deserve it, after all. Sam deserved a slap in the face after his behaviour in this episode, but Dean gets a time out. Why do the writers keep giving the characters stupid lines like that? Still, at least he does not make a joke about the man who is actually raped repeatedly in 2x15 Tall Tales, but more on that sometime in March when I get to it.

Ava’s radio silence worries Sam enough that he gets Dean to drive him to Peoria, Illinois (the state next door to Indiana). At Ava’s home, they find her fiancé dead and sulphur in the window: a demon was recently there, but the exact circumstances of Ava’s disappearance and her dead fiancé are anybody’s guess. Did the demon kill the fiancé and then kidnap Ava, or did it possess Ava, kill the fiancé, and then leave? Was the demon already possessing Ava when she met Sam?

Sam finds Ava’s engagement ring on the floor, and then the end credits roll.

Not the best episode, but not the worst either. The mollycoddling of Sam irked and vexed me, as did the writer not allowing Dean or anybody else (but especially Dean) to get angry with Sam. This might be a script editor decision rather than writer decision, but I am still miffed. In hindsight, the psychic kids plot is mostly redundant and never leads anywhere. It could have done, as Lucifer could easily have used the psychics in his army to fight the ‘war’ we never actually see but hear a lot about (probably a budget problem, just like the black contact lenses etc). Dean is struggling with his ‘dark side’ or his ‘exaggerated masculine’ which is trying to deaden him to killing Sam. Dean is, however, in a better position to fight his own corner, and unless I am very much mistaken there is no point in series two after this where it looks conceivable Dean would kill Sam. Although after Sam’s gallivanting off on a jolly jaunt this episode, Dean would only have my deepest sympathies is he chose to do so.

#Youtube #edvard's supernatural guide #spn meta #2x10 hunted #spn 2x10 #s02e10 #gordon walker #dean winchester #sam winchester #becky rosen #supernatural rewatch #supernatural #alec x5 494

7 notes · View notes

beelsbignaturals · 1 year

Text

Dead is the New Alive

A/N: Happy birthday to me!!! To celebrate being a dramatic pisces, I've decided to finally post this super self-indulgent self insert MC fic! It's definitely a work in progress but the intended audience is literally me and whoever is unfortunate enough to stumble across this. Big thank you to Aki for helping with literally everything ily homie! Yes the first scene is low-key a songfic. The song is What Will I Remember by Emilie Autumn if you want to give it a listen. Title is also an Emilie Autumn song. Guess what album I listened to while writing lmao. Anyways enjoy!

___________________________________________

Warnings: Blood, gore, violence, character death (ish), teeth, strong language

___________________________________________

What will I remember?

"Does it hurt? Finding it hard to breathe? I'm sure it must be very unpleasant." The sadistic ass was taunting me. Quite literally adding insult to injury

What will I forget?

I did all this because I saw how much this family was hurting and this is the thanks I get?Someone laughing over me as the life drains from my eyes? After I go through all of this bullshit some stupid demon thinks he has every right in the world to end my life?

Honestly, if I didn't have claws tearing into my throat while this asshole is crushing my windpipe, I'd probably be tempted to smack that stupid grin off his face. Unfortunately, I'm in survival mode.

When this life is ending and gone

Fine. You want to kill me? I came into the world screaming and covered in someone else's blood. I plan on leaving the same way. It's game time, bitch.

What will I regret?

The next few moments are a blur of flailing limbs. One particularly well-timed kick sends me falling to the floor. Not risking it, l don't bother to catch my breath. Breathing is secondary. I need to run.

If tomorrow I don't wake up, what happens?

Moonlight shines through a nearby window like a beacon. Here goes nothing.

My sunrise, or sunset?

One foot in front of the other. Just keep running. He's behind you. Keep going. Almost there..

If I never were born

Fuck. Strong arms grab me, stopping any chance of escape. No. It's not over. I'm so close. I sink my teeth into the nearest thing I can find. Not letting go until I hear a sickening crunch followed by a string of curses. Name another human who took a chunk of flesh out of a demon's hand. I'll wait.

If I never died

Last shot. Come on. Somehow, I find the strength to launch myself out the window. Glass tears my arms to ribbons, but l'm flying and l'm free. Eat your heart out, Sally Hardesty.

Would it even matter at all?

All too soon, I collide with the pavement, knocking what little air I had left out of my lungs. I drag my bloodied body along, rocks and broken glass digging into my palms. I keep going until I physically can't move.

What should I decide?

Hopefully this will buy me enough time for someone to realize what happened. I mean. They wouldn't let me die, right? If even Belphegor was right and they didn't give a shit about me.. at the very least Lucifer wouldn't want the exchange program to be a failure. It would mess with Diavolo's plans. I'm not dying.

I always imagined I'd mean something to

someone

At least that's what I try to convince myself. The blood loss would beg to differ. But. I'll be okay. I'm sure magic will fix me up in no time. Just stay awake until help arrives. I try to focus on all the things I'll miss if I fall asleep. Late night nacho shenanigans with Beel. Watching Legally Blonde with Asmo. Helping Mammon hide from Lucifer. Kicking Levi's ass at DevilKart. All these precious moments that I'd hate to never experience again.

If I won't, 'least I tried

I'm fading in and out of consciousness. Time feels funny. Everything is in brief snippets. After what could have been hours or minutes. I register someone speaking. It doesn't sound familiar. Pressure on my chest. Sharp pain in my neck. Belphegor must've caught up with me. I wait for more torture but it doesn't come. Just a strange numbness. Decorating cakes with Luke. Feeding stray cats with Satan.

When my body suffers

So much yelling. It's too loud. I think I'm being moved? That's Mammon's voice! I did it. I'm safe. Why is he crying? They can fix me, right? It's too cold. Maybe not.

When to breath is pain

Levi is here, too! Maybe.. no. He's crying too. Oh. I guess this is it. At least I'm not alone.

Is it really madness to think

I try to reach for the nearest person. Maybe I can will someone hold my hand? No, that just made them move more. Don't leave me! Please.

Think of breaking this chain?

"Lucifer, get yer ass out here," He's staying. Thank fuck.

Is the future mine?

"Alaura, can you hear me?" After a failed attempt at nodding my head, which honestly just hurts way too much, I opt to try again to find Mammon's hand. This time, I'm actually successful.

It's kind of funny how, despite the fact I lay here dying, this is the most alive and real I've felt in a long time. These last few months have been spent on autopilot. Honestly, I didn't really believe any of it was real. I suppose death has a sobering effect.

God knows I have a past

So much commotion. So many voices. Not like I can understand much of what they are saying. Not when it all blurs together. I hold onto Mammon like a lifeline. Which, I suppose he is.

Where's my second chapter?

It seems they decide it is in everyone's best interest to not leave me lying on the ground in the middle of the night. That would be great if not for the fact they have to move me.

Or will the first also be my last?

The gaping throat wound is, understandably, not fucking pleasant. When strong arms lift me off the pavement, I struggle with energy I didn't know I had left. Kicking and screaming until it feels like my vocal cords are fried.

Is my story over if I fall asleep?

"I know, I'm sorry." The second born whispers, rings digging into my skin. Or maybe that's more glass. Regardless, he cradles my head against his chest, minimizing any movement that would further irritate my injuries.

Would anybody find me?

Crashing can be heard throughout the house. Part of me hopes Belphegor falls through a window too. Just for a small taste of his own medicine.

And would anybody weep?

With that pleasant thought, sleep takes over

I can't even pretend I care

But songs I'll never sing

Well, that means something

Yes, that means something

The next few days are spent in relative darkness. I can't see but I hear everything. It's like a strangely pleasant sleep paralysis. Plus I'm never alone for long. Asmo sits beside me, gently plucking glass from my skin, cleaning wounds of any dirt, and using a cloth to wet my lips and prevent dehydration. I get a whole manicure while he tells me about how I "got Belphie good". Apparently the majority of the dried blood stuck under my nails isn't even mine.

If it's not Asmo, it's Mammon. Half of the time he's moaning about how stupid I am. The rest is spent begging me to wake up. I try to find a way to tell him I'm right here. I'm awake. But I'm frozen in place. I don't think I've ever heard him cry this much.

Occasionally, Satan will pay a visit. Reading the Odyssey to keep me entertained. He's also the only one to update me on what's actually going on. From his visits, I can gather that I had a second attacker, not just Belphegor. The plot thickens. I barely have time to process that before learning said bitch was a vampire. This whole paralysis was just the beginning of my transformation.

Yeah, that's a hard pill to swallow.

I'm not left to think on it long. It turns out that one of the only two humans in the Devildom disappearing off the face of the earth does not go unnoticed. Doubly so when it comes to the resident angels.

With that in mind, I suppose it's not really a surprise that Luke all but breaks into the House of Lamentation, demanding to know what those horrible demons have done.

It'd be sweet if not for the little fact the second he got within ten feet of me, it feels like my bones are melting. You could tell me the air has turned to boiling water and I'd believe you.

His tiny body rushes into the room, grabbing my arm. "Oh, Alaura! Don't worry, I'll save you!"

I can only scream in agony as my flesh sizzles in his grasp. Shocked, Luke grabs my face before he gets a fucking clue. Cute kid, not the sharpest crayon in the box.

The pain of it all causes my eyes to open for the first time in days. I can hardly register the blinding light coming from the hallway. Just that this poor kid, who is, granted, older than I will ever be, starts sobbing out apologies as he stumbles backwards.

Smoke comes off my skin in waves, right where the tiny handprints sit. What is happening?

Poor Luke is dragged away, crying while half a dozen demons pour into my room.

Were they always this loud? I can't process the million different voices all speaking at once. It feels like all the small noises are worming their way into my head and eating my brain from the inside out. Footsteps sound like gunshots. The sound of fabric rustling makes me want to rip my hair out. It's too fucking loud.

Eventually catching on, Lucifer orders everyone to let me rest. He carefully applies some sort of ointment to my injuries before following suit. Alone in the dark I can finally begin to piece together what happened.

Belphegor killed me. Or tried to. Someone else swooped in to finish the job. But that's besides the point. Belphegor tried to kill me. It seems the others don't hate me enough to want me dead. Or at the very least are keeping up appearances. I'm not sure where my attempted killer is but I haven't seen or heard about them since that night.

Right... how long has it even been? I'll have to ask when someone comes around again. Knowing my housemates it won't be long before someone sneaks back into my room. Lucifer be damned.

Next order of business... apparently I'm a vampire? Not the most outlandish thing I've seen during my time in the Devildom but it's certainly up there. All I really know is from what Satan's told me and whatever I can find in my notes on Devildom history. Based on what the textbooks say, vampires are extinct in Hell. So how did this happen?

Only one way to find out and I need the facts before I let myself have a crisis. I guess the textbooks are a good starting point. Ignoring my protesting muscles, I drag myself out of bed to find any information I can.

Blah blah due to the vampire population rising at unprecedented rates and the threat to lower level demons, the King called upon the royal army to deal with the infestation.

Infestation? So I'm vermin now?

Startled by sudden pain in my jaw, my mouth opens in a silent gasp. Crimson blood drips onto the page. Just a few specks at first, but before long, I'm nearly choking as the liquid spills from my mouth.

Frantic, I run through the halls. Not particularly caring about the trail of blood I leave in my wake. Thank fuck no one is in the bathroom.

I lock the door behind me. Muscle memory. Before dashing to the mirror.

Holy shit. Maybe I'm not dead but I sure as hell look it. My body is littered with healing cuts, not to mention the two angry handprints that scorched my skin. Then there's my throat. It's healed somewhat but the mangled flesh has barely begun to scar. Honestly, it doesn't look like something I should've survived.

Fuck. The dull throbbing in my mouth turned sharp once again. Mouth opened as wide as I can manage, I try to inspect the affected area, but God, there's so much blood - I hear the small clink of something hitting the ceramic.

Holy shit. No. This isn't... this can't be happening. I'm hyperventilating as I force myself to look down. There's no way that...nope my entire tooth is sitting in the sink. Cool.... this is just great. I'm. I'm just hallucinating. Or something. That's the only explanation. Maybe I ate Solomon's cooking. That could be it. Food poisoning. Really bad food poisoning.

"Alaura?" A low voice interrupts my manic train of thought. "Alaura, please... open the door."

I don't even bother trying. I can hardly hold myself upright. Who's laughing? Is that my voice? Shit. I'm on the floor. When did that happen? The edges of my vision are fuzzy and dark. When I close my eyes, all I can see is a startling picture of my tooth. A small amount of gum is still hanging on for dear life. Much more blood than what could be considered healthy framing it like some grotesque work of art. Shit. My head hits the cold tile, and I'm watching as the door shakes on its hinges. Maybe I should've locked it.

Once again I wake up, tucked snugly in my bed. This time, however, I can spot a certain white-haired demon curled up on my floor, snoring softly. Cute but there is no way that's comfortable. I can see the dark circles and irritated skin, most likely raw from crying.

For a moment I'm transported back to simpler times. Mammon breaking into my room after a night at the casino, ranting about how "shits rigged", before passing out. Usually I'd shove a pillow under his head and throw a blanket over him before going to bed myself. Maybe even play with his hair. It's soft as hell but I know he'd complain if I did it while he was awake. I even got a beanbag chair at one point so his spine doesn't riot. With such a mundane scene, I can almost pretend things are normal.

Almost. When I poke at the tooth causing me grief earlier, I find it is longer and sharper than I remember. No. No. No. No.

"Mammon," I hiss. "Mammon wake up."

He wakes with a start, rubbing sleep from his eyes before jumping into action.

"You're up!"

I nod slowly. Knees hugged to my chest. "Is this real?"

With a sigh he plops down on my bed, walking me through complex math problems until I know without a doubt my subconscious could never make that up.

Teary-eyed, I stare at Mammon before I finally speak again. Talking feels strange with a killer toothache and one fang.

"What now?"

#om! shall we date #obey me #obey me mc #Alaura #batlaura #obey me x oc #canon x oc #obey me oc #vampire!mc #obey me shall we date #obey me fanfic #shrimp writes

5 notes · View notes

ohmytomorrowisthursday · 1 year

Text

Until I Fall Part Six

Levi Ackerman x Fem Reader.

Eventual romance but this is a slow burn, definitely angsty and darker. It will also focus a lot on Hange, Erwin and the original scouts. Eren and the 104th training corps will be around but I’m focusing on the older characters in here. Your self insert name is ‘Azeria Becker’ pronouns She/Her/Hers. Using a name because don’t like using ‘y/n’.

Cannon universe. I wrote this for myself but I hope that you enjoy it, too lol <3

As you stood in front of Levi on that final day, you couldnt help but remember every last moment of your time in the scouts. How had you gone from that scrawny young rookie trying to fight titans to Erwin’s right-hand soldier who overthrew the government and was about to charge to your death? It was never fair, you’d never get enough time together. Standing before him, his eyes full of the sadness of the truth, it hurt too much to say Goodbye, don’t forget me. I’ll love you forever, so instead you said the only word that you could manage to speak; Survive.

cw: imagine literally every awful/gory thing that happens in SNK. Death, violence and gore. Drinking, sex.

You can find all chapters here.

When Levi first met you in the woods that day, he was glad to have something to focus on after a long winter of trying to numb out Isabella and Furlan. It was the one wound that never seemed to heal, no matter how hard he tried. When he was outside of the gates, he always caught himself wanting to talk to the two of them about how vast the forests seemed, and how no matter how far they wandered from the walls, the edge of the world never came. When he'd make his kills that same spiteful anger filled him the way it did when he saw his two friends bodies lying in the field. And the worst of it; when he finally had any moment of peace away from the fighting, the soldiers, the work; any time he'd lay down the grief seemed to drown him. There was no escaping this nightmare, and every sleepless night filled him with pain and heartache that never seemed to dissipate.

So, when he did meet you it felt like something that could fill the void; something that could help keep him away from thinking about any of it. At first, he didn't think much of you. You were just a rookie and it showed; you lacked the quick pace it would take to get anything done, but you were determined and honest. Levi had grown up in the biggest human shithole on earth. You needed to know when you looked in someones eyes if they were honest or if they were about to pull a fast one on you. When he looked into yours, he knew you were an honest person. It reminded him of Furlan.

You picked up fast. It seemed like every day he was having to work harder to push you, and he actually started enjoying it. He wasn't sleeping anyways, so training at least gave him an excuse as to why he was up in the earliest hours of the morning. You were funny, too. Sarcastic, blunt and he found it amusing when you'd get frustrated; your hair all messy from flying in the trees and your cheeks rosy with exhaustion, cursing at him and ready to try again. Soon, he found himself looking forward to his early mornings with you. He couldn't ever truly admit it to himself though; Any day now we'll be off on another expedition, and who knows if she'll be alive in a month. There was no point in making new friends, especially if they were inexperienced in fighting titans and could die any day.

Just as he suspected, Shadis was planning another expedition outside the walls. Erwin was relaying the plan to the squad. It was still early in the days of the smoke signal guns that he had been developing for the squad and he wanted to use them on this upcoming expedition.

"How will these smoke signals do anything but waste time that could be spent on killing the scum?" Levi asked. It didn't matter to him whether they used the guns or not; he'd kill them all just as he had in every expedition prior. He just hated the idea that others might get hurt if they lose precious seconds on something that wasn't guaranteed to work.

"It will work so that those who aren't as fast as you can be prepared to strike at any second. I believe that this will give us the chance to save lives," Erwin assured. He was always so sure, and Levi couldn't figure out why.

Erwin scanned Levi's face, seeing that he was still dissatisfied. "I assure you that this will give even the worst scout a higher chance of survival than before. At worst, it doesn't affect our performance as a squad at all. At best, we increase our ability to kill titans and spare lives. I'm willing to make that gamble."

Tch. Erwin wasn't going to back down.

"Fine," Levi reluctantly replied, "I'll try it"

Later at dinner, Erwin joined him. Levi could tell that something was on his mind; the air was always different.

"I'm surprised the Commander wants to go on another expedition already. Look at all of these soldiers, they just got their strength back after losing so many and here we are throwing them to the wolves once more."

Levi scoffed, "It's wouldn't be my idea if I were him. But I'm sure those morons in the interior are pushing for results."

"Not surprising in the slightest," Erwin replied, "The king want's that land. Can you imagine how much more food we can grow if we can claim even a little of that space out there?"

"I'm sure we still wouldn't see a drop of it. All that's produced will just be brought back to the interior so they can get fatter and lazier than they already are." Levi sipped his tea, saddened that it was already starting to cool.

"Are you ready to go out there again?" Erwin asked. Levi almost laughed, "Hey, don't humour me, of course I am. I just don't know about the rest of them."

Erwin paused. "I've noticed that you've been training early in the morning?"

Ah, so that's what he wanted to talk about. It felt like both a question and a statement, and it somehow made Levi feel annoyed to be asked about it.

"I have been." He finally answered. Erwin had an amused look on his face, like he already knew the answer to ever question he hadn't asked yet.

"With who?"

Why do you fucking care, Levi thought.

"New recruit. She asked me to help her practice maneuvering with ODM gear," Why did Levi feel so embarrassed and annoyed answering Erwin? Levi's brows furrowed and he felt like he wanted to disappear. Why did he care so much about Erwin asking about you? He could feel Erwin's face becoming more amused. Shut the fuck up, he thought.

"Which recruit?" Erwin asked. His tone didn't seem to care too much but Levi could see in his eyes that Erwin was curious.

"Azeria Becker. First expedition was the last and she had two assists" Levi tried to make any sound of emotion in his voice disappear.

"Not bad for a first expedition," Erwin remarked, "Is she any good?"

"She graduated at the top of the trainees. She's quite skilled with the ODM gear, but she can hesitate in making decisions." Levi sipped his tea. It was cold now.

Erwin's eyes focused on the soldiers sitting across the room, "She sounds like someone who would benefit from the signal gun system. I want her to join us on the next expedition. If a new recruit can work the new system, it will be proof to me that the guns can benefit the scouts," He looked at Levi, "And if the system is ineffective, she will be in the hands of the best squad in the corps."

Levi's first thought was NO. It was too important of a squad, and even if you were good, he wasn't confident that you wouldn't get hurt. That would mean he'd be distracted worrying about you. On the other hand, he couldn't imagine a safer place than on Erwin's squad. There was no way anything would happen on Erwin's watch, he didn't make gambles lightly. He almost liked gambling just to spite Levi and finally say, "I told you so" once the dust had settled. It was an impossible choice, but the look in Erwins eyes said trust me, and so he did.

"Fine," Levi was trying to hide all of the emotion in his voice, "I'm warning you now, though, that brat is mouthy."

Erwin let out a laugh.

Shit Azeria, why you? Why now? Levi rolled his eyes.

part seven

#levi ackerman #aot fandom #attack on titan #levi x reader #levi aot #shingeki no kyojin #levi attack on titan #snk #aot #snk levi #levi heichou #aot x reader #snk x reader #aot fic #snk fic #attack on titan fic

5 notes · View notes