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catastrophe-at-sixteen · 3 years

Text

strawberries and cigarettes (m)

Jungkook x reader

“For a biology project, you and your class are going on a field trip to collect evidence for your hypothesis. It is all going well until the dark haired nuisance called Jeon Jungkook decides to piss you off.”

Also - a nerd. The resident bad boy. The police. Annoying friends. A loose psycho killer. What could go wrong?

This is my first time ever uploading any fics !! im super nervous haha - i'll probably post a little of each one and see how it goes !!

Jungkook x reader.

This is your classic enemies to lovers but with a slight little twist!

This is set in the 80s/90s and is your typical bad boy/nerd girl trope- but , there is a killer on the loose. I mean this is kind of based on jack the ripper (serial killer) and my teenage fantasies of falling for bad boy jungkook. I hope you’ll give it a go and tell me what you think !!! <3

Tw : cursing, killings, descriptions of death and psychopaths, masturbation , making out, smut.

WC : 11K

also a big massive thank you to @ggukkiereads for helping me gain the confidence to write and dedicate time to finishing this ! ik its been a while since we spoke but much love to u angel <3 may u always have the best !

Begrudgingly the students lag off the bus at 10pm, finally having reached their destination.

Tired and sore from their journey the teachers find no trouble in distributing bedrooms for everyone.

When your name is called out along with Tiffany you internally groan - great you think one of the most plastic girls in the school all to myself.

You grimace but make no argument as you could have gotten worse you suppose.

As you grab your belongings and ignore her protests that she doesn't want to room with a loser like you, a dark clad figure pushes past you, almost tripping you over.

Angrily you shout

"Watch where you're going you prick"!

Yet he doesn't so much look in your direction.

Under the dim moonlight you can faintly make out the low blunt of a cigarette in a tattoo clad hand - so it was the infamous Jungkook.

Honestly you didn't understand why all the girls fawned over him when he was just a rude and ignorant asshole. Sure, he had a pretty face but no good soul to match.

Calming yourself, as it was unlikely that you'd ever receive an apology from the school rebel you just head to your new room.

The school had organised a biology trip so that you could gather authentic evidence on the correlation of birds and wood growth in a certain designated area and honestly you were excited- not having enough expenses to get out of town when you were younger meant that this was a treat for you and paired with you being a biology major your inner geek was surfacing pretty quickly.

You move into your room and begin unpacking your things ignoring the chatter coming from your new roommates.

You set everything nicely, precisely -just to your liking. Maybe some would call you fussy, but you like to think of yourself as organised and classy.

You don’t have many thoughts that night as you lay down for bed, but you do hear the news playing in the background.

" a killing has not been sighted for a time breaking the pattern of the 1-week intervals in which they have been happening, but police still advise to remain on high alert at all times. "

You shudder as you think about it, a killer on the loose in the country and everyone powerless to stop him.

He fed of the insecurities of people, the fear of not being safe. He did a damn well good job at it as well.

You look outside and see the police on night duty setting up, the country while terrified also was reluctant to admit the threat and instead of protecting you properly they had merely sent police force units as glorified bodyguards to ' keep you safe '.

You sigh, as you climb under your covers those problems seem like a long way away from you as you drift off with an empty mind.

It was morning, the sun was shining brightly through the windows giving an orange glow to the room.

You were up before your roommates, had brushed your teeth and were already preparing for your project.

You had to do well, you were depending on a scholarship for university, your family could simply not afford it otherwise.

When your first signs of morning hunger begin to strike you venture outside your room in order to satiate yourself. You find that it’s still quiet only a few students up like yourself, you find a coffee machine and immediately begin to make one for yourself.

“While you're at it could you make one for me too".

a deep voice drawls out.

You almost jump out of your skin at the sound his voice breaking the silence you had been enjoying. Jeon Jungkook.

You scowl at him, choosing to ignore him carrying on making your own cup.

He whistles under his breath.

“wow, edgy or a bitch? I can’t decide".

He taunts you.

You roll your eyes at him and sigh in annoyance, his eyebrows raise at this.

“you’re clearly not a morning person".

He speaks.

You mutter under your breath.

" or maybe I’m just not a YOU person, not everyone lives to be nice to you. "

He lifts his hands up in a mock surrender.

“Okay, okay I get it it's a bad time for you jeez.... I suppose I'll have to make my own coffee".

He moves closer to you, totally invading your personal space, clearly, he had never heard of a personal bubble! You scowl and try to move away but he’s faster and is hovering over you before you know it. He looks down at you with those pretty dark eyes.

They’re so gorgeous.

Not that it matters to you because he is still an asshole, and he still ruined your morning.

“get out of my face Jeon Jungkook".

You say between clenched teeth.

You’re not some sort of pushover.

Yes, you're clever, as society classes a nerd but you're not one to let people walk all over you.

If he’s shocked, he doesn’t let on, just hums and lets you walk away, which you do, a little aggressively. You got back to your room and let out a sound of annoyance, the girls are still sleeping.

You sigh.

This was going to be a long trip.

After an uneventful morning, the wait was over and finally the teachers had called you to gather in the common area. Much to your dismay however there would be no actual data collecting until the police had secured the area, which meant that your whole day was pretty much wasted. The other students were chatting and gossiping and being idiots as per usual.

It’s not that you thought you were better than them, it's just that they were so mundane, so lifeless. They were just living on with no sense of direction. You suppose that's what you get for attending a school for rich kids though.

You could never fit in.

So, you never tried. People took pity on you every now and then offered you a smile. You smiled back but that was it. Your thoughts are running and to clear your head you decide to go outside for a little breather.

There isn’t much, just a few abandoned train tracks that seemingly lead into nowhere, a few broken fences and lots of grass. Not much time after this you head to bed.

Finally, the day had arrived, you could collect your samples.

You are so glad that it’s an individual project because you honestly cannot even imagine working with one of those air heads.

You shudder at the memory of having to work with Taehyung last semester for a chemistry practical.

You had to basically pull all the weight for your grade.

So, you get on working your way through your work and proving or disproving your hypothesis.

You’re pleased at the work that you completed. Not entirely satisfied but satisfied enough, for now.

You let out a stiff yawn, you need to stretch and need a little fresh air since you had spent the last few hours writing up your data and making graphs to compliment them.

You forgo your jacket since the weather isn’t so bad.

It’s nice.

When you go outside there are quite a few students already there, goofing around. There is also a pretty scenery, that in all honesty you had not appreciated until right now.

“Wow" you mutter under your breath.

Maybe I should try living outside my own head sometimes.

You spot some students surrounding a police officer and the curiosity gets the better of you and your soon wandering around the outskirts of their conversation.

Alas, it was merely a fruitless conversation. The police officer telling the other about his escapades and how they will be good in hands.

You lose yourself to your own thoughts again and look at the scenery. Until a little scuffle, breaks you out of your thoughts.

“What was that? There was a movement down there!! “

A boy called Josh calls out.

The police officer had also noticed it, then a sound of a gunshot sounds through the air.

The police officers curse and begin to get ready to scout the area. They want you all to go away, be safe inside but you’re all young adults- you want to see what’s going on.

Everyone gathers, watching the officers.

You scan the area; you spot the balcony that looks over the area just in front of the cabins.

Perfect you think that’s the perfect spot to see what’s going on.

So, you begin to climb up the steps to that room, when you get there, you can see everything.

You see a dead dog, a dead bird and the gun which had killed them laid out to where the officers were heading.

Fear grips your heart; your heartbeat is erratic. You think you see the shape of figure retreating into the distance but before you can look again, you feel the ground give way under you.

You let out a shriek, feeling yourself falling.

Is this truly how my life end you wonder I didn’t even get to complete my PhD?

Yet, instead of the hard fall that your body had been anticipating; your landing is softer and lets out a low grunt.

You're sure you're dead and have entered heaven.

Slowly you register a warm feeling under your legs and a secure one at your waist.

oh, this feels nice.

you think, eyes still closed until you hear some chaos in the distance.

what's happening?

Why is heaven so noisy? Are they partying because I’ve arrived? Was I actually an angel all this time am I coming home?

Ah you think this must be the angels- I knew all those days spent doing charity would help me.

You open your eyes and you’re met with bambi eyes staring back at you.

Slowly you begin to piece the rest of your angel together.

“Jeon Jungkook? “

You try and raise your voice to compliment your surprise, but it comes out in a more whisper.

“But this, Jungkook, you were an angel all this time? “you say.

His eyebrows knot together in confusion.

“What are you talking about strawberry?”

You gasp.

"Do we all get code names in heaven? You’re a pretty angel Jungkook. “

Then your eyes zero in on the scar on his cheek.

“Aren’t Angel’s supposed to be blemish free? Is that? Are you fallen? Wait.... for me? Are you my angel Jungkook? “

His eyes, which had previously shown confusion are now coloured with amusement.

“You talk a lot don’t you my little strawberry”.

You vaguely hear the sounds behind you before you begin to feel drowsy and fall limp the arms of your unexpected angel.

Jungkook was, of course no angel, your delirious ass was just doing and saying delirious things. You were going to be mortified when you woke up.

When you come to your room in a dark room, tucked into a warm bed. Your headaches aches as if someone is using a sledgehammer to hit it every second.

‘Agh’ you let out a pained groan.

What even happened? you wonder in your head.

You move quickly, getting out of bed ignoring your protesting limbs. You almost reach the doors until a pair of arms trap you.

‘woah woah where do you think you're going?’

You let out a scream, completely startled. A hand comes to cover your mouth.

‘man, you really do have a set of lungs, don’t you? ‘

You stop struggling in his embrace to match his voice to a face. Its familiar.

‘Jeon Jungkook?’ you let a little unsure and panic still evident in your voice.

‘your one and only’

You frown.

‘mine?’

He smirks at you,

‘that's right yours strawberry’.

You shake your head.

‘are you smoking something? Are you high right now?’

He pouts a little then, it changes his look completely. He looks a little cute.

‘you don't remember? ‘ he cocks his head to the side and points to himself. ‘I'm your angel’.

You scoff.

‘Please in what world are YOU an angel? You're far from it’.

Then it all comes back to you.

Jungkook watches as the realisation begins to show on your face.

‘Oh my god I had a concussion, you cannot be serious right now ‘

He chuckles.

'The words still came out of your mouth' Jungkook counters, he leans closer to you, his face way to close for your liking.

You feel your face grow warm from his proximity, but you don't give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

You scoff and push him away.

‘You're insane’.

He accepts the distance you've placed between the two of you and he chooses to smirk at you from where he is standing.

‘And you're crazy for me’.

You let out an incredulous laugh, not believing him.

‘Oh, my lord, please shut up for the sake of my sanity’.

He chuckles at your flustered state and you scramble your brain to find a change of subject.

‘okay whatever now just excuse me because I need to go back to my room’.

You move to begin walking to the door, but his voice halts your movements.

‘This is your room now’.

You whip around to face him.

‘What?! Ha as if Jeon, why would they room us together- were supposed to separate for the opposite genders- which I totally get when you're involved’ you say disbelief painting your voice. You whisper the last part though.

He puts his hands into his pockets and shrugs.

‘Protection?’

You set him a hard stare.

‘Save your lame ass men superiority talks for someone else i am having a severe case of I'm not interested’.

Why the hell would you need Jungkook for protection, it reeks of patriarchy and you hate it.

He shrugs.

‘Listen princess I don't know why either really to be honest but I'm not complaining-’

You don't bother entertaining him for much longer.

This can't be true. You cannot be paired into a room with him. He cannot be your new roommate - heck now tiffany doesn't seem so bad. Flirting asshole, you mutter under your breath as you begin searching for your teacher.

You only learn a bitter truth, due to the collapsing of the room you had to be relocated into another room and the only person without a roommate was Jungkook. They ‘trusted’ you enough that you would be able to handle it and not to do anything you were not supposed to.

‘We trust you, y/n’ was what she had told you.

You spend your time cursing out both her and Jungkook as you gather your belongings to move into your new room.

You're so caught up in your own thoughts that you don't notice a foot that comes out to trip you.

You look up and see the faces of three stupid bitches.

Tiffany Jessica and Irene.

They seemed to consider themselves above everybody else, though you've no idea why. Aside from flawless looks they seemed to live pretty empty life in your eyes. They were living definitions of empty shells walking around.

You get up quietly from the ground, you'll gain nothing from engaging with them, maybe you'd lose a few brainless. You just want to go back and rest - your head is killing you.

But to your disappointment they begin to talk.

‘Well, well well, if it isn't the school's new slut moving into MY boyfriend's room’.

You have to let a little laugh at this. This one is seriously deluded. Jungkook didn't do relationships you knew that. Everybody knew that. They had hooked up about 3 months ago and even though he does his best to ignore her she still insists that he is her boyfriend. It's just pathetic and a bit sad you suppose. Her obvious attraction to him which he just does not reciprocate.

She becomes enraged at your actions.

‘listen here you little bitch you better not even think of starting anything with my man-’ she spits out at you.

You snap back then, unable to hold your tongue.

‘I am not a slut, and I will not go after your man- which fyi he is not. He is a human and he doesn’t belong to you he never has’

She grows red at your words.

‘you little piece of shit-’

She raises her hand but just then a voice interrupts her and she halts her actions.

‘well if it isn't my new roomie, l’ll take that from you strawberry’ Jungkook says, too cheery for your liking, your still contemplating hitting Jessica.

Jessica begins speaking up, but he ignores her turning to you.

Your mouth almost drops open at his dismissal of Jessica but then again, she is annoying, and he cannot be immune to that.

‘Jungkoooook’ she whines when he doesn’t respond to her the first time.

He still doesn’t entertain her.

He moves to take your things from you, but she speaks again, latching onto his arm.

‘just leave her -cshe's just an annoying stuck-up bitch’.

He responds to this under his breath laughing.

‘reminds me of someone ’

She doesn't understand his comment.

‘huh?’ she says almost comically.

‘who baby?’ she pouts at him ‘my poor baby having to deal with such people, just leave with me and we can-’

‘no’ he sets her with a hard stare.

It's like she has forgotten that you're there, so you decide to use this to your advantage, letting Jungkook deal with them. You move to get your suitcase, but a hand stops yours. Its Jungkook.

‘I don’t think so strawberry - I'll be getting those for you’.

You turn to look at him scowl adorning your features.

‘I don’t need your help Jeon’.

He smirks at you.

‘no no - I insist’.

He dismisses Jessica with a wave of his hand and begins to walk away your suitcase in his hand, which prompts you to follow along.

‘What. Was. That. Jungkook?!’ you say when the door closes, you’re fuming because he had made it seem as though you were dating or doing things together which meant that they would keep bothering you, which is just something that you don’t want.

He turns around to face you.

‘oh, don’t get your panties in such a twist, I just needed to get the fuck away from her’.

He sounds angry and this is the Jungkook that you are more accustomed to. Not the flirty one you have been seeing. Hopefully he had given up on whatever he was trying to achieve with that. He was a rude asshole who was just to used to seeing things come out in his favour.

‘excuse me, you just fuelled her whack ass thoughts and next time don’t use me as your escape route’ you say matching his hostile tone.

‘oh, don’t be such a priss, it saved you as much as it saved me’.

An exasperated noise escapes your throat.

‘well maybe you should have kept it in your pants lover boy’.

He sets you with a hard stare.

‘oh, shut up - you don’t know me’ he grits out.

You cock your head to the side much like he had done to you earlier in the day.

‘hmmm I think I know you pretty well Jungkook, you're not as unreadable as you like to think, Jeon Jungkook the infamous bad boy who uses girls to fuel his ego and is used by girls to fuel their own ego and status quo among their own stupid--’

You do not get to finish you sentence however because you're harshly being pinned to the door. His grip on you is hard and it stings but you meet his gaze.

‘shut the fuck up y/n’ the tone of his voice is almost carnal, animal like.

You seriously had hit a nerve.

‘I go beyond your perceptions of me- you little miss goody two shoes’.

You spit back in his face.

‘I've yet to see you act more like a crazed rabbit Jungkook and to be honest I don’t plan on finding out the depths of your character either. I don’t fucking care about you’.

You push him aside and move to unpack your suitcase.

He mutters something under his breath that you can't hear, and he walks out slamming the door behind him.

‘well, that was fun’ you say and begin to take out your notes and books that you will need through the day.

When you wake up the next you feel like you’ve been hit by a ton of bricks. The painkillers had given you the illusion that you were okay. You look a mess, you're tired, you cannot believe that this happened. You had been looking forward to this for so long, they had told you that another student would be collecting your data. Your new roommate. Jeon Jungkook. He was going to be collecting your data.

This is preposterous! He would probably sabotage you on purpose! This cannot happen, but they wouldn’t budge from their choice. You huff as you look out of the window, where you could be collecting your data along with the other students. Darn you and your curiosity.

They always did say didn’t they- that curiosity killed the cat.

Your walking around the room, pacing- that’s how bored you are. You had reorganised your things 3 times and colour coded all you notes, redrew your graphs, you had done everything that you thought would keep you busy but here you are sitting with nothing to do. You look around the room see Jungkook's things laying on the ground.

You sigh into the empty room again and just lay down waiting for them to come back. You end up falling asleep.

You're stirred from your sleep, quite rudely by a book being thrown at the foot of your bed. You sit up, still groggy and look at Jungkook.

‘what the hell man’

He stares at you blankly.

‘There's your work priss’

You're not bothered by his hostile tone instead open the book and seeing what he had done, or you suppose looking at it what he had not done. The more you look at the work the more the frown on your face deepens.

‘what the hell is this Jungkook?’

He looks up at you annoyed.

‘the work? Thought you were meant to be a genius?’

You scowl at him.

‘this Jungkook? Is unacceptable a nursery kid could do way better than this !’

He rolls his eyes at you.

‘and? That’s what you're going to get priss so deal with it’.

You make an exasperated sigh.

‘you've used the wrong measurement and everything Jungkook’.

‘look - I don’t care. I didn’t want to do this for you anyway’.

‘like I wanted YOU to do it for me’.

You sigh,

You keep bumping into him everywhere, you know he is your roommate but he is always there at the cafeteria taking the last donut which you had been craving pushing in line, making unnecessary comments and he makes the room so messy!

It’s the same thing for the next few outings, Jungkook comes with the same half assed versions of the data you need.

You try, you really you try so hard to use the data sets he provided but its no use. They're absolutely useless, so you decide to take matters into your own hands.

Your going to sneak out early in the morning, you have to sneak past the guards which as you’ve gathered won't be as hard as one may think because they are not good or much invested in their job anyway.

You prepare yourself and head to set out in the morning. You quietly get up so as not to disturb or wake Jungkook. If he sees you, you know that there will be trouble.

You throw on a hoodie and grab a notebook, a pen and your watch. You have to be back before anyone can notice that you're gone. You steel yourself one last time, giving yourself a pep talk and sneak out. You hold your breath as you walk past the room of your supervisor and out the back door of the cabins.

This isn't so bad you think. Once you're out of sight of the guards and you think your safe, you let out a sigh of relief and do a little shimmy out of your happiness. You are so pleased and proud of yourself. What you didn’t know that behind you, watching your every move was a boy covered in tattoos with a cigarette in his hand watching you with an amused face.

Jungkook was, not as you thought asleep when you had snuck out. He was also outside, leaning on the side of the building a cigarette in his hand, he couldn’t sleep that night, it happened to him on most nights so he routinely wakes up to have a smoke. On this particular day there is not the usual eerie morning silence that he is used to, but a few grunts and hisses to accompany it. He furrows his brows.

Is that? He thinks y/n!?!?!?!?!?

No way he thinks what the hell is she up to?

Then he catches sight of your notebook and pen.

'Oh, what a nerd' he mutters under his breath. Then he smirks.

He can totally use this to his advantage.

He stubs his cigarette, pulls his hoodie over his head and follows you.

Your heart is still racing you honestly cannot believe that you. l/n f/n are doing this.

‘What a badass’ you say into the silence.

‘Badass? Sneaking out to do bloody work is your idea of badass?’ a voice speaks up behind you.

You shriek startled and are met with Jungkook.

Why is it always him?

‘what in the bloody tarnation's.... are you trying to kill me Jungkook?!’ you say putting your hand on your heart.

He grins pleased at the reaction he had elicited from you.

He cocks his head to the side.

‘what the hell are you doing here ?!’ you hiss at him.

‘could ask you the same thing strawberry’ he replies.

You look at him.

You were so sure that you had been quiet, how could he be here to ruin everything.

‘you do realise that I actually have name, and it's not strawberry’ you say to him.

He shrugs.

‘Yeah but you always smell like them’.

You scoff;

‘and you always reek of cigarettes.’

He frowns but then asks you again.

‘what are you doing here?’

You think of excuses,

‘I'm - I'm on a walk’ you say.

He lifts his eyebrow up.

‘a walk?’

You nod.

‘that's right for my daily exercise its been a pain to be stuck indoors’.

He snorts.

‘you're on a walk with your graph paper pad and pencil case?’

You curse inside your head.

‘yeah I am a nerd after all’ you say, hoping and praying that he’ll just let you go on your way.

He doesn’t

‘I don’t know, you look awfully suspicious to me, do tell why you're heading to the sight of our data collection points when the trail track is in the opposite direction?’ he says.

You rack your brains for an answer.

‘well, I like an adventure’ you say, standing straight.

‘oh, is that so?’ he says laughter infiltrating his tone.

‘yes’, you say meeting his eyes.

‘hmm’ he says ‘I don’t believe you’ he says.

‘do you wanna know what I think?’ he continues.

He takes one step closer to you.

‘I think that our resident miss goody two shoes is sneaking off when told specifically that she can't’ his gaze burns into yours

You feel yourself going red out of embarrassment.

‘I literally have no idea what you're talking about Jungkook' you say breathless.

He leans closer and you can feel his body heat, he continues to bore his eyes into your own and you almost fall into his gaze until you feel your book being snatched out of your hand.

‘HEY!’ you say reaching for it.

But he holds it higher than himself, opens it to the last written on page.

‘new data collection points’ he reads out ‘and oh would you look at that ! It has todays dates written on it’ he says looking down at you with a squint in his eyes.

You huff.

‘well obviously I had to do this because how on earth could I let your lame ass results and data reading be used for my final piece – I'm not looking to fail’ you say venom laced in every word.

He scowls at you.

‘there was nothing wrong with my results princess’ he grits out.

‘oh, please save it’ you snap back ‘you didn’t even use the same measurements – your hopeless’.

‘well, if I'm so fucking useless you should do my work for me’ he says.

You set him a level stare.

‘what?’

‘you heard me’ he says with a roll of his eyes.

‘and why in the hell would I do that? I don’t care if you fail Jungkook, heck I don’t care if you get kicked out’ you tell him.

He shakes his head.

‘well, I mean I could go back right now and tell Miss Taylor-’ he begins.

You narrow your eyes at him.

‘You wouldn’t dare’.

He holds a staring contest with you.

‘oh, wouldn’t I?’ he says.

You both hold each other's gazes before you give in.

You cannot believe the audacity of this asshole.

‘fine whatever asshole’ you say folding your arms and turning around.

He grins in victory and places your notebook back into your hands.

‘chop chop partner get to it’ he says.

You glare at him.

‘partners pull equal weight Jungkook ‘

He rolls his eyes.

‘I don’t really care – you just need to get a move on’.

You turn around no longer wanting to deal with his annoying ass.

You make it forward a few steps before you stop and turn around.

‘why are you following me?’ you ask him.

He rolls his eyes at your apparent dumbness.

‘well smartass, there is a killer on the loose if you didn’t know’.

You freeze up for a second,

Shit

You had almost forgotten. You don’t let him see that you're scared.

‘and? ‘ you say feigning composure.

‘what the hell are you going to do if he pops out of the woods anyway?’

He shrugs.

‘I dunno actually a lot more than you could do anyway’

You stare at him.

‘I could be a black belt in karate for all you know’.

He laughs.

‘okay princess whatever - I just need to make sure that you're not going to fuck this up’.

So, you turn going to the place you need to, to collect your data pieces.

With having to do Jungkook's work as well, it takes a lot longer to complete than you would have liked.

He is surprisingly bearable in the mornings that you both sneak off though. He doesn’t say much. Just watches you – pretends he isn't though.

You catch him once. Its been about 2 weeks since you started this godawful task, and Jungkook's notes and work were in dire need of help so its taking you time. This time however you meet his gaze before he is able to pull away.

You cock your head to the side.

‘what are you staring at?’ you say placing your hands on your hips.

He says something inaudible under his breath.

‘what was that?’

He snaps at you.

‘do you think you have tie to stand around making idle talk with me? The work ain’t going to do itself princess.’

You huff in annoyance.

How dare he! This was just plain wrong anyway I should not even be doing this, but you knew it was the only way. You couldn't risk getting caught and with Jungkook you wouldn't be surprised if he really did rat you out you to all the teachers. And if he did well, you wouldn’t be receiving a very good reference.

It was during an early morning that you hear Jungkook walk off into the distance. Probably to smoke, such a bad habit you tsk.

But you're also done for the day – so you begin to head back on your own.

You feel the grass brush against your feet as you walk back. You’re humming along to that song that was always on the radio, when you hear it. A little whimper - then a cry. You know that you shouldn’t go to look, you know that you're paying for your curiosity already and you don’t need another thing to happen, but you just cannot help yourself!

You follow the sound, going on a detour from the track.

You do consider yourself somewhat of a badass but a serial killer? Yeah, they kinda scare the shit out of you. You hold your breath and walk as quietly and slowly as you can. You hear the whimper again to your left but its deeper into the woods.

As you walk closer you see a pool of blood - your eyes widen, and your heartbeat becomes erratic.

‘what the fuck?’ you whisper into the silence.

You walk closer to the body of the animal and you can feel your knees grow a little weak you can see a white paper which has been tainted red with the blood of the animal that was killed.

You gasp, taking it up in your hands. Your hands also become stained with the redness.

It's in Morse code.

-.-- --- ..- / ... .... --- ..- .-.. -.. -. .----. - / -... . / .-- .- -. -.. . .-. .. -. --. / --- ..- - / .- .-.. --- -. .

(YOU SHOULDN'T BE WANDERING OUT ALONE)

You look at it for a while and rack your brains to be able to translate it but no such look. Your mind is busy running at 100miles per hour. As you try and clear your head and look at the note one more time, but a noise in the distance pulls you way from any semblance of concentration that you could have obtained.

You frantically look around trying to locate where the sound had come from. Your senses are all on a high right now. You shove the piece of paper into your pocket and begin to go back the way that you came. After the first few steps you begin running your head running wild with the idea of being found dead in ditch. Your nearly at the main path which you had strayed from. You make it onto the path, and you bend over catching your breath when two arms encircle you from behind.

You let out a scream.

A hand is placed over your mouth.

‘shut the fuck up y/n’.

You recognise THAT voice. Its Jeon Jungkook. Why is this motherfucker always trying to scare you? Your turn around and hit him on the chest,

‘what the actual hell Jeon, you gave me a bloody heat attack and a half’.

He doesn’t respond. He is looking at you, his eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes have a glint of anger. He is furious.

‘where the fuck did you go y/n?’ he says, he holds your wrist stopping you from hitting him again.

He holds it in the air holding your gaze.

‘I was.... walking back’ you didn't want him to know what you had found. He would probably tell you it was a bad idea to even translate it. Which it was, but what is life if not for taking risks?

You yank your hand from his grasp.

He looks at you an unreadable expression on his face.

“you’re a fucking liar “he says.

You scoff.

“oh please, what’s it to you anyway jungkook, you left me first “

He doesn’t say anything, but observes you, trying to look for signs of what you’re hiding.

He had found one too, a dead animal and a note written in Morse.

But he could read it and he knew he was in trouble

“Be careful, or your little girlfriend may be snatched from right under your arms “

He swore under his breath as he read it and immediately began to make his way back to you.

“strawberry?” he calls out but you’re not there.

You’re not there and he hates the feeling of dread that sits in his stomach.

He runs back the way you came, but he still finds no trace of you

“fucking hell where did she go?”

He almost gives up and is going to tell the police when you appear before him, out of breath and you look terrified.

He knows you’re lying, if you were where, you said you were, he would have seen you.

He narrows his eyes at you again.

“I left for two seconds and you ran off. Where the fuck did you go? “

He asks, he wants you tell him, needs you to, he’s overcome with this sense to protect you but you don’t trust him. He needs to change that.

He lets you believe that you have him fooled, that he believes your story and he begins to walk back to the cabins right before the call for breakfast is sounded. You follow after him breathing in a sigh of relief that he had believed you.

That night you find it difficult to sleep. You need to find out the meaning of the Morse code, but you don't have access to a book that will help you translate, meaning that you will have to ask around without looking too suspicious.

You decide that a police officer would do nicely, if you seem overly invested in their job, they would just give you the information.

You spot the officer who looks younger than most, you remember his name.

Park Jimin.

You approach him cautiously.

“Officer park?”

He turns around to face you, smiling softly.

Oh, he’s cute you think.

“yes miss?”

You smile at him warmly.

“nothing serious it’s just that I was wondering if you would like some company, it must be a little boring for you out here on your own “

You say to him and you’re glad you asked him because either way his face breaks out into a smile that has your heart fluttering.

“how very kind of you miss! And yes, a little company wouldn't hurt “, he grins at you.

As you strike up conversation, with the officer you fail to notice a figure dressed in black listening in on your conversation. Jungkook listens in as you try and get information out of officer. He knew it. You had also come across the same note, as he had. He wonders what yours said.

He leaves after a bit, leaving both of you oblivious to the fact that he was even there in the first place.

When you get back to your room, you see Jungkook sitting at the foot of his bed frown on his face.

You ignore him and write down the information you'd just got given by Officer Park. You felt a little bad manipulating him when he was so nice but you just had to know what it meant.

Jungkook speaks up.

“that was a nice conversation you were having with Officer Park “

He says,

You whip you’re head up to look at him and closing your notebook harshly.

“What? Were you eavesdropping on my conversation?”

He rolls his eyes

“Why would I be listening to the conservation of the school nerd with a cop? No, I just happened to hear in passing “

You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding.

“That’s mighty rude of y-" you begin to retort before he cuts you off

“what’s a biology nerd like you need with Morse code?” He asks.

Your mind malfunctions for a moment until you bring yourself back together.

“A little extra knowledge hurts no one you know?” you say appearing nonchalant.

He narrows his eyes

“I know it”

You look at him

“you do?”

He nods,

“why need something translating?” he tries.

You think about it, but ultimately decided against showing him the note you found.

You have no clue what it says. You don’t want him understanding before you do.

You shake your head,

“No, I don’t “

You say, deciding enough is enough and you need to sleep now to be up in the morning.

The next morning you sleep in, meaning that you couldn’t do the work that was set out for you. You stretch and moan as you get out of bed when you sit up and open your eyes fully your locks onto the Bambi ones from across the room. You let out a shriek!

‘What the hell why were you watching me you creeper!’ you say pointing a finger at Jungkook.

He rolls his eyes at you.

‘oh, please don’t flatter yourself’.

‘why didn’t you wake me up? Its so late !’ you question him.

He looks at you and says words that you don’t think that you would hear.

‘I think that we should lay off for a bit strawberry’

You look at him in shock

‘but why!?’

He doesn’t really give you much of an answer in his usual Jungkook manner.

You sigh.

Over the next few weeks, you rarely bump into Jungkook, you see him sometimes in the cafeteria and you can always feel him just watching you it makes you grow warm when you notice his staring.

Jungkook is also going crazy. You drive him crazy.

You guess that you'll have to work at the same pace as everyone, truthfully you had actually caught up with your work that was missed a while ago, you were just doing extra readings to stay ahead. One step ahead of everyone. But you guess that that is going to be changed now.

It had been a while since you had been on your morning trips with jungkook and though you hate to admit it, you kind of missed it.

He wasn't as bad company as you thought he would be, he was oddly quiet which meant that without him talking as much, you really got to admire his beauty. And good lord was he handsome, you understand why people are attracted to him, when his mouth is closed, he’s fine. Basically, you became a little horny when you saw him, it had been ages since you had had sex even masturbated, since you now had room with him.

Jungkook has such strong sharp features which sometimes go all soft, if he pouts while he’s thinking or a bird catches his attention, his eyes will go big and doe like. It's cute. Everybody had two sides you suppose, yours was your horny side (lol what)

Okay maybe, more time to admire him was a bad thing, you did not need to have sexual fantasies with him, no, that was a big no no.

It's been a few weeks since Jungkook had asked you to lay low for a while and in that time, you had been asking around about the killer to the police. You tried your best not to seem suspicious about it though, if they caught on – well it wouldn’t exactly end well. So, you make slow progress, you did make progress though, however.

You could now understand the note and while it scared you, it also ignited something in you that you didn’t even know that you possessed inside of you. You wanted to outdo him, you want to find him, lead him into a trap or something like that anyway. You want to catch him.

Something in the back of your mind is telling you begging you to stop being so stupid, but you ignore and continue to daydream about catching this bastard.

But it can only cure your boredom for a while – you get bored and what better to do when you're bored than to read erotica novels?

You had packed this book with you – the secrets of the alluring painter in France. You had taken to reading at night time on some nights.

Like tonight.

You need a wind down, so you pull out your book, and it has such racy scenes that leave you clenching around nothing.

Your sexual imagination goes wild when you read the erotica in the book and the way they make it seem so fiery, you were no virgin - you knew what sex was like, but never has it been close to the way it is in the book.

You’ve allowed yourself to fall into this horrible habit, at night, when Jungkook is asleep to touch yourself, play with yourself, pretending it is you who is being touched by Kim Taehyung the painter with many secrets.

You feel yourself growing more frustrated with each passage you read, it becomes a little irritating and, you have to touch yourself or you'll go crazy, the man in the book was doing it so well, so hot.

Kim Taehyung, he was described as an utter beauty, soft black hair and soft eyes, a deep voice that just made the reader swoon, you close your eyes and reach your hands down to your shorts, they slip past the hem.

You wish you could moan, wish that you could be vocal, like you were in your bedroom when it was just you and your pillow, but there was one big problem and that was Jeon Jungkook.

Why did you have to room with him?

You lighten your breathing and listen for signs of him being awake, but he seems to be breathing really deep, he is asleep you assure yourself.

You turn the lamp off, at the side of your bed, setting the book on the bedside table.

You trail your hand down your stomach, much like Taehyung had done to the main character, he slowly lets his fingers flutter over the top of her shorts, and you do the same. You build the tension, like it's his beautiful hands working against you.

You pause and let your fingers slip past the hem of your panties, you trace over the fabric covering you - first over your mound, stroking sensually.

How had Taehyung done it?

Right yes, he had used his nails slightly and grazed over lightly, a slight pressure but nothing that hurt - it was just enough to make you squirm under your own touch.

You feel your own wetness, feel how obscene it is in the darkness of the night.

Jungkook is right there, and while it scares you, it also thrills you, you feel a new wave of arousal and adrenaline when you remember he is there.

Slowly and as quietly as possible you shuffle, moving to take your shorts off, it's a little loud but you think that you're okay, Jungkook is out like a log. After a moment you continue to tease yourself.

Running your fingertips over your lips, pressing down on your hole and clenching, withholding the need to hiss.

You raise your hand further and your fingers land right at the centre of your pleasure.

Your clit. Oh, the beautiful bundle of nerves.

You cover your mouth with a hand to stifle the moan that you almost let out when you begin to rub small circles around the sensitive nub.

When you can’t get enough your panties are next to go, and when the cold air hits your wet centre you have to hold your breath, shaky.

You reach down and gather your slick slowly, spreading it all over your centre, making yourself drown in your own arousal, you use your middle and ring finger to slide up and down at a pace that leaves you edged and eager for more, you need to bring yourself to the very edge to get yourself the release that you’re after, you free hand travels up to your ever sensitive boobs, you play with them, brushing over the nipple, making them perk and then groping them while you rub at your clit.

A dirty thought crosses your mind, when you remember the boy who was asleep across from you.

What if, he was the one to touch, the one touching you, with those beautiful hands of his, those big hands.

You stifle another moan, as you think about him, hovering over you, giving it to you just right. You had heard that Jungkook could actually make a girl cum while having sex, that made you a little interested. It’s just he always opens his mouth and is an ass and ruins everything. But right now, in your imagination, only his looks and reputation matter, you twist and turn his character to be someone that you can gain pleasure from.

You can the pleasure increase and you begin to fasten your speed until you feel the signs of your orgasm and then you pull away. Edging yourself.

Your breathing is a little heavy and your work on controlling it, both your hands go to fondle your breasts and you unconsciously lift your hips, humping the air, you lean down again and enter three fingers easily into your own heat.

The squelching sound heard is deafening in the silent room, your cheeks burn red and you pull out slowly, so that was a no no, you would have to focus on your clit for you orgasm. Which was fine because you were so sensitive from playing with yourself, you know that it would only take a few more strokes to get there.

You press the fingers that were just inside of you, against your sensitive bud and you rub in slowly circles and then fastening your place and then slowing once more.

Jungkook comes into your mind again, ugh, now his lips, his pretty pink lips and the way he licks them, and the way they glisten under the sun. What if they were attached to your clit, if he was using his face to give you pleasure, like Taehyung had done to the main character of the novel, God it was so filthy.

Its driving you insane and you love it, the frustration will only make your release all the more powerful.

After a while you feel the fire blooming in your bottom of your stomach, and you quicken your pace to the point where you feel light and the waves of pleasure rack over your whole body.

You press your hand to your mouth again to conceal the gasps that are escaping you, you sigh and fall back onto your pillow feeling so much better and lighter.

Gosh did that feel good. You were aware that in your mind alarms were going off in your mind. You had thought of Jungkook while masturbating. It was a line you have no idea why you crossed. How would you look him in the eye now?

After a while, you pull up your panties and shorts and you promise yourself a shower in the morning.

What you didn't know was that the raven-haired boy of your fantasies was in fact awake and now painfully hard as he listened to your filthy little moans and gasps, he grabs his own member in his pants, strokes slowly. He spreads the pre-cum over his member before setting the fast pace that he liked, his breaths through his nose – to conceal the way his breathing has become strained. His hair becomes damp from sweat and it sticks to his forehead. He came much faster that he would care to admit the thought of you right there yet unreachable the fact that you were so NAUGHTY under all that good girl.

Turning him on, making him needy.

He breathes heavy, thinking of you under him as he squirts out cum into his pants, Jungkook too showers in the morning after you.

After this Jungkook stays up at night, listening to you, seeing if you would do it again, you do and, on those nights, Jungkook cums at the same time as you. He feels a little pathetic, he knows that he can fuck a lot of girls in the class right, but it wasn't you, God he wants it to be you writhing underneath him.

It’s the next morning and you're getting ready for your shower.

You're gathering your clothes and shampoo and creams into a little bundle and are about to open the door to the shower, when it is opened for you. The song that you were softly humming gets stuck in your throat when you register that the door was opened by Jungkook.

A very naked Jungkook.

Your face grows red, and your eyes wander over his gorgeous body, the tattoos that trail up his arm and a few on his waist, God they looked amazing.

Your ogling comes to a stop when he clears his throat. Oh, shit you think - I was staring. You quickly look up and your eyes meet Jungkook's.

He is smirking at you and as soon as you meet his gaze, he lets his own wander over body – taken in the skin that was exposed in your pyjama shorts and a t-shirt that had been small for you since you turned 13 years old.

He looks up and down your body brazenly before meeting your eyes. He licks his lips, and you zero in on it. God it was so annoying that he was this hot.

How could this be happening now? When you had spent a while avoiding him? And him you? Why did this happen after you were thinking of him last night? Oh god you grow red again and you think what if he had heard you? God, that would be embarrassing. You look at his lips again, avoiding his gaze again but maybe his eyes would have been a better option because as soon as you look at his lips, the same filthy thoughts come back to you - you shift uncomfortably trying to calm yourself. In that time, you don't notice but Jungkook has come closer to you.

You register his closeness when a water droplet from his hair falls onto your cheek. You move away slightly.

You don’t realise it but in your extended silence of checking each other out the both of you have moved closer to each other. There is no longer what people would call a healthy distance between the two of you anymore. He looks down at you and licks his lips again. His hair is wet and the way he runs his hand through it – he looks so good like this. Your dirty thoughts run wild again. Its only when another water droplet from his hair falls onto your cheek that you finally snap out of it. You move a step back.

“You look a little hot strawberry is anything the matter?” He asks you, a teasing lilt on his voice.

It’s way too early for this, you cannot be dealing with this right now, not when your mind has gone on a memory flashback to last night and he was right here in front you, so very naked.

Still, you feign your ever composed self.

“I’m just fine” you say through gritted teeth.

“I need to shower and your kind of standing in my way” you tell him.

He chuckles, a deep chuckle, gosh how are you this horny in the morning? Stop it y/n you think.

“I don't think you really mind though do you strawberry, you seem to have a very different secretive side” he says, cocking his head to the side.

You blush, shit had he heard you?

“I have no idea what you're talking about Jungkook” you say to him “I need to shower though”.

You move to get away from his hearted stare but just before you enter the washroom, a hand grabs onto your wrist and pulls you back.

Jungkook looks at you, a deep and confusing stare.

“Be careful, it’s quite wet in there” he says and then his tongue pokes into the side of his cheek. Then suddenly, he lets you go and walks off to his side of the room, your left in shock at his words and quickly scurry to get into the bedroom before more heated tension breaks through.

You shake your head of all thoughts and quickly go into the shower, what you don’t realise is that you accidently drop something, the note with the raven-haired boy who you had left in the bedroom.

Its later on during this day that Jungkook approaches you.

'Hey strawberry’ he says to you.

You raise your eyebrows at him, what’s with his sudden kindness.

‘hey’ you reply voice dipped in surprised.

‘Oh, shut up, I just came to talk to you’.

You look at him.

‘I didn’t say anything but okay…. talk then’ you gesture your hands between your two bodies.

He lets out an exasperated gasp.

‘The note – did you find one?’ he asks. You still in the next sip of coffee that you were going to take. You feel yourself grow cold. How did he find out?

He looks at you.

‘So, you did’.

‘I didn’t say that’ you say tone slightly higher than normal – you were a terrible liar.

He laughs at you

‘Hmm is that so?’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about Jungkook’.

He looks at you, more serious this time.

“Listen y/n there's no point playing dumb, I found your stupid note anyway”.

You watch mortified as he pulls out the note that you had thought was in your pocket. Well shit then.

“I- I have never seen that before in my life Jungkook” you can't let him know; he would ruin everything - you convince yourself.

He looks at you, he’s getting annoyed that you're lying to him. He pokes his tongue against his cheek again.

“I suggest you stop lying”.

You scoff.

“Why would I ever need to lie to you your nobody to me Jungkook”.

Something akin to hurt flashes across his face for a few seconds before he slams his hands on the table.

“I don’t think you know what you're even getting into strawberry”.

You gather your belongings getting up, you need to get away from him.

“And I don't think you know what the fuck you're talking about Jungkook”.

You walk off leaving him there, but he follows after you,

“Listen I found one too, you don't need to be miss hero or anything”.

You carry on walking, not bothering to give him an answer, he would want to tell the teachers and everyone, they would cancel the trip and then how would you finish gathering your evidence? No, he was insane.

“I don’t know what you're talking about”.

‘you think your so fucking slick, don’t you? Asking around and acting unsuspicious but your wrong I could sense your stupid plan from a mile away’ he says to you, pulling you on your arm effectively stopping you so you can't walk away from him anymore. You struggle out of his hold.

‘and so, what? So, what if you know? What the hell are you going to do Jungkook? Tell on me? Are you going to threaten to tell the teachers because you know what? I’ve been thinking about it and I think they would much rather take my word for yours and all this work I’ve been doing for you – I could easily go right now and show the teachers and say that you forced me to do it!! ’

He looks at you angrily, looks like he is going to swear or curse you out but then his face relaxes.

‘you say that baby, but the truth is I have money and you don’t if I want to manipulate something I can because I have the means and power to do so, my dad's made himself something while yours totted away in the fucking garbage can’.

You feel the anger come over you and he smirks at you.

‘real fucking classy Jeon, yeah insult my parents – like it's their fault they were born into a world where people are born with silver spoons on their mouth, and at least my parents love me Jungkook’

His eyes flash with hurt

‘how do you now my parents don't love me you little bitch?’

You laugh an empty laugh at his face.

‘just look at you – you’re the very definition of boohoo my parents don't love me so I'm going to kick up a mess, so they notice me for once’.

He groans in frustration at your words then.

Somehow amidst your confrontation with Jungkook you had managed to reach your room, why are you here? Why did your feet have to leave you here?

You walk into the room and as soon as he gets in, Jungkook grabs you by the wrist and pins you against the door, your books and pencils fly across the room and while your mortified - he doesn't even bat an eyelid.

Your breathing is both heavy as you look each other in the eyes, waiting for the other to say something.

You struggle against his hold, uselessly, curse him for doing his workout routine every morning.

“You found the fucking note y/n when you went missing in the woods that day, the note that’s in Morse code, the note that you spent a week trying to decode, don't act fucking dumb” he grits out.

You still try and keep up your act,

“I have no clue in the world what you're talking Jeon, I think you're going fucking insane” you seethe out

He growls, yes, he growls.

“Your seriously fucking pissing me off now, I know you did, I know you found it”.

“Fuck off, Jungkook does it look like I care if I am fucking pissing you off”.

He looks into your eyes again and whispers something like “fucking priss” before he is connecting your lips in a kiss, a kiss that is full of ego, passion and heat. You can feel in searing through your body so fiery, setting your nerves alight.

He is relentless in his pace. His mouth against yours and God indeed Jungkook is good kisser. Before you knees grow weak you move your hands to tangle in his hair and you pull at the end causing him groan against his lips, when he does you swipe your tongue into his mouth getting a taste. You pull harder, and he groans again. It was a sound that you know you would like to hear again.

His hands move from the door and one tangles in your hair while the other presses harshly on your waist. You gasp at the pleasure and at this he takes over, he fights your own tongue for dominance and once he wins, he is rough, he wants all his saliva in your mouth, wants his taste on you, wants you to feel him in every way.

When he knows that your just as enthralled by his kisses he pulls back to taunt you - whispering the words against you bruised lips.

“You act like such a fucking little priss don't you? Act like your better than me? Lying to me? Fuck you drive me insane”.

He attacks your neck now, leaving open mouthed kisses along your ear and neck. He nibbles lightly at a few areas and when he gets to just the right place - where your breath hitches and you move your thighs together he bites down harshly without warning and you try you best to suppress your moans. Not wanting to give him any satisfaction.

“I am better than you” you say to him breathlessly, “I don’t just act like it, I am”.

He bites harder at that and you wince - Jungkook is painting you skin wine and purple and your letting him and it feels so goddamn good. He pulls you back by the hair to look at him,

“You don't look much better than me when you are bending at my will, when you're looking so fucked out and I’ve done is fucking kiss you”.

Your answer is swallowed by a moan that you let out as he takes you breasts into his big hands, and squeezes hard, you pull him up from your neck and kiss him again, his lips, your lips bruising and fighting against one another.

He trails his hand down further and dances around the hem of your pants for a while, and you place your own over his, just as your about to lead him further down a knock is heard at your door.

You both freeze

“y/n?” A voice calls out.

You calm yourself before answering, still a little shaky.

“Yes?”

“Our guest speaker has arrived, I just thought you might like to ask him a few questions before he gives his talk”.

Jungkook swears under his breath, raking a hand through his hair.

“You fucking nerd”.

He pulls you back by your pony tail and the back of your head lands on his shoulder, he tilts you slightly, so he has better access to kiss and leave more marks against your skin.

“Ah- I thank you, I’ll come in an ah- while” you say, and you hear the footsteps walk off, Jungkook spins you around and he goes to kiss you again, but you pull away.

“No, just, stop I have to go and talk”.

He looks at you “you fucking nerd” he kisses you once more, like he can't get enough of your mouth.

You pull away again.

uh what in the fuck just happened you think.

This was not meant to happen.

“Look Jungkook, I did, that is my note and I- I’ll, we can talk just not now, okay? I-I have to go. This is important"

He doesn't say anything, just watches as you fix your appearance in the mirror, an appearance he had ruined, and he smirks a little in triumph. He watches as you gather your books that had been thrown onto the floor and he watches as your ass is on display for him and God, he wishes he could grab a handful, but he doesn’t. He just watches.

You walk out the room, without so much as looking at him again and he feels oddly rejected.

He knows that you had felt good, he had heard you groan against his mouth, grind against his clothed member but he hadn't ever been walked out on before. He's not sure what exactly he is feeling. Its not a good feeling - that he was walked out on and for some old ass lecturer too.

He watches the door close, and he sits and waits for you to finish being a nerd. But truthfully it is a little hot to him that you’re so independent, you do things for yourself, your confidence and your wit, it makes you fun, you piss him off, but your company is nicer than the ones that he is used to.

He sighs what the fuck is he getting himself into.

You take a breath as you exit the room,

What in the fuck just happened? you think.

Well, when you promised Jungkook that you would talk to him you hadn't been in your right mind. Why did you agree to that like fuck? You have no idea what to even say. How do you even start that conversation like...?

"Hey, was just wondering if you would like to you know? Go on a hunt for a serial killer with me?"

Gosh this was so stupid and the kiss, gosh your face heats up as you remember the way he had kissed you - oh so sweet and so naughty!

Gosh you were in bad, as an adult you decide to deal with the problem logically, you'll just ignore him. That will work, Jungkook had a small attention span anyway. You're sure he would forget. You really hope he does.

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autisticandroids · 3 years

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Oh patron saint of mpreg, tell us, what is the absolute gold standard canon divergent mpreg scenario with Cas and Dean?

so for me the gold standard is for cas to get pregnant due to some kind of magical or metaphysical situation that dean at least does not perceive as sex. bonus points is cas is hesitant about it but refuses to explain why (because he doesn't know how dean will deal with the concept of himself being able to potentially get cas pregnant), so dean is like "we're doing it anyway" and then they do it and then cas doesn't tell anyone that he is pregnant until circumstances force the information out of him. and then dean has to deal with the fact that 1) cas can get pregnant, 2) cas is pregnant, 3) it's his, and he does so pretty poorly.

the rest is under a cut because this post is over 2.5k words long.

my favorite times for this to happen are at the end of season nine, just before dean dies and gets demonized in do you believe in miracles, and at the start of season twelve, just before sam and dean go to jail, because the pining in both those scenarios is delicious but it is so much more powerful if cas is also pregnant, and never even told dean. double points if the truth somehow comes out while they're separated so when dean comes back it's like. yeah cas is pregnant. it's yours. welcome home dean now you have to coddle cas' emotions because he thought he would have to raise your baby alone.

the season twelve scenario is particularly delicious because 1) we can have lucifer slut shaming cas in front of crowley in rock never dies, so crowley knows before dean, and 2) much more importantly, mary is there, and i am obsessed with like. okay. several things.

- the idea of mary getting all baby fever because she misses her boys and this is like. a baby she can take care of because she never got to take care of sam

- the idea of dean working through some of his parentification trauma by coparenting a child with the parent whose place he felt he had to take

- the idea of mary coming in and projecting her insane 1980s gender roles all over cas, suddenly treating him like a woman, stripping him of agency, etc. and like. dean would also do this even though he's not from the eighties, but mary would do it double strength, and they would reinforce each other, it would be a nightmare

- also mary trying to relate to cas on the Travails Of Motherhood etc. and cas being like ?????????? like i cannot stress enough that the weird gender roles she projects onto cas are also standards that she held herself to back when she was a Wife And Mother. while cas is like mary i am not a human woman and also i don't see what "having to look pretty for my man when i'm all baby bloaty" has to do with anything. that's not something i feel like i have to do

oh and 3) could you imagine lily sunder has some regrets if cas was pregnant? unfathomable episode. like ishim and mirabel's reaction but ALSO lily's. and it would fix the number one issue i have with lily sunder, which is that the resolution of the moral dilemma is "well AKSHUALLY the kid was human and not a nephilim so killing it was bad" rather than "it was bad to kill lily's baby, full stop." like ishim's cover up and using the machinery of power to manipulate the truth is very compelling, but the fact that it results in the moral essentially being "it would have been okay if the kid had been a nephilim" suuuuuucks.

basically, there's a reason i have two entire mpreg aus set in season twelve.

and then the delicious part in the season nine version is like. one, dean is away for much longer and he could be anywhere. also he's a demon and he's cheating on cas with crowley. and then even when cas gets him back he's still cursed with the mark, so we can get all weepy over that. you know. i'm the one who's going to have to watch you murder the world and i'm eight months pregnant. etc etc.

but the other thing that's juicy about this version is that cas is still semi-involved with the other angels at this point, like he's roadtripping around with hannah and they're trying to get heaven under control, so carrying a nephil is going to really affect those relationships. so he's going to be probably disliked by the other angels, and there are MANY opportunities for slut-shaming, but at the same time, the other "outcast" type angels might respect him for violating heaven's dictates.

and then of course there's his grace vampirism victorian wasting disease. in canon he's perfectly happy to let himself die, but if he were having dean's baby he would absolutely not do that, that's dean's baby he's endangering there. so of course there's the terrible guilt of having to kill other angels so he can live, plus potentially preparing to die shortly after childbirth so he doesn't have to keep killing. delicious.

and on top of all this cas can get slutshamed by metatron in, depending on when exactly he gets knocked up, meta fiction, stairway to heaven, and do you believe in miracles. plus stairway to heaven would be insane like all the angels would know that cas is pregnant. they would see it in his grace. like cas' angel army would just. know that he was pregnant with a nephil, and have to accept that because he's their leader. in love with humanity indeed.

i'm trying to think of other good times for this drama with cas getting secretly pregnant through a nonsexual interaction to take place. it would be great in season six. like: he's doing a blasphemy with his body but at the same time he's this big important rebel leader so they can't say shit about him, and also he's pregnant while fighting these big important battles (fun and sexy), AND this is like, hot on the heels of the realization that something about his feelings for dean is untoward, expands beyond the bounds of ordinary friendship and camaraderie. like he realizes that, and maybe even that he has sexual feelings for dean, and then he gets immediately knocked up. stunning.

it would ALSO be extremely fun for it to be some kind of... i don't know, magical longer gestation times, whatever, but for cas to have gotten pregnant sometime in s5 and only realized during the Year Of Lisa. LOVE to watch a man rake leaves while both metaphorically carrying the taint of taboo sexual feelings for him and literally carrying his child.

but the thing about season six is, first of all, cas isn't really... envisioning a future with dean. not the way he does in the later seasons. like does he fantasize about a future with dean? yes. like. he really did watch that motherfucker rake leaves. but it's only fantasy. he expected to never speak to dean again after swan song until dean prayed to him in the third man. he's obsessed with dean, but it's distant. remote.

like, we talk about cas babytrapping dean in the later seasons with jack, and he absolutely does, and he would do it even more if dean got him literally pregnant, but that babytrap is about... how do i put this. it's about winning dean's affection. late seasons cas knows that he's going to die by dean's side. the difference that babytrapping dean makes is that maybe it will get dean to be nice to him in the mean time, instead of discarding him like so much toilet paper.

but season six cas doesn't think of it like that. if he were gonna babytrap dean, it would be in the more traditional sense of forcing dean to stay with him in order to raise their child together. and he would never do that. he wants dean to have a happy future, which in his mind does not include him. like, compare here "he's retired and he's to stay that way" in the man who would be king, where cas assumes that dean is happy without him and expects him to live out his days peacefully without ever seeing him again, to "i'm the one who's going to have to watch you murder the world" in the prisoner, where cas assumes that he will be by dean's side for centuries.

but anyway, the other, much more important problem with season six is that cas has a war to fight. like, in the later seasons, cas really has nothing. even when he's on tenuous good terms with the angels, he doesn't really have a home with them. the winchesters are his family, and he'd give up anything for them. he has nothing in his life. he's at rock bottom, and this becomes truer the further along you go. late seasons cas has nothing he would prioritize over serving the winchesters, and he would be happy dropping anything he was involved in to have and raise dean's baby. parenting would give him a purpose that he no longer has, because everything else has been stripped from him.

but in season six cas has a life outside of them. like yes, he has a war to fight, but he also has a place in heaven, with the other angels. he belongs somewhere, he has solid connections to the outside world. even if he didn't have a war to fight, i don't know how excited he would be to have and raise a baby (even dean's baby) because he simply has other things he could be doing. he's involved in the world beyond the winchesters.

like, the reason cas wants to be a parent is that he is totally alone and totally purposeless. having a child gives him both a reason for being and someone who will always love him and who he can care for. if he doesn't have that hole in his life he might not be so eager to fill it with a baby.

for all these reasons, this plotline really doesn't work in season six, because you simply cannot justify cas not getting an abortion, unless you do something nasty like make angel abortion impossible, which i don't love.

you COULD somehow put the impregnation just at the end of season six, maybe just before the man who would be king, such that cas doesn't realize he's pregnant until he's already godstiel. you guys are unfortunately very aware of how obsessed i am with pregnant godstiel.

actually, @jeanne-de-valois has a concept of like. a single, madness fueled midnight hookup immediately pre-tmwwbk (or maybe even during, but prior to the superman mistake), where cas is simultaneously so stressed from being stretched so thin from the war and the lying and the shady dealings, and so high on being The Big Man In Heaven, that he's bold and out of his mind enough to actually come onto dean, like he just appears one night in dean's bedroom and is like, fuck me, and dean is like 👁👄👁 okay. so they have one single adrenaline and madness fueled hookup, and then everything immediately goes to shit.

and i think that's a great place for cas to get pregnant, and then he doesn't realize until he's become god, or maybe he does and he's just like "i'll deal with it later," either way godstiel is like oh? i carry dean's heir inside me? i will have dean's baby. i will have dean's baby it is my right and also my boon to him and also a symbol of my great and magnanimous love for humanity. and also maybe i will put giant paintings of myself pregnant with his child up in churches. what about that. which would be fun. don't know when he would give birth though. actually it would be insane if he gave birth as emmanuel and was just like. raising dean's nephil when dean found him again. nuts. but it just doesn't really have the same flavor as late seasons mpreg. doesn't compel me nearly as much. like the symbolism of godstiel being pregnant with dean's child is fun and sexy but them actually raising the kid afterwards doesn't compel me nearly as much, so it's better to leave literal mpreg to the later seasons and let godstiel mpreg reside in symbolism and fantasy.

or maybe the fetus gets stolen by the leviathans when cas walks into the lake and dean has to battle his leviathanated nephil daughter as the main villain of s7. like she's dick roman's secret weapon. i think that would be fun, actually. kind of an emma situation but drawn out over the whole season. and he thinks cas is dead for most of it so she's all he's got left of cas and a mess cas left for him to clean up. big sexy.

and as a bonus, i will also tell you the best time, imo, for dean to get pregnant: near the end of season eight. possibly a single, tragic farewell fuck in sacrifice when cas is planning to lock himself away in heaven and they're never gonna see each other again. and this impregnates dean with cas' nephil.

but then cas is human. and he can't do anything about it. like generally if they managed to get dean pregnant somehow, cas would immediately talk him into an abortion (which wouldn't be too hard; dean's natural white midwestern man who doesn't vote aversion to abortion would be at war with the horror of being pregnant, and the horror would win), or might not even inform dean that he's pregnant, and just quietly end the pregnancy without dean's knowledge, because cas would never put dean through that. but if cas is human, he can't do that. and furthermore, that nephil is the last evidence of his angelic nature that persists. it's the last of what he used to be, the last of his grace. and there's something absolutely delectable about that.

then of course dean would have to leave the bunker if he was pregnant with a nephil, because angels would be after him, and he wouldn't want to lead them to gadreel, so i am imagining dean discovering that he's pregnant and then showing up in a panic at the gas n sip like "actually cas i'm also out of the bunker will you go on the run with me?" and then they go on the run and have to live in motels again and cas gets to live with take care of dean who is pregnant with his child which is essentially his dream, and he doesn't have to feel guilty because he's no longer capable of giving dean an abortion so he doesn't feel obligated to get him to have one. ideally cas gets re-angeled just in time to give dean an angelic c-section. or maybe they rely on a normal human c-section in a hospital and cas stays human and they are two humans raising their nephil, which is also fun to me.

#spn #asks #anonymous #mpregpocalypse

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rumblelibrary · 3 years

Note

I was listening to Dust to Dust by The Civil Wars and it came to my mind that this song would be a great source of inspiration for a headcanon for Modern!Laszlo Kreizler. What do you think?

What me? Crying my eyes out??? How did you know?

The night was happy and light, the chorus of laughter that bursted around him made his lips twitch instinctively into a tensed smile.

A sense of emptiness pervading him, a sense of loss even though in the happiest of times: the case was solved, the disappeared child was back.

The joyous parents kissing those puffy cheeks, Sara sipping her wine and darting engaging looks at John. Laszlo scratched his cheek lightly as he observed them, he didn’t need all those degrees to see what was bare in front of his eyes. His soft scratching was a mix between a show of tension and a reassurance to himself.

After all that running around, fear of finding the corpse of a child, after all that begging and researching and striving.

Then why happiness didn’t hit him? Why there was no relief?

He knew the truth, but the reality of things was that he wasn’t ready to admit it.

“Already going away?” John asked him as he picked up his coat from the chair where he abandoned it.

“Yes, I have an early round of appointments tomorrow”

“We couldn’t have done it without your insight” John insisted. To celebrate in the conference room of the police station just showed how much the happy ending of such a potential tragedy struck everyone.

Laszlo’s eyes darted slowly over the happy family in the corner, the father holding the baby daughter kissing her cheeks as the mother kept a steady hand on her small back, her smile was everything that a sight should be graced of: fullness, undivided love and tenderness.

“I know” Laszlo said only making John huff and chuckle joking that he is humble as always. Laszlo only smiled holding the coat under his arm as he gave him a nod and left.

Only once he was out he realised he came in John’s car, so he resumed to walk his way home, he needed some fresh air.

He never regretted his divorce, he was dragging a dead horse. His ex wife hated the guts of him and he never realised how much he didn’t trust her until the time to get parted came. Until he saw how many times he closed, how many times he felt that she was there to hurt him and, ultimately, she did when the right time came.

He brought it upon himself, that’s what he kept saying.

He tried, but not hard enough, he offered his heart but her pain was so vivid back then that he wondered did he ever gave it all? Or maybe he just believed it, he believed to have done it.

The happy smile of the woman that just had her baby back kept hunting him, the unfiltered happiness they felt caused him a primal form of envy that he refused to acknowledge to himself.

The soft tug on his back woke him from his trail of thoughts. Hand pulling his shirt shooting him back to reality.

A lone man walking home with the damn expensive watch he wore, any other person would have been worried.

And yet, when he turned around and saw you he was the worried one, like you just pointed a gun at him. He opened his mouth lightly but didn’t speak up.

“John told me you left, I hoped to catch up on you”

The way you spoke, the way you smiled, the little huffing in your breath showing you run after him. This is so wrong. He kept telling himself.

He just, he didn’t deserve this, the way you looked at him.

You’re just good at crushing anyone else Laszlo.

The words of his ex engraved onto his mind more than he would ever admit.

“I was just going home”

“Are you close?”

“Yes”

You looked at him with a soft sigh veiled by a smile, like you were dealing with some stubborn child.

“May I walk with you?”

“If you like”

“I do”

He titled his head down looking up at your frame, the way you looked at him teasing something inside him, something that was scratching, a loud white noise in the back of his head that you made audible.

He moved on side as you positioned yourself on his right.

You didn’t speak as you just walked with him, he didn’t talk either.

A shiver run through him, a sense of nervousness pervading him as his street got nearer after every step.

“You should go home, I mean, it is already late, I could call you a taxi”

“Do you really want to get rid of me, don’t you?”

He didn’t answer, because the answer was yes.

He needed to keep you far from him, since he met you your presence was both joy and pain to his eyes.

You sparked a new light, you opened his mind, got his interest. Hearing you talk, watching you move, even the smallest quirks and the little pet peeves of you. Everything was entertaining to him. He felt this need, the need to get under your skin, both mentally and physically. He wondered how it is to blend against your body, to kiss your lips, to taste your tears and your skin. He wondered if you cry while watching sad films, if you have childhood fears, if you talk in your sleep. He wondered if you ever found him attractive, if you’d refrain from his touch, if your kisses begin slow or passionate.

The truth was that he was the one not ready for you, he was the one afraid to let you touch him, to be bare with someone once again.

“I live here” He said noticing the apartments building standing on his left.

You looked up at it and smirked as it was an old building, one of those that survived after hundreds of restyling and it ket this old beginning of 1900 kind of feeling.

“Can I come in?”

“You’re shameless” he said as he indeed was admiring your persistence.

“Also that”

He looked at you for a moment, you didn’t blink away, not even for a second.

Just leave, please, just go away, stay with me, no go, better if you go.

He kept debating inside himself as you waited silently.

“I can’t do this”

You leaned your head on side at his words, you waited for him to explain himself.

“This thing, I mean, I can’t really get anyone in my apartment, alright? It is still a work in progress”

“You have done fooling me around with your excuses Laszlo” you said to him “you can’t take decisions for me and you won’t”

“I am not good at this, I will just hurt you, I am good at the beginnings but I just fail with time, I get sloppy, I won’t be a good choice on the long run”

“Laszlo” you interrupted his rambling as he stared at you. His eyes were begging you, begging you not to force him into this.

“Stop it now” you took a step forward as the space between you two closed abruptly, he felt the warmth radiating from you, the way your eyes shone for him, a sense of being lost and found taking over him, the unreasonable fear of something happening at that ungodly hour, like the building falling, anything, something that will ruin this moment.

“Aren’t you tired?”

You asked it so simply and yet he felt like he was the child that got lost in the night and was now being found again.

He parted his lips, eyes erratically escaping yours as he looked for any word, any excuse, any reason.

“Terribly”

He just said it as your hand gently raised, it was a slow movement like you were about to touch some frightened animal.

His eyes were fixed onto yours as your fingertips traced his cheek and up his temple. Your hand was a little cold against his skin, yet warm into your intentions. He leaned forward slowly pressing his forehead against yours.

“I can’t do this to you”

You smiled as your hand gently moved down his neck giving him a soft caress.

“You have been lonely for too long” you whispered.

He opened his eyes slowly, dark lids blinking into yours as his jaw tightened, a little redness forming as he tried to conceal the emotions running through him.

“Don’t let me hurt you”

“You won’t”

“I will”

“Then I’ll be there” you just said “I’ll be there for you, for us”

He shivered closing the space between the two of you with a sealing kiss, the push that got through him, like his whole body rebelled his mind, made him crush you against the heavy bricks of the entrance.

You could almost sense the immediate regret he felt, but you tugged him in, you pulled him closer as your lips sweetened the kiss from its initial desperation.

There was no pain in what it was about to begin and you wanted him to feel it.

You had no fear, no fear of the empty dark spaces of his mind, of the loneliness of his soul or the searing pain of his past.

You watched him consume himself for too long.

The time of excuses was over, and as your hands cupped his cheeks and whispered softly to him he could almost feel the abrupt silence of his mind after the loud noise of you tearing down his first defence wall fainted into that kiss.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams@charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling @everythingbeginsineternity-blog @archangelproperty

#laszlo kreizler #dr laszlo kreizler #modern!laszlokreizler #modern!laszlo kreizler #the alienist au #laszlo kreizler x y/n #laszlo kreizler x you #laszlo kriezler x reader #laszlo kreizler imagine #laszlo kreizler headcanons

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the-descolada · 3 years

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Penny and Winter as Symbolic Human Machines

So honestly, I’m really impressed by how well done the ending of RWBY Volume 8 was with regard to character arcs being fulfilled, especially for Penny and Winter. I’ve seen a lot of takes, some that I somewhat agree with, and some that I just don’t, that Penny’s death was “bad writing,” and I think that, subjectivity of what constitutes bad writing aside, this is ignoring a lot of aspects of V7/V8 that made for a very compelling narrative, and feels heavily based in just people wanting Penny to not have died.

And I get this! Penny is one of my favorite characters and I’m very sad that she died; however, I really actually loved how fitting her death was for her story and the broader story of RWBY as a whole, so I wanted to do a write-up of my whole rant on this so that people could read it and see my thought process for why this only made me love Penny’s writing more. I’m not necessarily going to ascribe value to the writing itself in this analysis, as that is highly subjective, but I am biased so that’ll shine through some.

V7 through V8 had a lot of moments that frankly I hadn’t picked up on right up until the end that worked to build a dynamic interplay between Penny and Winter’s characters. Specifically, Penny's role is of a literal robot becoming less of a machine in the thematic sense and more of a person throughout, contrasting with Winter, who, while she is helping Penny realize herself as more of a person and less of a tool, is going through the opposite experience herself. This is essentially textual - it’s explicitly said by Winter herself in less words during the Maiden power transfer scene in V8E14.

When we as the audience reconnect with Winter at the start of V7, she is firmly entrenched as Ironwood’s confidante and second-in-command, serving as a face of the Atlas military as it squeezes Mantle. It’s safe to say that not many Mantle citizens like her very much, but she is insulated from this and continues to follow orders without regard for the welfare of the people. Ironwood at this point is already extremely authoritarian, even though he hasn’t graduated to full on dictatorship and declared martial law yet, and his will is also imposed on her through bringing her into the fold with the chief purpose of grooming (god this word feels grossly fitting given their dynamic) her to become the next Winter Maiden.

Winter, despite holding a a significant level of power and authority due to her military rank, has very little agency in this decision. She insists that her choice to take up the duty as Ironwood ordered is something she’s grown into and chosen, but it’s alarmingly clear that this is not the case; nearly every action she takes in V7 is still fully in the purview of Atlas (read: Ironwood)’s goals. I would go so far as to suggest that Ironwood giving her this position within the military after she escapes her father’s influence is intentionally conditioning her to view him as the sole way out of an abusive situation, and to disguise the fact that this new situation is just as abusive as the first below the surface.

Penny’s role in V7 is completely in opposition to this; while she is still theoretically under the control of the Atlas military, she is presented as the Protector of Mantle and seems to be beloved by the people. Our immediate image of her in Atlas is one of emotion and caring; she is overjoyed to see her friends from Beacon again, and this continues throughout the volume as she talks about what it means to be a person with them, Ruby and Winter especially. When things start going wrong and she is accused of killing people through the doctored footage from the rally, she is horrified at the prospect of being seen as a monster and continues to make every decision with the aim of protecting everyone around her, even at the expense of what her “duty” to Atlas might be. It’s clear that she is growing into her own agency, rather than being beholden to what Ironwood wants for her, and this helps prove to herself that she is her own person, not simply a tool of the military, not a machine.

The climactic scene of V7 takes these two character arcs running in strained parallel and drives a wedge between them, even as they battle a common enemy side by side. Winter’s devotion to Atlas (read: Ironwood) results in self-destructive tendencies, uncaring for her personal survival if it would further a goal that she ultimately and ironically does not truly believe in. Penny, however, begins to entirely shake this duty, risking even the Maiden power going to Cinder if it means saving Winter from dying. To her, personal feelings (ding ding ding!) and personal friendships mean more than duty to a state, or even (as we see later) her own well-being. Self destructive tendencies aside, this loyalty to people she earnestly cares about, who earnestly care about her, is loaded with symbolism that separates her from the metaphor of machine.

The result of the V7 finale reinforces the track the two of them are on; Winter, having been molded into a machine of the military, fails in her duty, while Penny, who has begun to recognize herself more and more as a person, succeeds at keeping the power from Cinder. She still has a massive amount of self-doubt and deep-seated fear that she doesn’t count as a person, but the Maiden power, being the perfect thematic symbol of “maidenhood”, goes to her, proving her to be a “real girl” and reinforcing the ongoing narrative. Winter, battling her own mixed feelings over being chosen for the power, never questions this; it’s clear that she, too, recognizes that Penny “was always the real Maiden, while [she] was the machine.” This also reinforces Penny’s narrative being heavily trans-coded, but I think that’s pretty obvious and doesn’t need to be reiterated. The two of them part sides here, one remaining with the Atlas military and one actively rebelling against it.

As Ironwood starts going off the deep end at the end of V7 and throughout V8 and starts sacrificing everyone around him to fuel his own narrow and tyrannical view of how to save Atlas, Winter simply...falls in line. She is continually forced to follow harsher and harsher orders, and any choices she makes as part of that, with only two exceptions, still are entirely in service to Ironwood. She has become, in essence, a machine locked into a set path, a path she, conflicted as she may be, follows all the way up to a choice she cannot abide - mass murder. Even orders that would result in her sister’s closest friends’ deaths she follows unquestioningly - it’s unclear whether she would have actually gone through with it, since the option is taken off the table by forces outside her control, but she certainly says as much in her conversation with Marrow. Only the prospect of annihilating the entire city of Mantle finally snaps her off the track Ironwood has set her on, making her recognize that all of this has never been for Atlas at all, but for Ironwood’s own ego. Fittingly, finally seeing Ironwood as her enemy and not a savior, she is tasked with taking him down herself.

Contrasting this, Penny’s role in V8 is entirely one of rebellion. The entire volume is her building her agency more and more, making decisions based on what she thinks is right and what she values. She rarely listens to any one person telling her what to do; even her father, who she loves dearly, isn’t able to make her do something when her sense of justice is on the line. Ironwood no longer has his hold on her for the most part; any attempt at manipulating her into doing something against her own morals is met with defiance, supported by her friends’ love for her. She has to be outright hacked to be forced into doing his bidding, and she fights this all the way down, her own inherent personhood pushing back against this attempt to dehumanize her. In this sense, even her becoming organic symbolizes this; she and the people she cares about defy this dehumanization of her, finding a way to free her from the last remaining vestiges of Atlesian influence and further reclaiming her own agency.

And what does she do with that agency when she is faced with oblivion? She simultaneously affirms it by making her final choice in a desperate situation, defying Cinder’s attempt to rip her power away, and also gifts it in the form of the Maiden power to the woman who she is watching attempting to also shake the shackles of Atlas, symbolically showing Winter her own inherent humanity. This decision, though dire, is in recognition of what is most important to her: her friends. Even believing half of them are dead, she gives up her life to ensure the rest survive. In the final moment she has with Winter, she reassures her that she won’t be really gone: the memory of her choice and who she is as a person will live on through Winter’s continued choices, through her agency.

In the end, neither of them were machines; just two hurt people fighting back against a brutal world that sought to strip their agency away. The tragedy in this conclusion, that that brutal world took one of their lives away, is fought just as defiantly. Penny knows that gifting the power in her soul to Winter means that her death won’t be meaningless, that her agency will last beyond her mortality and might result in the world finally being freed from the threat of destruction. It’s because of hope, not despair, that she makes her final choice.

#rwby spoilers #rwby8 spoilers #my writing #CRITICAL ANALYSIS TIME #i've been meaning to write up my rant on this for months #rwby #winter schnee #penny polendina

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therealjammy · 3 years

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The Lady of Half-Death

Hi, hello, posting this here for the Tumblr crowd, in case you don’t feel like venturing to Ao3.

This work’s alternate title: “Lucky One”

Content Warnings: Very NSFW, a brief but graphic depiction of violence. (This work is meant for 18+ only!)

It’s also told in first person POV, the Forbidden Perspective, so sorry if that’s not your jam.... Thank you for reading xx

November, 1937

On a bitter November day, early in the morning, I was roused by the tinkling of the bell hanging beside my bed. Being Mother Miranda’s most competent servant, I was long used to a summons during the small hours of the dark. She was night’s creature, bent over her studies and her subjects until a bitter sun lit the sky, almost unaware of time’s passage, while her servants kept in perfect time with every striking hour. I splashed sleep from my features with bitterly cold water from the basin on my dresser and wrapped myself in my warmest robe. I lit a candelabra, savoring its small warmth as I donned my silver mask. It had frightened me at first, how the servants wore these metal things elongated into an elegantly startling bird’s beak, but when serving the Lady of Ravens, one had to know to whom they pledged their loyalty, both inside and outside the house’s grounds. Though the metal was light, it still made one’s head ache after only a few minutes of wear, and was a constant irritation after many hours. But like a pain that was more a nuisance than anything, it was easily set aside.

I walked quickly through dark hallways and creaking staircases, passing through rooms whose furniture was covered in sheets and rooms whose contents were not. Each was quiet as the long-dead.

The doors to the laboratory opened on soundless hinges. Inside, there was only a spotlight on the latest occupied table and the stoic figure of Mother Miranda leaning over it, her hands coated in deep crimson, her subject unmoving. Her face was drawn into a deep, displeasured frown.

“What may I bring you, ma’am?” I asked carefully.

“Tea, Trudy,” replied Mother Miranda. By the ancient tiredness in her voice, I knew the kind I ought to fetch.

Staying true to her grief, Mother Miranda had a fondness for black tea, steeped for five minutes to be strong, made stronger with a dollop of Sanguis Virginis, a sweet but robust red wine made by Lady Dimitrescu. She kept the largest bottle for herself, but sent a smaller one to Mother Miranda every winter. The bottle was red and adorned with golden flowers crawling up its sides.

By the time I brought the fresh tea to her, Mother Miranda’s hands were washed of blood, and the subject on the table was covered with a white sheet, slowly turning scarlet. I set the teacup and candelabra beside her and gave a professional distance.

“The nature of science,” Mother Miranda said, picking up the teacup, “is to fail again and again.” She held it delicately. There was rage underneath that delicacy. “Every vessel thus far has been unfit, even if it’s accepted the Cadou, and with each unfit one I feel as if I am losing her more.”

“You might feel like Tantalus, ma’am,” I said after a pause, “with your goals evading your grasp, but I rather think you must be like Orpheus.”

“Attempt until death,” she murmured. “Yes, child, I believe you’re right.” A long sip of tea. Underneath her golden mask, her pink lips turned a deep red. She set the cup gently in its saucer and rose from her chair, black robes shuffling quietly. “Come. Let us begin anew.”

I lifted the mutilated subject from the table, wrapping the sheet about her carefully, and carried her fresh limpness to the courtyard with the others. Her cooling blood seeped from the sheet and onto my robes, and it dripped onto the bricks and my feet, leaving a sticky trail. It was cloying, but it was a sweet perfume compared to the rich decay that wafted from the courtyard’s cold soil. In the dark, I saw there was already a space made for her. I lay her carefully in it. A good sacrifice deserved gentleness once the deed was done, after all. In that sense, I was more merciful than Mother Miranda. Once a body was no longer of use, she would carry it out herself and toss them hastily aside, for only one body mattered above the rest.

“In life and in death,” I said over the grave, “we give glory to Mother Miranda.”

I sprinkled a handful of dirt over the covered girl and left her to the bitter, near-winter air.

Inside again, I scrubbed the table twice with soapy water and dried it thoroughly. I lit more candles, placing them around the table’s edges, away from the notes that Mother Miranda spread across the surface. While she organized them, I brewed another pot of tea, bringing it and the gifted bottle of Sanguis Virginis with me. When I had poured my own cup, Mother Miranda gestured to the wine. Pour that in, too. I obeyed without question. Grey eyes watched me drink, unchanging even when I made no face at the taste of wine and blood mixing with strong black tea. I’d learned long ago that reactions caused reactions. I remained impassive, though my stomach still curdled and rebelled at the taste of the sinful wine. To the others—Mother Miranda and Lady Dimitrescu— the wine was a sweet and prized possession. If ever it was sold, it would be incredibly expensive.

I brought a chair and perched myself next to Mother Miranda. It was always a thrill to be at her side, to study her volumes of notes and drawings and glimpse the way her mind worked. But more than that, I cherished the nights like this, when it was only the two of us. I enjoyed her company. I desired more of it, because I desired her. At times I believed she knew this, but then she would dismiss me so easily, brush by without a care, and I’d question if she knew at all.

Attraction, I reminded myself, was a science, too, and like an experiment gone horribly wrong, it was best if one didn’t share the results.

I cleared my throat and straightened in my chair. “We should begin where this one failed,” I said. “Pinpoint a reason, compare it to the rest.”

We pored over notes for hours, comparing observations, Mother Miranda writing furiously in her looping scrawl underneath a page titled Quinn. The candles burned low, and the sky lightened outside the laboratory’s several windows, revealing a cold, white-filled dawn.

“The conclusion is painfully obvious,” Mother Miranda sighed at last, pushing her nearly empty teacup aside. It’d turned cold hours ago. “I must find a truly unique vessel. The village is rotting with diluted blood and therefore cannot be used again. Three of the Lords—those children!—were ones I found outside. Diluted in other ways, perhaps, but strong enough.”

“Yet you declared them all unfit,” I remarked.

“Because they were too much,” Mother Miranda said stiffly, “and the rest have been too little. They served their miserable purpose and now I must find yet another clean slate! And to think I’d chosen so carefully…” A hand curled into a fist, clenched improperly due to taloned fingertips.

“Send me to the field, Mother Miranda,” I said. “I will search for you.” But it was the wrong thing to say, for her other hand darted quickly out and knocked her teacup and saucer from the table. They shattered on the floor, black-red tea pooling around their remains.

“Do not be dim, child; it cannot be done by you. It must be me.” She paused for a long moment, coming back to herself with a single, sharp shake of her head. “Please,” Mother Miranda said around a breath, “forgive my outburst.” She moved smoothly to the shattered teacup just as I did. We knelt out of time but reached for the same piece, her gold-plated fingers brushing my bare ones, sending a brief, hot shock through my being that ended in my chest.

“You need never ask my forgiveness, Mother Miranda,” I said, slowly withdrawing my hand and reaching for a different piece. “A woman in grief doesn’t know her own actions.” And it was her grief, I thought then, that made my heart ache for her. That made everyone’s hearts ache for her. Mother lost a child, they’d say. No greater tragedy exists. We must be kind.

“Grief is some people’s undoing,” Mother Miranda said. She had stopped picking up shards of teacup, a few pieces cradled in a hand. Her gaze was on the puddle of bloody, wine-soaked tea. “It festers like a splinter left in too long, or a piece of metal unable to be dislodged, and it consumes, until its host perishes with it. I’ve known it for many stretches, but rather than give myself to despair, I have chosen determination; for the parasite cannot fully live while its host fights it. So fight I must.”

Her face was a pale reflection on the tea’s surface.

II.

The next morning, a snowy one, Mother Miranda went for a walk. In her absence, her rule passed to me, and then to the Head Housemaid Vera, a stout older woman who kept the other servants in strict line. I was, however, only consulted for advice or for orders. Other than that, I was blessedly alone, a spectre haunting the laboratory while I organized Mother Miranda’s notes and gave into my own musings, letting my mind take up the cluttered space. Many things ran through it: thoughts of my former life, of the people I’d once seen and never would again, and if I followed that line, I knew exactly how I’d come to be here. Sitting alone in a tepid laboratory, surrounded by paper, rotting with attraction.

It’d been there from the beginning, for there was always attraction to a leader, and many reasons behind it. People were attracted to safety and to comfort, to promises and protection, but highest of all, a deity that preached all the above. People backed off their words more often than they gave in to them, but a deity never would; their word was given and kept. It was learned, it was ingrained, and so like everyone else, I held that same attraction. I gazed upon the same likenesses of Mother Miranda and prayed for protection, for strength. I prayed to one day work for her—the highest blessing of all!—and that prayer was answered. She came to my door in all her godly glory and the paintings held no candle to her real beauty.

The attraction molted once I’d begun to work for her properly. She was aloof and cruel and methodical, but there was talent and beauty, too, and soon enough I began to realize there was a person underneath the deity. And it was the person whom I thought of, now, wondering where her walk was taking her, who she was talking to, what she was thinking. I imagined her underneath a cold white sky, ashy flakes of snow sticking to her black robes and veil, the harsh, mountainous landscape reflecting her own desolation back at her.

I thought, as I filed the last of the notes away, that I would make her return easier. Oftentimes her walks changed her mood; one never knew the sort she’d bear when she walked through the doors. It could be the silent sort of rage, during which she’d seal the doors of her laboratory shut and refuse to emerge for days, or the one where she’d return with a deadly ice in her eyes and drag the nearest servant by the wrist to her chambers. Sometimes they’d be alive and shuffle from the room with their clothes barely on; other times there was an unfortunate mess to clear away.

During my luncheon, I called Vera to me and ordered the most frequented rooms be given a thorough cleaning, excluding the laboratory and Mother Miranda’s bathroom.

“And her dinner?” asked Vera, once she’d given the orders to four maids. “Something comforting, I assume, as the latest loss is still ripe in the courtyard.”

“Yes,” I agreed. “A shepherd’s pie with marmite in the gravy, and the bottle of Sanguis Virginis.”

“Very good, Miss Bevan.” Vera bowed her head and left.

I went over the bathroom myself, being careful to put every object in its proper place. I drew a bath, the water unbearably hot, but by the time Mother Miranda returned, it would be perfect.

I loitered for a long while in the bathroom’s silence, sat on the chessboard floor, gazing out the window to the snow-covered hills, the occasional drip, drip of the tub’s taps serenading me into a trance, filled with visions of blonde hair and grey-blue eyes and impeccable hands.

I wasn’t the first to think of her in this light. Far from it. Worship came in many forms, after all, and many people fell to this one. Except mine was to the woman I knew, not to the idol emblazoned on a shrine dangling from a peeling wall.

Unable to think of nothing but the bathroom’s suddenly stifling heat and the absent Mother Miranda, I left, unaware of where I was going until I collapsed on the chair I’d occupied earlier, everything about me aching for someone who saw me only as a servant in high regard—but a servant nonetheless. The fact, I thought, unbuttoning my uniform enough to feel cool air caress my chest, made me desire her all the more.

I propped a shoed foot on the seat’s corner to give myself better access and began my pleasure gently, my head falling against the back of the chair once the rhythm was established, my free hand indecisive on where it wanted to stay—a breast, the chair’s edge, the table; at least until my mind offered me a vision of Mother Miranda ordering me, from between my thighs, to keep it planted firmly on the chair’s edge. There it stayed while my other moved, and behind my closed eyes I saw a skilled tongue working me up, teasing, licking slowly as if to claim ownership to even that part of me; I saw intense eyes meeting my own, telling me to give myself over; in my mind I whispered my glory to her. I twitched erratically, my movements almost clumsy; a few moments more and I’d be tumbling into the blissful void—or would have, had I not heard the door open and the familiar, near-silent movement of the woman living in my head.

The silence that beat between us lasted only a moment and yet it felt like centuries. Mother Miranda’s eyes narrowed to deadly slits, and before I could manage to stumble out an explanation, she strode to me in five heavy steps.

“You dare defile this space with your musings?” Mother Miranda hissed, her grip on my wrist vicelike. “Do you not know how ill I find this gesture? How ill it makes me to think you care naught for the meaning of this room?” Claws slashed at my cheek, the first sting of it only surprise at first; it burned when I realized she’d cut flesh. I felt blood welling, but I could not bring a hand up to staunch its flow. Nor could I staunch the fresh wave of heat that pooled in my core at Mother Miranda’s fury. Cold eyes darted from my still-wet hand to my face. Mother Miranda scoffed, roughly releasing my wrist. “Attraction is a damned wicked creature,” she said. “It morphs perspective and thought. It makes one act rashly, makes one believe they’re subtle. You think I’ve not seen your lingering gazes, child? How you bask in my company the way you would underneath the sun? How you are afraid of my rage but it arouses you all the same?” She chuckled lightly, dragging gold-tipped fingers over my cheek, the metal blessedly cool against my heated skin. Having spent so much time in close quarters with this woman, I was no longer terrified by the talons. Their scraping made the coil in my belly curl tighter, and if she were to slip bare fingers against me, she would find me all too ready for her. I met her eyes with a steely look of my own, hoping she wouldn’t see shame, but Mother Miranda was wise in ways I couldn’t fathom. She saw through people as if they were cheesecloth.

She hummed, fingers roving lower, tracing my pulse hammering in my throat. “Is there any shame about you, Trudy? I should think so, as you are not my equal.” Moving lower still, to the buttons I hadn’t undone, hovering like she wished to tear them—and perhaps she did, for her hand gave a small twitch. “I am higher than you will ever be, yet you stand here, gazing at me so defiantly, trembling with your want of me… Do you think it will make you rise to my level?”

Her words were fog clouding the forests of my brain. I could think of nothing but how I wanted to serve her, to fall to my knees and pledge fealty, even if it was sworn with her hand guiding my mouth between her thighs. I said, “No, Mother Miranda.”

“No, indeed. But,” a taloned thumb slid over my lower lip, “it’ll bring me pleasure to see you try.”

When she kissed me, it was with a slowness that one could believe was care, but I sensed the possession. I opened my mouth to it, leaned into it, every nerve alight at the thrill of kissing someone I had once dreamed of serving under. Her hands drew me close to her, splaying across my back, bunching up my uniform, and her kisses became rougher, filled with need. I met every one with a need of my own, my shaking fingers undoing the rest of the buttons down my front. The movement caught Mother Miranda’s eye; she pulled back, her gaze intense, the color high in her cheeks, watching intently as the top half of my uniform parted and revealed bare skin. She reached out, two fingers gliding smoothly over my collarbones, my sternum, tracing the swell of a breast; gooseflesh rose in the touches’ wake, and my breathing trembled.

“You are practically untouched,” Mother Miranda said quietly. There was, to her, no greater sin than a specimen that remained unstudied and uncatalogued.

“Only practically, Mother Miranda,” I returned.

She leaned down, burying her face against my bloodied neck. Lips pressed softly, tongue lapping slowly— tasting me. “Have you not known love?” she said. “Or devotion?”

“Fleetingly.” There was the blacksmith, Cristian, in whose strong arms I felt safe. There was Tatiana, who made me feel at peace even after our desperate acts. But with this life, they were fleeting. To serve one of the Lords or Mother Miranda herself, it was until death. “The only devotion I know,” I continued, my voice growing thinner the lower her mouth travelled, “is to you.”

Mother Miranda hummed against my chest. “You worshipped well, then, Trudy,” she said, rising, taking my chin between two fingers and tilting my face up to hers, “but what of now? How shall you prove your worth to me?”

I grasped her unoccupied hand and pressed it against my breast, holding it there. I wanted her to feel it, to feel my heart underneath it, to know she could reach in and take it because I offered it to her. “Take what you will,” I said.

What was left of her resolve crumbled. Mother Miranda swept me into her arms with a low growl, lifting me as easily as she would a child and setting me hastily onto the table we’d cleaned the night before. Impatient fingers worked the rest of my clothes away. She tossed them aside and pressed me into the cold wood, impossibly dark eyes drinking me in, lingering on my neck, my breasts, my thighs. Places I hoped she would kiss. Places she did, in that order, her mouth untamed, leaving harsh love-marks behind. Throughout that act, she didn’t once touch me; I was strung so tightly that even one finger tracing me would’ve been my undoing. It was a sort of torturous study, I realized, clamping my tongue between my teeth when it nearly made me beg for release; she was seeing me as a case, testing my own resolve. How long could she make me wait before I begged forgiveness? Time ceased to exist. I could not tell how long she made me hang.

When she finally did touch me, I was relieved. Instead of a sigh, a long whimper escaped my mouth. Mother Miranda groaned in response, her fingers twitching and pausing against me, surprised at the slick want they found. Her second touch was heavier, more confident. My hands couldn’t help but cling to the back of her neck, which was covered by a thick cotton veil. I realized I’d touched her without her consent, but when I made to pull away, her free hand came to rest over both of mine, and together we slid the veil from her head.

Blonde hair, a darker gold in the dim light of the laboratory, fanned around her face, gracing my bare forearms, soft as silk. Without the veil, it was tantamount to seeing her naked.

“Cling to me,” Mother Miranda breathed.

It was as much permission as I was going to receive.

I buried my hands in her hair and leaned up to kiss her. I accepted her tongue when it slipped between my teeth. I opened for her when, at last, she slid fingers inside me.

And when she truly took me, she devoured me, sprinkling evidence of her use across any expanse of skin she could reach, uncaring if teeth dug in too much, if my back was rubbed raw from the wooden table, if her golden talons left angry scratches. I clung harshly to her during my crisis, my cries only winding her further, for when I was barely limp, she withdrew entirely and carried me to her own chamber. Deposited on her bed, I watched through bliss-filled eyes as she undressed.

Black robes pooled at her feet. In the blue-white moonlight, she was harshly ethereal. Everything about her seemed to glow, including her eyes. And sprouting from her back were five pairs of midnight wings. I wanted to catalogue it as a dream, a delusion caused by a mind still recovering from an intense crisis, but the wings, like Mother Miranda’s arms and legs, were very much a part of her.

“Look while you can,” she said. “Commit it to memory, for true revelations are rarely given so freely.”

She stood for study, allowing me to take in every inch. My eyes lingered where hers had lingered on me.

“Do you reject me, Trudy?” she questioned softly.

“No, Mother Miranda,” I replied. I offered her my hand. “I’d fall to my knees in prayer if I were not otherwise occupied.”

She accepted my hand and leaned over me on her bed, naked and otherworldly, and in my long, exquisite worship of her, I met death eye to eye and thought there would never be another equal.

#resident evil #resident evil village #fanfic #mother miranda #mother miranda x oc #mother miranda x reader

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dindjarindiaries · 3 years

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10 Underrated Quotes from Season 2 of The Mandalorian

As previously seen with season one, I’m here with another list of underrated quotes from The Mandalorian—this time, from season two. I’m going to highlight some of my favorite quotes from the season or quotes that stick out to me and why I think they’re noteworthy.

I don’t own any rights to content from The Mandalorian and, if you haven’t watched season two yet, potential spoilers are ahead!

1. “Pay attention when a superior addresses you.” (Chapter 15: The Believer)

While this scene certainly isn’t underrated, I believe this line spoken by Valin Hess when he finally catches Din Djarin’s attention by the Imperial terminal deserves some reflection. It’s interesting to think about how responding to Hess’ first call of “Trooper” is something Djarin just... wouldn’t think to do, or is something he thought he could get away with. It seems that Mandalorians, while they value their leadership, don’t focus on hierarchical structures in their society, so Djarin isn’t used to having to obey orders like that. It’s even worse that he has to deal with this unfamiliar situation without his helmet for the first time since he was a child. It really draws our attention to how little Djarin knows about the Empire and other organizations outside of his covert.

2. “This is the Way.” (Chapter 11: The Heiress)

I think many of us can agree that the first time this statement is uttered in this episode, we’re less than pleased about it, thanks to Bo-Katan’s ridiculing tone. When it happens later on, however, there’s so much meaning packed behind the words. First, from Bo-Katan, who has witnessed Mando’s bravery firsthand and has likely realized how wrong she was making assumptions about him based off his covert and his traditions. In return, Mando’s response of the phrase is strained. Why? Well, it’s up to interpretation—but to me, I think it’s because Mando’s in awe of the idea of these Mandalorians who have already proven their abilities to him actually coming to respect him and the Way he’s known ever since he was a child. It was a great moment of reconciliation.

3. “Is he speaking? Do you... understand him?” (Chapter 13: The Jedi)

Something I love about this line in particular is the way it’s delivered. There’s such desperation concealed behind Mando’s modulator that tells us so much about what he’s been thinking while pacing the forest floor nervously. This desperation also tells us how eager he’s been to communicate with his child. Mando and Grogu have been together for a long time, now, and we know they’ve had plenty of one-sided conversations. I’m sure Mando has longed to know what Grogu’s been thinking in return, and now that he might have an opportunity to, we can really hear that sheer curiosity and desperation in his voice with this line he offers to Ahsoka.

4. “Jet back, you’re faster that way.” (Chapter 12: The Siege)

I’m sure we all have our mixed opinions about the season one Nevarro crew, but this moment in particular really strikes the depth of their friendship and companionship. Once they’ve all heard about Moff Gideon’s return and his request to get the child once again, there’s no doubt in anyone’s minds that Mando wouldn’t be going back for him immediately. Even though the job isn’t completely done and Greef, Cara, and Mythrol all still need a way out, they don’t even try to ask for Mando’s help. Instead, Cara insists that he gets back as fast as he can, even if that means the three of them don’t make it out themselves. I really love how that shared understanding and dedication to the child in all situations shows their deep friendship amongst the trio (and Mythrol).

5. “I’ve spent much time on Tatooine. I never saw a Mandalorian there.” (Chapter 9: The Marshal)

Mando’s response to Gor Karesh insisting that he knows of a Mandalorian on Tatooine could potentially be telling us more than we’re aware of. As far as we know, Mando’s only been to Tatooine once—and it was only for two days, tops. But here, he’s saying he’s “spent much time” there, which means it’s possible that Mando lived on Tatooine for a time while the Bounty Hunter’s Guild still operated out of there. If you think about it more, Mando knew exactly where to go for some work in Chapter 5, another hint that there’s more to Mando’s time on Tatooine than we’re aware of. The same thing could be said about his knowledge of Tusken and his friendship with the Sand People. Any time we get a potential hint of Mando’s backstory, I’m excited about it!

6. “Am I under arrest?” (Chapter 10: The Passenger)

This line comes quickly in the midst of Mando’s conversation with the New Republic pilots in Chapter 10, but I really love it. These few words say a lot about Mando’s character and how he responds to praise. He’s just been told all about his heroics in Chapter 6, when he risked his own life for Lieutenant Davan and reprimanded Mayfeld, Xi’an, and Burg—and when asked whether it was true, Mando offers no confirmation. He doesn’t even own up to his good acts. Instead, he simply acts this question, remaining the practical man we know him to be. This truly shows us the humble nature of Mando and how he tries his best to focus on the present rather than dwelling on things he’s done in the past, good or bad.

7. “... talent without training is nothing.” (Chapter 16: The Rescue)

On the surface, this seems like a very practical statement that many Jedi make throughout the series (see Ahsoka talking to Mando in Chapter 13 and Obi-Wan talking to Luke in Episode IV: A New Hope). When you think about it more, especially in context, you might be able to see Luke hinting at something much deeper. Luke heard Grogu’s cry for help from the Seeing Stone where it’s very possible Grogu was talking about his desire to protect his father by strengthening his abilities. Luke knows all too well what happens when you abandon training in an attempt to protect those you love—as for him, it didn’t go well. Yoda tried to warn him but he didn’t listen. Now that he’s learned his lesson, Luke can offer this wisdom to a Grogu who wants to keep his father safe. He knows that training first will then allow Grogu to protect himself and his father to his heart’s content, just as Luke was better able to protect his friends in Episode VI after he finished his training.

8. “Okay, I’m gonna protect you.” (Chapter 14: The Tragedy)

The scene in which this line is delivered is what truly establishes this episode as a tragedy. Mando’s tried three times to break through Grogu’s Force-field—not because he wasn’t thinking, but because he was so desperate—and now he has to come to terms with the fact that he’ll only hurt himself more if he keeps trying it again and again. Mando’s voice is pretty shaky if you listen to it closely enough in these lines, reluctant to leave his child atop the mountain alone but eager to protect him somehow. We know Mando doesn’t like to feel helpless, but we can sense he feels that way in this moment. He doesn’t even know if Grogu can hear him, yet he keeps speaking to him with such fierce protectiveness and reassurance. This is a promise he doesn’t fall through with, even if Grogu does fall into the Imperials’ hands for a time.

9. “Give it to me.” (Chapter 15: The Believer)

This is the moment where we all really knew what was about to go down. What I love about this quote is that Mando says it with no remorse. He says it firmly, insisting upon doing whatever it takes to get those coordinates and get to Grogu. He’s already made up his mind. Despite the fact he gave his word earlier about not showing his face, Mando’s going to do what he has to for his son. The firm way this line is delivered proves that, especially when he shifts from taking a backseat to Mayfeld to taking charge again as he pulls the data stick right from Mayfeld’s grip. I just really love Mando’s determination in this scene, despite the circumstances.

10. “I’ll see you again. I promise.” (Chapter 16: The Rescue)

Do I particularly think this line is underrated? No, not the direct meaning of it. But when you watch Star Wars Rebels and think more about the genius of Dave Filoni, there’s a whole new layer of meaning attached to these words. For those who may not have watched the show yet (you definitely should!), Kanan and Hera are two people who care very much for each other (wink wink) who once had to exchange a goodbye very similar to Mando and Grogu. Kanan was about to go on a very dangerous mission without Hera, unsure of what would happen to him, when he delivered these words: “We’ll see each other again. I promise.” This is almost exactly what Mando says to Grogu in the face of their temporary separation. The good news is Kanan and Hera did get to see each other again—but Kanan was changed forever. Will this happen with Mando or Grogu? It’s possible. But it’s just another one of those moments that makes me yell “FILONI!” in Darth Maul style.

#idk i just love the mandalorian and star wars #the mandalorian #the mandalorian season two #star wars #meta

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

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prompt: after their father died, the Nie bros were raised by Wen Ruohan, and are forced to survive in the backstabbing tangle of Nightless City politics.

Congratulations! You have also won the “I didn’t mean to write this much” fic prompt lottery, to the tune (again) of about 30k. I hope you enjoy!

Note: any fic warnings will be only on Ao3

Fire and Light (ao3) - part 1

“It’ll be all right,” Nie Mingjue murmured to Nie Huaisang, who was curled in his arms, shaking and terrified. The carriage rumbled and lurched around them, traveling down the long path to the Nightless City, where they would now be staying. “It’ll be all right. We’ll manage, somehow.”

He didn’t believe a word he said, of course. How could everything be all right?

Their father was dead. Murdered – it was rather unquestionable at this point. Wen Ruohan had broken his saber from a distance, driving him mad, and Nie Mingjue had known it was Wen Ruohan, but no one had believed him. No one had wanted to help, to intervene, to take action. Even at home, they’d just started resigning themselves to having to take care of Lao Nie as he died by inches when the murderer himself had shown up at the Unclean Realm to ‘help’ them in their moment of need.

Even half-mad, their father had tried to fight back.

Wen Ruohan had put him down like a rabid dog, wringing his neck and tossing him aside.

He’d then announced that Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang, now orphans, would be brought back to the Nightless City and taken into the Wen sect to be his wards, to be appropriately reeducated and brought up well. Brought up properly.

And as for the rest of the Nie sect –

At least they survived, Nie Mingjue reminded himself. Even if they have to work for the Wen sect, even if the sun banner flies in the Unclean Realm…at least they’re not dead.

At least Huaisang is with me.

He didn’t know what to expect when they arrived. He didn’t think it would be anything good.

Their rooms in the Nightless City were large, but cold.

They were wards of the great Sect Leader Wen, they were told when they arrived. That meant that they would be treated with respect, as if they were truly young masters of the Wen sect. They would get the best tutors, the best clothing, the best food and drink…they would be masters of the world, if only they bowed their heads and were obedient.

(If they were not obedient, they would be punished. The exact nature of that punishment remained – unspecified.)

“Are they going to hurt us?” Nie Huaisang whispered late at night, curled up in Nie Mingjue’s bed. He’d been hiding in his own, shaking and terrified, until Nie Mingjue had crept out to check on him, daring the unspecified punishment if it meant confirming his brother was all right. Obviously Nie Mingjue couldn’t leave him like that, so he’d brought him back. “Are they going to do to us what they did to a-Die?”

“No,” Nie Mingjue said, with moderate confidence. “They’re not. They’ve put in too much effort, made this all too public, to kill us now. Though I’m not ruling out the possibility that they might freeze us to death by accident. How is it so cold here? It’s south of Qinghe! The climate should be more temperate, not less! And have they never heard of tapestries?”

“Da-ge…”

“Don’t think I don’t feel those ice-blocks you call feet at my waist!”

Nie Huaisang giggled, as Nie Mingjue had intended. “You’re being silly, da-ge.”

Nie Mingjue pretended to huff angrily, tossing his head like a bull, and it made Nie Huaisang giggle again, the way it always had. “Fine, fine,” he grumbled. “I’ll keep you warm, I guess. It’s my duty as your da-ge, isn’t it?”

“What’s my duty?” Nie Huaisang wanted to know.

“To be my spoiled brat of a didi, of course,” Nie Mingjue said, the way he always did, but this time Nie Huaisang shook his head in denial.

“Now that we’re here,” he clarified, looking at Nie Mingjue with wide, trusting eyes. “What do you need me to do?”

Nie Mingjue knew, as Nie Huaisang did not, why their lives had been spared: it all lay in that word, reeducated. They would be indoctrinated into Wen sect beliefs, Wen sect customs, and by the time they were sent back to rule Qinghe as Wen Ruohan’s puppets, they would be more Wen than Nie. Even for him, it would be difficult to resist; for someone as young as Nie Huaisang, with his childish memories already slipping through his fingers like sand, it would be virtually impossible.

Asking him to resist would serve no purpose but to torment him when he inevitably failed.

“Be happy, didi,” he finally said, and pressed his lips to Nie Huaisang’s forehead. “Be happy as you can, as you always have. Don’t let them take away your smile.”

The next day, they were introduced to Wen Xu and Wen Chao, the actual young masters of Qishan, sons of Wen Ruohan. Wen Xu was a handful of years older than Nie Mingjue, eighteen to his nearly-fifteen, while Wen Chao was less than two years older than Nie Huaisang. Neither of them seemed happy to see them, scowls fixed firmly on their faces, sneers of disdain twisting their lips.

“Do you train the saber?” Wen Xu asked Nie Mingjue, who raised an eyebrow of ‘what do you think I train’ in return. “A boorish weapon, but then I suppose your ancestors were butchers.”

“I look forward to taking classes with you,” Nie Mingjue said, thinking to himself that one didn’t have to be especially clever to know the history the Nie sect proudly proclaimed at every turn. “They’re clearly very enriching.”

Wen Xu blinked at him and then turned his face away, his lips pressed together – whether in annoyance or, possibly, a sense of humor very deeply buried, it was difficult to tell.

“Father has expectations of you,” he finally said instead of responding to Nie Mingjue’s jibe, and there was no humor in his face now. “You’ll meet them, of course.”

Unspoken was that they couldn’t afford not to. Either of them.

Nie Mingjue lowered his head. His entire sect – all his cousins, aunts, uncles, whether surnamed Nie or not – were back in Qinghe, closely watched by Wen sect commanders. There was a sword to their throat, and therefore also to his.

He, too, could not afford to disappoint Wen Ruohan.

Wen Xu’s shoulders relaxed a little when he saw Nie Mingjue’s submission – he had clearly been charged with their care, and had just as clearly worried about his ability to fulfill his mission should they choose to rebel – and he nodded, more to himself than to them. “There’s classrooms, and training grounds,” he said. “I’ll show you where they are, as well as the dining room – there are set times for meals, and attendance is mandatory – and of course the necessaries. You don’t need more than that, at least to start.”

“Are there rules we should keep in mind?” Nie Mingjue asked, thinking about his brief visit to Gusu.

“Many,” Wen Xu said. His expression was stormy. “Some of them are even spoken aloud.”

“Da-ge! Da-ge!” Nie Huaisang ran up to him, lip quivering and eyes glistening wet with tears. It was a very sad, even heart-rending sight; it used to send Nie Mingjue into a frenzy to see him like that. But by now he’d learned better and he didn’t even blink, even though Wen Xu faltered, his sword twisting off in the middle of their spar as if he expected Nie Mingjue to lose focus at a key moment and injure himself. He wouldn’t, of course, and he instead used the moment to tap Wen Xu’s sword pointedly with Baxia, claiming the point. “Da-ge, I fell down again!”

“Excuse me,” Nie Mingjue said to Wen Xu, and turned to kneel before Nie Huaisang. “Did you, now?”

“Uh-huh!”

“And did you hurt yourself?”

“I did!” Nie Huaisang stuck his hand out. There was, maybe, a bruise on his wrist. If one squinted. It was probably just mud, actually. “It hurts awful, da-ge. Kiss it better?”

“That doesn’t really work,” Wen Chao scoffed, only a few steps behind Nie Huaisang.

“Shut up, it does,” Nie Huaisang shot back, temporarily forgetting that he was supposed to be pitiful, and turned back to Nie Mingjue. “Well, da-ge?”

Nie Mingjue nodded solemnly. “It’s my job,” he agreed, gathering Nie Huaisang up into his arms and pressing his lips to the ‘wound’, using the motion to infuse a little bit of spiritual energy as well. Not enough to actually make a difference, and certainly not enough to justify Nie Huaisang promptly declaring himself all better, but he liked to do it anyway – a little connection between them.

Wen Chao looked at them both in suspicion, his brow wrinkling. “That doesn’t really work,” he said again, but his voice was weaker this time, more questioning.

“It does too work,” Nie Huaisang announced. “Maybe if you’re really nice, I’ll let da-ge fix you up too next time you fall down.”

“I’m not going to fall down! I’m not a baby like you!”

“Everyone falls down sometimes. There’s nothing shameful about it,” Nie Mingjue said, and pointed to a bruise on his own face. “I myself fell down just a little while ago. Your brother helped. Several times.”

Wen Chao gaped at him, even as Nie Huaisang giggled.

“And Huaisang? You’re already very good at being a big baby and we all know it. You can stop practicing your skills at any time.”

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes at him, still laughing.

Nie Mingjue ruffled his hair and sent them both away, Nie Huaisang in the lead and Wen Chao following after, the latter shooting strange looks back at Nie Mingjue over his shoulder.

“You’re too soft on him,” Wen Xu said from behind him, even as Nie Mingjue rose to his feet. “He won’t thank you for it, later.”

Nie Mingjue shrugged. “Later is later,” he said philosophically. “Now is now. Can you show me that move you did earlier, kicking out my feet? It was very well done.”

Wen Xu stared at him. “The one – where I knocked you to the ground?”

“That’s the one. Do it again, just slower; it’ll be hard for me to pick it up, otherwise.”

“You’re just asking – no, never mind. Don’t you care that I beat you with it?”

“…no?” Nie Mingjue hazarded. Was this some sort of weird Qishan Wen hang-up? “How am I supposed to learn if I don’t lose?”

“In training, like everyone else.”

“That’d only teach me how to win when everything goes right,” Nie Mingjue pointed out. “I want to learn how to win even when I’m losing. Here, you show me that and I’ll show you the trick I did this morning, with the disarming.”

Wen Xu tensed up. “I don’t need your tricks.”

I don’t need your pity, he meant, and Nie Mingjue didn’t understand him at all. Wen Xu was at home, his little brother safe, his sect secure – why would Nie Mingjue pity him?

“Consider it a favor to me, then,” Nie Mingjue said, thinking back to how his uncle used to handle the especially prickly tempers in their sect, which was never short on them. “My grasp on the move isn’t that good – teaching it to someone else is the best way for me to improve my own understanding.”

Wen Xu hesitated for a while, thinking it over as if he thought there was some sort trap in the offer – what trap it might be, Nie Mingjue wasn’t sure – but then he nodded.

“All right then,” he said arrogantly. “I won’t even count it as a favor. Consider it a gift, since you’re so new here.”

They were there for about a month by the time they met some other people their age.

It was enough time to start to get used to the monotony of it all. They woke up in the morning and were free until breakfast – Nie Mingjue often got in some extra saber training, Nie Huaisang usually slept in – at which point they would meet in the cold, miserable dining hall with enough space to fit two dozen people but which only ever had the four of them, being served by voiceless servants.

They would remain there for enough time to burn a stick of incense at minimum, half a shichen at the maximum, and then they would proceed to their classes. There would be alternating classes and training, all based on some mystifying schedule that seemed to change every day but which clearly had some sort of order based on the boredom with which the Wen heirs regarded it, but always lunch and dinner in the same cold dining room, all alone, same as ever.

It was therefore a surprise when they came down for breakfast and found two other children there: a pale-faced girl about Wen Chao’s age or a little older and a skinny, shy-looking boy closer to Nie Huaisang’s. They were wearing Wen colors, but that didn’t mean anything – so were the rest of them. Neither Nie Mingjue nor Nie Huaisang had been allowed to bring any of their Nie robes to the Nightless City other than the ones they’d been wearing, and those had been splattered with blood. Nie Mingjue had carefully preserved them and still intended on finding a time to go try to see if he could salvage them in the wash, just as soon as he figured out where the laundry was.

His own new robes, in garish Wen colors that made him feel sick every time he looked down, itched and pulled on his body when he moved – they were badly sized. It seemed the seamstresses of the Nightless City hadn’t been expecting someone of his size and shape, although the array of robes he’d found in the closet made him realize, with gut-churning nausea, that he had been expected, that Wen Ruohan had prepared in advance to receive his new wards long before he had committed the act of murder to obtain them.

He hadn’t complained about the discomfort of the badly sized clothing – he hadn’t dared – but Wen Xu had been irritable about it for days now. Based on his rants, it seemed like he suspected that someone had made the robes ill-fitting on purpose to restrict Nie Mingjue’s full range of motion, a scheme designed to make Nie Mingjue humiliate Wen Xu in front of his father when the right size clothing finally did come in.

Nie Mingjue didn’t understand the calculations Wen Xu made, the paranoia involved – who would do something like that? why? what would even be the point? – and he didn’t especially want to, either.

He looked at the other two children. The girl stared down at her food, not making eye contact, but the boy stole glances at him – perhaps he and Nie Huaisang were as much as of a surprise to them as they were to him.

“Good morning,” he said to them. “My brother and I are surnamed Nie. What about you?”

Wen Xu snorted loudly, rolling his eyes. “They’re Wen,” he said scathingly. “Our cousins, from one of collateral branches of the family; the ones in the mountains. Father has taken the two of them on as his wards on account of their unfortunate circumstances and promising talent.”

“Unfortunate circumstances?” Nie Huaisang wondered aloud, and Nie Mingjue sighed to himself at the sheer rudeness of the direct question. “What’s so unfortunate?”

“Our p-parents are dead,” the boy told him quietly, stuttering a little.

“Oh,” Nie Huaisang said. “Ours too.”

There was a moment of silence, the entire room disbelieving, and then Nie Mingjue started laughing.

The sound of his laughter verged on the hysterical, hurting his throat, but he couldn’t seem to stop. Not because it was funny, of course, it wasn’t funny, would never be funny, it was still raw and burning and painful. It probably would be for the rest of his undoubtedly short life. But news travelled fast in the cultivation world, and while he couldn’t say for sure, Nie Mingjue suspected he’d be hard pressed to find someone who hadn’t heard about Wen Ruohan murdering the old Nie sect leader and taking his children by now.

Judging by the horrified expressions on the Wen cousins’ faces, they definitely had, and the sheer awkwardness that paralyzed the entire room just made the entire thing pathetically – well, laughable.

“Da-ge!” Nie Huaisang hissed, cheeks turning red, but he was smiling a little, too, mostly out of the infectiousness of Nie Mingjue’s laughter. “Don’t embarrass me!”

Nie Mingjue leaned over and ruffled his hair. “Extra etiquette lessons for a week.”

“No!”

“Someone has to teach you to think before you speak,” Nie Mingjue said, still chuckling involuntarily with the aftereffects of his bout of inappropriate humor. “Not every thought that passes through your brain has to reach your tongue, you know. Consider holding some back. Cultivate an aura of mystery.”

Nie Huaisang grumbled and went back to picking at his food.

“Aren’t you going to punish him?” the girl asked suddenly. She was staring straight at Nie Mingjue. “You didn’t embarrass him. He embarrassed you.”

“I’m his older brother,” Nie Mingjue said with a shrug. “If he’s not embarrassed by me and I’m not mortified by him, something’s clearly wrong –”

“Da-ge!” Nie Huaisang wailed.

Nie Mingjue put some extra meat into his bowl to apologize for teasing, and Nie Huaisang subsided, making faces at him as he did.

“You’re weird,” Wen Chao announced.

Nie Mingjue didn’t think so, but all the Wens averted their eyes away from him as if they were silently agreeing, so maybe he was.

It turned out that the girl’s name was Wen Qing and the boy, her brother, was called Wen Ning.

“Don’t any of you have courtesy names?” Nie Mingjue asked, a little desperately, and it turned out that the Wen sect had the strange tradition of referring to people by their given names until they were properly acknowledged. Acknowledged as what wasn’t specified, but they all seemed to have a sense of definitiveness about it, as if expecting it to happen at some distant date.

Qinghe had the exact opposite tradition – given names were for immediate family only, sometimes a secret kept just to the parents, and everyone else went straight to using the courtesy name almost immediately after the first month ceremony.

“But you haven’t done anything by then,” Wen Ning said, worrying his lip with his teeth. Nie Huaisang had been devastated to discover that despite being small and thin as a stick, Wen Ning was exactly three weeks older than him – he’d been looking forward to calling someone didi for once, and now he was off sulking about finding himself the youngest yet again. Nie Mingjue was sure he’d get over it quickly. “Nothing impressive, nothing worthy of acclaim…what can a baby possibly do to deserve getting a name so early?”

“They were born, they are alive,” Nie Mingjue said. “What more do they need to do? Isn’t that worthy of recognition all on its own?”

He got strange looks again.

It turned out that Wen Qing was the talented one of the pair – she was training to be a doctor, and all her teachers spoke very highly of her.

“That’s wonderful,” Nie Mingjue said, and meant it. “Medical skills are a rare pearl that ought to be treasured; with the world always in need, there can never be too many doctors. I look forward to being treated by you in the future.”

Wen Qing blinked owlishly at him. It appeared that she was unaccustomed to praise.

“If you ever need someone to practice on, let me know,” he tried – he knew pretty words were far from his forte, and actions were better anyway – but that didn’t seem to help.

“I’m not good at anything,” Wen Ning volunteered, wringing his hands. “Jiejie refused to leave me at home by myself, but I’m not - good. At things.”

“Everyone is good at something,” Nie Mingjue assured him, the words coming much easier this time – he knew this particular routine well, given Nie Huaisang’s routinely poor physical performance in a sect that placed such a premium on it. “Some have strengths that are lauded by society, others merely ones that give color to it, but both are valuable and worthy of praise. You will find your talent, given time.”

Wen Ning appeared rather dazed by the concept. “But – what if I look for my talent and it turns out I really am no good at anything?”

“Then you’ll be good at being cared for,” Nie Mingjue said firmly. “Someone has to keep us older siblings in business with something to do.”

“Oh,” Wen Ning said, hugging himself until his face turned red, and then he ran away.

Nie Mingjue watched him go, feeling a little helpless. He hadn’t meant at all to be cruel, or condescending, or whatever it was that had so affected Wen Ning. Why was it, he wondered, that whenever he addressed those surnamed Wen, everything he did seemed to end up having the wrong reaction?

#mdzs #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #wen xu #wen chao #wen qing #wen ning #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #this is the one that had a one-sentence summary #it was supposed to be short!#chuplayswithfire #fire and light

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opposite-idol · 1 year

Text

Sharingan

Mess up, break up I love you My best friend, or my mentor My mentor, or my boss I don’t know I just know I love you a lot But “a lot” doesn’t mean anything If I still don’t know how to say “I’m sorry,” Sorry, I’m still learning

Long way to go, long way to go Find out, only just now You’ve always been so curious to know Have I ever been jealous Have I ever been jealous, no I’m not jealous of you at all You were already at the finish line the day we met I was just too too too brave

But now, I’m living my best life Or so the kids say these days And I’m so so so curious to know Are you jealous now We were at the starting line the day we met But now do you view me as a threat Or are we still friends Do our matching tattoos mean anything yet Damn, we made too many promises Tell me, were they empty Or do you still want me

I still love you, inspiration personified Don’t we have the same motives Same vision Same future telling capabilities Made promises to keep going, never be disqualified Tell me, baby, are you satisfied Are you satisfied with me

Oh I’m sorry Is that too promiscuous of me Aren’t you such a grown baby I dance backwards, just to hold your gaze But I can’t dance, so I trip over my feet I can’t even walk No, I’m not drunk

So take me as I am Are you my boss, or my mentor My mentor, or my friend Talk more slowly, write more simply No more metaphors, I can’t comprehend I roll my eyes into oblivion Get lost there, watching porn of girls shaking on Sybians What’s a lie, and what’s the truth Well, I’ve got nothing to share with you I’m fine satisfying myself You ask what I want I just roll my eyes Roll my eyes into oblivion The place I’ve been since I was seven The start of this goddamn addiction On even days I work hard to get over it And on odd ones I fall back in Please tell me you’re my friend

Please tell me I’m living my best life Or at least let me know who I am in your eyes These days I’m so rebellious You also want to be a rebel So I’m curious to know Are you jealous That I get called the devil I was already a devil the day we met Though I didn’t know it And you were always a rebel, even at the outset But now do your addicts view me as a threat Or can we still be friends Don’t wanna be viewed as your corruption When you were already corrupted It’s just, everything you are was so constructed That it’s a shocker when you’re abducted By your own kind Damn, fam, get in line He may be mine, but I promise I’ll share in time

Tell me, are you jealous This time All I can see is an endless sea of zealots And it’s them who make me so rebellious Finally Tell me, is it a crime To want to fall in love sometimes Tell me why I’m always on the phone with the damn FBI I promise I’m never high, I just always have watery eyes From all these analogies Oops, I mean allergies I can anticipate all the bullets Use my Sharingan to make sure I get through it But I’ll still be allergic to all this bullshit

#lvh

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uwua3 · 3 years

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if it's ok 😳👉👈 i really love your writing and i've had this idea in my head for awhile but i can't get myself to write it on my own 🤔 i wanted to see how your spin would be on it- so can i request a prompt where reader gets jealous of tenma's co-actress in a romance and tries to mimic what she does to him in a show they're in?? ty!!! 💕💕💕 i look forward to your interpretation

thank you so much for requesting~ ♡ i love you sososo much; i hope this lives up to everything you’ve dreamed of! ♡ ～('▽^人) i LOVE YOU!!! <333

summary: when tenma lands a role in your favorite drama, he had one goal: to become your favorite actor

warnings: envy/jealousy, food mentions, rivalry (all covered briefly!)

author’s note: after learning everything there is to know about the k-drama, true beauty, on tik tok, i’ve decided to write this! for context, the only thing i recommend watching before reading this is watching the “roar” scene!

this is also the first time i’ve introduced made-up characters with names! please enjoy jun, the first character who isn’t canon to the a3!verse :D

word count: 3,768

music: like a movie – b1a4

pretty u!

🌻☀️ sumeragi tenma

what the heck was love, and why did he have to be in it?

sumeragi tenma, future “world’s best actor”, was suddenly... seeing why he hadn’t won that award yet. with a script in his hand and confusion in another, tenma read the title of the next drama he landed the role for

“PRETTY U...” it was japan’s next major love story, advertised on every social media platform possible with the all-star cast in the spotlight already. although it had already been out for a season, tenma was entering as the up-and-coming newest character of the series

tenma was boyish, young, and much too confident for his age—perfect for the role of a second-lead bad boy who was going to steal the heart and test the protagonist’s commitment

except... he didn’t actually want to take up a new project so soon. he only did because—

“what?! you’re going to be chan on PRETTY U?!” he proudly nodded and watched as you began ranting about how much you loved this show. there was only one reason he came to the audition: tenma wanted to star in your favorite television series

you always went on and on about how great everything about PRETTY U was. after hearing so much and pretending not to listen (even if he could practically explain the entire plotline now without watching it), tenma let himself become a fan, too

after all, how could he not be a fan when you loved PRETTY U so much?

tenma didn’t respond to his manager’s pleas until one day, you revealed another reason why PRETTY U was your favorite production: the main lead

“he’s so handsome~ i love him so much!” “do you know him? could you get me his number?” “look at him... he’s the most perfect actor in the business right now—ah, sorry ten!”

tenma scoffed every time, claiming he could most certainly do better than that hotshot. although the boys typically didn’t do the same type of television, he had become tenma’s #1 rival without even knowing it

besides... what did that guy have that tenma didn’t? he was just nice! sure, he held open the door for the lead, bent down to tie her shoes, bended over backwards just to be the perfect boy-next-door. yeah... even he couldn’t pretend anymore

tenma pouted at the thought, skimming over his next pilot episode for rehearsal tomorrow. he was too good to be real, after all, he was meant to end up with the lead girl anyways (spoiler alert!)

but, it didn’t matter how perfect that actor was! because tenma had gotten the role of “chan”, the leather-jacket wearing mystery with an actual heart of gold, and he was going to make the entire audience swoon

(though, tenma just wanted to make your heart skip a beat when he ended up on the big screen)

tenma would never admit how fast he checked his phone when he felt it buzz in his pocket. sure, it was unprofessional during rehearsal but he knew it was you. however, his smile dropped the moment he read what you sent

you: remember to tell him how much i love him!

tenma: hah... no good luck for your new bad boy?

you: you know i’ll always root for you, ten!

tenma: but, i’m better than that actor, right?

tenma watched his message get delivered and was about to keep bothering you until someone called his name like they were friends. speak of the devil...

that actor’s straight, white toothy smile made tenma stand a little straighter (damn it, tenma was shorter), eyes wide as the actor gracefully introduced himself as his co-star for the next month or so (how did his voice sound even better in person?!)

“good morning, tenma! my name is jun, i’m so honored to meet a fellow actor on set! let’s work together well!” were they... really the same age? tenma barely registered the fact he was suddenly shaking jun’s (right, that’s his name) hand. why did he have such a manly grip?

tenma quickly (to his dismay) found out that him & jun had entered the industry around the same time but often had different projects, so they were never featured in the same production before. apparently, that was creating quite a buzz in the media that two childhood stars were competing against one another

a competition that tenma couldn’t lose. he was going to be your favorite actor, not his rival!

jun, like the perfect gentleman everyone described him to be, showed tenma around the PRETTY U set. jun had nothing but good things to say about the crew and vise versa. that only reinforced how tenma was oddly much more quiet than he usually was. luckily, one of the talents of being an actor was improvising, so jun was doing just fine

when they had reached the dressing rooms, jun shot a bright smile at tenma and gestured to the rather large room

“we’ll be sharing a dressing room together, tenma! we’ll be spending a lot of time together!”

tenma suddenly regretted his decision to become chan of PRETTY U. you couldn’t have had a different favorite show?! anything but... this

there were now three main characters for PRETTY U: hoshi, yuri, and chan, creating a love triangle for millions of viewers to watch every week

nakamura jun, leading role, played “hoshi”, the boy-next-door. this is the popular boy at school with the best grades and an even greater reputation amongst everyone. next, uedo ren, one of japan’s rising female actresses of this generation. she is adored as “yuri”, the perfect girl. she is the typical nerd who suddenly transformed into the prettiest girl at school from learning make-up

last (but definitely not least!) is sumeragi tenma, playing “chan”, the bad boy. it was nothing like tenma’s done before, since the character was much less expressive than he was used to. chan is a traditional rebel who is revealed to have a soft side for yuri. but, chan (ironically enough) has a secret history with hoshi, causing tension in this already confusing love triangle

(embarrassingly enough, jun had to explain to tenma the complications and ties between each character. tenma, unfortunately, found it to be extremely helpful)

even with this newfound knowledge of the characters in season 2, tenma couldn’t help but absolutely ruin the first day of rehearsals. even with a decade or so of acting as his experience, one thing kept him from being chan: his lack of chemistry with “yuri”

“cut!” the director called out again for the nth time, sighing as their eyes landed on tenma, who was not enjoying being the center of attention this time, surprisingly

“take 5, kid. once you come back, i expect you to actually go through this scene without messing up your lines.” tenma nodded and exited quickly, feeling flustered from the looks of sympathy directed his way. usually, it was one-and-done. it didn’t take a hundred tries just to do another romantic and cliché scene

tenma exhaled loudly once he felt the fresh air upon his face. without the fear of cameras in his face anymore, tenma ran his hand through his hair with a frustrated kick at the concrete. come on! he was renown child actor sumeragi tenma, why was he so in his head now?

tenma was about to yell into the sky before he heard someone close the door, standing beside him with their usual silence. tenma didn’t even have to look to know it was jun (probably with the most pitiful look ever)

“tenma? are you okay?” jun waited as tenma tried to not say anything he’d regret, shifting his weight on his foot back and forth before relenting, shrugging as if it couldn’t be helped

“i don’t know... i just, i can’t see yuri that way. how am i supposed to flirt with someone i don’t even like?”

jun pondered the thought for a moment, before tilting his head, a boyish smile overtaking his features. tenma unwillingly relaxed; jun finally looked his age

“who do you like then?”

tenma froze, a blush even foundation couldn’t hide blossoming on his cheeks. jun let out a teasing “oooh!” as he nudged tenma with his shoulder, who pushed back with an eye-roll

“i-it’s not like that! don’t be so—ugh!” tenma cut himself off, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding jun’s knowing eyes. damn it, they barely knew each other. why was he getting so comfortable with his enemy?!

“well, whoever you thought of, imagine yuri as them.”

“is that what you do?”

jun shrugged, not giving a clear answer for once. before tenma could ask for more information, their break was over

when tenma returned to the scene, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. when he opened them again, he watched as yuri transformed into the one person he’s been trying to impress this entire time: you

when “you” smiled, tenma couldn’t help but follow along. his first-take after break made the cut for the final product

“you must really like them, tenma~” — “stop!!!”

filiming afterwards became easy, especially when he imagined all his romantic words were directed towards you. he could feel the clamminess of his hands, the rapid beat of his heart, the intense blush across his face, all at the thought of you

(the only time he had to start over was when he accidentally said your name instead of yuri’s)

tenma was sure he’d become your favorite actor now! after all, you were his favorite person

“will you watch the first episode of PRETTY U’s season 2 with me?”

you had never said yes so fast in your entire life. when tenma learned there’d be a cast-viewing of episode 1 after finishing the season, he knew his +1 invite could only go to the biggest fan of the show

throughout filming, you were always the person who got him in trouble when the text tone wasn’t put on silent. you liked spamming tenma with a bunch of supportive and encouraging messages when you were available, meaning tenma always had something to look forward to after each scene

in return, tenma would send a selfie of him with his castmates or the set (or, what he was allowed to show under his contract). yet, despite your constant pleas, there was one co-star he’d never take a photograph with: jun

(“tenma! we’ve worked together for months~ shouldn’t i be called your friend now?” “no—” “huh?! don��t pretend you don’t like me!” “who said i was pretending?” “tenma!”)

at first, tenma was apprehensive about inviting you to an event where jun’s picture-perfect face would be on display everywhere. but, whenever he saw you, the weight of the tickets suddenly felt much heavier in his pocket. he couldn’t deprieve you of such an exclusive event just because of his jealousy (even if he was this close to doing so)

when tenma impulsively asked three days before, it felt worth it when you threw your arms around him (he hugged you back and pretended this meant something to you)

“i love you, ten!”

tenma felt like he was on set again, with yuri’s arms tightly holding onto his heart

“i love you, too.”

even after saying it so many times, tenma meant it even if he didn’t say it to your face every time

you looked like the star of the show

tenma fixed his tie as his blazer suddenly felt too tight. you appeared in your most formal attire, looking like a million bucks as you two sat across each other in the limo

“ten, look at all of this!” you pointed out every little thing of preparing for a professional event. the little glasses of champagne neither of you two could drink sat to the side as the leather seats molded to fit your posture. as the night lights of tokyo blurred by, tenma couldn’t help but think you sparkled more than this diamond of a city

“i can’t wait to go see the first episode! thank you for inviting me.” you bowed your head, as if suddenly overcome with gratefulness. tenma lightly kicked your shoe with his, fondly rolling his eyes as he tried not to smile (mission failed)

“don’t worry about it, who else would i bring? you’re my favorite pe—friend. friend, yeah...” tenma trailed off, suddenly finding something very interesting outside of the window. you only nodded, seemingly more interested in the fact there was enough room to walk around

when tenma caught sight of the infamous red carpet laid out in front of the theatre, he cleared his throat and put on his best face for the cameras. after stepping out of the car with his bodyguards nearby, tenma turned and gave you a genuine smile. not his typical arrogant smirk the news source ate up, but a type of smile only reserved for you

when he held out his hand, the flashing lights behind him seemed like a real celebrity, something you had never considered him to be before. it was like seeing tenma in a new light (both literally and figuratively)

“shall we?” you took his hand and wondered if you could ever have your own j-drama. perhaps, tenma could even be the main lead...

before you could step off to the side, tenma already had his arm wrapped around your waist with his unchanging expression (however, underneath it all, he was internally freaking out. what was he going to do now?!)

“you’re my date, right? walk the red carpet with me.” tenma winked (you swore it sparkled) as he gestured towards the carpet ahead. suddenly, the line seemed much longer

“t-ten... you’ve never brought a date before...” you mumbled, acutely aware of how soon it was to walk down together. tenma’s arm stiffened, but nothing else exposed the revelation as he looked down at you

“you’re my first, then.” and my last, tenma thought to himself. before you could change your mind, it was showtime. tenma put on his movie star face and introduced you to familiar interviewers, smiling away as if you two weren’t panicking on the inside

while you were focusing on the fact you were going to be going viral as tenma’s first “date” to the event, tenma was trying not to blush from how close you were. you felt... right besides him

tenma was a natural in front of an audience waiting for him to make a mistake. he flawlessly answered every question with swaggering confidence, his stride easy and poses photogenic

you did your best to follow his lead but it all ended when tenma took you into the theatre, staring down at you with a bright smile

“we did it! see, told you we’d be just fine.” tenma let out an exhale of relief, glowing with joy from the adrenaline of everything that came with being a superstar. as you looked up into his excited eyes, you saw him lean down before—

“your arm is still around me.”

silence, then a hurried separation as tenma put too many feet between you two. it was suddenly as if you two were strangers. you regretted the words the moment they left your mouth; you didn’t mind at all... why did you say something?!

“um... so, food?” tenma spoke up after an eternity of making excuses. you two quickly moved to the line of movie snacks, using candy and popcorn to substitue the suddenly awkward silence

when tenma ordered all your favorites without even asking, he turned around with the selection only to close his eyes and internalize every single thing he was feeling because there he was, his worst enemy

jun entered from a side door, most likely finishing up helping the crew with set-up (and 30 minutes early as usual) before catching tenma’s iconic bright orange hair, a grin lighting up his face

“tenma! it’s me, jun!” he said, as if they weren’t the two main leads of japan’s most famous drama so far. immediately, your smile matched jun’s as you watched as your favorite actor of all time make his way towards you two

“jun... of course you’d be here.” tenma said through gritted teeth, forcing a pleasant smile even with an armful of junk

“ah, still keeping the bad boy attitude? we’re off set now, you can stop method acting now.” jun joked, bringing his attention to you with a dazzling smile that would absolutely make any fansite’s career

“oh? who is this, a friend of yours?” tenma tried not to sigh so loud when you couldn’t help yourself and burst into a long rant about how amazing jun was. tenma waited until you reached your midpoint and stopped you with a quick nudge, trying not to scream (could jun stop being so... perfect? could you stop being so cute?!)

when tenma introduced you, he stood a little closer as he tried to maintain his jealousy. “they’re my date, by the way.” no one had asked, but tenma was clearly telling anyone who was around you two had gone together

jun’s eyes lit up in recognition as he let out a noise of surprise. “ah~ so this is who you—”

tenma didn’t regret losing his giant popcorn so fast to a co-star who could only be silenced with food. his wallet could afford another one, anyways. his pride on the other hand? could not let you know his acting secret already

“what was jun going to say?” you asked after you two departed for the viewing room. tenma nonchalantly pretended like everything was okay as he guided you to front row

“probably something about the fact you’re the one who always interrupts our scenes.”

“hey! my texts make your day, don’t lie!”

“go sit down and eat already, jeez.”

when it began, your eyes couldn’t leave the screen. it was better than you could have imagined. everything was perfect, it exceeded the standards of even the toughest fans out there. you loved every second of it... except...

tenma was too good at being chan. even with his bright hair, the dark clothes he wore made him appear intimidating, with his sharp eyes and even sharper smirk. chan’s appearance was tough, rough, and mean, everything tenma wasn’t

yet, you still couldn’t help but feel your heart sink when chan was clearly in love with yuri. yuri was one of your favorite characters by far, but she ended up bothering you for the entireity of the episode

especially every time she shared a scene (which were many times) with chan. chan was revealed to be a bad boy with a heart of gold, all with a special soft side for yuri

what was this feeling? were you... no, you couldn’t be! after all, you had never seen tenma that way before, right? yet, every time chan made an exception for yuri, you felt sick to your stomach

was it possible that tenma liked the actress who played yuri? you snuck a glance at tenma, only to see he was looking at you already (he’d never admit it, but he was watching your reactions to see if he made you proud. yet, every time you saw him, you subconsciously frowned)

were you not proud of him? did you not like his performance as chan?

before tenma could ask you, the scene changed into one of chan’s. he was standing outside in the school uniform, his head ducked as he swiped through yuri’s social media. before he could look up, yuri jumped in front of him with a teasing smile

“roar!” she called out, referring to their inside joke earlier in the episode. yuri cutely bounced back with another roar, holding her hands up like paws. chan watched, his typical rock-hard expression breaking to reveal his developing feelings for yuri

later on, chan stopped yuri in the hallway, other students watching as the school’s bad boy and goddess interact

“do that again.” chan demanded to which yuri innocently tilted her head, confused like a little puppy. “do what?” “that... that thing.” when chan roared, tenma sunk into his seat with an embarrassed defense and explanation ready. but, when he looked, you finally cracked a laugh at his little roar

your smile only fell when yuri roared again as a joke, but chan smiled for once. tenma wondered why... he thought you would be so happy to be here with him. maybe, he’d never be better than jun...

when the episode ended, it took a moment before you stood up and clapped. tenma followed along, but all he could think about was how he let you down. not only as chan, but as your boy, too

when you two left the room, you two hung back to watch as everyone congratulated one another on the success of the production. in the midst of the cheer and celebration, tenma felt small as he watched your blank expression

what did he do wrong? he put his best efforts into every scene; he might even say it was his best work yet. before he could apologize, you did the unthinkable: you roared

you jumped up into his face, holding your hands up like yuri did. when yuri did it, tenma didn’t feel a thing. but, when you did, tenma felt it. the butterflies fluttered in his stomach as he stared at you, frozen in place

“this is the part where you ask me to do it again.” you shyly trailed off, about to put your hands down before tenma weakly put his hands up, knowing he was about to regret his next move (if the embarrassment didn’t kill him, he didn’t know what would)

“roar!”

that was too loud, wasn’t it? the room suddenly went a lot more quiet as they turned their attention towards a teen actor roaring at his date

“yah! why didn’t you ask me the next line?”

“b-because... i know i like you even without you doing, that, again.”

you paused, taken back by his honesty. as tenma contemplated just falling onto the floor right then and there, you suddenly hardened your expression, standing up straighter with your arms crossed

“do that again.”

“do what?”

“that thing.”

when tenma roared again, much quieter this time, you nodded as you finally smiled genuinely for the first time ever since that episode started

“good, i know how chan feels now. i like you, too.”

“does that mean i’m your favorite actor now?”

(when jun released a video of tenma roaring online, he captioned it with “ROAR = ILY!!!” tenma realized maybe he wasn’t all that bad, but still)

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