#I’ve been drawing her in this outfit forever but I can’t think of a time where they could’ve changed since the black parade montage… | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

junghelioseok · 4 years

Text

clandestine. | 01

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 10.3k [1/6]

notes: this fic was originally going to be a oneshot, but i changed my mind and decided i didn’t want to kill tumblr with a totally unnecessary 50k jk fic so 🤷🏻‍♀️ here is part one of a fic that 100% only came about because @puellaigmotum coerced me into it like 2 years ago (lmao rip 💀) and also bc i have zero self-control and am hopelessly h*rny for jungkook these days and don’t look at me i don’t wanna talk about it okay??? 🙈

warnings: jk’s massive noona kink, some ~under the table~ action, too much detail about jk’s dumb veiny arms probably, but at least he doesn’t have tattoos bc i started writing this before he got them and i don’t need to torture myself anymore than i already do!!!

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

It’s always been easy to spot your brother in a crowd. Passengers flood off the train, jostling around you on their way to the station’s exit, but even in the swarm you can perfectly see Jimin’s golden head of hair bobbing its way toward you, a deep scowl etched across his face. “You’re late,” he says in lieu of a greeting, his honey brown eyes raking over your scuffed suitcase distastefully as he comes to a stop a few feet away.

“And you’re just as impatient as ever,” you retort, coming to a stop before him with your luggage in tow. “Think you can lord it over me since you can drive now?”

“Don’t forget that I’m your ride home,” Jimin scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I could just as easily leave you here to fend for yourself.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you tell him, raising a brow in silent challenge.

Jimin stares down at you unflinchingly, and you stare right back. The tension stretches between you, taut and heavy, until every passing second feels like a light year. Around you, the crowd slowly dissipates, but still you remain—two motionless statues locked in a wordless struggle. From somewhere overhead, a monotone voice announces the next train departure times.

Jimin’s mouth twitches. You blink, twice in quick succession.

And then your little brother breaks into a grin—one that’s so wide you fear his mouth may detach from his face entirely. An answering smile settles across your face as you watch him throw his head back, dissolving into laughter that you can’t help but echo.

“Damn it, Chim!” you say, instinctively grabbing onto his wrist when it looks like he might fall over. “Your poker face still sucks.”

“I’ve gotten better!” Jimin immediately defends. “I mean, you’ve got to admit that, right?”

“Nope.” You sigh and hold a hand over your head so you can measure your height against his ever-so-slightly taller frame. “Same old annoying kid I grew up with. Seriously, have you grown at all in the past year?”

“Whoa, too far, Noona.” Jimin takes ahold of both of your cheeks, pinching them affectionately. “You’re only a year older than me, you know. Besides, I’ve been taller than you for two years now!”

“I’m pretty sure hitting puberty at age seventeen isn’t something to be proud of,” you reply, pulling away from him with a mock grimace and giggling when he lets out an offended squeak. Playfully, you reach up to ruffle his hair, scrubbing your knuckles just a little too roughly against his skull.

“Noonaaa,” he complains, drawing out the last syllable until he runs out of air. “Jeez, you haven’t even been back for an hour yet and you’re already being mean to me. When do you go back to Seoul again?”

“Three weeks,” you reply, narrowing your eyes. “But I can and will make these three weeks hell for you. Don’t test me.”

Jimin snickers and drapes his arm over your shoulders. He picks up your suitcase with the other hand, and you thank him with another, gentler hair ruffle as the two of you start toward the exit of the train station. “College hasn’t changed you one bit.”

“And senior year hasn’t changed you,” you say, letting him guide you outside and breathing in the balmy summer evening air. Jimin’s brow furrows as he tries to remember where he’s parked, and you kindly take your suitcase back when he nods decisively and heads toward the left side of the lot. “You excited to graduate?”

He sighs, fumbling in his pocket for the keys as the two of you approach the car. “It’s going to suck. Your ceremony was boring as hell last year.”

“Wow, rude.”

Jimin looks up from where he’s unlocking the driver’s side door. “Am I wrong, though?”

You flash him a grin as he unlocks the remaining doors, heaving your suitcase into the backseat before sliding into the passenger seat beside him. “Nope. But afterward, you’ll be done with high school forever.”

“Thank god.” Your brother rakes a hand through his hair, mussing it further as he carefully starts the ignition and checks his mirrors with all the diligence of a new driver. Once satisfied, he pulls out of the parking space, meandering his way out of the lot and onto the main street.

The ride back to your childhood home is a short one, full of familiar storefronts and landmarks that dredge up all sorts of fond memories. You hadn’t expected your first year of university—away from your family and your hometown—to make you quite so emotional. But before you know it, Jimin is making the turn into your neighborhood, and you can’t stop the way your eyes begin to well up when you see your house in the distance.

As if reading your mind, Jimin glances at you as he pulls into the driveway. “Feel good to be home?”

You nod, blinking back tears. “Feels great.”

He grins. Pulling the key from the ignition, he climbs out of the car and grabs your suitcase, waving for you to head inside. Eagerly, you start toward the front door, but you barely make it halfway up the driveway when it bursts open, revealing your father standing there with open arms and an enormous grin. He’s just as tall as you remember, and looks exactly the same save a few more strands of silver lacing his hair. All of a sudden, you’re a little girl again, running up to give him a hug and giggling madly when he tries to scoop you up like he used to do so many years ago.

“Hi Dad,” you greet when he gives up and sets you back down on two feet. “Where’s Mom?”

“Cooking up a storm,” he replies, chortling. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he leads you into the kitchen where your mother is hunched over the stove with a spatula, delicious aromas wafting up from the array of pots and pans in front of her. “Honey, look who’s home!”

“Hi Mom,” you say, grinning when she whirls around, startled. The spatula, still dangling loosely from her hand, drips sauce onto the tiled floor, but she barely notices in her eagerness to give you a hug, throwing it down into one of the simmering pots and striding forward to wrap you up in a tight embrace.

“How was your trip?” she asks, pulling back and angling your face this way and that. “Did you sleep on the ride? Did Jimin drive safely?”

The last question draws a protesting whine from your brother, who has lugged your suitcase over the threshold and is now seated at the dining table, fiddling with a spoon. “My driving was fine, right Noona?” he says, his bottom lip jutting out into a pout.

“Yes, Chim,” you agree, laughing at the pleased expression that overtakes his face. Curiously, you walk over to the stove to inspect the food, your jaw dropping as you take in the assorted vegetables and meats. “Wow, Mom. Are you cooking for an army?”

“Jungkook is coming over for dinner,” she explains, following you over and plucking up the spatula again. “That boy has the biggest appetite I’ve ever seen—you remember, right?”

You laugh. “Of course I remember. He and Jimin were always stealing bites of my lunch at school.” Peering over at your brother, you fix him with a mock glare before walking over to the cutting board on the counter and sizing up the pile of onions and peppers sitting there. “It’ll be nice to see him again, though. How is he doing?”

To your surprise, a new voice answers your question—a voice that somehow manages to be simultaneously familiar and foreign. “Why don’t you ask me directly, Noona?” it says, and you whirl around, wide-eyed, to face the newcomer.

This can’t possibly be Jeon Jungkook, is your first thought upon seeing the young man standing in the kitchen doorway. The Jungkook you knew in high school was a scrawny kid—all gangly limbs and a nose that was too big for his face. The Jungkook you knew wore oversized white t-shirts that made him look even younger than he was, a look that was only enhanced by round wire-rimmed glasses that always gave him a look of permanent astonishment. The Jungkook you knew was nowhere near this tall, and definitely not this broad.

But this Jungkook—this Jungkook takes up nearly the entire doorframe with his bulk. Dark eyes stare at you from beneath equally dark hair, his gaze unhindered by his old glasses. A cobalt blue shirt stretches tight over his chest, and you swallow when you notice just how much the buttons are straining to contain the muscle underneath. Black jeans and simple black sneakers complete his outfit, and the entire look is so jarringly different from what you’re used to that you are left momentarily speechless, gaping like a fish out of water. Vaguely, you wonder when he got his ears pierced.

And then Jungkook—or at least, the young man claiming to be Jungkook—takes three steps forward, his entire face melting into a crinkly-eyed grin. You catch a glimpse of the adorably prominent front teeth that always made him look like a rabbit, and that’s all it takes to break the spell.

“Jungkookie!” you exclaim, darting forward to greet him. “It’s been so long!”

“Hi, Noona,” he replies, his grin widening at your approach. In an instant, he has you wrapped up in an embrace, easily lifting you off the floor in a display of strength that would’ve had a lesser woman swooning. His hands curl firmly around your waist, and you have no choice but to wrap yours around his nape, squeaking in protest when he spins you in a full circle.

“Kookie!” you gasp, wriggling helplessly in his grasp and huffing when he only cackles. “Put me down!”

Obediently, Jungkook lowers you back to the ground. His hands linger on your waist until he’s certain that both your feet are planted firmly, and it’s only then that he pulls back to get a good look at your face. “You know I’d never drop you, right?” he asks innocently.

“As if I can trust anything that comes out of your mouth,” you retort with a laugh. “I’ve seen you scam your way out of detention with those pretty doe eyes. Don’t try me, kid.”

Jungkook snorts. “Kid? I’m not that much younger than you. Plus I’m older than Jimin, y’know.”

“By a month!” your brother protests from the dining room, his blond head popping up from behind the vase of daisies serving as a centerpiece.

“Month and a half,” Jungkook stage-whispers to you, cupping a hand and bringing his mouth to your ear conspiratorially. His breath tickles your cheek, and you swat him away with a giggle that becomes a full-on laugh when Jimin lets out an offended cry and rises to his feet. Striding over, he pokes Jungkook squarely in the chest, his eyes narrowed.

“I invite you over to my house and this is the thanks I get?”

Your dad chooses that moment to interrupt from the living room. “Your house? When exactly did you start paying rent, Jimin?”

Jimin’s jaw drops. “Are you taking his side?” he asks in disbelief, glaring at Jungkook when he starts laughing. “I’m your son!”

“I’m your father,” your dad replies.

“And I’m your mother,” your mom pipes up, brandishing a spoon. “And I’m telling all of you to get your butts over to that dining table in the next ten seconds, or no dinner for any of you.”

Your dad, Jimin, and Jungkook immediately fall silent, cowed by her proclamation. Grinning, you join your mother at the counter, grabbing a handful of spoons and accepting the platter of kimchi she hands over. “Direct as always, Mom.”

She laughs and picks up a bowl of rice. “To deal with men like them? You have to be.”

Food in hand, you make your way into the dining room. The table is set, the steaming food arranged neatly in the center, and you watch as your mother takes her seat next to Jimin and leaves you to sit beside Jungkook on the opposite side. Your father beams from his spot at the head of the table, glancing at each of you in turn before turning and giving your shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

“Look at you kids, all sitting at the same table again.” He sighs, and you’re certain that he’s thinking back to the last time all of you were together—well over a year ago, at this point. “It’s a shame that your parents couldn’t join us, though, Jungkook.”

Jungkook nods. “Yeah, they told me to apologize on their behalf. They have tickets for the theatre tonight, and couldn’t get a refund on them.”

Your father laughs and waves the apology off. “I’m sure we’ll catch them next time,” he says. “Pretty hard to avoid each other when you live next door, isn’t it?”

“Definitely,” Jungkook agrees with a chuckle. Then he turns to you, the silver hoops in his ears glinting in the light from the overhead chandelier. “I’m sure they’ll drop by soon to see you, Noona. Mom wants to hear all about Seoul—I think she’s worried about sending me so far away by myself.”

“Junghyun stayed in Busan for university, didn’t he?” your mom asks.

Jungkook nods. “Yep, he still lives downtown and everything. He wanted to come over tonight, but his work wouldn’t let him take the time off.”

Your mom sighs. “That’s such a shame. Is he at least attending your graduation?”

“He’s driving in the day after tomorrow for the ceremony,” Jungkook confirms. Then he pauses, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. His gaze flickers down to the plate of sweet potatoes on the other side of the table, and before he can even open his mouth, your mother is already passing him the plate. He thanks her with an embarrassed chuckle but digs into the food nonetheless, and everyone else takes it as a sign to follow suit. You’re in the middle of scooping rice into your bowl when Jimin speaks up again.

“So what’s it like living in Seoul?” he asks, his cheeks bulging with pork belly. “You have roommates, right?”

“Suitemates,” you correct. “But yeah, I live with three other people. Namjoon, Hoseok, and Jennie are all great though, so it hasn’t been a problem.”

Jungkook pauses mid-chew to gape at you. “You live with guys?”

“My building’s co-ed,” you explain. “We all have separate bedrooms, but we share a common space and bathrooms.”

Your mother—on the lookout for any potential future grandchildren, as always—perks up. “Namjoon and Hoseok sound like nice boys. Are you friends?”

“Yes, Mom,” you sigh. “We’re friends. Just friends.” And then before she can ask about whether or not any other boys have caught your eye, you quickly turn back to your brother. “So, what’s your plan for next year? Are you and Jungkook living together?”

Jimin hums. “Yep, that’s the plan. Unless you want to live with us too, Noona.”

You laugh. “Why, so I can protect you from all the bullies like I did in elementary school?”

He flashes you a cheeky grin. “More like so I can protect you from all the weird college guys. Who’s this Hoseok guy anyway? Do I need to beat him up?”

“Please don’t beat up Hobi,” you entreaty, giggling when he pretends to crack his knuckles. “Or Joon!” you add quickly when he remains undeterred and makes to stand up from the table to defend your honor. Balling up your napkin, you throw it at him, and both of you burst into hysterics when your makeshift weapon bounces off his forehead and straight into his glass of water. The rest of dinner passes in a haze of similarly playful antics and happy chatter, and by the time the last bowl is scraped clean, it feels as if you’d never even left.

“I’ll do the dishes,” you volunteer, standing up and gathering up the empty platters. Jungkook and Jimin are quick to jump to your aid, collecting any utensils that you missed, and you offer them a grateful smile as they follow you into the kitchen.

“Let me do the washing, Noona.” Jungkook rolls up the sleeves of his cobalt blue shirt to expose a familiar silver watch glinting on his left wrist—a watch that his father handed down to him when he was sixteen, and that had been worn by his grandfather before him. You still remember the day he’d first worn it to school, proudly displaying it even though the band was too loose around his narrow wrist.

He’s grown into it now, you realize. The watch no longer flops around like it used to, and sits snugly in place instead. Your eyes trace the silver buckle on the inside of his wrist before trailing up to follow the network of thin, branching veins in his forearm, admiring the smooth flex of muscle as he grabs a sponge from the wire rack hanging above the sink and squirts some dish soap onto the surface.

“I’ll dry,” Jimin chirps, selecting a towel and brandishing it. “Noona, do you want to help me? We’ll finish faster that way.”

Nodding, you pull another towel out from the drawer and rejoin the two boys at the sink. Jungkook washes quickly and efficiently, and you determinedly avoid staring at the way water trickles along the patchwork veins on his hands as he gives you bowl after bowl to dry.

It doesn’t take long for all the dishes to be washed and dried. The three of you take the time to put them back into the proper cabinets before bidding your parents a good night, heading out onto the back porch. Falling back into old routines feels like second nature, so you plop down onto the steps without hesitation and grin when Jungkook takes a seat beside you.

“Wait, I almost forgot!” Jimin exclaims, bouncing up from where he was beginning to sit down next to Jungkook. “I bought some beer earlier and left it in the trunk. Be right back!”

You watch your brother run off, his floppy blond hair a stark contrast with the deep blue evening sky. In seconds, he’s disappeared around the corner of the house, leaving you and Jungkook alone on the porch steps.

“Chim really hasn’t changed one bit,” you remark with a laugh, turning toward your dark-haired companion.

Jungkook chuckles. “The kid loves his alcohol, that’s for sure.”

“Please.” You elbow him in the ribs. “I know you’re just as bad as he is.”

“Maybe,” he concedes with another chuckle. “But come on, Noona, you can’t tell me you don’t enjoy a drink every now and then. What about all that college stress?”

You hum, leaning back on your hands and staring up at the sky where the full moon is just beginning to rise, surrounded by a smattering of stars peeking through the velvety darkness of night. “I never said that I didn’t enjoy a drink, or five.” Jungkook laughs at your remark, and you smile before letting out a soft sigh. “I’m glad Jimin got the beer, though. Maybe I’ll finally be able to stop stressing out about my internship.”

That sobers Jungkook up immediately, his eyes widening as he peers down at you and lays a gentle hand on your back. “Are you still worried? You already got the job, didn’t you?”

You nod slowly, thinking back to the job offer that you had accepted at the end of the semester. It had been difficult finding a company in your desired field that offered internships to first-year students, but with dogged persistence and a lot of luck, you’d managed to snag a summer position. It isn’t due to start for another three weeks, however, and while you’re grateful for the chance to visit your family, part of you also wishes that you didn’t have to wait such a long time. “I just have no idea what to expect, you know? The only jobs I’ve ever had were in retail and food service, and that was all ages ago. I don’t feel ready at all.”

A strong arm settles across your shoulders, and you look up to see Jungkook gazing down at you with something indiscernible sparkling in his deep brown eyes. “You’re gonna be amazing,” he murmurs, his voice whisper-soft. “You know that, right? You always are. This won’t be any different.”

And you believe him. Every detail of his face is bathed in silvery moonlight—the gentle slope of his nose, the sharp angle of his jaw, the little scar high on his cheekbone—and you wonder how you never realized how handsome he is before now. And maybe it’s the low, soothing timbre of his voice, or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you—with unspeakable tenderness and gentle affection glimmering in his irises—but you lean in before you can even realize what you’re doing. You don’t look away, and neither does he.

Jungkook’s gaze drops, trailing down the slope of your cheeks until it lands on the curve of your mouth. He hesitates for a split second, his throat bobbing harshly as he swallows and sucks in a breath.

And then his lips are pressing against yours—soft and tentative and just a little bit chapped. Your eyes flutter shut almost on instinct, your body relaxing as he shifts and pulls you a little more firmly against him. Slowly, his arm finds its way to the curve of your waist and settles there. Your fingers curl around his nape, carding through his silky hair.

It’s only when Jungkook’s tongue darts out to run along the seam of your lips that reality comes crashing back down, your stomach plummeting down to somewhere around your toes as you wrench away from his embrace. “Kookie!” you gasp, your breathing labored. “We can’t!”

Jungkook blinks, momentarily entrancing you with the way the stars reflect in his gaze like glittering diamonds. “Why not?” he asks, reaching out for you again. “You kissed me back, didn’t you?”

Squeaking, you bat his hands away. “Jungkook, no! We can’t! You’re Jimin’s best friend, and god, this is all kinds of weird, and—“

The dark-haired young man looks like he wants to protest more, but the sound of footsteps coming back around the house sends both of you scooting back to your original positions on the porch steps. Jimin appears two seconds later, plopping down beside Jungkook cheerfully and dropping a six-pack of beer at his feet.

“What’d I miss?” he asks, seemingly oblivious to the tension lingering in the air as he pops open a bottle and hands it to you.

“Nothing,” you say immediately, accepting the proffered beer. The cool glass bottle is a welcome relief, and you hurriedly take a long sip when your mind unwillingly begins to wander back to just how warm and soft your dark-haired companion’s lips had been.

Jungkook is much slower to respond to Jimin’s question. His shoulders slump as he reaches down to grab a drink of his own, twisting the cap open viciously and taking a swig. “Yeah,” he mutters, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Nothing at all.”

Luck must be on your side, because Jimin doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss as he grabs a beer for himself and flops backward, resting his weight on his elbows as he gazes up at the night sky. “It’s nice out,” he remarks, looking utterly at ease.

You are anything but. Beside you, Jungkook is sipping pensively on his beer, and you are painfully aware of the heat radiating off his body. Jimin is still chattering away, rambling about whatever pops into his head, and you take the opportunity to sneak a glance at Jungkook. His face is cast in silvery luminescence from the moon, his mouth pulled down into a deep, contemplative frown—and you are once again forced to shake off thoughts of how nice it felt to have his mouth pressed against yours.

This is Jeon Jungkook, you tell yourself sternly. Friend, neighbor, and Jimin’s best friend in the entire universe. You kissed him, sure, but it was a mistake. A moment of weakness. And it won’t happen again.

You repeat that over and over, silently reciting it in your head like a mantra, until, at last, you finally start to believe it.

///

You’re in the middle of brewing a fresh pot of coffee after a lazy morning spent sleeping in when you spot Jungkook outside through the kitchen window. He’s standing in the yard in a sleeveless white tee, wiping at his forehead with the back of his hand as he thoughtfully regards the row of hedges that serves as the property line between your house and the Jeons’ house next door. In his other hand is a shovel, and you can’t help the way your gaze automatically traces his exposed biceps, admiring the way they flex when he finally selects a spot and begins digging.

“Is the coffee done yet, Noona?”

Jimin’s voice yanks your attention away from your gardening neighbor, your vision overtaken by a mess of fluffy blond bedhead as he sneaks into the space between you and the counter and obnoxiously cuts you off from the pot of fresh brew. “Hey!” you protest, but Jimin just gives you a cheeky wink before grabbing a mug and pouring out a generous helping of piping hot coffee. After a moment’s thought, he pours you a mug as well, handing it over with an exaggerated bow.

You roll your eyes, but accept the warm cup nonetheless. Following him into the living room, you make yourself comfortable on the couch as he flops down onto the carpeted floor and turns on the television. Idly, he begins flipping through the channels in search for something to watch, and you endure random snippets of the morning news, a cheesy soap opera, and a series of infomercials before sighing and rising to your feet again. “I’m getting some food. Want some toast, Chimchim?”

“Mmm. Sure.”

Slowly, you meander your way back into the kitchen. Your mother is standing at the counter stirring sugar into her coffee, and you smile as you walk up to join her. “Morning, Mom.”

“Good morning, sweetie,” she says, taking a careful sip of her drink. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like a log,” you reply with a grin. Grabbing the loaf of bread off the counter, you pull out a few slices and shove them in the toaster. “Do you want toast? I’m making some for me and Chimchim.”

“Just one slice for me,” she says, opening up the dish cabinet and pulling out three plates. Obligingly, you hand her one of the two freshly toasted slices and drop the other onto your plate. Popping some more bread into the toaster, you’re just about to grab the jam from the fridge when there’s a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it!” Jimin yells from the living room. You hear the soft pad of his footsteps in the hallway and the low creak of the front door as it swings open—and then your brother is snorting out a laugh at whoever is on your doorstep. “Dude, why are you covered in dirt?”

You’re beginning to have a sneaking suspicion as to who your guest is, and it’s confirmed when your brother’s question is answered.

“I’m helping Mom plant some hydrangeas out back,” Jungkook’s voice explains, his tall figure stepping into view a moment later. “Can you come help me lift the bushes?”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “You could’ve just texted me.”

“Who knows if you would’ve answered?” Jungkook asks, laughing. “Knowing you, you’d just leave me on read. Besides—” and here he glances over at you, dark eyes glimmering with an emotion that you can’t quite pinpoint, “—I wouldn’t get to see two of my favorite ladies if I didn’t stop by.”

Jimin pretends to vomit at the line, but your mother laughs delightedly as Jungkook takes another step into the foyer and flashes her a winning grin. “Good morning, Jungkookie,” she greets him. “Have you eaten breakfast yet? {Name} was just making some toast, and we’ve got fresh coffee.”

Jungkook’s gaze slides over to you again, taking in the flannel pajama pants and oversized t-shirt you’re wearing. “Thanks, Mrs. Park,” he says, though his eyes never leave yours. “I ate already, but coffee sounds wonderful.”

You are beginning to feel increasingly vulnerable as Jungkook continues looking unblinkingly in your direction. Thankfully, your mom pipes up, drawing his attention away with a decisive clap of her hands. “Coffee it is, then!” she says brightly. “{Name}, why don’t you grab Jungkook a cup?”

Hurriedly, you turn toward the cabinets, trying your best to ignore Jungkook as he chats comfortably with your family. Your success is limited though, and you can feel his penetrating stare lingering on your back even as you fetch a mug and fill it up to the brim.

“Noona.” Jungkook’s voice comes from behind you, much closer than you remember him being. “Can I have some cream and sugar, please?”

Somehow, you manage to reply without stammering. “Yeah. Sure.” Dumping some of the excess coffee into the sink, you spoon in some sugar and give it a quick stir. Just as you turn toward the refrigerator for the cream, a strong arm cuts you off.

“I got it, Noona,” Jungkook murmurs, backing you up against the counter as he tucks the little white carton into your outstretched hand. His proximity has your heart skipping several beats, and you almost drop the carton entirely when he speaks again in a husky whisper, his mouth at the shell of your ear. “Just a little bit, please.”

You are acutely aware of the heat radiating off of his body, warming your back and flushing your cheeks. Quietly, you open up the carton and pour a splash of cream into his mug, the swirl of white melding with the dark liquid within. “Is—is that enough?”

Jungkook reaches around you to open up the silverware drawer, grabbing a spoon and giving the coffee a stir. “That’s perfect,” he purrs, his hot breath stirring gooseflesh on the back of your neck.

This close to him, it’s easy to forget where you are and who you’re with, but you somehow manage to regain enough of your senses to wrench away and reclaim your personal space. “G-great,” you stammer, picking up the mug and shoving it into his hands, determinedly ignoring the ripple of his arm muscles as he accepts. “Um. Chim. Did you want your toast?”

“Yes, please,” Jimin says, barely glancing up from where he’s made himself comfortable at the kitchen island, idly playing on his phone.

Your mother pokes her head around the doorframe of the adjoining laundry room, where she has clearly started a fresh load if the sound of splashing water is anything to go by. “Don’t make your sister do all of the work, Jimin. Go help her—it’s your food, isn’t it?”

Obligingly, Jimin hops off the stool and grabs his favorite jar of jam, joining you at the counter. He takes the slice of toast you offer him, slathering it messily and taking an enormous bite. “Thanks for breakfast, Noona,” he says, blowing you an exaggerated kiss. “Ready, Kook?”

Jungkook raises his mug of coffee in acknowledgement. “Ready.” Then his gaze flickers back to you, twinkling with silent mirth. “And Noona—thanks. The coffee’s delicious.”

You can’t find the words to answer. Silently, you watch him disappear out the front door with Jimin, following his dark head of hair as it bobs across the yard. His biceps flex as he gestures for Jimin to help him lift a hydrangea bush, and your eyes linger on the stretch of defined muscle, tracing the network of prominent veins running along his forearm before your brain can caution you to stop. It’s almost as if you’re on autopilot, and by the time you zone back in, your gaze has wandered too far south for your liking. Letting out an audible groan, you tear your eyes away from the mouthwatering view of his thick thighs and return to your now-cold breakfast. And you don’t think about Jeon Jungkook again, pushing the image of his broad shoulders and handsome face into the darkest recesses of your mind.

Or at least, that was the plan. Jimin comes back inside after about an hour, tracking mud through half the house before your mother reprimands him and orders him to take off his shoes. Jungkook, thankfully, chose to return to his own home as well, and you immediately banish the thought of him showering off all the sweat and grime that has no doubt accumulated on his toned body. You shove away the mental image of water slicking his golden skin and collecting in the hollows of his collarbones, and when your mind conjures up pictures of what lies south of his waist, you resist the urge to scream into the pile of freshly laundered pillowcases your mom presses into your arms.

You’re just about to head upstairs to scream into a real pillow when there’s another knock on your front door—a familiar cadence that you heard just this morning. And that’s when you realize—to your complete and utter dismay—that Jeon Jungkook isn’t done tormenting you yet. Not by a long shot.

“You again? You do realize that this isn’t your house, right?” you ask, swinging open the door and thanking whatever gods may be out there that your voice remains steady. Then you raise a brow, glancing down at his change in attire. “Wait, why are you wearing a suit?”

Jungkook gives you an infuriatingly impish grin. “Do I need a reason?” His hair is still damp from the shower, a stray lock flopping down across his forehead, and as you watch him brush it away absently, you notice that he’s holding something in his free hand.

“What’s that?” you ask curiously.

Footsteps sound from behind you, interrupting before he can answer. “Jungkookie?” your mother asks, appearing at the foot of the stairs. “I thought I heard your voice. Are you here for Jimin again?”

Jungkook flashes her a winning smile and raises the garment bag he’s holding. “No, I was actually hoping to get some advice. I’ve got my suit ready to go for graduation tomorrow, but I can’t decide which shirt looks better. My mom likes how I look in blue, but I wanted a second opinion from you and Noona.”

To your utter annoyance, your mother coos and gestures for him to come in. He’s already wearing the blue shirt—a pale periwinkle one that reminds you of a cloudless day—but your mom takes the garment bag out of his hand and unzips it to look inside. “What are your options?” she asks.

“Blue, red, and yellow,” Jungkook replies, pulling each shirt off its hanger and holding them up to his chest in turn. “What do you think, Mrs. Park?”

“The blue is lovely,” your mom says thoughtfully, straightening his collar. “But this shade of yellow looks nice too. A handsome young man like you—you really can’t go wrong with any of these.”

Jungkook grins and scratches behind his ear, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Thanks, Mrs. Park.”

The dryer chooses that moment to beep shrilly, signalling the end of its cycle, and your mother darts off to tend to it, leaving you and Jungkook alone in the living room.

“What about you, Noona?” Jungkook asks, just as you’re about to try and sneak out under the pretense of helping with the laundry. “Which shirt do you like?”

“Does it matter?” you ask. “It’s just going to be hidden underneath those horrible black trash bags they make you wear.”

He laughs. “Sure, but what about before and after? You know my mom’s going to want to take a million pictures.”

“Can’t argue there.” Resigning yourself to your fate, you put your stack of clean pillowcases down on the arm of the couch and cross your arms over your chest. “Show them to me again?”

Jungkook raises the yellow shirt, holding it up for a few seconds before swapping it out for the red. “Well?”

You pause to consider it. “Red,” you decide after some deliberation, pointing at your choice. It’s a deep crimson color—almost burgundy—and you rub the silky material between your fingertips before taking it and replacing it onto its hanger. Jungkook joins you with the yellow shirt, his arm bumping into yours as you both reach for the garment bag, and even though you flinch away from the contact, Jungkook doesn’t let you stray very far. A strong hand clamps down around your forearm, and you inhale sharply when he backs you up against the wall and cages you in with his solid body.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Jungkook looks thoroughly unfazed as he blinks a few loose strands of hair out of his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“Jungkook—” you hiss, struggling to see over his shoulder if your mother has returned. “Get off me.”

“Come on, Noona,” Jungkook murmurs. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me. Ever since you got back—ever since we kissed—”

“A mistake,” you say, cutting him off with a finger to the lips and glancing around furtively to make sure no one is eavesdropping. “That was a mistake.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “Was it? Because I really wanted to kiss you, and I’m pretty sure you wanted to kiss me too. You kissed back, didn’t you?”

“Y-you—“ You clear your throat and try again, cringing at how shaky your voice comes out. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But Jungkook simply laughs. “Don’t I?” He inches closer until you’re chest to chest, his gaze darkening as it flickers downward and lands on your mouth. Your heartbeat quickens, thudding erratically in your ribcage. It would be so easy to push to your tiptoes and close the distance between your lips.

“God,” you huff. “You’re so—”

His other eyebrow rises to join the first. “I’m so—?” he presses, tilting his head as he awaits your answer. The loose lock of hair flops across his forehead again, and this time you cannot stop yourself from reaching up to brush it away.

“Shut up,” you hiss as your fingers drop down to wind into the soft hair at his nape. “Just shut up.”

And then you’re kissing him—really, really kissing him—pulling him down to your level and sliding your free hand up his infuriatingly toned chest.

“See?” Jungkook’s lips curl up into a smug smirk as he pulls away slightly, his warm breath fanning across your cheeks with every word. “I knew you were into me.”

“God, do you ever stop talking?” you retort, pushing him back until you have enough room to switch your positions and maneuver him against the wall.

Jungkook lets you pin him in place, blinking down at you lazily with his mouth still stretched into that maddening little smirk. “Only if you make me, Noona.” His hands slide down your sides, coming to a stop at your hips in an ironclad grip. “Only if you kiss me like that again.”

So you do. Your fingers tighten in his hair as you crush your mouth to his, and when his lips part you slip your tongue inside. Jungkook—still smirking—relaxes and lets you take control of the kiss, but his hands continue to wander. Before you know it, he’s already snuck underneath the hem of your shirt, rubbing warm circles into the soft skin of your waist. His lips move languidly against yours, his tongue careful and gentle in its exploration of your mouth, and you sigh when he tugs you closer. You’re pressed flush against him by this point, pinning him between your body and the wall, and neither you nor he have any intent to move anytime soon.

The sudden slamming of a door jerks you back to reality. Here you are, standing in the living room where anyone could walk by and see you kissing your brother’s best friend—again. Shakily, you pull away from Jungkook with your heart in your throat, putting as much space as you possibly can between your bodies. “Fuck,” you mutter. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. We can’t do this.”

Jungkook’s chest is heaving, his lips swollen and red. “{Name}—” he tries, but you shake your head and cut him off before he can continue.

“You need to leave,” you whisper.

“But—”

“Please,” you say, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. “Please, Jungkook. Just leave.”

Jungkook swallows, hard. And then, much to your relief, he picks up his garment bag, shoving both shirts back inside. “Okay,” he rasps. “I’ll go.”

Elsewhere in the house, you can hear your mother calling for Jimin. Your father is watching TV in his study—you can hear the low hum of voices and a laugh track. Your entire family is here.

And yet, you’ve never felt more alone as you watch Jungkook stride down the hallway and disappear out the front door.

///

Returning to your high school is odd. The hallways and classrooms are familiar, but they all seem smaller than you remember. And were the ceilings always this short? You aren’t sure. What you are sure of, however, is that Jungkook and his family are currently headed your way, with beaming smiles on their faces and colorful flower bouquets in hand. Greetings and congratulations are exchanged, and it isn’t long before you are face-to-face with Jungkook himself, a tight smile on his face as he meets your eyes.

“Hi, Noona.”

“Hi,” you reply. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

Now that the graduation ceremony is over, he’s taken off his robe to reveal the red shirt underneath. The silky material drapes over his torso and clings to the toned planes of his chest, and your fingers itch to run across the defined muscle. Swallowing down the urge, you instead gesture toward his parents, who are engaged in deep conversation with your own parents while Jimin chats with Junghyun off to the side. “I guess we’re all getting dinner after this, huh?”

He nods. “Yeah, at that one place downtow—“

“Jungkook! Jimin!” A feminine voice interrupts him mid-sentence, and you watch in surprise as both your brother and Jungkook are suddenly engulfed in a massive tangle of limbs. Immediately, you recognize Jisoo and Lisa—two girls you considered casual friends from your own high school days. The third girl in the trio of friends—Chaeyoung—is noticeably absent, but you don’t get a chance to question her whereabouts. “Can you believe it? We’re graduates!” Lisa is saying excitedly, still clutching tightly onto Jungkook’s shoulders. She’s pressed flush against him, her chest molded to his, and the sudden rush of jealousy that takes root in the pit of your stomach takes you aback with its ferocity.

Calm the fuck down, you instruct your pounding heart. Stop it, right now.

“Has Tae told you about the party tomorrow night?” Jisoo asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. “You guys better be there—and that means you, too, {Name}! It’s been forever since we’ve seen you!”

You clear your throat and attempt to smile. “Yeah, it’s been way too long. It’ll be nice to finally catch up.” Unwillingly, your gaze flickers back over to Jungkook and Lisa, doing your best to maintain a neutral expression when you notice the casual way his arm drapes over her shoulders.

Your attempts are in vain. Jungkook notices your stare immediately, a massive shit-eating grin spreading across his face. One eyebrow rises in a silent taunt, and you swear his grip around her tightens. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you instead turn back to Jisoo, finally voicing the question that’s on your mind.

“So, where’s Chaeyoung? I saw her during the ceremony, but haven’t seen her around since. She didn’t leave already, did she?”

“No, she’s still here,” Jisoo answers, exchanging a look with Lisa. Curiosity piqued, you watch her gaze dart over to Jungkook for a split second before returning to you, a tiny smile gracing her face once more. “She’s with her family right now, but she’ll be at the party tomorrow.”

“I’ll congratulate her there, then,” you say, returning her smile with one of her own. Silently, you wonder at the uneasy glance the two girls had exchanged, but decide not to press it, chalking it up to some senior year drama that isn’t any of your business.

“Well, we should probably get going,” Jisoo says after another beat. “We’re off to dinner.”

“We should be on our way too,” you agree, glancing over at where your parents are still chatting, having absorbed Junghyun into their conversation at some point. Bidding the two girls goodbye, you sidle over to join them, trying your best to subtly nudge your parents toward the door.

After what feels like an eternity, your parents finally decide that they’re ready for a change in scenery. The drive to the restaurant is blessedly short, much to the relief of your grumbling stomach, and you are more than grateful for the brief reprieve from Jungkook and his knowing smirk. It doesn’t last long, however, and you mentally brace yourself when you spot the Jeons’ car in the parking lot of the restaurant. Upon entering, you are quickly ushered to your reserved table where the Jeons are already waiting, and somehow in the shuffle you end up right between Jungkook and Junghyun, the former’s face dissolving into a satisfied grin as he watches you sit down.

Then he turns to Jimin, who’s seated on his other side. “Hey, man.”

You bristle at the blatant way he’s ignoring you. But two can play at that game, so you turn to Junghyun with a winning smile, laying a hand on his shoulder for good measure. The older Jeon brother is four years your senior, but despite the age difference, you’ve always gotten along well.

“Junghyun, I haven’t seen you in ages! How have you been?”

The elder Jeon grins and leans in to give you a hug. “Good, good—work’s insane, but that’s old news. What about you? How’s school going so far?”

You can feel Jungkook’s gaze on you, hot and heavy. The hairs on the back of your neck prickle under the weight of it, and you resist the urge to shiver. Instead, you give Junghyun’s bicep a final squeeze before pulling away, steadfastly ignoring the way Jungkook lets out a disgruntled hiss from between his teeth.

“School is good,” you tell Junghyun. “I’m trying to get all my general requirements out of the way early, so my first semester wasn’t very interesting. I took some more focused classes in the second, though, which made things infinitely better.”

The elder Jeon laughs. “Guess that means you’re on the right track then, huh?”

“Guess so,” you reply, laughing right along with him.

The server stops by to take drink orders, and your parents take it upon themselves to order food for the table as well. You continue chatting amicably with Junghyun as the server returns with a tray of water, sodas, and soju; beside you, Jungkook does the same with Jimin. The only break in conversation comes when the server—a pretty girl with a chirpy voice and a nametag that reads ‘Mina’—leans over to set a glass of Coke down in front of Jungkook. He thanks her with a crooked smirk and a low purr of gratitude that has her cheeks flushing pink, and it’s all you can do not to gape at him like a fish. The flirtatious quirk of his lips, the seductive tone—it all comes far too naturally to him, and you wonder for a moment just where the old Jungkook has gone. The Jungkook you used to know stammered every time he had to talk to an unfamiliar girl, and had trouble looking even you in the eye despite having known you since grade school.

But now, he’s nowhere to be found. The young man sitting beside you remains as calm as can be, shifting his body toward Mina so that he can request a straw.

“Of course, here you go!” Mina’s gaze lingers on his hand as he accepts the proffered straw, eyes widening when his fingers brush against hers lightly.

“Fast service,” Jungkook remarks, his voice dipping into a low, indolent drawl. “I like that.”

Mina giggles and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She’s clearly about to respond to him—flirt right back, undoubtedly—but your father stands up and taps his glass with a spoon before she can open her mouth. “I want to make a toast,” he says, and you send him a silent, heartfelt thank you when Mina wisely chooses to make herself scarce. “Congratulations to Jungkook and Jimin, our two rad grads!”

An audible groan rises up from your side of the table, where Jimin has buried his face in his hands. “Oh my god, Dad.”

“What?” your father asks innocently. “I really think you’re rad, grad!”

Jimin groans again, muffled by the sleeves of his jacket. “I want the earth to swallow me whole.”

Laughter all around. More toasts are given, and the bottles of soju scattered around the table slowly dwindle down to their last dregs. Junghyun picks up the one closest to him and fills up your glass for the fourth time, drawing a protesting whine from your lips as you try to cut him off. “Wait, that’s not fair! Pour some for yourself too!”

“Relax, we can always order more,” Junghyun says with a laugh, topping off your glass before glancing around to find Mina. Much to your irritation, she’s already headed your way, bearing loaded platters of meat and vegetables and wearing a bright smile that seems to only be directed to Jungkook.

“I hope you’re all hungry!” she chirps, coming to a stop between you and the subject of her affections. You swear she shoots you a dirty look over her shoulder before turning back to the table, her cheerful facade back in place as she smiles at Jungkook. “Where did you want me to put the meat?”

“Anywhere it’ll fit,” Jungkook tells her with a suggestive smirk, keeping his voice soft enough so that only you and she can hear.

Mina cannot hide her answering smile. Likewise, you cannot hide the way your nostrils flare, throat bobbing as you swallow down the ugly feelings bubbling up in your chest. You can feel Jungkook’s gaze roving across your skin, but you refuse to look at him, stubbornly facing the front as Mina distributes food around the table. As soon as she’s departed again—her fingers brushing across the back of Jungkook’s chair in the process—you’re up and out of your seat, heart beating faster than you’d like to admit.

“Restroom,” you say shortly by way of explanation. It’s thankfully empty when you arrive, and you immediately make a beeline toward the sink to splash some cold water on your cheeks.

It’s absurd—this snaking jealousy coiling in your belly and winding up between the slats of your ribcage. Straightening up, you give your reflection in the mirror a stern look, silently willing the feelings in your chest to abate. Gradually, your heartbeat slows into a regular rhythm, your cheeks cooling, and after waiting another two minutes, you decide that it’s been long enough. Drying off your hands, you exit the restroom and wind your way back to the table, keeping your pace leisurely even when Jungkook looks up and catches your eye. His expression is unreadable, and you valiantly ignore his burning gaze as you take a seat.

“How is everything?” you ask Junghyun, picking up a spoon and piling your plate with food from the nearest platter.

Junghyun pauses mid-bite to answer. His mouth opens, but you don’t catch his answer because there is a sudden, heavy weight on your knee. A warm palm caresses the skin exposed by the hem of your dress, slow and sensual and deliberate. Your eyes widen and your lips part, but no sound escapes. The rest of the table’s occupants fade away into the background, conversations and laughter dulling into a low drone. Beside you, Junghyun is still talking, but all you can hear is blood rushing through your ears.

And on your other side, Jungkook is smirking.

The bastard.

Gentle fingertips skim along your skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Your entire body stiffens, but Jungkook refuses to relent. He’s still chatting with Jimin, chuckling at a joke you didn’t hear, and you wonder how he can remain so calm when you are anything but. Your heart takes off in a sprint, clattering wildly against your ribcage, and for a few moments you are absolutely positive that everyone at the table can hear. Any moment, one of your parents will look over and see how wide your eyes are and how warm your cheeks feel. Any moment, Jimin will look down and see his best friend’s arm snaking beneath the table and realize what’s happening.

And then Jungkook squeezes your thigh, and all thought flies out of your head, dissipating like fog in the sunlight. He’s growing increasingly bold, his fingers trailing up until he can trace the hem of your dress, teasing at the soft material. Your breath hitches in your throat, and Jungkook’s smirk widens. You can see him out of the corner of your eye, trying to hide his smugness behind his soju glass, and for a moment you’re tempted to throw his drink in his face.

But more than that—more than anything else right now—you want him to continue touching you.

He’s sliding beneath your dress now, inching down to the delicate skin of your inner thigh and tracing nonsensical patterns there. You grip the edge of the table as he trails closer and closer to the lace of your panties, knuckles turning white against the dark wood. It’s a wonder no one has noticed your flustered state yet, and you cast concerned glances at Junghyun and Jimin before Jungkook notices your inattention. Punishingly, he slides a single finger into your panties, snapping the lace against your skin and covering the sound with a cough that he buries in his elbow. He can’t hide the way you jolt in your seat though, your knee thudding against the table. Junghyun gives you a worried look, laying a hand on your shoulder as he asks if you’re okay, and you hurriedly nod. And underneath the table, Jungkook resumes his ministrations, languorous and soft and deliberately avoiding the place you need him most, as if he has all the time in the world.

There’s a growing damp spot between your legs. You can feel it seeping through the cottony material of your panties, sticking uncomfortably to your folds. Jungkook’s touch is whisper-soft, caressing along your thigh until your skin is tingling, and it’s all you can do to swallow down the whimper that’s bubbling up in your throat. He’s thoroughly enjoying this—you can tell—and you’re certain he can feel the way you tense up when he suddenly drags a single finger up your clothed slit. A low hiss escapes your parted lips, and in an instant, all eyes are on you.

“Noona?” Jimin asks curiously. “Something wrong?”

“I—” Your mind whirs, searching for an excuse. “It’s nothing. I’m fine. The, uh, sauce was just spicier than I was expecting it to be.”

You haven’t touched a single thing on your plate in minutes, but no one seems to notice your obvious lie. Conversation resumes, and you determinedly pick up your spoon again, intent on getting something more substantial in your belly than the fluttering butterflies that have taken up residence there.

“You sure you want to eat that, Noona?” Jungkook’s voice reaches your ears—a low, dulcet purr that sends electricity shooting down your spine. “You should probably drink some water to cool down.”

And before you can answer—before you even manage to reach for your water glass—he’s slipped his hand into your panties, the warm pad of his thumb pressing experimentally against your clit. The slight pressure has you gasping, your heart pounding hard enough to leap out of your chest as you drop your spoon. Your hands drop down to your lap—one gripping the edge of your chair while the other finds its way around Jungkook’s wrist, and you aren’t sure whether you’re trying to stop him or spur him on. His arm muscles flex underneath your fingertips, and that’s all the warning you get before he angles his hand, a lone finger sinking inside your drenched entrance.

“Oh, fuck.” You can’t stop the strangled curse that escapes your lips, an airy hiss from behind clenched teeth. Your grip on Jungkook’s wrist tightens, but it doesn’t seem to dissuade him at all as he begins a leisurely pace, sinking deeper into your cunt with each thrust.

Luckily, no one hears your whimper. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you bite back the sounds threatening to spill out and instead focus on maintaining as neutral an expression as you can muster. Beneath the table, Jungkook remains relentless. Even when your mother looks over and addresses him directly, he doesn’t cease his ministrations, keeping both his tone and his pace even as he responds.

“Jungkookie, you’ve barely touched your pork belly. Are you full already?”

“Stuffed,” Jungkook replies smoothly. He punctuates the word by adding a second finger, and you almost bang your knee on the table again, your eyes going wide at his audacity.

Your mother pushes the platter of meat closer to him anyway. “No need to be polite, honey. Here, eat up.”

Obligingly, Jungkook picks out a few pieces with his free hand and piles them on his plate. “Thanks, Mrs. Park,” he says as he brings some to his mouth. “It’s delicious.”

Satisfied, your mother turns her attention elsewhere. Jungkook returns his to you, and you almost groan aloud when his thumb brushes against your clit again, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bud before he sheathes both fingers inside you once more. There’s a growing heat coiling in the pit of your stomach by this point, lighting every single one of your nerves on fire. Your body is screaming for release, and Jungkook seems more than eager to give it to you. He’s freed his wrist from your grip, leaving you to clutch helplessly at the table as he angles his fingers upward. No doubt he’s searching for the spot that will have you seeing stars, and you know he’s found it when a sudden burst of pleasure spikes through you. Your mouth falls lax, and Jungkook grins, thoroughly satisfied.

There’s something building inside you, something that has your tummy tensing and your toes curling in your shoes. Jungkook’s fingers dig deep, his palm rubbing against your clit with every thrust, and it takes every remaining ounce of your self-control to resist the urge to rock your hips into his hand. A bit more of that delicious friction, and you’ll be falling over the edge. You know it, and so does Jungkook if the smirk on his face is anything to go by.

And then a voice is pulling you back to reality, a warm hand settling on your shoulder. You flinch at the contact, your startled gaze flying up to Junghyun’s, and balk when you see him staring at you with equal parts amusement and concern.

“I—what?” you stammer. “Did… did you say something?”

Beneath the table, you feel Jungkook’s fingers retreat, leaving you empty and aching for release. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook wipe his glistening hand on his napkin, a frown that can only be described as petulant settling onto his face.

“Whoa, relax!” Junghyun drags your attention back to him, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I just wanted to say goodbye. I have to be up early for work tomorrow, so I’m driving back into the city tonight.”

“Oh!” It takes you a few seconds to process his words. “Right, yeah. Have a safe drive back. It was good to see you.”

“Ditto,” he replies, flashing you a warm grin. “But hey, are you all right? You’ve been a little weird the whole night. Was it the food?”

Gratefully, you seize upon the excuse. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine. I think maybe something isn’t sitting quite right in my stomach, but I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about it.”

He nods and leans in for a hug. “Take care of yourself, yeah?”

“You too. Bye, Junghyun.”

With the elder Jeon brother’s departure, everyone else quickly decides that it’s time to disperse as well. You adamantly refuse to look in Jungkook’s direction as your parents fight over the bill, focusing your goodbyes on Mr. and Mrs. Jeon even when he glances your way with a knowing little smirk and a soft murmur of, “Bye, Noona.”

You can’t look at him. Not when every movement reminds you just how damp your panties are, your core begging for relief. Not when he’s waggling his fingers in farewell—the gesture anything but innocent. “Bye,” you warble weakly, before fleeing to the car.

The memory of his fingers burns fresh in your mind later that night as you lie in bed, your hand stuffed down your panties and working furiously to find that sweet, sweet relief.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #kpop scenarios #brother's best friend!au #brother's best friend au #lia writes

3K notes · View notes

somerpmemes · 3 years

Text

The Owl House Starters

Change as needed

“No! My only weakness! Dying!”

“That doesn’t count, right?”

“Do you have any friends? Real ones?”

“Tiny trash thief!”

“Oops, that happens sometimes.”

“I’m a squirmy little fella.”

“I like food, I like love, just let me write about it!”

“Oh, he gets so cute when he’s thirsty for power.”

“I’ve never actually broken any of your stupid laws… in front of you.”

“I hate everything you’re saying right now.”

“We’d be the strongest power couple ever.”

“Self-doubt is a prison you can never escape from.”

“Anyways, let’s bounce before any more monsters fall in love with me.”

“I am not your cutie pie!”

“No one wants an un-oiled snake.”

“Remember, never befriend a man in sandals and always measure twice, cut once.”

“Be back by nightfall or risk mortal peril!”

“I know I’ve had enough delight for one day.”

“Sorry to break it to you, ___, but no one here is that well-dressed.”

“This has been a rough day.”

“Big houses always belong to big whack jobs.”

“Today just got good.”

“Wizards are just old people with glitter in their pockets.”

“Anyways, your food is gone and we are too.”

“Never trust a man in casual drapery.”

“All that mean-spirited laughter made me sleepy.”

“I don’t like this. I really don’t like this.”

“All your food was so tiny and cute.”

“If you can think of a better plan I’d love to hear it.”

“Betrayed by my own cool accessories.”

“I didn’t have to be part of this!”

“I… don’t like this.”

“I think I’ll head home and look at pictures of animals that are still… alive.”

“Wow, you’re so unnoticeable I almost rolled into you.”

“It’s okay, the thorns only went through a few layers of skin.”

“Alright, into the darkness you go.”

“Oh my god, I haven’t eaten real food in so long please give me some.”

“You can’t just cut open a human, can you?”

“Keeping junk in my pocket saved my life!”

“Ahh, baby’s first wanted poster.”

“Even demons have inner demons.”

“This is my paying attention face.”

“Look, now we’re boo boo buddies.”

“It’s like a rainbow, but looking at it turns you inside out.”

“I respect your cunning but I also hate you for it.”

“Oh, gross. Can I keep that?”

“This is terrifying, so why do you look so happy?”

“Oh no, a twist!”

“I’m kind of over that nickname, but okay.”

“Oh, what lovely thing do we have here? It’s just so dang shiny, oh my.”

“And look, I drew flip book.”

“I will literally do anything to stop this.”

“If I’m seen, I could go to jail… again.”

“Alright, let’s see this mess.”

“That’s probably fine.”

“Time to prepare for bloodshed.”

“Welcome down to my level!”

“I know I should be repulsed but that look is fierce.”

“I’m gonna steal everything that’s not nailed down!”

“I was up all night poison tasting and, for some reason, I don’t feel great.”

“I need an extra pair of eyes looking out for pickpockets. And an extra pair of hands in case I want to pickpocket.”

“I got leaves in my pants. And I like it.”

“I was a strange child.”

“You think this can stop me? I can still bite your ankles.”

“If you’re gonna eat me, just do it now!”

“___, you’re getting all swoony again.”

“Rivals are meant to be annihilated, not befriended.”

“Witches eating babies is so 1693.”

“Ugh, you.”

“I thought we were as cool as cucumbers but we’re as sour as pickles.”

“Whoa, I almost passed out.”

“It’s been hours, how can it keep screaming!?”

“Say that again and I steal your tongue.”

“Keep going, this is fun to watch.”

“Isn’t that taking it a bit too far?”

“Just go away before things somehow get worse!”

“This never happened.”

“And who doesn’t like their name in lights?”

“That’s the incorrect reaction!”

“I smell an easy mark.”

“Well, I hate her.”

“It’s like demonic possession with the ones you love.”

“This is just like my favorite early 2000’s movie!”

“I’m so old… and pointy.”

“I’ve got some very confusing emotions right now.”

“My life’s not a joke! But yours is!”

“Novelty costumes are where I draw the line.”

“I am not above disrespecting my elders.”

“This vacation just took an alarming, back-alley turn.”

“Geez, I thought I’d like being babied. But I feel small and helpless, like some sort of baby.”

“Hey, take this, society!”

“I didn’t like her telling me what to do before, but now I love it!”

“Let’s go let out some teen angst!”

“This is how the cool kids ride. Super backwards, on purpose.”

“Your life is pretty terrible. But, hey, it’ll probably be over soon.”

“This is some of my best work, really captures the shame.”

“That’s sweet, kid. Now let’s never speak of this again.”

“Show, don’t tell, man.”

“Oh, look what you did. I’m gonna go rub it in.”

“That seems like a potential problem to me.”

“You being the razzle, I’ll bring the dazzle.”

“Do you always have confetti on you or—?”

“You’re just gonna be unhelpful, huh?”

“Okay, time to run for no particular reason!”

“Oof, I’ve had this nightmare before.”

“Like I’d actually apologize.”

“I want power, and I want drama.”

“Are you ready to give up?”

“I was afraid, I acted stupid.”

“I just wish you told me the truth.”

“You know, it didn’t taste as bad as I thought I would.”

“Impressive, still alive.”

“This is a throne worthy of a tyrant!”

“No, no, keep those sticky hands away.”

“No one wants to see that.”

“Since when are you into sports?”

“Gross, sympathy.”

“Don’t spend all night plotting revenge.”

“Oh, this is an interesting development.”

“I’ll take that weird grumble as a yes.”

“I’m feeling confident about this plan.”

“Trust must be earned.”

“If you run, you’ll just make it harder for yourself!”

“Your pride has destroyed you.”

“So tiny, so angry.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be clean again.”

“If you ever want to search for the truth, I’ll help you.”

“Aww, that’s a horrible lie.”

“Partake of my free snack samples!”

“Why isn’t anyone paying attention to me?”

“A, eww. B, I’m bored. C, I feel like pickpocketing some dork while they browse.”

“I know my good angle.”

“Ugh, what are the basement dwellers doing out in natural sunlight?’

“Hey, there’s more to life than shipping.”

“___, I know you’re trying to help, but I think you’re crossing a line.”

“Ooh, I love punching.”

“You’re ominous, and I like it.”

“And of course you would be here just to be a nuisance.”

“I wanted to compare sunglasses.”

“Fame can really box you in, you know?”

“Besides, if anyone’s putting you down it’s gonna be me.”

“If it’s disappointing in any way I’ll spend the rest of my life trashing it.”

“He scammed us. Can you believe he scammed us?”

“Good entrance. But that outfit? Hah!”

“I’ve got a new crush and her name is education!”

“Ahh, fresh garbage.”

“I have never seen such an extravagant earring.”

“Wow, a surprisingly peaceful domestic moment. When will it be ruined?”

“Weaponizing my pride, well played.”

“Sorry, whoever’s over there!”

“Well, go on. Eat the snow.”

“Huh, it’s no fun if they don’t tremble.”

“Oh, okay, alright. Yup, an idea’s happening.”

“Shh! I don’t need your validation!”

“Get back here before that thing bites you!”

“No, we’re gonna die.”

“Cool. I didn’t actually think you could do it.”

“It’s not a secret.”

“Alright, your adorable banter is literally making me sick.”

“Believe it or not, I’ve seen worse.”

“Aww. I won’t be doing that, but thanks.”

“Quitting: it’s like trying, but easier.”

“You humans are filled with liquids, right?”

“I guess I have always liked pouring things into other things.”

“Time to scrounge through the trash.”

“I ain’t no desk jockey.”

“You don’t know diddly dang about squiddly squat!”

“I love secret rooms!”

“You have an aura of lies.”

“Also, you can eat trash.”

“Do the right thing, you dingus!”

“It just goes on like this for an hour.”

“Carnivals bring crowds and crowds bring suckers.”

“We’ve got scams to run.”

“I know poison when I see it.”

“You can’t scam a scammer.”

“You should really put a lock on your closet.”

“I love crimes!”

“Now this is my kind of weird.”

“That’s way safer than becoming blood brothers.”

“Beat up the man and steal his things for me.”

“This mama is ready for trauma.”

“All right. Approval!”

“Curse these stubby legs!”

“Sketchy carnival rides are not to blame this time.”

“___, you’re lucky I can’t be mad at your adorable antics.”

“Just when I thought I couldn’t respect the law any less…”

“Aww, what a supportive sign.”

“Yep, I just counted to one million.”

“Looks like we ruined his life for a second time.”

“I’ve always wanted to own a jagged piece of cheap metal.”

“Yes! Bread puns, bread puns forever!”

“Now I know what friendship tastes like.”

“I think today is a talons day.”

“It’s fun because it’s stupid.”

“I’ll admit, I was adorable.”

“Be careful with my brain.”

“Wouldn’t you rather talk about it?”

“That’s my motto after all, ‘Out of sight, out of mind.’”

“No schemes, no plots, no ruses. None.”

“I can’t believe I made him cry.”

“Are you solving a crime or about to commit one?”

“Sadly this is one problem crime can’t solve.”

“I’m supposed to choose someone interesting, accomplished, and noteworthy. People aren’t meant to be all those things!”

“Yup, her brain’s burned up real good.”

“Be still my fantasy-loving heart.”

“I’m pretty good at getting stuck inside people’s heads.”

“Hey, I found something magical.”

“I’ma put my face in it.”

“It’s like a little doghouse for angels.”

“If you’re handing out attention, I deserve it.”

“Eww, I mean, aww.”

“I really messed things up.”

“It’s eggs, it’s full of eggs.”

“No one turns down an interview with someone this pretty.”

“Me? Avoid? What? No. But let’s skip it.”

“There’s levels to me, kid. Levels I say!”

“Oh, right, I put people in there.”

“I’m gonna hug you so hard you’ll never forget me again!”

“I regret teaching you about the internet.”

“Ah, a severed hand. Perfect response.”

“Hmm, the demon at my shoulder makes a good point.”

“Always trust a shoulder demon.”

“The more I look at him, the more uncomfortable I get.”

“Man, you’ve got some quick grabbers.”

“I can’t wait to get overdressed, take awkward photos, push all the buttons!”

“We’re gonna turn this bloodbath into a fun bath.”

“Do you think I could pull off red eyeshadow?”

“Girl, you could pull off anything.”

“We’re style geniuses!”

“Ominous footsteps, creepy woods, this is no problem.”

“Dang, I look great.”

“___, you always go overboard and I end up bailing you out.”

“Now, what’s the fun in watching a kid get eaten by a monster if it’s my kid?”

“___, I don’t think you’re ready but we’re literally out of time.”

“Why so twitchy, witchy?”

“Teenagers are brutal. They’ll boo anyone and that kind of public humiliation will stick with you for life.”

“You look nice. Strange, but nice.”

“Honestly, I’m kind of amazed with how fearless you are.”

“You’ve done things I could never do.”

“Thing is, you’re sitting in my personal chitchat zone, which means you gotta talk.”

“I am a little weirdo.”

“You gotta pander.”

“Cheating a isn’t anything to brag about.”

“Well, can’t reason with crazy!”

“I’ve been talking for too long.”

“Feeling sentimental?”

“I love water.”

“I don’t know much about sports but I do know about sports movies.”

“What happens in the montage stays in the montage.”

“Not everything can be solved with a good attitude and a dope movie soundtrack.”

“Sorry, I just really love backstories.”

“You just destroyed your social life.”

“That’s such a stupid rule!”

“You’re not gonna show this to anyone, right?”

“I haven’t forgotten what you promised me.”

“Ahh, you’re a thorn in my side but you always dig your way into my heart.”

“Jeez, you’re morbid.”

“Ahh, it’s a fate much worse than death if you think about it.”

“Please don’t make me regret taking you here.”

“Love me a properly ventilated castle.”

“I spy with my little eye something coming this way!”

“I’m going away and I don’t know if I can come back this time.”

“And ___, thank you, for being in my life.”

“I want her back as much as you do.”

“Don’t look at me like that, this is for your own good.”

“Ah farts, I got caught.”

“You understand, don’t you?”

“Please tell me that’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“To be great, you have to make sacrifices.”

“Ahh, ___, you chose the wrong side.”

“I like your spirit, but try that again and things won’t end well for you.”

“Go on, then. Go be a hero.”

“I may have lost but so have you.”

“I can teach you what I know, and what we don’t know we can learn together.”

#the owl house #starters #rp starters #sentence starters #sentence starter meme #rp #rp meme #ask meme #long post

324 notes · View notes

the-lone-witch-and-secret-room · 3 years

Text

The Blight twins, codependency and fatal communication failure

Recently I talked about “the Blight children and toxic behaviors”, specifically about the tough love fallacy and how their parents get them to target each other rather than backing each other up.

In that post I mentioned wanting to make one specifically on the relationship of the Blight twins, and, well, here we are.

When we think of The Owl House and unhealthy/toxic platonic relationships, we think of the one Amity has with the twins in the earlier episodes, or Eda and Lilith, or the one the Blight kids have with their parents. I’m pretty sure very few people would look at these words and think of Edric and Emira… but it’s true nonetheless. The twins are raised in a very toxic environment that teaches them a lot of unhealthy mechanisms. The heavily codependent relationship the two siblings share is incredibly unhealthy for both of them.

Let’s get into why.

More under cut because hell this got long.

Who am I without you?

The Blight Twins always show up as a unit. They’re a set of two, who share the same track and are involved in the same shenanigans.

We never see them separate from each other in the show. Not a single time.

Their mother picks their matching outfits, according to Dana, because she likes her kids to be “color-coordinated.” They’re supposed to always look similar.

To Amity, they’re a united front—we don’t get to see her relationship to them separate from each other, we only get her relationship with “the twins.”

As far as I’m aware we’ve never gotten art from Dana featuring just one of them. They’re also often treated as a pair by the fandom (outside of their respective ships, that is), showing up together and showcasing very similar behaviors in fics, showing up together in fanart, etc.

We don’t have much content of just one of them with Amity (or anyone else that’s not their romantic partner).

You also don’t generally see them disagreeing a lot in fan content, which is interesting. Despite being two separate characters, they don’t get to actually be separate from each other a ton.

The main difference you see in their portrayal is in Emira being treated as the more responsible older sister, while Edric gets treated as more goofy (and a bit of an idiot), both in the show and fanon content. But that’s essentially it.

The twins are the twins. There’s no “just Edric” or “just Emira”. They don’t seem to exist without each other.

Their united front is both their greatest strength and their weakest link. They likely experienced a similar abuse as the one Amity went through, but they always had each other to lean on instead of enduring it alone. And while it definitely helps them a ton that they have each other, it also results in an unhealthy amount of codependency. Edric and Emira ONLY ever had each other. Their relationship with Amity is pretty bad and outside of that almost nonexistent up until Lost In Language, mostly used to hurt each other. Edric is always with Emira and Emira is always with Edric and there is no one else they can fall back on. Their most important relationship, the one with each other, is simultaneously the only one they have, one that they desperately clung to for a very long time. They don’t have any friends that we’re aware of.

Both Emira’s and Edric’s worst fear is born out of this. Despite being completely opposite fears, they stem from the same basic issue. In Enchanting Grom Fright, when they talk about their worst fears, Edric says “Being alone forever.” while Emira says “Being stuck with you forever.”

There is so much characterization in those two little sentences.

Edric has a fear of being alone because he’s always around Emira. He doesn’t know what it’s like to be alone, and he doesn’t want to find out. He doesn’t know who he is without Emira. This is somewhat subtle in the show, but she’s shown to be the more responsible of the two, preventing her brother from eating snow and being bitten by a bat. Edric looks to Emira for guidance, and his fear of being alone might stem from him not thinking himself capable of taking care of himself. Emira is smart and knows what she’s doing, and so Edric always runs after her. Even just entertaining the thought of being without her, without anyone to guide him, scares him so much that he proclaims it his worst fear. He likely leans on Emira a ton.

His desire to to lean on other people because he thinks himself incapable of handling issues himself comes with the possibility of him opening up easier, to the extent of oversharing, doing it so much that it becomes overbearing for Emira. But even if he can open up about some of the fears he has related to not meeting their parents expectations, he can’t really communicate the issues he has that involve Emira, because open communication about their issues is something they generally struggle with (see the point about lack of communication further below). Edric is under the impression that he needs someone else because he’s never been without Emira and doesn’t know what it’s like to exist without her. And as long as he has someone to lean on, he never has to find out if he’s truly as incapable as he thinks himself to be. His refusal to let go of her fuels his fear further—the tighter he holds on, the scarier the thought of letting go becomes.

Emira doesn’t know who she is without Edric either, and that’s exactly the reason she wants to break out of that dynamic so desperately. She doesn’t want to be nothing but someone’s twin for the rest of her life. She wants to just be herself, not have all her interests linked to her brother, for people to stop mentioning her only in the same sentence as Edric. She’s had enough of the matching. What Emira really wants is independence—from her brother, and, to a larger extent, her parents and their control.

Edric leaning on her as much as he does makes Emira feel responsible for him, and she struggles to let go of that because she doesn’t want to hurt him—but the tighter he holds on because he believes he needs her, the more overwhelmed Emira feels by her brother and the responsibility she holds for both of them.

Emira loves Edric, but she’s his sister, and can’t provide him with emotional support 24/7. Spending all day handling someone else’s issues can be pretty draining, especially when you struggle to share the ones you yourself have.

With Emira’s longing for independence comes a refusal to lean on anyone, especially on Edric, because she can’t at the same time let herself be vulnerable and need his support while also wanting to break out of their current dynamic. So Emira doesn’t talk about her issues, she doesn’t cry, she doesn’t lean on anyone. Emira is independent and strong and she doesn’t need anyone, especially not Edric.

It likely started out as them leaning on each other, but where Edric started to become too dependent on Emira always being there, Emira started growing increasingly overwhelmed and pulling back, catching them in a vicious circle of him trying to hold on tighter in order not to lose her, which causes her to draw back further.

To be clear:

a) Emira is not a terrible person for wanting to be away from Edric. What she said hurt him and came across as callous, but what he said harmed her too, even if the “why” that I just explained isn’t as blatantly obvious in the show. Edric isn’t a terrible person for relying on Emira so much, either. Neither of them are inherently malicious in any way, even if they do hurt each other. That they have to deal with these issues in the first place is rooted in the abuse they experienced, specifically in their parents treating them as a two-part set rather than two separate people their whole life.

b) I think it should be clear now why Edric’s behavior is toxic, but I want to address that Emira’s behavior is also an issue. While her desire for independence in itself is normal and healthy, she’s striving for a toxic kind of independence where she doesn’t need anyone anymore, which wouldn’t be good for her either.

Everyone needs to rely on other people sometimes, and if she doesn’t allow herself to, it’s going to cause some serious damaged in the long run. The most reliable relationship she had, the only support system she has, falls victim to her desire to be away from Edric… and only after she is she’s going to realize just how much she needed him, needed anyone to be there, too.

I think it’s very interesting that Edric’s and Emira’s issues are essentially inverted—they have the same root, but their problems are the exact opposite.

Edric is Emira’s mirror image.

This is also shown visually. With the matching clothes and identical dominant features (eye and hair color), they look extremely similar. Their beauty marks are what makes them into a mirror image rather than just looking identical, because they’re on opposite sides of their face. Emira’s is on her right cheek, Edric’s on his left. If they face each other, the marks mirror each other perfectly.

They had the same thing in the concept art I’ve seen of them too, but it was with identical earrings on opposite sides rather than beauty marks.

Caged Freedom

I couldn’t find a way to somehow smoothly fit this into the overlaying topic, but it’s an important part of the reason for their communication issues I go into below, and also just something that I wanted to go into, so take it or leave it.

The twins appear extremely confident, seem like they always get what they want (Amity even resents them for “getting away with everything”), but they really, really doesn’t. Sneaking out of school is the only way they can have the slightest bit of normalcy and freedom and control over their life, and Edric and Emira cannot be caught or it will come back to bite them—the reason they wanted to punish Amity in the first place is that she told on them for skipping, getting them in trouble.

Even within their “rebellion” against their parents, there’s a set system Emira and Edric have to operate within—matching clothes, perfect scores, not doing anything that could get back to their parents or harm the family reputation. Despite skipping school, they both maintain excellent grades. It’s said in Adventures in the Elements, Amity is even trying to beat their best score on an exam.

It’s a careful, calculated kind of resistance, not one that includes them openly opposing their parents. They do things their parents wouldn’t like, they tread lines, but they’re being smart about it, in hopes it will never get back to their parents. Even their limited freedom is caged in that way.

Despite seeming as confident as they do, they’re too scared to talk back to their parents. They cause exactly the kind of trouble that they know is possible to get away with without putting themselves in harm’s way. Going further, openly calling their parents out for how they’re being treated, would be dangerous, and so they don’t. They operate within the system and follow it as much as they have to in order to be able to push the boundaries even slightly.

Their endless confidence, their apparent fearlessness, is just another illusion of theirs.

They wouldn’t need to get back at Amity for telling on them if their behavior was just a huge “fuck you” to their parents. But they do, because their parents aren’t supposed to know. They’re scared, even if they’d never admit that.

Emira and Edric target Amity as a way to cope with the treatment they receive from their parents, which they to an extent blame on Amity (I’ve gone over this more in-depth in the toxic behaviors post I linked above).

Hurting Amity in hopes she won’t tell on them again seems safe in a way that actively calling out their parents behavior could never be.

Lack of Communication

Edric and Emira both have trouble communicating their feelings in a healthy way, and instead of open communication and talking things through they revert to backhand comments and punishment.

They grown up believing that severe punishments are necessary, “tough love” used to help someone improve as shown (and literally quoted) in Lost In Language in regards to Amity. That’s also something I go into my other Blight sibs post.

Regarding the backhand comments, let’s look at their worst fears in Enchanting Grom Fright again. As explained above, Emira’s “being stuck with you forever”-fear is a shitty attempt at trying to get across that she’s unhappy with never getting to be apart from Edric to just be herself. Edric’s “being alone forever” brings up a huge fear of his, especially of being abandoned by Em, which, regarding her worst fear, is justified.

Both of these fears are extremely understandable, and they don’t necessarily have to be at odds with each other—Emira just wants to not feel overwhelmed by Edric, and figure out who she is, and she doesn’t have to completely abandon him to achieve that, even if it’s something she might think she wants now. Edric has to find a way to be able to rely on himself more because Emira can’t always be around him, but he can still maintain a close, positive relationship with her, and would absolutely be able to make other friends that could support him.

What them voicing these fears is, for both of them, is a desperate cry for help, for change. Edric wouldn’t be bringing this up if there wasn’t a part of him that desperately wants to talk to Emira about this, and in the same way Emira wouldn’t have said her fear if she wouldn’t want it too. But the issue is that the twins don’t actually communicate. They put these huge things out there, validating the other’s worst fear with what they say. And then they don’t talk it out. These sentences just hang in the air between them, and then they move on like nothing happened, both anxious and hurt.

And this is because the Blight family in general doesn’t communicate. As mentioned before, the twins don’t dare to talk back to their parents, they do things behind their backs and hope they won’t get caught. They don’t communicate with Amity, and despite Edric and Emira being the closest person the other has, they don’t really communicate the issues in their relationship with each other either, because they don’t know how. This is not a skill they were ever taught, because talking things through like that requires them to be extremely vulnerable. To acknowledge what their worst fears are and why, that they might have gone too far or might have been wrong about some of the things they said, and therefore admit to not being perfect.

But Blights are required to be perfect, and Blights aren’t wrong—if others don’t see things your way, you make them. If others don’t act the way you want them to, you punish them. Tough love to help them grow and “encourage” them to make the “right” decision.

There’s no room for open communication in an environment that sees vulnerability as a shortcoming, and admitting mistakes as a weakness. If neither party is willing to take the first step, communication withers and dies, and the issues go ignored as they grow. Admitting there’s an issue in the first place, and that it might partially be your fault, is considered backing down. And Blights don’t back down. They can’t.

If you back down in business, let others convince you into a bad contact, you’ll never be successful. Worst case: it might be the end. And so you don’t back down. You never do. Blights don’t lose an argument. The other person has to break and back down first.

But that can’t work when both people involved were raised with that mindset. So Emira doesn’t make the first step, and neither does Edric, and aside from their backhand comments that never lead anywhere, they just suffer silently as their relationship disintegrates without as much as their acknowledgement of it.

For Edric, there’s also the issue that bringing up his fear might possibly drive Emira further away, knowing her fear. He doesn’t want to make her angry, and doesn’t want to fight with her, because it might lead to him losing her, which is exactly what he so desperately wants to prevent.

I can’t remember which post brought it up, but one post I read a while back also addresses how despite admitting that her behavior was wrong, we never hear Amity say “sorry” to Willow. Because if there’s one thing the Blight family does even less than admitting mistakes in the first place, it’s apologizing for them. Open communication is weak. Apologizing is weaker.

In summary: There needs to be a balance between depending on yourself and still being able to ask others for support when you need it, and Emira and Edric are currently sitting on opposite ends of the same issue. Both of them need to move more towards the middle. What one of them so desperately wants is what the other needs to recognize.

Emira realizes that she needs space from Edric, and because Edric doesn’t recognize it, he’s the one that needs space from Emira more. He desperately needs to realize that clinging to each other the way they currently are isn’t healthy.

Edric realizes that he needs support from other people, and that’s something Emira denies for herself that she really needs to realize.

They both have half of the solution to their shared problem, but their difficulties communicating the issues within their relationship properly prevent them from finding a healthy solution together.

For everyone that’s incredibly sad now (myself included): I cover these topics in several of my fics.

Most prominently, Locked Out, where I’m currently beginning to explore the Blight twins and their different mindsets further.

Most recently, Sleight of Hand, a collab fic I did with my friend @lexa-alycia, where, among other things, the twins have a long overdue conversation regarding the things said in Enchanting Grom Fright.

But also 6/8 of my currently posted Owl House fics (not counting another additional two that also do and are done but haven’t been posted yet) give focus to at least one of the Blight twins if not both, so yeah I have plenty of twins content on my profile for anyone that wants XD

Next up, probably (because I just do not want to be done with this apparently): a post regarding Vinem and Jerbric and why these relationships would work and be extremely beneficial for everyone involved.

224 notes · View notes

illuminatedquill · 3 years

Text

Extracurricular, An Analysis

Oh Ji-soo and Bae Gyu-ri

“Love is the ultimate outlaw. It just won’t adhere to any rules. The most any of us can do is sign on as it’s accomplice.” - Tom Robbins

You know the story. You’ve heard it before, right?

Boy meets girl.

Girl finds out that boy is running a side protection business for prostitutes.

Girl decides to blackmail boy into letting her join his business.

Classic high school criminal shenanigans ensue leading them into more dangerous situations where they are forced to make desperate decisions to stay alive.

Oh, and they fall in love along the way.

Oh? You haven’t heard this one before? Then let me introduce you to this delightful kdrama called Extracurricular.

I watched this one while waiting for the newest Hometown Cha Cha Cha episodes to drop and ended up binging the whole series in two days. There are many remarkable parts of this series: it’s a crime drama, first and foremost, that showcases high school teenagers caught in a cycle of violence and crime, abandoned by the society and adults that are supposed to be protecting them. There are no clear good guys and bad guys in this drama; everyone is cast in shades of grey. Our main leads, Oh Ji-soo and Bae Gyu-ri, run the prostitution business, and are both from broken family backgrounds. Their actions are morally questionable at best, but the top tier performances from Kim Dong Hee (you might remember him from Itaewon Class) and Park Ju Hyun make you cheer for them anyway. You want them to have a happy ending, despite the horrible things they do. The audience is always reminded that despite how clever they are in staying ahead, their actions have consequences, and they’re just high school kids. The drama never pulls it punches.

But, weirdly enough, it’s also a love story. And that’s the part the really sticks with me until now. (The chemistry between the main leads is absolute dynamite and I could watch ten episodes of them just verbally sparring with each other. They don’t even kiss. They’re that fantastic when together on screen.)

I’m writing this because this is undoubtedly one of my all time favorite kdramas and I have a lot of feelings about our main pairing, Ji-soo and Gyu-ri. I can’t call them a couple (wait, didn’t I just say they fall in love) because their relationship can’t be labelled simply as that. Think of it as something similar to the main leads in My Ahjussi. Two people who should have become soulmates, yet met at the wrong time.

This kdrama is not particularly happy, and while I do encourage people to watch this, I am warning that the subject matter is extremely dark. If you’re sensitive to scenes depicting sexual assault, graphic violence, or anything in that zip code you’ll want to steer clear.

Also, I’ll be diving into spoiler territory in this analysis. So if you want to go in clean, then stop reading here.

Still here? Awesome. Let’s dive deep into the messy, amazing pairing that is Oh Ji-soo and Bae Gyu-ri. First, let’s do a brief character background on our two main leads, starting with Ji-soo.

Oh Ji-soo is one half of our main pairing and this story starts with him. He lives by himself and has been essentially abandoned by his only parents; his father is a failed businessman who gambles whatever money he acquires on scams and his mother ran away. His apartment is small, sparse, but functional. He owns only a few outfits aside from his school uniform. The only unique item he owns is a pet hermit crab that he takes care of. His life outside of school is non-existent; he has no friends, no one to hang out with and do typical high school teenager activities with. He takes care of himself and lives only for himself and his “dream”: to graduate, attend college, get married, and have kids like a normal person.

But to do that, he needs a large amount of money. He has no other financial means to do so (his father is largely absent, as is his mother), so he decides, at some point, to start up this protection business for prostitutes. The drama doesn’t go into detail about the how and why he came to this conclusion that this was the best way to make a lot of money in a short amount of time, so you’ll have to suspend your disbelief from the get go. Considering the themes of the story (how youths abandoned by society tend to act out in extreme ways to make it in this world), it’s not hard to believe his desperation would drive him to make such a decision.

Ji-soo, despite his shady business, is actually a decent person. There’s a streak of humanity that exists inside him that refuses to go out, despite the increasingly dark and bleak events that start to overtake his life. He’s attached to his hermit crab, cares for his “employees” outside of them being tools to make him money, and doesn’t want to see anyone get hurt. He goes above and beyond what’s required to help out people at the risk of his own life (in particular, Gyu-ri, and we’ll get into that shortly).

What we learn from the first few episodes is that Oh Ji-soo is extremely smart and methodical in how he approaches his life. At school, he is known as a model student - quiet, top of the class in terms of grades, doesn’t draw any attention to himself, always follows along with what the teachers ask of him. Only his homeroom teacher, Mr. Cho, seems to consider his quiet style of existence to be concerning and tries to make him less socially awkward by pairing him up with another student in a new extracurricular club. This leads to the introduction of Bae Gyu-ri, Ji-soo’s longtime crush and future partner-in-crime.

Meet Bae Gyu-ri, the other half of our dynamic duo. Her introduction into the story kickstarts the entire plot, as one of her earliest actions leads to a domino effect that spells increasing doom and tragedy for our main leads. She messes with Ji-soo’s operation at a critical moment and she spends the rest of the drama doing her best to make up for the consequences that follow.

In my personal opinion, she is probably the best main female lead I’ve ever seen in a kdrama. Hands down, no other character exists (currently) that rivals her sheer cunning, wit, and badassery. Gyu-ri is Crazy, capital C, and is the chaos to Ji-soo’s control; the fire to his ice. Despite being the direct cause of half the events that happen to Ji-soo in the drama, he can’t help but need her because of what she offers. They make an incredible team. Her competitiveness, her need to win no matter the odds, helps them survive time and time again.

Gyu-ri is from the opposite end of the spectrum of Ji-soo; he’s dirt poor and she’s insanely rich (always nice to see a reversal of typical kdrama tropes). Her mother and father run a successful entertainment company. Gyu-ri is popular at school, friends with seemingly everybody, pretty, cheerful and gets along well with her teachers. Ji-soo, and the audience, believe from the beginning that she has the perfect life. It’s not hard to believe that she’s just involving herself in Ji-soo’s business because she’s bored and needs an outlet, at first.

We soon learn otherwise. Gyu-ri has more in common with Ji-soo than he initially realizes, in that they’re both trapped in circumstances beyond their control - it’s just that Gyu-ri’s cage is gilded, whereas his is not. Her parents are strict and have her life planned out for her, all without her consent or input, leaving her feeling frustrated and powerless despite her rich lifestyle. A suicide attempt hasn’t done much to change her parents attitude towards her, only serving to further their control over her life.

So, when she learns of Ji-soo’s operation she immediately seeks to angle her way into it. First, she tries to rip him off, believing that he’s an evil “pimp” and thus deserves it. But after spending some time with him, she changes her mind last second and decides to help him out instead.

And, now, let’s get into their relationship, which is one of the best (if not the best) aspect in the entire series.

I need to be upfront about something: the relationship between Ji-soo and Gyu-ri is not exactly healthy. I wouldn’t describe it as toxic - the circumstances surrounding them aren’t exactly the best environment to encourage open and honest communication - but it’s definitely not what should be considered ideal, especially for young adults, and especially for young adults who are dabbling in crime instead of studying.

So, why do I love them so much? If you’ve read some of my previous posts, you know that I loathe toxic relationships in kdramas, so I understand if you think I’m coming off as hypocritical here. Why do I like Oh Ji-soo and Bae Gyu-ri when I didn’t like, for example from recent history, (oh boy, here I go again on my Nevertheless BS) Park Jae-eon and Yu Na-bi?

First, Ji-soo and Gyu-ri are way cooler than Jae-eon and Na-bi ever could be. They run a criminal enterprise that involves having a high amount of intelligence, cunning, and daring to do so. Do Jae-eon and Na-bi run a criminal enterprise as a side business? No, they don’t, because they’re boring art students.

Secondly, Ji-soo and Gyu-ri actually progress in their relationship and change their views as they learn from each other. Now, granted, that progress isn’t towards becoming better versions of each other - quite the opposite. But at least they have progress. Jae-eon and Na-bi stayed in the same stupid cycle for the whole series and then decided that it was better staying that way as opposed to trying for something else.

Last, but certainly not least, Ji-soo and Gyu-ri are actually interesting to watch for me. The chemistry between Park Ju Hyun and Kim Dong Hee is explosive and they way they spar, exchange looks, and just generally exist around each other on screen is something I can watch forever. I’ve said this before but Han So Hee and Song Kang’s on screen chemistry, outside of their intimate scenes, really didn’t impress me.

Okay, back to Extracurricular. This relationship, man. It’s all I can think about (other than HomeCha’s Du-sik and Hye-jin, but that’s another post). Ji-soo and Gyu-ri are so good together.

I’ve noted before that Ji-soo is methodical in how he approaches his life; he plans out everything ahead, and rigs any situation as much as he can in his favor. It’s brilliant, but when a crisis happens, he doesn’t know how to deal with it effectively. He panics and flounders; becomes indecisive at a time when clear, decisive action is required.

Enter Gyu-ri. She quickly becomes the partner he never knew he needed. When there’s a situation, she becomes invaluable in her quick thinking and wit, coming up with solutions on the fly. It’s not perfect, but it keeps them just one small step ahead of whatever is coming their way.

The only thing preventing them from becoming unstoppable is the lack of communication and trust they have with each other. A lot of that has to do with how Gyu-ri entered Ji-soo’s business - she blackmailed him first, and, when that failed, she strong armed her way into getting him to accept her help. It’s implied in the drama that Ji-soo has had a crush on Gyu-ri for a while (since ninth grade, I believe) and in the first episode he actually gets the chance to spend time with her outside of school on a sort of quasi-date.

It goes sideways pretty quickly because of some shenanigans from his business, but not before she gets to know him and says some pretty touching words regarding his situation. Poor guy is head over heels - even after finding out that she’s the one blackmailing him, his feelings are only dampened, not extinguished. When he catches a glimpse of her family’s situation, he gains a deeper understanding of her and why she acts the way she does. Even more importantly, Ji-soo treats her the same after finding out this information which, to someone like Gyu-ri, means more than if he comforted her about it.

If you want to see a physical representation of how he feels, other than paying attention to his actions, you can see it in him keeping mementos from Gyu-ri. She has an interesting habit of folding bags into origami shapes and giving it to him. Even after the blackmail reveal, you can see that he continues to keep these in a container on his desk. It’s really cute that he keeps these, when it probably doesn’t even matter that much to Gyu-ri.

Towards the end of the drama, Ji-soo prepares to turn himself in to prevent Gyu-ri from being implicated in the crimes they committed. And it costs him almost everything to protect her. Ji-soo, the quiet, nerdy kid, puts himself on the line time and time again to protect Gyu-ri, knowing that it puts his life and his dream at risk to do so. And all for what? For some girl that he thinks doesn’t even like him in return?

Well, let’s talk about that. Because I’ve seen some comments that Gyu-ri was only using Ji-soo for her own selfish gain. And I can agree that was how it was at the beginning for her; she definitely was only interested in acquiring money, like Ji-soo was, in order to achieve her own goal of being free from her parents.

But, oh man, that is not what is motivating her at the end.

It’s actually pointed out relatively early by some of her friends that it’s obvious that she likes Ji-soo more than he likes her. Understandably Ji-soo is keeping her at arms length from him given the whole recent blackmailing, so it would make sense that it looks that way.

Further questioning reveals what she likes the most about him:

“It’s not like I’m crazy about him. He’s fun. And amusing. He’s smart. And there’s a certain charm he has. He also has a wolfish side to him. But he thinks he’s a puppy.”

- Bae Gyu-ri

But, as she gets to know Ji-soo better, you can certainly see that she starts to fall hard for him. As a cover story for why they hang out so much together during and after school, Gyu-ri states to everyone that they’re dating. The reactions across the school definitely imply that this is a shocking development, which means that Gyu-ri hasn’t dated anyone before. So why Ji-soo other than the reasons she herself states?

He challenges her, just as she challenges him. Gyu-ri may be the more dynamic, quick thinking of the pair but Ji-soo is every inch her intellectual equal - just in different ways. She doesn’t seem to be the type to be easily impressed, but you can tell that she’s definitely impressed by Ji-soo’s operation and how thoroughly set up it is. When Ji-soo is frustrated at the beginning by his setbacks, he blows up at another student (knocks him out in a crazy punch) and immediately walks over to Gyu-ri afterwards (who saw the whole thing) to inform her that she is now his partner in crime.

The look in her eyes, and the small smirk she has speaks volumes about her attraction to him in that scene. Smoldering.

And, oh yes, she’s prone to jealousy. Another classmate, Min-hee, gives Ji-soo a present out of the blue (it was supposed to be for her boyfriend, Ki-tae, but that’s another sub-plot) - all within view of Gyu-ri. It’s hilarious how she tries to brush it off. Later, for plot reasons, Ji-soo has to spend more time with Min-hee which only furthers Gyu-ri’s annoyance.

And her motivations stop being entirely about the money and more towards helping preserve the dream that she and Ji-soo share about being free. There’s a scene in episode 8 where it’s revealed that, due to a business partnership with a local gang (set up by none other than Gyu-ri herself in a desperate move), Ji-soo would have to drop out of school permanently to work on their behalf. Gyu-ri overhears this and, despite badly needing the gang’s help in sustaining their own business, immediately terminates the partnership.

All because it would interfere with Ji-soo’s dream.

Man, if that isn’t love.

In the following episode, Gyu-ri, and later on Ji-soo, is kidnapped by the same gang in retaliation for terminating their partnership. Ji-soo comes to her rescue but Gyu-ri is already almost free (again, she’s really, really badass) and is demanding that they bring Ji-soo to her instead of running for her life.

Surviving this latest attempt puts the two in a reflective, vulnerable mood and Gyu-ri asks Ji-soo why he keeps saving her. Ji-soo asks later on why she keeps risking her life to be with him. They don’t say the answer in words but in an almost kiss (yeah, you read that right - almost).

And then, if you aren’t already convinced, Ji-soo crosses his one last remaining line in an effort to keep Gyu-ri safe; he accidentally pushes a fellow classmate down some steps and, instead of helping her, leaves her to die after grabbing the evidence she has on him and Gyu-ri.

Extracurricular pulls off quite the magic trick here, hiding this well done love story in the middle of a serious crime drama.

The real tragedy is that Ji-soo thinks that Gyu-ri views this whole business, and by extension his life, as one big game. It’s something that she takes offense at, visibly becoming upset when he says that.

But even if that were true, he should be assured since Gyu-ri doesn’t like to lose.

As they hurtle towards the end and face up to the consequences of their actions, Ji-soo and Gyu-ri undoubtedly lose sight of their original goals and dreams. They do some fairly horrible things to stay alive and ahead of the police who are close on their trail. You can’t really blame them for doing what they did; in the face of a society that has abandoned them, what they’re doing is a logical outcome to gain what they want so desperately and deserve so much: the chance to be free to live like normal, care-free people.

I can’t say for certain that they achieve that. The drama is serious in consequences and, at the end, the net around them is drawing tighter and tighter. I won’t spoil the ending scene for you, because I highly encourage you watch this drama yourself but I will say this: Ji-soo and Gyu-ri seem stuck in an impossible situation with nowhere to go, and no one to help them, with a clock ticking down towards either death or discovery by the police.

But, all the same, I’m always the optimist. They’ve gotten through situations like this before and they can certainly do so again. Maybe not as bad as this one, but not too far out of their league. And, like I mentioned before, Gyu-ri doesn’t like to lose. Especially when it comes to Ji-soo.

Their relationship is truly dangerous, as Ji-soo himself notes. Them being together is the source of their problems; they’re too much alike now, as opposed to the beginning of the drama where he stated that they’re too different. Their love is the kind of love where both of them are willing to burn the whole world down if it means keeping each other safe.

I’m a real sucker for those kind of love stories. No one’s a hero here. They’re just kids in high school, doing the best with what they know.

Who are we to judge what is right and wrong? Especially when the one committing the acts are high school kids who don’t know any better and just want to save each other?

Do we have that right?

Do they really deserve that punishment? Shouldn’t we be pointing fingers at the society that forced them to act this way?

Extracurricular really makes you think about that. Is it really so outlandish and terrible what Ji-soo and Gyu-ri do to survive when the adults who are supposed to be protecting them, teaching them better, have failed in their duty?

Maybe they really did win at the end. Not so much in succeeding in their goals but in gaining something that not even regular people are likely to find - a partner, a soulmate, someone who will stand by you no matter what.

If you do watch the ending, and are not an optimist like I am, then all I can say is this: whatever happened, they were together at the end.

They were together.

#extracurricular netflix #human class #netflix #kdrama #oh jisoo #bae gyuri #park joo hyun #park ju hyun #kim dong hee

59 notes · View notes

iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years

Text

Somebody to You

Request: Hi can I request a Cedric Diggory x Gryffindor reader where they’re actually the best of friends and she has liked him for years but she lost hope because it’s like he never sees her y’know? so when Cedric starts to pursue Cho, she decided that it’s time for her to move on but when Cedric saw her getting close to someone else he just got really jealous and possessive and confess that he actually like her too, he just doesn’t want to ruin their friendship if it doesn’t work out? thanks! - @elia-the-bibliophile

A/N: I had so much fun with this! I’m really liking writing for Cedric, but I think I need to work some kinks out with how I write his character. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy and I hope I have done your request justice! Title is from The Vamps - Somebody to You because I am a sucker for pop.

Warnings: unrequited love, crying, a bit of drama, but there is fluff

Word count: 4.6k

Cedric Diggory was like sunshine; warm and bright.

For years, he had been your best friend. Your families had always been close, being the nearest wizarding family to their home after the Weasley’s. You and Cedric had bonded from such a young age; making pinkie promises under the large oak tree in your back garden, promising how you would always remain friends. That nothing could tear you apart; not even being sorted into separate houses would keep the two of you away from each other.

The fates decided for you early on that you would fall in love with Cedric. You felt the cliché; falling in love with your best friend and knowing it was unrequited. Cedric simultaneously made your heart race and break. He was so impossibly wonderful and caring that a simple look from him had your heartbeat increasing something worrying. But in the same minute, the small voice in your head, reminding you that he didn’t truly see you, had your heart breaking all over again. In his presence, you felt like Icarus flying too close to the sun, to feel the warmth on your face, not realising all the while that the wax of your wings are melting and you’re about to fall, fall, fall.

For so long you had pined for your best friend. With each hug; each take of the hand and each kiss pressed to the side of your head, your heart filled with hope that he was feeling the same as you. You were hopelessly praying that one day he would look at you and for it fall into place. For him to take you into his arms and whisper promises of love and forever.

But it was nothing more than a dream.

You knew of his feelings for her; he wasn’t exactly subtle when it came to watching her from across the Great Hall or classroom. And you understood; you understood it all. How could you compare? Cho Chang was something else entirely; both her and Cedric would be the ultimate power couple for Hogwarts.

It would only be a matter of time before they’re hanging from each other’s arm as you would watch from the side line. Seemingly destined to always love him from a distance.

---------------

Cedric bounds up to you in the Hufflepuff common room on a Wednesday afternoon, calling your name and for your attention. Cedric always joked that you would rather be a Hufflepuff than a Gryffindor with all the time you spent in their common room.

“What is it?” You ask, looking up from your essay plan.

“I asked her, and she said yes!”

“You asked who? To where?”

“I asked Cho to the Yule Ball and she said yes.” Cedric grins at you, looking so happy at this news.

“That’s great, Cedric!” You crow, smiling at him, silently praying he wouldn’t see how your heart was crumbling inside your chest.

Your heart sinks at his news; some part of you hoped that he would ask you to the Ball. That he would take you and show you off to the whole school, but like a lot of things, it was only a dream. You keep the smile pasted on your face as he starts to babble about dress robes and coordinating outfits. Your heart urges you to confess; to confess every feeling you’ve ever had for him.

But he looks so happy. You couldn’t tell him now; you wouldn’t break that.

----------

Being in the same room as them was becoming painful. You could feel your heart crack in your chest as you watched Cedric open the Yule Ball with Cho, looking at her as if she were the only girl in the world for him. How could he not? She looked incredible; she looked like everything he could possibly want.

How your heart yearned for him to look at you that way. How it broke when you realise that he never will.

You gather your skirt in your hands, leaving the Great Hall. The scene too painful for you stay there any longer. It was masochism at this point; you were hurting yourself intentionally by staying there longer.

You pause at the stairs; sitting down to gather your breath but they soon turn to sobs. You grab at your chest with both hands as if you could physically stop the feeling of your heart cleaving itself in two.

The sound of footsteps has you wiping your eyes, but you recognise the sweet perfume of your friend Rose. She sits next to you, holding your hand tightly and directing your head onto her shoulder. She wasn’t bothered about this dance anyway; you needed her more than she needed to waltz with a boy that was going to try and kiss her later.

“Loving him shouldn’t have to hurt so much.” You cry into the shoulder of your friend, Rose.

“It shouldn’t.”

“I really thought…” You trail off, your mind finishing the sentence. I really thought something would happen.

“I know you did,” Rose murmurs, brushing the hair away from your face.

Rose is your anchor that night, letting you sob into her shoulder for another minute before helping you to your room. The sobs have you bent in two; you hold a hand to your mouth, trying to keep them in, to keep them silent but it doesn’t help.

Rose helps you out of your dress, handing you your comfiest pyjamas before helping you get into the bed. The tears are slower now, having exhausted yourself. Rose brushes your hair back with a gentle hand, lulling you to a light sleep. You know though, that you won’t be sleeping much tonight, the image of Cedric and Cho burned onto the back of your eyelids would surely haunt your dreams tonight.

-----------------------

Cedric notices your absence from the Yule Ball – of course he does. His mind had been on you since you descended the stairs in your mauve velvet dress, holding hands with Rose, sending his mind into overdrive and his heart racing.

Cho had to pull his attention back to her multiple times but soon gave up when she could see how occupied he was.

He hadn’t seen you leave; he didn’t know where you had gone. So he looks for Rose, knowing that you would be close by if he could find her. But he can’t and he starts to panic.

He spins Cho out before drawing her back into his arms; all the time wishing it was you he was holding close to his body. Cedric had wanted to ask you to the Yule Ball, but he couldn’t. In the end, he asked Cho. He had planted the seeds the week before he asked with longing gazes. She had said yes, but he couldn’t help but want it to be you who said yes to him.

Cedric was terrified. He was a current champion in the Triwizard Tournament – the most horrifying of challenges for witches and wizards alike but he was simply more petrified of confessing his feelings for you, to you.

He would rather face his dragon again, a thousand times over, than face your rejection.

He’s loved you all his life. He just didn’t know it until the end of Fourth Year when you smiled at him over the rim of your Butterbeer glass and something within him clicked into place.

He was just so scared of ruining your friendship. If he lost you as a friend because of his feelings, he doesn’t know what he would do. The fear of rejection and loss keeping his confession secret.

For now, you both teeter on the edge of a knife blade. Neither one willing to confess their feelings first, but their touches would linger, and their stares would last that little bit longer – eyes filled with the adoration and love they feel.

---------------------

Rose is on eggshells around you the morning after the Yule Ball; worried about what could possibly set you off again. Robotically, you get dressed and head to breakfast, plastering a serene smile on your face before you enter the Great Hall in case you into Cedric, or Cho, or worse, both of them.

You’re buttering a piece of toast when Rose asks, “How are you feeling?”

“Better. Thank you for being there last night.”

“I didn’t want to leave you; I’ve never seen you like that before.”

You point your buttery knife at her, “And you won’t ever again. Want to know why?”

Rose raises an eyebrow, “Why?”

“Because as of right now, I am going to get over Cedric Diggory.”

Rose’s eyes widen, “Really?”

You nod, biting into your toast, “Really. I have loved him for so long and it’s come to nothing. It’s time I move on.”

Cedric sits down next to you a moment later, reaching for the pumpkin juice, “Where did you go last night? I tried to look for you, but I couldn’t find you.”

You meet Rose’s eyes, “I didn’t feel too well so Rose brought me back to the common room.”

“You should’ve said something, I’d have taken you back.”

“Cedric, you’re a Triwizard Champion, they needed you there. I was fine without you, I had Rose.” You say, smiling at the girl as she nods affirming your story.

Cedric frowns, not happy with your answer. He places a hand on your forehead and then your cheek, checking your temperature. You melt into his touch before turning rigid. Reminded of your vow from only a moment ago, you pull away, chuckling, “You’re a mother hen, Ced, I swear. I’m fine, I feel a lot better now.”

You turn your attention back to your breakfast, picking at the food on your plate. The need to get over Cedric was now your most important aim. Your heart had been broken and smashed beyond recognition. It was now time to build it back up again.

-------------------------------

It’s hard at first; getting over Cedric because he makes it so difficult. It’s as if he dazzles you with the simplest of movements such as running a hand through his hair or grinning at you or turning a page in a book with a focused look on his face. Each action had you out of breath and your heart racing before you pulled yourself back and reminded your overly hormonal self what you were aiming to do.

Cedric notices your apprehension around him, asking you one morning, “Are you okay?”

You frown, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Cedric fixes you with a look, “You’re pulling away from me and I don’t know why.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, “I’m just going through some things right now, Ced, but I’m okay, I promise.”

“You’re sure?” Concern overtaking his features.

“I’m sure,” You say, taking his hand in yours, “Now, let’s get some breakfast, I’m starving.”

Cedric laughs, leading you to the Great Hall. He’s still worried though; he’s noticed your distance, not being as open with him. Not pulling him in for hugs as often. Your friendship mattered so much to him; it being over a decade old. He treasured your friendship and your presence in his life more than he treasures his place on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. Over the last week, he had felt you pull yourself far away from him, building a wall around you that he had no hope of tearing down.

Cedric’s heart falls as he begins to realise that he’s losing you.

----------

Michael Rhen approaches you at breakfast a week after the Yule Ball. A week after your promise to get over Cedric.

You’re sitting with Cedric as Michael joins you at the table, “Morning, (Y/N).”

“Hi Michael,” You greet, smiling. “How are you?”

“I’m good. I was hoping you could help me though.”

“I’ll try my very best.”

Michael smiles, “I’m having trouble with our History of Magic essay – the one about witch trials in Yorkshire and Lancashire. And I know that you’re the best at this subject, so I was wondering if you help me?”

You nod, “Of course. Do you want to meet in the library tomorrow evening after dinner?”

“That would be great, thank you.”

“It’s no problem, I’ll see you in the library tomorrow.”

“It’s a date.” Michael grins, getting up to leave.

You shake your head amused.

Cedric was not amused. He was not accustomed to the ugly emotion growing in his gut. Jealousy was rearing its ugly head and Cedric was having a hard time keeping a lid on it.

“I didn’t know you tutor now,” He says innocently.

“I don’t.” comes your reply.

Cedric frowns, “Then why?”

“Well, we have OWLs coming up even if you are exempt, Mr. Champion, so I’ll take all the extra studying I can get and also: why not? Michael’s nice, we get along just fine.”

“I don’t know… something seems off about him.”

“Oh, you’re just nit-picking now.” You say, hushing him. “It’s only an essay.”

But the both of you have the same thought: what if it could be more?

-------------------

The library was always quiet. Madame Pince controlling the volume with an iron fist.

You hurry to the back of the library where you know the relevant books are. You place your quill and ink on the table along with some parchment before wandering to the shelves. Your fingers run across the worn spines of the books; thinking of the thousands of students before having done the same action.

Footsteps behind you alert you to Michael’s presence. You turn to greet him with a smile on your face.

Michael smiles in return, taking a seat at the table, “Hey, (Y/N). Thank you for doing this.”

You pull a couple of books from the shelf before sitting across from him, “It’s no problem, Michael. Now what is it exactly that you need help on?”

Michael bites his lip, looking sheepish, “All of it? How much time do you have?”

You chuckle, “Until curfew. I hope you’re ready to take notes. This is a whistle stop tour.”

In no time at all, Michael had a good understanding of the differences between the different types of witchcraft practiced in Yorkshire and Lancashire as well as a decent understanding of rival families and why there is still tension in the counties today as a result of it.

Michael puts his quill down, flexing his fingers to free himself of the cramp, “Wow. You really know a lot on this subject.”

You shrug, “My family originally hail from Yorkshire. I made it my mission to know as much as I could about my ancestors.”

The grand clock above the entrance hall begins to chime signalling curfew and the end of your study session with Michael.

“That’s all we have time for, unfortunately. If you need any more help, I’m happy to help.”

“There is something you could help me with…” Michael starts.

“Oh?” You ask, pausing in stacking the books for the shelves.

“Would you like to come to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?” He says in one rushed breath.

You hesitate; your mind flashes to Cedric, thinking of all the Hogsmeade weekends you had spent with him, ambling from shop to shop and generally enjoying each other’s company.

Michael starts to look worried. But before he can say anything, you ask, “As a date?”

Michael looks away flustered, “I was hoping it would be, yes.”

You’re taken back again. Your mind flashing back to Cedric, your heart wishing it was him asking and not Michael. No, you chide yourself, he has Cho now… though you hadn’t seen him with her since the Yule Ball… NO. Michael was asking you out, he was genuinely interested in you. You think of your promise; he was handing you the opportunity to start getting over Cedric.

You smile at Michael, “I’d like that. I’ll meet you in the courtyard at nine?”

Michael’s answering grin is blinding. “That’s great. I’ll see you then.” He even goes so far to drop a kiss to your cheek before leaving the library with a whispered goodbye.

-------

The Hufflepuff common room is silent when you return from the library. The majority of students had retired to their beds, but the odd straggler remains in the common room. You recognise them all as classmates as they continue to revise for the upcoming exams. Curfew had come and gone but you couldn't finish your day without seeing Cedric.

Cedric is laid across one of the couches, an arm tucked underneath his head; eyes pouring over one of his books. You watch him fondly. His exemption from the exams made him able to catch up on the books you had given to him to read.

You tap his thigh, silently telling him to shift, “What are still doing up?”

He moves into a sitting position, shrugging, “I was waiting for you. I knew you’d come see me.”

Your heart softens at his whispered confession. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. Did Michael complete his essay?”

You smile, “He did, and he asked me out on a date.”

“He did what?” He asks, turning to you with wide eyes.

“Don’t look so shocked, Cedric. Just because you don’t find me attractive doesn’t mean that others don’t.” You say, hurt.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

You look down at your hands, fingers fiddling with themselves. Cedric sighs, placing a finger under your chin, lifting your face to look you in the eyes. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that,” he repeats.

“How did you mean it then?” You question, your eyes narrowing.

Cedric pulls away, his mouth a thin line, “I just didn’t think he would move that fast.”

“Well he did, and I said yes.”

An awkward silence falls between the two of you. Bodies angled to each other, but eyes focused on the fire as minds begin to wander.

You think of your feelings for the teenager sat next to you. These overwhelming, defining feelings that you hold for him and you wonder whether Michael would be the one to help you move on. Whether Michael could be the one to help you revert back to friendship with Cedric. You wanted to chuckle as your heart whispered how impossible that task would be. You glance at Cedric, curious as to whether he had any clue about how entirely he owned your heart.

You pat his knee, deciding you had thought enough for the night. You hope for a dreamless sleep, “I’m heading up for the night. I’ll see you at breakfast?”

Cedric smiles smally, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

You smile in return, walking away from him before his words could settle in your skin. The smile drops from your face as you walk back to the Gryffindor common room; your mind overthinking and your heart breaking that little bit more.

Cedric watches you walk away, no longer ignoring the deep ache in his chest. He was starting to lose you; the distance between the two of you increasing. As Cedric sits there, book open on his lap, watching the spot where he had last seen you, he promises himself that he would not lose you from his life.

-----------------

Cedric found it hard to leave you alone over the next week. Finding any and all excuses to sit next to you; to touch you. The jealousy he felt over your date with Michael had him interjecting into conversations and disturbing seating plans so he could be near you. He waited for you to pull away, for you to tell him off, but you never did. Hope bloomed in his stomach and in his chest at that.

Your heart basked in the attention; wanting nothing more than Cedric to wrap his arm around that little bit tighter and for him to distract you from another conversation. Your mind berated your heart for enjoying this too much; the small voice in the back of your mind reminded you constantly that you were supposed to be moving on from him and here he was putting a spanner in the plan.

------------

Bounding down the stairs to the common room, you pause in front of a mirror to check how your hair looks. Deciding it was good enough, you enter the Gryffindor common room surprised to find Cedric sat on the couch, staring away into nothing.

You tap him on the shoulder, “Are you okay? You look to be lost in your thoughts.”

He hums before answering, “I’m good. You look lovely by the way.”

You look down at your outfit, brushing out invisible creases; heart racing from his compliment. You internally scold yourself for reacting this way. “Thank you, Cedric.”

Cedric nods. His heart breaks as he sees how you’ve dressed up for Michael and how happy you look to be meeting him. He wishes he had told you earlier; confessed to you before the Yule Ball how much he adored you because if he had, he would be the one to be walking you to Hogsmeade, to be sharing a butterbeer, to be whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

Instead, he’s resigned himself to the fact that after today, he will have lost you forever.

He watches you check your watch, brushing your fingers through your hair one more time before going to meet Michael.

He decides to take the moment to plead, to beg you not to go. To stay with him; spend the day with him so he can gather the courage to tell you how he feels. How he has felt for years but didn’t know until last year and if you would give him the chance, he would spend the rest of his life earning your affection and showing you just how deep his love for you runs.

Cedric grabs your hand, making you turn to face him, “Don’t go,” he pleads.

“I have to, Cedric.” You pull your hand from his grip, rushing out of the common room to meet Michael in the courtyard.

--------------

The day with Michael had been pleasant. You had walked around Hogsmeade, entering the bookshop and Honeyduke’s to stock up on your stash of cauldron cakes. Michael, ever the gentlemen, had paid for your sweets with a smile and a wink at your protests.

The pit in your stomach was getting larger; you felt awful for not feeling anything more for Michael other than friendship. But your heart would not let you forget the brunette Hufflepuff you had left in the common room with a dejected look on his face.

The conversation with Cedric had played on your mind all day. His face as you left the common room, was printed onto the back of your eyelids. He had look so crestfallen, as if he had accepted some terrible fate. Your chest aches at the memory of it.

Michael takes your hand as he pulls you into The Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer or two. You head to a small table as he goes to the bar for your drinks.

“Thank you.” You say as Michael places a foaming glass in front of you. You immediately take a drink, relishing the sweet butterscotch taste. You wipe your mouth on a napkin before smiling at Michael. “Thank you for today, I’ve had a lot of fun.”

Michael grins, “I have as well. But I think I’ve had more fun than you.”

You run a finger around the rim of your glass, “Michael…” You start, but he cuts you off.

“It’s Cedric, isn’t it?”

You bite your lip, nodding.

“It’s okay, I suspected as much when I first asked you out. It was confirmed when I saw his reaction.”

“His reaction?”

“The possessiveness.”

You nod, remembering it, “I’m really sorry, I thought I could… can we be friends?”

Michael smiles at you, “We can be friends.”

You sigh in relief, “Thank you, Michael.”

“You know he’s jealous.” He states, sipping at his butterbeer.

“Who?”

“Who? Cedric.”

“No, he isn’t.”

“I’m telling you; he totally is.”

You think back to his possessiveness over the last week. He had never been like that; not once over the time you had known him. It only started when Michael had asked you to help with his essay and then asked you out.

Everything clicks into place; you drop your head into your hands with a groan. Michael laughs, “I told you so.”

Michael walks you back to the school and the Hufflepuff common room, making you promise to tell him what happens tomorrow. He squeezes your shoulder before walking away. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the conversation you’re about to have.

Cedric hadn’t moved from where you left him this morning. He remained sat on the leather couch, his eyes on the fire but his mind elsewhere. You throw yourself down beside him. Cedric leans back into the couch; your legs going over his.

Cedric’s fingers draw aimless patterns on your legs as he apologises, “I’m sorry about this morning. I was out of line.”

You nod, “Yes, you were. But I appreciate your apology.”

“Did you have a nice time?” Cedric asks, punishing himself for his actions this morning.

“It was interesting,” You start, “Or at least, Michael told me something interesting.”

“I’m all ears.”

“He told me you were jealous of him, but I denied it of course because if you had feelings for me in any sense you would have told me by now, right?”

Cedric is silent; seeming very focused on the seam of your jeans as he traces a fingertip up it. You repress a shiver at the feel.

“Right, Cedric?” You repeat.

“Michael was right.” Cedric whispers, looking down.

“He was?”

“No, he is. I’m jealous. I tried to fight it, but I couldn’t in the end.”

“Why didn’t you say anything, Ced?”

“I was worried that I would ruin our friendship. We’ve been friends for so long, I thought if I suddenly confessed how I felt, you wouldn’t believe me, and you’d reject me.”

You sigh, “This is a mess.”

Cedric frowns, “What is?”

“We’ve been dancing around each other and being miserable all because we were scared to ruin what we already have.”

“We?”

You fiddle with your fingers, eyes focused on the fire, “I’ve felt jealous too, and heartbroken. I promised myself I would get over you.”

Cedric swallows around the sudden lump in throat, “And have you?”

You sigh, shaking your head, “I don’t think I ever could. I was so destroyed watching you at the Yule Ball with Cho, and I completely understood why you asked as her. She’s gorgeous and comes from a prestigious family. The match works.”

“I asked Cho to the Yule Ball because I panicked. I thought if I asked you, you would see through to my feelings for you. She called things off after the first two dances, she realised that I was looking for you.”

“We’ve both messed up, haven’t we?”

Cedric nods, taking one of your hands in his. “I think we have.”

You point at him, “Alright, naked truth time, Cedric. Are you ready?”

He raises an eyebrow, “As I’ll ever be.”

“Do you like me?”

Cedric blushes, “I think I more than like you. I think I love you.”

“Oh… I didn’t expect that.” You answer, your body warming at his words.

“Your turn: what do you feel for me?”

“I think I love you too.”

“You do?”

You fiddle with your fingers, “Yeah, I don’t know the exact moment it happened. It was just one day that I realised that I was in love with you, but you didn’t see me for so long. All I wanted to be was somebody more to you.”

Cedric closes his eyes as if in pain, “I royally screwed up, I hurt your feelings so badly. Will you ever forgive me?”

You purse your lips. You hold your hand out for him to take, which he does, “On one condition.”

“And that is?”

“You take me on a date.”

He grins, “I can definitely do that. Can I do something before though?”

You raise an eyebrow, “And that is?”

Cedric suddenly becomes shy, “Can I kiss you?”

“I’d really like that.”

Cedric smiles before he leans in.

***************

General (HP) taglist: @the-hufflefluffwriter @obsessedwithrandomthings @kalimagik @summer-writes @lupins-sweater @slytherinprincess03 @mischiefsemimanaged @soleil-amaryllis @masterofthedarkness @bforbroadway @chaotic-fae-queen @peachesandpinks @nebulablakemurphy @haphazardhufflepuff @siriusly-addicted-to-writing @firewhisky-kisses @deafgirltingz @kylosleftbuttcheek @heloisedaphnebrightmore @harrypotter289 @sprvpti @accio-rogers @potterverseimagine @figlia--della--luna @angelinathebook @dreamer821

1K notes · View notes

girl4music · 3 years

Text

BUFFY REWATCH - S04E22 - Restless

Tara: “I think it’s strange. I mean, I think I should worry that we haven’t found her name.”

Willow: “Who, Miss Kitty?”

*shot of their kitten, playing with a ball of red yarn in slow-motion*

Tara: “You’d think she’d let us know her name by now.”

Willow: “She will.

*looking down at Tara*

She’s not all grown yet.”

Tara: “You’re not worried?”

Willow: “I never worry here. I’m safe here.”

Tara: “You don’t know everything about me.”

Willow: “Have you told me your real name?”

Tara: “Oh, you know that.

*Willow smiles, reaches for something. Shot of a paintbrush dipping into ink jars*

They will find out, you know. About you.”

Willow: “Don’t have time to think about that. You know I have all this homework to finish.”

*the camera pulls back so we can see Tara is lying face-down on her bed, naked, and Willow is painting on her back*

Tara: “Are you gonna finish in time for class?”

Willow: “I can be late.”

Tara: “But you’ve never taken drama before.

*shot of Willow dipping the paintbrush again, moving it across to Tara’s back, which is covered with Greek symbols*

Might miss something important.”

Willow: “I don’t wanna leave here.”

*Tara twists back to look at her*

Tara: “Why not?”

*Willow stands up, looking down at Tara. She turns away toward a dark red curtain. Walks over to it*

Willow: “It’s so bright.

*pulls back the curtain to reveal a brightly sunlit desert. The light falls on Tara, who looks over. Looking back at Tara, still holding the curtain open*

And there’s something out there.”

*shot of the desert, straggly plants, rocks. We briefly see something (someone?) moving, then it’s gone. Shot of the kitten stalking forward toward the camera, in slow-motion*

I have been so anxious to get to this episode and write my meta. For all the time I’ve brought up Willow’s insecurities, this is the one and only episode that lays them all bare for everybody to see, if - and this is important -, you are clever enough to decipher the code of visual symbolism and possess the ability of interpretation. Pretty much all of the episode ‘Restless’ requires you to interpret what you see. You’re not told straight-forwardly what the dreams, each of the core 4 Scooby members have, are about and that’s precisely what I love about it and why it is probably my most favourite episode of the whole show.

Now, obviously, I’m only going to be talking about Willow’s dream in the episode because if I were to do an analysis of every character’s dream, I’d be here all day and this recap would be incredibly long. I would suggest watching YouTuber Passion Of The Nerd’s analysis for it to get the whole picture. Much of what I will write here will draw from that as I agree with quite a lot of it and think it makes a lot of sense in understanding each character. Every character has fears, worries and insecurities, and that’s what these dreams are specifically about, but Willow’s go much deeper than can be witnessed in all of the show due to her “hiding” them under a “thinly-veiled” persona of who she wants to be. For the most part, you only get to see who she wants you to see. It is not until this episode that all of Willow’s real thoughts and feelings take center-stage - quite literally. There’s a reason why both her dreams in ‘Nightmares’ and ‘Restless’ have her performing on stage. The former, being more about stage fright and about wanting to go unnoticed. The latter, about acting like something she’s not and “putting on a show” of confidence and security to the other characters, who she fears knows about “the real her”, and the audience watching her. Now, “the real her” is as ambiguous as this entire dream sequence is - meaning: it depends on your point of view who Willow is. And this is why I clash with @confusedguytoo about Willow often regarding my views and opinions on Willow. They see something different to me. However, I’ll let them better explain that if they so wish to. I’ll only explain what I see - in Willow - and in this episode.

I relate Willow’s insecurities to her accumulation of power and need for control. For me, much of what I interpret in ‘Restless’ ties in and very much foreshadows Willow’s magic addiction and ‘Dark Willow’ storyline in Season 6 because, to me, Dark Willow is less about the Magicks and more about power and rage, (Anya interjects here: “and vengeance, don’t forget vengeance”). So I will go through the meaning of Willow’s dream in ‘Restless’ from the way I interpret it and in my own words:

Starting off, we have Willow sat on Tara’s bed with Tara (well, actually Tara is laying down on it and Willow is sat on it.) Tara is turned away from Willow as Willow paints some writing on her bare back (see Passion Of The Nerd’s analysis to know what is being written because it’s very significant to the scene.) This part of Willow’s dream has more to do with Tara than Willow, but it’s important to remember that it’s all from Willow’s perspective. Willow worries that there’s something about Tara that Tara isn’t telling her. Something she’s not “facing her” with and letting her know bothers her. But other than that - she has no worries. She feels safest with Tara and, as I’ve previously mentioned in another recap, is much more invested in the relationship they share than Tara is at this point in it. And the scales don’t actually equal in that because Willow becomes uncomfortably and unhealthily invested in that she starts to abuse Tara in such a way where she wants to make sure Tara pays the most attention to her. And magic has always been the best way for Willow to have “her will be done” well before Tara entered the picture of her life. And so, she knows it’s her bread and butter to getting her way.

Moving on, we now see Willow walking the halls of Sunnydale high school and Xander and Oz are in the dream. No Tara. Meaning this part of the dream is something passed in her life but still very present in her mind. Although this is of the past, the dialogue between all 3 characters is about Willow’s then-future. There is mention of Tara and of the drama class they will take in college. I interpret this to mean that Willow can’t entirely let go of what was to focus on what is or what will be. Hence why Oz is in the scene and why he says “Oh, I’ve been here forever” when Willow asks him if he’s ever took the drama course - at which point we see Willow trying to take something out of her locker but can’t seem to get it open. I interpret this to mean she’s locked out and cannot access that part of her life anymore despite still thinking about it, and specifically Oz, in it. You see, Oz may have followed Willow to college, but he never stayed. Their relationship was only one that existed in high school and Willow has regretfully moved on from Oz and entered a new relationship that exists in college and will last beyond that. She cannot access her high school life anymore. She cannot access Oz anymore. Thus, their love affair was tied to their high school life and Willow no longer goes there.

At this point we see Willow walk out of the frame, leaving Xander and Oz behind, to stand backstage of a production in their drama class - of which Willow has never even rehearsed for and hasn’t even had her first drama class yet. And the characters of Harmony, Riley and Buffy are dressed up in costume ready to perform the play and tell Willow that she’s late but she’s “already” dressed in “costume” and “already” in “character”. Giles then enters the scene as the stage director and his dialogue in rallying his actors to get ready to perform reveals that this play is all about Willow. In fact - she’s the main character in it (go figure) and everybody in the audience, including the cast, is there to watch her perform.

“Acting is not about behaving, it’s about hiding. The audience wants to find you, strip you naked, and eat you alive, so hide.” - Giles.

Next Willow goes behind the stage curtains (which are red to represent a vagina, apparently, according to Whedon in the commentary track for ‘Restless’) and finds Tara among them with her who tells her that things aren’t going very well. Willow says that drama class is not being done in the “proper” way, she doesn’t know what to do, and the play’s starting soon. Tara then tells her that the play’s already started and that’s not the point anyway. Willow doesn’t understand. As the play happens without Willow, Tara disappears, and what was following Willow attacks her.

Buffy saves her and we go back to Sunnydale high school. This time we’re in a classroom. It isn’t clear which class but it’s presumably English as Willow reads out a book report on ‘The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe’. Before she does that though, Buffy tells Willow that the play is long over and asks her why she’s still in “costume”. Willow responds that it’s not a costume, she’s just in her outfit of the day. Buffy tells her that everybody already knows about her and to take her “costume” off, to which Willow panics and refuses. Buffy rips her “costume” off of her to reveal her wearing the clothes she was wearing on the very first episode of the show. Now, Willow stands in front of a full classroom of her peers (both from high school, college, and the Scooby Gang) mocking her for her appearance and her reaction to being totally exposed to what she believes everybody perceives of her as the truth of who she really is. Still a shy loser. The dream sequence ends with what was following Willow and attacked her throughout; the first Slayer sucking out her soul and leaving the real Willow paralyzed in her sleeping state. Unable to escape from her personal Hell.

So what does it all mean? Well, it really all depends on the way you interpret her dream. Some things about Willow and what she thinks and feels are clear, some are not. But how I’ve interpreted her dream in ‘Restless’ is that Willow, despite appearing a much more confident, secure and assertive person, doesn’t have any belief in herself when it comes to her value and requirement of her from her peers, friends and lovers… Or everyone that’s not her. Her need for validation in who she is and what she can do from everyone. Her worthiness in her work. Her ability and capacity to love. Her appearance to whoever perceives her. Especially the ones she loves. And her insecurities run so deep in this that even she doesn’t recognize them. She’s not aware to how much she’s acting like someone she’s not in order to please, in order to have attention, in order to feel of use to people. Now, it is not that she is still the loser. She’s definetly evolved into a much more worldly and well-rounded person since her high school days. Stronger, smarter, wiser, and more confident. It’s just she doesn’t believe in it and she absolutely fears no one else does either. In her mind she’s still the lonely nerd and she’s doing the most to make sure people don’t see that. Even though she has the belief that they do and always will. So her need for power and control all stems from these deep unconscious insecurities. Magic just happens to be the most effective tool for her to accumulate this. And she only becomes addicted to it in Season 6 because she relies on it to make her special. Even though she’s special as she is - with or without magic - to which Tara does her damnedest to make her aware of and believe. And she’s about the only person in the show that achieves it - until, of course, her death… Which, of course, triggers Dark Willow.

Willow's need for power and control as Dark Willow is channelled through rage and pain and so no amount of it is enough. Willow isn’t enough without Tara. None of these fears, worries and insecurities are the truth of Willow. But getting her to believe in and trust in that is next to impossible. Tara is only capable of it because she’s the one thing in the show that Willow truly loves. Is truly committed to. Is truly invested in. And she feels like she means and is nothing without her, without her love, without her attention, without her validation, without her light. She abuses her the most because she’s the one person in all of the show that she covets the most. That she doesn’t want to be without, that she feels the safest and is the happiest with. That she won’t let leave her life. Yes, it’s unhealthy. But true love can be when there’s so much inner turmoil. When there’s such a storm inside threatening to be unleashed with every bad day. Every screw up. Every "spaz" feeling. That's what it stems from. A loser mentality.

That is Willow’s entire predicament throughout the whole show and why her character representation, development and evolution is the greatest, the most profound, the most detailed, the most poignant. This is a character that you absolutely fall in love with very early on. To see them go from that gentle-natured, quirky, inspiring and endearing person to one of the most abusive, frustrating, corruptive and destructive people is hard. Fortunately, they’re given the endgame they deserve and become the hero. They learn to balance both sides to who they are - the dark and the light - and they become exactly who they want to be. Someone of great power and control. Someone that is valued and loved. Someone that matters. Whether she believes it or not is up to you. 😉

youtube

60 notes · View notes

incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 3 years

Note

Comte’s One More Wedding Event (full release)that should have just came out in Japanese Version. Could you translate it or summarize it, please? Thank you for your time.

I can't believe you want to give me this kind of power, but if you insist 😂💛

That being said, because my translation skills are rough at best, I'll be summarizing and selecting specific parts to discuss if I feel a need to quote directly.

If you don't want spoilers for Comte ES, run!

Y'all. Y'ALL. REEEEEEEEE I LOVE HIM. NOBODY LOOK AT ME I'VE BEEN CRYING ON AND OFF FOR DAYS

ANYWAY

So this particular event begins with MC bringing Comte a letter as he thanks her. One glance at the return address tells him that it's a pureblood gathering invitation, and upon opening it he's right. He shrugs it off and says he'll reply to it later, setting it aside.

MC, perceptive as ever, asks if he's declining the invitation. Comte explains the nature of the party and how only purebloods are allowed to end. Furthermore, the gathering takes place on their first wedding anniversary--and he would much prefer to spend the day with her.

Comte: “MC, any gorgeous evening party–no matter how beautiful–means nothing to me without my wife at my side. The place I belong is with you.”

MC: “Er…”

His gold eyes are steady and unwavering as he looks at me, and my heart skips a beat.

Comte: “Anywho I have no intention of attending this party, as it also overlaps with the date of our anniversary. Our first wedding anniversary is an important day, and I want to spend it with my beloved wife.”

Comte smiles winningly, all while staring straight at me.

MC, however, finds herself conflicted. Given how little she knows about purebloods, she wishes she could attend the party to better understand him and the community he's a part of. She admits this, to Comte's great surprise, but feels bad about it because she doesn't mean to ask something impossible of him. (One of the requirements of the party is that you have to be a pureblood vampire to be invited. ON WEDNESDAYS WE WEAR PINK) Comte clarifies that--because she's his wife--she's welcome to attend alongside him. He offers to take her with him if that's what she wants.

MC: “Are you really sure it’s okay for me to go, though?”

Comte: “Certainly. But I would never force you if you were uncomfortable, of course.”

MC: “No, I don’t hate the idea!”

Comte: “But I’d understand if being surrounded by purebloods would be rather nerve-wracking for you…And so many of them have a superiority complex a mile wide; they’re a prideful bunch. While it may not be all of us, there are enough that it might be stifling for you to be around them.”

Comte: “In light of all that, are you certain you still wish to go?”

[I know he’s just doing his best to prepare me for what I might face at a party like this--he doesn’t want me going in with the wrong idea. It’s very likely he had intended to decline the invitation to spare me the discomfort, and the burden of making a choice that would affect/limit him too. The concern in his features makes me melt.]

The part I love most about this scene is that this is just the beginning of so many attempts on his part to prepare her realistically, but also support her decision. As much as he wants to go with her he's never going to put her in the position of deciding for the both of them. He knows there's a great deal of pressure to face among such a forbidding/traditional society, and if she needs more time to prepare for that--he wants to give her the space to get used to something so unfamiliar. In truth, I don't see him ever asking her to go if she didn't want to--even if it stung to have that part of him rejected...

MC considers for a moment, but she's resolved to understand him and his people better. She explains as much, and Comte brightens at the confession.

MC: “I’m sorry if it’s a bit much to ask of you, but thank you…!”

Comte: “I should be the one thanking you, now I look forward to the gathering.”

MC: “You’re…looking forward to it?”

When I tilt my head quizzically, le Comte draws me close with a faint smile on his lips.

Comte: “I’m excited to introduce you as my wife.” (SCREAMS AND CRIES)

This gets INSANELY cute because he gathers her close to him and she just gets very bashful about it. She apologizes--saying she knows she should be more used to it given they've already been married a year now, but his response is so sweet: “Why apologize? I’ve always thought my wife is the cutest.”

They both think back to their wedding ceremony at the mention of how long they've been together, and MC's eyes find the flower pins she gifted him on top of his hourglass (which fking one he has like 300).

Some background for anyone unaware: when Comte and MC got married, MC gifted him these flower pins--they were flowers that were preserved (in metal I think? idk exactly how it works they just look metallic in his outfit art). She explains that they're an attempt to symbolize her love for him, in that she intends to remain unchanging in her feelings forever. I find it's also an apt metaphor for MC herself; it's not unlike her agreement to become a vampire to stay with him.

MC: “You’ve been taking good care of the flowers I gave you.”

Right next to the hourglass lie the preserved flowers I gave him. They gleam in the light with ease, clearly polished and looked after–not a speck of dust on them.

Comte: “With those you swore your love to me. Isn’t it only natural that I’d take good care of them?” (LISTEN COMTE YOU AND I BOTH KNOW THE REALITY OF THE MALE SPECIES QUIT PLAYIN)

After that scene there's a timeskip to the night of the party--and after everyone celebrates their anniversary in the mansion all day--they hop in a carriage. MC is a little lost in thought, preparing herself for what's to come. When he asks if she's nervous she fully admits to it, but with a caveat. She's nervous because she doesn't know what to expect and she's concerned about committing a social faux pas, but she's not afraid or anxious.

Before I came to this time I had absolutely no concept of what an elaborate dinner party looked like–and besides which, this time it’s going to be a room full of purebloods. I’m nervous, sure, because I’ve never done this before--but it’s not quite anxiety or fear.

MC: “As long as you’re beside me, I’m invincible–anytime, anywhere.”

I can navigate anything: unfamiliar social circles, even an entirely new era of time. Because Comte is always so steady and reliable, always there for me, my anxiety ebbs and I can shine–be the very best I can be.

Comte: “MC…”

Comte looks absolutely moved by what I have to say, directing a gentle, tender look at me.

Comte reiterates his previous warning, that they might be weirdos and/or rude because they're stuck in their ways. He knows their discriminatory nature is wrong, but he believes in her ability to overcome those things--and fully intends to support her. He also lets her know what to expect in terms of the schedule: mostly mingling, and dancing is reserved for the very end of the party only.

Gatsby hour begins and MC marvels at the enormous venue sparsely populated by people dressed to the nines (I can only imagine how Comte dressed her up for this event in light of that LMFAO). Comte tells her he's going to get some drinks, and MC agrees to wait for him. In a classic lowkey queen move, she retreats against a nearby wall to take in her surroundings. She feels a certain intensity to be surrounded by people who look so young and beautiful, and yet carry the experience of lifetimes within them. She also notes the slightest permeating scent of blood in the air, assuming most of the people in attendance are drinking Rouge in their wine glasses.

When Comte returns to her, he offers her a glass of red wine, and she takes it with a smile.

MEAN GIRLS TIME!!!!!

So these two ladies approach le Comte yelling about how long it's been since they've seen him, and about the rumors that he got married. Without missing a beat he confirms it's true, and introduces MC to them as his wife. MC offers a greeting and a curtsy, but the women openly spurn her because she's not a vampire lmao. ("Who put you on the planet" energy, essentially). I still can't tell if they were acting like insane mother-in-laws on Comte's behalf, or out of jealousy--or weirdly both.

All casual dismissal, the women sashay away from us, dresses swishing.

[It seems like I really won’t be accepted as Comte’s life partner so long as I remain human…]

Comte: “…I’m sorry. I’m afraid that is the usual attitude of pureblood vampires. Not all of us are like that, but they still made you feel uncomfortable ;;;;”

MC: “That’s not something to apologize for. I’m happy to attend such a lovely party as your wife.”

I don’t want to ruin the occasion for him, so I beam at him.

Comte: “MC…” His lips descend close to my ear, pressing the lightest kiss against it.

Comte: “Thank you, MC…I’m happy, too.”

While Comte is full of uwus and love for his wife, she notes he stops there--likely because it's a public venue. (And I'd wager respectability politics, given a lot of old school people tend to say horrible things at the slightest sign of PDA lol. It would give them all the more reason to be nasty to MC.) MC notes that no matter how small the gesture or how often he extends his affection, it always sets her heart racing (what a damn mood) and they both gear up to greet everyone else. They're both like ganbatte!!! at each other and it's really cute, haha.

[No matter how many times he does things like this, I’m always caught off guard. I imagine we’ll be this way forever…]

Comte: “Here we go, the party’s only just begun. Let’s get to it and enjoy ourselves. No need to hesitate, it’s our wedding anniversary after all–this is a time for you to smile.”

MC: “Haha, thank you very much! Then I’ll definitely enjoy it to the fullest!”

We continue to greet and chat with other purebloods, the night goes on while I sample some of their food–

At some point MC separates from Comte to use the restroom. When she exits to rejoin the crowd, she hears the voices of those two women that openly rejected her earlier. They basically talk about how Comte and MC will never last or have a meaningful relationship, and that Comte is wasting his time not breeding more master race pureblood babies for the community's future. (Not remotely surprised Leonardo does not like them at this juncture lmao)

While MC was well aware she'd face some level of disdain, she admits that it still hurts to hear--and doesn't want Comte to see her upset. So she walks out to a nearby balcony to look at the stars and cool off before returning to his side.

Comte: “MC.”

MC: “Eh…? Comte, when did you get here?”

Comte: “You hadn’t returned for a while, so I went looking for you.”

MC: “Ah, I’m sorry to worry you. The stars were so lovely I couldn’t help but linger a bit to enjoy the sight of them.”

When I try to hide my gloomy feelings, he stares at me.

Comte: “You seem upset all of a sudden. Did something happen? Did someone…say something to you, by any chance?”

MC: “Ah, I can’t hide from you it seems. I guess I am a little upset.”

Comte: “…”

Comte: “MC, do you regret marrying me?”

MC: “!”

MC: “That’s not the case at all. No matter what finds us in the future, I’ll never regret having married you. I’m glad I met you, Abel–that will never change…”

When I tell him my heartfelt feelings, he gently wraps his arms around me.

Comte: “…Me too, MC.” The voice that murmurs at my ear is filled with such ardor that my heart melts.

Comte: “It might have been too much to ask of you to come here. But no matter how difficult the truth may be, it’s an undeniable fact that I’m a pureblood.”

Comte: “I was so happy that you wanted to know more about me–to know me better–that I was spoiled by your words. And yet, as a result of that indulgence, I hurt you…”

MC: “…No. That’s not it. Abel, I’m not familiar with vampires. But this last year, I was with a pureblood who’s kinder than anyone else I know.”

I have no innate fear or dislike of purebloods–because the person I love more than anyone else in the world is a pureblood vampire.

MC: “That’s why I’m not afraid, or dreading any of this.” It might seem outlandish, but his presence was like magic; it was enough to give me the strength to have courage and find kindness for the people around me.

MC: “No matter who stands in my way in the future, I will do my best to be recognized as your partner someday. Didn't I tell you before? I'm invincible anytime, anywhere, as long as you're there with me!”

Upon hearing her resolve to stay with him, he feels the need to renew his vow to her too--telling her that he'll always love her as well, and that his feelings have only grown since then. One important bit to note in his confession is that he fully admits he had a hard time coming to term with what he was, he's only a little more accepting of being a pureblood because her existence redefines what an eternity means to him. He explains that, while no end of time used to be an upsetting and hollow concept to him, the fact that his long life will be spent cultivating his love for her gives him the strength to face his reality.

They kiss and MC acknowledges that life--no matter how long--always has its ups and downs. Sometimes there will be rough times, like when those Mean Girls women were actively nasty and unfair to her. And sometimes there will be joyous times, like how Comte just repeated his vow to her so sweetly. But more than anything, it's important to live in the present moment as fully as possible, and she deepens her kiss with Comte accordingly.

After what I assume to be an excellent make out, they return to the venue and rejoin the group of vampires. Now then, because it's Comte and Comte refuses to take any shit he reveals his ace in the hand. Premeditated and all cunning expectation, the show begins:

After reaffirming our feelings for the other, we return to the hall. When we wandered around to greet people today, there were also vampires who were kind to me. For those that remain perturbed by my presence, they continue to sneer at me as though I were an eyesore.

[I don’t care. Comte’s by my side…]

Comte: “…That’s right, MC. There was one thing I forgot to mention.”

MC: “Huh?”

Comte: “A short while ago, you said something about doing your best to earn their approval. I wouldn’t even worry about it, you’re perfect just as you are. Everyone here just doesn’t have the slightest inkling as to your charms yet. For those with the ability to see, feel free to show them as many times as you like.”

MC: “Comte…”

At that very moment, a waltz begins to flow into the hall.

Comte: “Oh, is it time to dance already? MC, shall we?” (Oh Is It TiMe To DaNcE aLrEaDy, damn clown)

MC: “Yes.”

In time with the melody, we begin to waltz together. When I'd first arrived to this era, the steps and the dance itself were unfamiliar to me. Now when I dance with Comte it’s nearly effortless–natural as breathing.

[Comte has taken me to so many evening parties at this point. Thanks to his impeccable leading any uncertainty in my step is elegantly disguised.]

Comte: “MC.”

As we danced, he called my name--crooned it softly.

Comte: “…Have you noticed? Everyone is watching us.”

At the sound of this new information, I look around.

[Oh, it’s true–everyone really is looking at us…]

And it’s not like before, tinged with displeasure and contempt. It’s like they can’t look away from us now, dazzled and intrigued.

MC: “Makes sense–you’ve always been a very graceful dancer, Comte, it’s impossible not to find it captivating.”

Comte: “No. Without you as my partner, I can’t enjoy it nearly as much as I do now.”

He grins as he says so, the sentiment reflected in his buoyant step. Beautiful, noble…and above all, lively. Even though I’m always by his side, I remain endlessly captivated by that smile and movement.

Comte: “We are more in tune with each other than every other pair here, don’t you think?”

MC: “Haha, that’s right!”

I think le Comte is lovely no matter who he’s dancing with, but I’m sure I’m the one who gets along with him best–I think so, because his golden eyes reflect no one else but me.

[No matter what anyone says…I won’t give up this position to anyone else.]

When the song is over, and the dance is finished, the hall is filled with the raucous sound of applause and cheering. All these people are looking at us and their eyes are shining.

[I wonder…if maybe our feelings for each other were transmitted more clearly after that dance? The mere thought of it makes me feel ticklish and delighted.]

After their lovely display, the Mean Girls ladies approach MC to apologize as everybody is leaving for the night. MC accepts their apologies and says she wants to find a way to get along with them moving forward, though they're still pretty reluctant (probably only apologized to save face).

Differences in lifestyle and family tradition...I think there are many reasons why they can’t accept me. I don’t think it’s easy to understand the breadth of the gap between us; I’m sure I’ll need more time to be able to bridge those differences.

[I don’t know the way of life or struggle of the pureblood people yet. But…I want to understand.]

Even if we are endlessly different, I don’t want to give up on finding some sort of compromise. Next to me, le Comte smiles silently. For the foreseeable future--as long as it may take--I want to prove that I can make this person happy.

I deadass can't stop laughing at the fact of Comte standing next to MC all :)))))) (y'all he is emitting BOSS M U S I C)

After that, Comte and MC also head into their carriage and head home:

Comte: “MC, thank you.”

Le Comte remarks on the way home in the carriage.

MC: “…? I haven’t done anything worth thanks.”

Comte: “For today, for coming with me. And--up until now and from now on--for being by my side. I wanted to thank you again.”

He leans over from where he sits next to me and entwines our fingers together.

MC: “…Abel?”

Comte: “…Today is not just the day of the party, but our wedding anniversary too, right? From here on out, it’s time for only us two to be together.”

This is essentially where the premium story ends, and then it moves into the epilogue. I'll give some tidbits from the epilogue, just because it was so endlessly gratifying. Other than them having the smash of the century, it's mostly Comte going overstimulation feral service top. But there are so many really romantic moments during the shameless fking ;-;

The more he kisses me, the more my need for him spirals out of control. As if to entice him I twist my tongue with his deeper and deeper.

Comte: “MC…”

He exhales my name on a single heated syllable, and I can tell by the way he’s looking at me precisely what it is he wants.

Comte: “MC, what do you want to do…? I want to make you happy tonight. Do you want me to be kind? Or take you with reckless abandon?”

MC: “Abel…please do as you like. That’s what would make me happiest. :>”

Comte: “…I see. So you want to be made a mess of, is what you mean.”

MC: “Mn, aah–”

When his hands trace my sides seductively, my sensitive body reacts on it’s own.

Comte: “…You’re really cute, MC. Tonight, I’ll remind you the joy of being mine again.”

---

Comte: “Always so sensitive. Just the slightest touch, and you cry out with such a sweet voice…”

MC: “Well, it is your fault…”

[Because if Abel touches me like that…He spoils me and leaves me in an endless sea of pleasure, building up to that crest–fading–and building up again…because he loves me so dearly.]

Comte: “My fault, is it?…I like the sound of that.”

With a bewitching smile, he makes short work of his tie and button down. Even the most casual gestures like this are done with such grace that it becomes sensual. I’m drawn to the sight of him revealing more and more of his skin, thinking he’s far too much of a tease.

Comte: “…If you look at me with such desirous, greedy eyes, I’m going to lose control myself, MC.”

----

MC: “I…all I do is take from you…” I’m embarrassed because I’m so inexperienced that all I do is drown in the pleasure he gives me.

Comte: “…If you really think so, then you’re too unaware.”

MC: “Mn–ah, hah…”

Comte: “I’m the one who can’t stop wanting you…MC.”

When he leans over to murmur in my ear, his voice is suffused with desire–breathing shallow. From the gap between his lips, I can see the fangs which have never broken my skin…

MC: “Abel…do you want to bite me?”

If the answer is yes, then I’d be delighted. A vampire’s hunger for blood is often tied to romantic feeling. If he wants to suck my blood, then that’s all the more evidence that he loves me.

Comte: “That’s right. I want to sink my fangs into your soft skin…To taste your blood, to know your body and soul--I want to make every part of you mine.”

MC: “Mn…”

He drops a kiss to my throat, tickled by his tongue as he licks there–as if to taste me.

Comte: “But…”

Only I am reflected in his eyes.

Comte: “The only thing I want more than biting you is to take good care of you. I don’t want to impulsively take anything from you.”

MC: “Abel…”

....

Comte: “Someday…I will make you into a vampire. But, right now, I want you to stay exactly as you are.”

The heat of him coupled by that serious look...my heart is swept away.

Comte: “So…can you bear with my hesitation for just a little while longer?”

MC: “Yes…forever. I’ll always be yours.” I replied, wrapping my arms around his back. He squinted, as if he were staring at something dazzling.

Comte: “I’m always hesitating, but…MC. I will absolutely never let you go. I swear my love to you forever, my dear wife.”

----

The last part of the epilogue is confusing because I'm not sure if it's intended to be an actual dream or Comte just messing with her, but here goes:

[Morning already…?]

At the sensation of sunlight, I open my eyes.

MC: “Eh!?”

Comte: “Are you up, MC? The defenseless face you make when you’re asleep is adorable, but when you open your eyes and look at me that’s also lovely.”

He was lying in bed, unlike last night, wearing the same outfit he had on for our wedding.

[Ah, I’m most likely dreaming.] When I realize it, I get a ticklish feeling in my chest and can’t help the smile that finds my face.

MC: “Haha…”

Comte: “MC? What’s wrong?”

MC: “No, I was just thinking you really will always be by my side. I’m glad to see you in my dreams like this…I’m happy.”

Comte: “…Haha, that’s right. I’m happy too. But…it’s not always a dream right?”

MC: “Er…”

His voice easily makes my heart flutter, like sweet sake.

Comte: “Would you like to see if it’s a dream? …Once again, with your body.”

My heart thunders under his sultry gaze, covetous gold eyes beckoning me closer. (COME HITHER FUCK)

MC: “Yes, Abel. As many times as you like…take me.”

I know dream-like, impossibly happy days will continue as long as I stay by his side–

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There is so much going on here that I don't even know how to encompass all my feelings other than to say MARRIED COUPLE G O A L S. AAAAAAAAA I LOVE HIM SO MUCH HE'S SUCH A DOTING HUSBAND!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PUT A RING ON ME S I R

I really love the endless reciprocity coming from MC, lmao. She very openly wants to respond to his efforts, wants to make him happy too, is just as desirous in their coupling. I also love how much personality and spunk she has??? I was fucking d y i n g when she was like:

MC: "Aren't the stars so nice." Comte: "Adorable that you'd try to out-fake the king faker. What really happened." MC: "Damn it."

It's been a long time since I've gotten this much serotonin from a story m a nnnnnn

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp comte #ikevamp saint germain #ikevamp jpn spoilers #can't believe mc defeated pureblood regina george #what a time to be alive folks #god this event is going to give me cavities #im so fucking softe #the way he just loves and supports her in such a steadfast and lowkey way #though i will admit it was a little hilarious watching this event because i was so like 'lmao is that the best you got'#i grew up with rich suburban white girls what do i care im too busy eating shrimp #GOD and the fangy part #swear to god every single time he gets fangy i just ascend #fingers crossed his fifth bday event will be him turning her IM BEGGING CRYBIRD #thanks for this request!!! hope this all makes sense #always welcome <3 #at this point i have to wonder if there is a different writer for some of comte's stories bc yeesh #h e l p comte is too powerful...#rambles #not incorrect quotes #yall when he asks if mc regrets marrying him i swear to god my heart just stopped in my chest #BABY NO?????? MY GOD?????? YOU ARE LITERALLY MY DREAM HUSBAND?????? STOP???????

132 notes · View notes

marshmallowprotection · 3 years

Text

Birthday Title Screen

Saeran’s title screen underneath the cut alongside my thoughts and feelings on the matter. Under the cut simply because if you don’t want to see it, you can go and wait until it’s officially released by Cheritz in your time zone. Anyways, we know why we’re here.

It’s that time again and boy, aren’t we happy to be able to talk about it? Now, this title was advertised as Unknown so I expected Unknown. I didn’t expect my boy Suit Saeran to be on the title. The game tends to imply that Unknown is the just Suit Saeran, and vice versa, but I don’t agree with that notion but I’ve explained that one many times before but the game never confirms outright one way or the other so, you know how that goes.

I’ll spare you that, I’ve got plenty of posts talking about that opinion for you to find if you want, lol.

Either way, this is the first time that Suit Saeran’s gotten the pointed limelight like this. He’s usually meant to surprise the player because they may not see him in their minds as their trying to uncover the mystery and everything. But, we’ve got to say, Cheritz has thrown all spoiler fears out of the window. I mean, they just plastered Seven’s true name on a boat.

I laughed about that but I digress, you’re here for the photo and you want to see me shriek like a banshee.

So, yeah, let’s just our obligatory scream out of the way presently. When I saw this one, I could think was: Oh my God, it’s BE2. The only reason my brain just decided BE2 was because of the framing of all the presents. In that ending, he gives you gifts, he gives you food, but “you’re not good enough to open them or touch them, toy.” He’ll give you all kinds of things but you know, you get what he wants when he decides.

And crumbs, if you’re lucky on a good day, you know?

That being said, it doesn’t have to be framed as BE2, but the presents and gifts just lead me to believe that this is the theme or the idea that it’s taking from to show the audience because what else am I going to be thinking when you’ve gone and thrust that idea into my face like that? Mmm, and I’ve been talking about that ending a lot lately.

Here’s that post if you want to read more about BE2. It’s a tragic ending that is bad for both Saeran and MC. He’s trying to get you back like Humpty Dumpty but he can’t put you back together again. He realized too little, too late, that he liked you the way that Ray did, that he genuinely liked you for you. He can’t say that aloud, so he... tries cruel ways to bring you back, but it will never work and he’s doomed to despair.

No hope for Suit Saeran if the kindness heart can be destroyed in hell. It means it’s only natural that he lose everything.

I appreciate that he’s sticking to his goth theme, though, that party hat is just red and black.

Suit Saeran’s very... minimalist in the sense that he just picks things that are truly intense and sharp. That’s why he wears a suit. That’s because it’s the thing that he knows that can radiate power. Business men are supposed to be strong and forthcoming with their ability, that’s why he leans that way.

His father is like that, the idea of what power and monster is feeds into how he chooses to dress himself.

That’s why he just says, “Suit time.” If anyone was curious about that, anyway, I never seen people talk about that. Ray was given his clothes by Rika, he never got a say in how he dressed. The boys always pick something dark because it’s going to match their mood... their mood is how they pick colors and clothes if given the ability.

That’s why GE Saeran is bright and cottagecore. It reflects the positive shift in his thoughts and perspective on the world. But, with Suit Saeran, he’s trying to emulate what he’s scared of and what he thinks that power is and this is the only way he knows how and it hurts to think about when you frame it that way, I do know that.

Is that meant to be a stamp and playbook? Did Suit Saeran really make a whole illustrated guide for his puppet show? Is he really making acts and stories for all of this? He had to make those puppets himself. We know that Saeran is creative and can make anything, but those things are clearly handmade, hand-painted, I have a strong feeling that he made those clothes himself, too...

You know, I like to imagine him drawing his emojis before he comes to you because he wants to make a good impression, but he’s a very specific artist and he gets angry when he can’t get things right, so I’m really thinking about him being out here in his workroom, painting fine details with a determined look in his eyes like—

“This’ll show that toy. This’ll show them how powerful I am.”

Suit Saeran, honey, this is a gift within itself, you are a dork and I love you so much, oh my God.

TLDR; Suit Saeran makes puppets and makes their own playbook like this is going to a musical or the opera.

He actually brought you the exact outfit. This means that he either made you that outfit, or he got himself, and then he made a smaller version.

I like to think he’s crafty with sewing so I pretend he does things like this, but honestly, if you’ve made it this far, are you also thinking about the fact that he made a doll versions of the both of you to show you something?

Because I can’t stop thinking about that. He really said, “Look at this, I made us, toy!” Like, I wrote a whole imagine once where MC and GE Saeran made each other plush dolls of the other person to sleep with. He just went out here and made puppets simply because he wanted to put on a show. He made y’all and I’m gonna cry what a fucking dork.

This is canon.

My God, I’m canon.

Once again, I’m out here living my best life and nobody’s going to stop me on that front. Saeran wants to impress you and astound you so badly that he does not even realize that the handmade things that he’s making actually would be something that flatter someone.

Like, he could use those to patronize me and berate me for control, but—

I’d really be sitting there compliment his fine eye and craftsmanship. It’s just that great.

“Wow, Saeran. You did this all by yourself? These details are so realistic and finely tuned. This must have taken you hours... no, days, it must have taken you days to paint everything and stitch all of this together, even the little fine details are perfect. You’re amazing! When did you have the time to learn all of this?”

He would scoff, “Of course, I am, you blubbering toy! Don’t suck up to me and think that you’re going to be treated nicely. I won’t tell you anything about me. You don’t deserve that. I didn’t do this to impress you, I did this to show you what I want from you. Now, be a good little toy, sit there, and do as I ask. I won’t repeat myself.”

I find it interesting that he framed himself in the Savior’s seat here. Is that just a tie back to BE3, or is it simply his power play? I think it’s a comment on the fact that he struggles to know how much power that he truly has in his hands. That is to say, he says he’s the strongest, but the reality is, Rika is stronger then him and he bows his head to her.

Even in his fantasy, she holds all of the cards and he has no choice but to bend.

But, with MC, he is trying to use them to control his idea of power... because it’s a fragile thing. It could break at any second. He screams and shouts all that he wants but he knows, deep down, he may be strong, but he’s not the strongest in this place. How could he be? That’s why Rika even says to you during those late hours—

“Mmm, you noticed? He’s using you to stabilize himself because otherwise, he would crumble. Thanks for your sacrifice to helping me win my goals. It wasn’t a pleasure knowing someone as bright as you, getting in my way and trying to turn them against me.”

He only feels strong when something placates the idea in his chest. It hurts, even in his numb and confused heart, he’s hurting and he can’t figure out a way to get out of the dark labyrinth. Did he make the Mint Eye playhouse? Did he? I am saying he did. None of you are going to stop me. Saeran is a creative artist and I will not be contained any longer.

Cheritz confirmed.

You’re a doll on a string in this for him. He wants to say that he bends and controls you to his whims, but... he’s also there. This isn’t just you being a toy, it’s Saeran realizing that he’s a toy, too. Why else would he make a doll of his person, then? This is about him not entirely getting it, though. He would make himself but not realize what he’s implying to know deep down, underneath all of his yelling.

When I saw him in the chair, I thought... this is him in relation to being the marionette king. That’s why they’re doing this, oh my God. It makes sense to frame the MC as a puppet or toy, they’re always “his eyes” and “his toy” and more and more and more. But, he’s also being played for a toy by Rika to get what she wants.

Who is really the puppet here?

Who is really on the strings?

Look at that cocky bastard. Look at him. Look at him forever and deal with me screaming about him, oh my God. In conclusion, I’m having a lot of feelings at the moment presently and I think I’m going to go and lay back down because I am going to need a minute to unpack everything that I’m feeling and dealing with because Suit Saeran.

SUIT SAERAN!

#mod kait #character analysis #mm #mysme #mystic messenger #mysticmessenger #suit saeran #saeran #saeran choi #choi saeran #mm saeran #mysme saeran #mystic messenger saeran #saeran mysme #saeran mm #saeran mystic messenger #long post #spoiler

93 notes · View notes

wesimpforxiao · 3 years

Text

Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 6.4

"What did you mean when you said they didn't escape?" You had noticed Xiao's eyes never left the bird when he spoke to you, and finally realized the stupid piece of scrap metal was more than a knocking device. When it had hopped to the other end of the hall you decided to take a shot and ask Xiao again.

"I meant exactly what I said," his eyes finally met yours.

"W-What? But--" Movement near his legs attracted your attention and you saw that he was drawing letters on the tile's surface with the pad of his finger. You watched him intently.

"All is not as it seems."

"Hm?" Your brain hurt just trying to decipher it's meaning. He gave you a final warning look before facing straight ahead again.

"Food." A Fatui agent slid your tray beneath the door. He glanced at the yaksha, but walked away without saying anything else.

You dragged the tray over so that it sat in front of the two of you. "Would you like to eat something?"

"You know I can't stomach human food." He pushed the tray over to you. It was then that he noticed just how hollow your cheeks were, and the way your collarbones stuck out from your chest. "Eat."

"I'll pass." You watched his eyes narrow at you.

"Eat." This time he shifted so he was facing you head-on. "There's no point in starving yourself here."

"They can't achieve their agenda if I'm dead."

"They already have your blood samples. They won't care if you die as long as they have me. So eat."

"But you could just break out of here if I die!" You had only meant the words as a half-joke, but your vision was obscured by tears. "I-if I die on my own accord, you won't have to worry about hurting me. That's why you haven't done it, right? That's why you haven't broken the seal, because you don't want another person's blood on your hands?"

Xiao observed you carefully before releasing a sigh. His eyes cast downward and landed on his gloves, overturning his hands as he envisioned them coated in the blood of his comrades and enemies alike. "Do you truly no longer care for your own life?"

"I'd rather die at my own hands than let them kill me."

"What about returning to Qingce Village? Or seeing the Lantern Rite?" He raised his gaze to you again. "You were looking forward to that as far as I remember."

"It's like Childe said," you mumbled. "There's no future even if we both escape."

"Childe?" His eyes narrowed and his voice was tinged with anger. "Don't believe the things he's told you. He's--"

"Why? He's right about this," you choked out. "Even if we get out, they'll always chase after us...we can't hide forever, and..." I'll always be chasing after the love of an adeptus.

"There's no need to fear such things." Xiao eyed you carefully before scooting closer to you so that your knees were touching his. He gingerly placed a hand at the nape of your neck and pulled you close. His thumb gently rubbed against your skin.

"Heh," a small chuckle left your lips and caught the adeptus off guard.

"What?"

"It's just...You did this before." A warm smile crossed your lips, and Xiao frowned slightly at the myriad expressions you kept making. He couldn't keep up with your feelings; you switched between them so fast.

You're still this strange after all this torment? He was about to make the comment when you grabbed the hand that sat atop your neck and brought it forward. Your gaze dropped as you enveloped his hand with the two of yours, stroking the plate that encased the top of his glove.

Sooner or later, I'm going to die and it'll probably be in this cursed cell. But...I can't say I'm ungrateful for the moments I've known Xiao or for his rescuing of me when I was a child. It's a privilege to know him...but he will forget about me sooner or later, just as Childe said. But even still, I can't help but...

Your touch was so...gentle. Soft, even. Xiao short-circuited and froze as he contemplated the gesture. What was its meaning? No one had ever done this with him before. It was weird. Too weird. "Your body requires nutrition to function. So eat it." Xiao abruptly pulled his hand out of your grasp and handed you the tray of food.

When all you did was stare at the tray with a conflicted expression, the yaksha sighed in annoyance and grabbed the spoon. He scooped up some of the rice and held it out to you. Your blushing reaction wasn't what he expected. "T-this is too embarrassing!" You covered your face with your hands and shook your head.

"If you won't eat, I'll force you to."

"EH?!" You peeked out from behind your fingers and saw that he was completely serious on doing what he said. "F-fine." You took the spoon from his hand and hesitantly brought it to your mouth, mindful that he was intent on watching you until you finished the plate.

........................................................

"Xiao!" You sprung up into a sitting position and gasped for a breath of air.

"It's been some time since I've seen you awaken from a nightmare." Xiao scooted a little closer to you and noticed there were tears brimming your eyes.

"I thought I--" Your cheeks suddenly dampened from the onslaught of tears. Your throat clenched up as you recalled the horrific dream.

"You're alive and here."

"No," you shook your head. "I-I thought..." Your exhausted body gently slid back onto the floor as your eyes fought hard to remain open. "I thought you..."

I thought I lost you, your tired inner voice reached his ears. Xiao watched you slide your hand toward him as you fell back asleep, almost as if keeping it near him somehow gave you comfort. Your eyelids finally closed, and he continued to stare at your outstretched bony hand that rested atop the tile floor. He's here, thank the archons he's right here, your unconscious thoughts continued to flow into him. ...right...here...

Xiao wasn't sure how much time passed as he continued to watch you sleep. His eyes always returned to your hand, following its outlines and grooves, from the tips of your fingers to your wrist. She's been holding back on praying to me this entire week, yet she holds fear of losing a yaksha? Xiao furrowed his brows as he contemplated your thoughts. Why is a human so worried about my wellbeing? Her and Aether both. He shook his head in an effort to rid his mind of what was probably some sort of human compassion for you. Humans are difficult to comprehend, he dismissed.

Your eyes opened slightly to look at him, and he noticed. You weren't awake, but your eyes glowed nevertheless as his inner turmoil somehow found its way into the depths of your mind. 'Perhaps you face and accept what is in your heart...and you will understand the meaning of my words.' Zhongli's advice was brought to the forefront of Xiao's mind as he watched your eyelids close again.

I hate this, the yaksha grumbled to himself. A small sigh left his lips, and his gaze fell to your outstretched hand once more. He had a feeling that this past week would have a lasting effect on you, and you probably wouldn't be the same person after the two of you escape this hell. Something inside you was slowly breaking; he felt the despair and desperation in your daily prayers to him. It reminded him of himself so many centuries ago.

'You best be sure to share them before they fall on the ears of an early grave.' The yaksha rolled his eyes as he remembered another one of Zhongli's lines. But...he's not wrong. His agreement with the archon's words was already a big enough struggle; he couldn't imagine actually acknowledging and accepting his own feelings. He continued to watch you, his expression hardening as he fell deeper into his thoughts. Human minds are fragile. She could break and come out stronger; she could break and become like me, or...she'll shatter completely. My feelings may not reach her if the latter happens.

After thinking this and continuing the internal struggle for a bit longer, he finally placed his hand beside yours, fingertips barely touching fingertips.

..........................................

Xiao glared at the handcuffs that restrained him when he caught sight of the exact same seal that prevented him from breaking out of his cell. The harbingers must've done a lot of research in order to obtain him. He was forced to walk behind you after being blindfolded.

Unlike him, you were allowed to see where you were walking. Apparently Dottore had thought of you more as a pest than a serious threat. Not that you were offended, though; you were a pest without a vision. Fighting was useless, and your only chance of escape was crushed in the damned Tsaritsa's hands. Now that Xiao was here, it was your priority to get him to escape while he could.

'Out there, you will not survive.' Childe's words ringed in your ears much like a mosquito.

Speaking of which, here was the man himself, in the middle of Dottore's arena and accompanied by another harbinger you had seen in the Tsaritsa's throne room several days ago. He was much shorter than Childe, more around your and Xiao's height. He wore a strange outfit too, with the likes of an umbrella for a hat and shorts of all things in a literal winter wonderland. You had the guts to stifle a laugh, and he glared harshly at you.

"You're walking just fine after being injected so much," Dottore held a strange grin and nodded to himself. "Just as the Tsaritsa thought; healing abilities would be drastically increased along with the lifespan of the human in question. Interesting. Now then!" He clapped his hands and signaled for the guards to halt your and Xiao's movements. They finally removed the cloth from around his eyes.

"This here is the sixth harbinger, Scaramouche," greeted Childe. Even he seemed to find amusement in his co-worker's height, a rare glint of joy in his eyes that quickly darkened when Scaramouche caught onto the glee in his voice.

"He will be in charge of testing your fighting capabilities," Dottore answered your confused expression with a thin smile.

"Fighting capabilities?" The guard unclasped the cuffs around your wrists. "I don't--"

"Another lie!" Dottore rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Childe reported you fight much like this yaksha, correct?" The harbinger nodded in confirmation. "Now I sincerely doubt an amateur such as yourself would be able to wield a lance so proficiently when all you were learning to wield was a sword." He nodded to Scaramouche.

"I'll break her in," he spoke almost to himself, and tossed you a metal staff that hung from a rack of weapons to the left of the arena.

The guards escorted Xiao to the right of the room, and Childe joined him. He leaned down slightly and placed a firm grip on the yaksha's shoulder. "My orders are to kill you if you try anything."

I sincerely doubt you could, Xiao thought to himself as he watched you catch the staff. Your worried inward voice reached his ears, and he met your gaze without nodding. This is...wrong, he watched Scaramouche assume a fighting stance.

"Fight me," the harbinger ordered.

Xiao? Your eyes met the yaksha's, and much to your dismay, his expression was unreadable. You didn't want to fight anyone if it were for the sake of this sickening research. Your stare fell to the metal in your hands as you absently stroked it.

"Are you deaf, or just stupid?" The harbinger spat out. "Follow my orders."

You dared to look up at the harbinger and in an act of defiance, struck one end of the metal polearm onto the tile floor. The ringing accentuated your now-glowing eyes. "No."

"'No?'" A light scoff escaped his curled lips.

Childe's grip on Xiao's shoulder tightened immensely. "She's made quite the mistake this time," he whistled. Even the guards tightened their hold on the yaksha in preparation for what's to come.

"No," you repeated in a firm tone. Your irises shone brighter. "I don't want to."

"You don't want to?" Something snapped in the harbinger, and he threw himself at you with a catalyst in his hand. A bolt of electricity hit the staff as you attempted to block his advance, and it instantly jarred your bones.

"Urk!" Your back collided into the back wall of the arena. Your body fell to its knees, your limbs violently twitching from his attack. Xiao was also struggling a bit, but he breathed through the pain. After all, he could handle more pain than your mortal body ever could. "Hah.." You started to get up even though your legs shook like jelly.

"I didn't say you could get up!" Scaramouche landed a hard kick to your stomach, and your head hit the wall again. When you caught a glimpse of his face, it terrified you. His eyes were pure malice, pure insanity. They were cruel, and much more than Childe's ever were. The disregard for human life was on par with Dottore's. Scaramouche yanked you to your feet by the collar of your shirt and slammed you into the wall again with a hand at your throat. "When I give you an order, you follow it. Now do what you're told."

He backed off of you and let you pick the staff up again. You wiped the blood away from the corner of your mouth and snuck a gaze at Xiao, remembering that he was feeling the exact pain you were. Do I fight him? Your eyes wavered with conflict as you glanced back and forth between the harbinger and the yaksha.

This feels wrong, Xiao's conflicted thoughts plagued his decision of answering your question with a nod or shake of the head. I can't ask her to fight like this, but I can't ask that she avoid it either. Both conclude with us battered and beaten--wait. His brows furrowed at you. Is she...trying to protect me? Again? A yaksha, who's known nothing but pain and death and can come out unscathed? She's prioritizing me over her mortal self?

Your gaze had long since removed itself from the yaksha, and you eyed the harbinger carefully while you twirled the polearm in your hands. This man intentionally chose a pure metal object as my weapon so he could just electrocute me whenever he wanted. Your shoulders shrunk back at this as you realized the true intents behind this 'exercise.' One, to torture. Two, to see if they can make you snap and prove their theories right.

You sure as hell weren't going to let them push you around if it was going to hurt Xiao.

................................

Coming up: Attempted escape. A couple more Xiao x reader moments ;)

#xiao x reader #genshin impact xiao #xiao genshin impact #xiao fanfiction #genshin x reader #xiao

197 notes · View notes