#note: before the Apple Incident these two were just friends

[starswirly]

Changing seasons :] (Nightmare -> Jokublog)

[damagdsnow]

Fix my reputation

Pairing: young Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader

Summary: You and Coryo are together for mutual benefits, he needs a well known woman by his side to look reliable and loving during the presidential elections and you need your reputation to be fixed after your unforgivable scandal. 

Tags: slow burn, enemies to lovers, fake dating, arranged marriage, manipulative/soft Snow, strong and independent reader (as she should), fluff, angst, power play. eventual: smut, fingering, thigh riding, switching sub/dom, degradation, denied orgasm, piv, dirty talk, overstimulation, oral (fem/male receiving), praising public sex

Chapter 1, chapter 2;

aesthetic chapter one, aesthetic chapter two;

Tw: Snow being Snow, mention of alcohol, panic/anxiety attack, eventual: mention of blood

Word count: 6.7k

Note: English is not my first language so if you see mistakes please feel free to correct me in the comments! It is also my very first time posting here on tumblr, I’ve always wanted to post my writing and finally I am now brave enough to do so, enjoy!

You hated that man. 

If there was something you were sure about, it was that you didn’t want to be here with him, at the same table having lunch. You could feel his perking blue eyes staring into your soul even though he was not looking at you, he was meticulously cutting an apple with his long fingers and a shiny knife.

How did you get here? The man you so wholeheartedly hated, was now part of your life, and you couldn’t do anything about it. You felt like that apple he was cutting so carefully, peeling your skin, your essence, the way he was holding it seemed he was scared it could run away. You could run away. 

The problem was, you would never run away. Run away to whom? To your mother who disclaimed you? To those friends who didn’t help you out? You had no choice. Now the only thing you had was your reputation ruined for a fatal mistake that could have been avoided. That was not enough, the only way to clean your image was to be with Snow. The charismatic, intelligent and kind Coriolanus Snow. Or this was what people said about him. What The Capitol said about him.

You didn’t think the same. You knew who he really was, you saw what they couldn't see. He was evil, he was the one who got the games so popular with his ideas, the one who didn’t mind sending children to death.

You and Coriolanus had only one thing in common. Maybe two or three. One of them was that you both needed each other’s influence in society for different interests. His strategy to win the elections included a woman by his side to make him look reliable and sensitive, but he mostly planned on taking advantage of your popularity to make his own name. You, on the other hand, just needed someone who could clean your reputation after a little incident.

Who better than the master manipulator Coriolanus Snow? You weren’t thrilled with the idea of spending time with him. But it was going to be just for once. The gala before the official beginning of presidential elections, the most awaited event in the Capitol.

The agreement was playing the part of two lovers who not by chance people already knew, his name was well known. Yours? Still on the news. It was just a ball, you could do a night of pretending. 

 “Tigris said you haven't tried your dress on yet,” his voice interrupted your thoughts, and you looked in his direction to see his expression. 

He still had the apple in his hands and he was cutting it in half-moon shapes, he took one bite in his mouth and he directly stared at you while chewing. You tried to hide your disgust as Snow's eyes met yours, his smile sending chills down your spine. It was as you had imagined, or even worse, you felt his blue eyes dissecting you in pieces, like he was examining you, looking for your deepest secrets. You knew that staying calm and composed in his presence was crucial. 

“I don’t want to, it fits me.” You didn’t even look at that dress, it was even sent to your house but you refused to open the box knowing that he chose it.

“I hope it will,” Coriolanus didn’t take his eyes off of yours. “At least try to read how you should answer the questions, many people will be there,” he then said while standing up from his chair. His tall frame loomed over you, and you couldn't help but shiver under his intense gaze. 

“Are you giving me homework to do now?” you said, looking up at him.

“I’m simply providing you with some advice,” his voice tinged with subtle amusement. “Oh, you think it’s going to be simple after all you did? “The Capitol won’t forgive you easily,” then he walked away, leaving you alone in the dining room. 

This day felt longer than ever. The morning before you had received a letter from Snow’s manor telling you that someone was going to pick you up to prepare you for the event. It was signed by his publicist, Iris. You met her a couple of times before: a well dressed woman who knew too much about anyone's business in the Capitol. It was her idea to have lunch with him, “just to get to know each other more,” she said, but for you it was just a reminder of his real personality. They even gave you a room for the day, two chambers away from his, quoting Iris’s letter “this way you can feel comfortable,” you thought she was too attentive and kind to work for someone like Snow.

Iris was the one convincing you to take part in this gala, she explained to you that someone cherished like Coriolanus would draw the attention away from the scandal. You two just had to pretend to be together, “the Capitol loves unexpected new couples,” the publisher said to you the first time you saw her, “the young aspiring president and the woman everybody talks about.” Iris was convinced that this way Coriolanus was seen as the devoted partner who wasn’t afraid of your bad reputation, and you as the woman ready to rise from the ashes. 

You ran into your room and slammed the door so loud you hoped he could hear you. You found a big envelope on your bedsheets, and you hoped it was some sort of -hey remember the incident? It’s not your fault, everything it’s okay!-thing, but unfortunately, it was not a free pass to the world. It was a sheet listing all possible answers to some questions you might be asked today at the gala. It was like a script to follow to save your face, to look good in front of the cameras, in front of the-very-judging-elitè. In that sheet, you could find any imaginable question they could ask, where your dress was from or who your family were. 

“Did you do that on purpose?” It was one of the questions, and you thought this was something Snow would ask you. He didn’t say a thing about what you did, in the few times you talked he never asked you directly about the scandal. He could have wanted explanations, the real version of the story from you, but he never said a word. You read the answers on the sheet, and they were all perfectly written, so meticulously explained using the Capitol-vocabulary, elegant words and a candid tone. 

“How did you meet Mr. Snow?” Your heart skipped a beat, you didn’t consider being asked about your fake relationship with him, it was all new to you.

 “…it was love at first sight, who couldn’t love an extraordinary man like him, I immediately fell in love.” You had to read the full answer twice to be certain you weren’t hallucinating. 

You would never have said those words, never in a billion years, not even under torture, of course you were ready to lie, but lying to this level? It was too much. You knew it was him who wrote this answer, you imagined the grin on his face while typing those words about him. You were mad. The answers about your dating life with Coriolanus were filled with romantic moments and exaggerated gestures that made you feel uncomfortable reading their unrealistic nature. You tried imagining those things happening in real life, but it felt completely alien and artificial. It was difficult to believe that anyone could genuinely experience those events. With Coriolanus mostly. You read the pages, over and over, a book would have been better because there was too much to read, but instead, you were stuck with a bunch of printed documents detailing your supposed love story. 

He also put dates on when things happened: your first date in the lake house in July, the time you had dinner in a fancy restaurant in August and the day you moved in his place. Lies. Lies. Lies. Apparently you officially started dating three months ago. Three? You scrolled over the pages, hoping not to read what you were thinking. 

“…after the incident, Coryo was very supportive, always there to comfort and reassure me even though all I did. I felt like I betrayed him too, but he always said we could get through it together, and I found myself falling for him all over again.” You knew none of this ever happened, and yet here it was, staring back at you in black and white. It was as if the words were playing tricks, as if the words were there to pretend instead of simply put on paper.

You sighed and closed the file, feeling a mix of frustration, confusion, and irritation. He was never there for you. Nobody was. You were all alone. After that day, you cried every night, and you were the one reassuring yourself, lying in front of the mirror saying ‘it’s going to be okay’ while your sense of guilt was slowly eating your guts. He wanted to appear like the perfect partner, but you knew the truth. It was all a façade. Deep down, you knew the real him, and it took all your strength to acknowledge the reality. You threw the stack of files on the floor, it was all too much. 

You got up from the bed, and you went directly to his room, determined to confront him about the distorted reality that had been painted in those files. You didn’t even knock on his door, and you felt surprised when you noticed it wasn’t locked. You open the door, and you close it from behind, entering the room. He was standing close to his bed, completely oblivious to your presence. It was like he expected you to burst into his room out of nowhere.

“You finally read the file,” he said, looking at his wrist without making eye contact. 

He was focusing on buttoning his cuff links, his fingers fumbling with the buttons, his white shirt still open and his blonde hair wet from the shower. His normally confident demeanor was replaced with vulnerability as he waited for your response, the tension thick in the air. It was the very first time you saw him not perfectly dressed up, without styled hair and shiny shoes. The sight of him standing there, so different from his usual self, caught you off guard.

“Yes, I’ve read your fabricated tale,” you said, trying not to look at him, at the droplets of water sliding down his temple, his fingers still struggling with the shirt. “You should have become a fiction book writer, you got talent.” 

"I just wanted to impress you," he admitted, finally looking up to meet your gaze. “I can see I got a reaction from you,” he definitely succeeded in catching your attention, with those iper-articulated lies, not even close to what really happened.

“The agreement was that I won't say anything bad about you, just be by your side as a trophy-fake-girlfriend in this stupid gala, inventing absurd stories won't win my reputation back," you said firmly, crossing your arms. 

He reached his desk where there was a glass of some alcohol sloshing around, poured himself a drink and took a long, deep swig. “They won't believe you if you only stand by me like a mannequin, you have to be an active member of their social life, so they can get to know you, sympathize you and maybe forgive you,” he said in a calm tone, you could see his profile while he was again drinking from his glass, his shirt still open that showed his toned body.

You immediately looked away taking a deep breath. “I won't be a part of any false narrative you wrote,” was the only thing that came to your mind. 

He scoffed his head, “Just for the period of the presidential campaign, nothing more.” 

“Are you suggesting that this ridiculous act is going to take longer than just a day?” 

“I know you don’t like me, you just need to pretend you do. I’ll do the same,” he took another sip of that liquor while looking at you, “the publicist said just one appearance at the gala isn’t going to be beneficial to either of us.”

“Why are you telling me this now? The plan was slightly different,” you said

“Oh I knew you were going to be reluctant about the idea of pretending to live here, just for show,” he was serious, his fierce eyes looking at you waiting for a reply.

“I almost tolerated your presence at work, and now you want me to live in the same house as yours?” You asked 

“After the gala, they are going to focus on the ‘new couple’, our performance has to be something they really believe in,” he leaned his head at the same height as yours, “we already don’t have that chemistry, at least they are going to think we live together,” Coriolanus said to your ear, his curls brushing your cheek. 

“I simply decline your proposal, find someone else.” You said with a fake smile.

“Didn’t journalists harass you every time you left your little apartment? How exhausting, isn’t it?” He whispered in a sarcastic tone, making you remember all those times you ran away from photographers. “I got peacekeepers here, no one is going to bother you anymore, as long as you don’t bother me,” he turned to the desk, placing the empty glass in a tray, “strangers in real life, lovers on the outside.” 

“The problem is that I despise you, I cannot do this for one more day,” you couldn’t see his expression,  just his white see-through shirt displaying his back muscles.

“No, the problem is that you don’t understand how fucked up your situation is,” he was now facing you, “I know people who were condemned for way less, you are lucky,” his words were sharp as blades.

“Lucky to have you? It’s a punishment,” you said and he laughed. 

“Then don’t come at me crying at why people still hate you,” he took a few steps closer to you

 “So you can comfort me like you did a month ago?” You asked him pointing out the most absurd lie in that file.

“Oh, so you read every single page, you really did your homework.”

You stood your ground, refusing to be manipulated any longer. He was doing that purposely, just to provoke you, saying those things just to see how far you could take. Coriolanus was looking at you with his piercing gaze, attempting to intimidate you, he expected you to buckle down and crumble in front of him, but you would never give him such satisfaction, you were already in hell, so why not play with fire? 

“Why me?” you asked him, and you saw a sense of surprise in his eyes. “Why, of all the girls in Panem, you decide the only one who can give you trouble?” You took a step closer to his figure, “there are so many good girls from rich families and intact reputations, why me? I’ll just ruin you.” You said, trying to catch his eyes looking back at you. But you could only see his frowning eyebrows, his wet messy hair and a droplet of water trailing down his neck, you were so close to him, you could hear him breathing.

“Everybody knows your name, bad press is still press,” his eyes finally met yours. “You are the center of attention,” he took a step back, as if momentarily distancing himself from the tension. “The presidential elections are extremely competitive, it’s not a race for who’s superior to whom,” he licked his lips, “but who is going to perform better for these people looking for distractions. “We are going to be their little show”

“So tell me Coriolanus,” you stepped closer as you were before. The height difference was such that it made you look up at him, you took one side of his shirt in your hand and you buttoned up with the other, feeling his warm torso on your fingers. "How exactly do you propose to fix my reputation while bolstering your own?” you finished, a sly smile dancing on your lips and your eyes looking for him. 

Coriolanus was looking down at your fingers still brushing his skin, he had his lips parted and he softly whispered, “just play the game,” his eyes still fixed on you. He was talking about making everything right again, but it felt like there was something more behind those words. 

You stepped back, trying to compose yourself. “I’m just giving them another reason to hate me with this bunch of lies,” you were looking down at the floor when you heard him stepping closer to you. You didn’t look at him, but you could feel his eyes on your face. 

He lifted your chin with two fingers and made you look up at him, “I’ll make them fall for our lie,” he said, his voice was so deep and calm.

 “You are a master manipulator,” you whispered back, looking down again as if the floor was more interesting than the man standing in front of you. 

You heard him chuckle, and he leaned closer to your ear, “and I’m going to teach you how to be one too.”

Your first public appearance after the scandal was going to be at this gala. Everything was calculated in detail, the dress you wore had to be long and white, as pure as snow. Your hair had to be loose so it could cover your exposed back, and apparently you had to memorize pages and pages of answers you could give. After your intense conversation in his room you decided to play the game seeing how far you could take, how far you would do to take everything back. He wanted you under his spell, he was trying to shape you how he desired, for his own interests. 

“Dear, why aren’t you dressed yet?” The publicist said to you while you were sitting on the smooth sheets of your bed. You had your bathrobe still on, it’s been thirty minutes since you had a shower but you had your head in the clouds. 

You couldn’t stop thinking about your conversation with Coriolanus, his wet hair, the words he said to you, his naked torso, his manipulating eyes. You repeat to yourself that he was Coriolanus Snow, and not any man, he probably told you half the strategy he really had in mind. Being with him was like playing chess blindfolded, you had to trust him but he could mess up your moves, change your plans.

“Come here I’ll help you,” Iris said, she seemed like a good person, she had a comforting smile and an elegant manner with everything she did. She was wearing a short coppery-brown color dress, it was shiny as her nails, decorated with tiny gold stones. You took her hand and you stood up, making the bathrobe fall on the carpet. The silk of the dress soothed your skin like a petal, you looked at the mirror and the weak light coming from your window gently reflected on your bright dress, almost making it shine. 

“It is really pretty,” you said astonished while turning to see your exposed back. Then your smile disappeared because you remembered it was him who picked the dress. 

 “You are making it pretty, my darling,” Iris stated as she fastened the zip on your side. It was a simple dress yet delicate and impressive, it embraced the shape of your body effortlessly. 

“It is just a little loose here on your waist,” the woman said, touching the excess fabric on your side. You remembered the conversation early this morning when you proudly said the dress fitted you.

“I’m going to tell Tigris to fix it,” Iris said and you immediately looked at her reflection in the mirror.

“No please,” she changed her expression, “it is bad luck to mend a dress the same day it is worn,” your mother always said that to you, maybe it was not a popular saying considering the publicist's face.

 She tilted her head with a confused smile as she touched the yellow-butterflies-clip in her voluminous red wig. Now that you were thinking about it, you sewed your skirt the day it happened, ‘it’s just a coincidence, I don’t believe in these things’ you said to yourself, you were not superstitious but at the same time you avoided superstitions, just in case.

 “Whatever you want,” Iris said with a soft smile. 

  You touched your neck and you thought how a shiny pendant would look good. “Iris, do we have some necklace to match this dress?” She stepped closer to you looking at your chest. 

“I think you shouldn’t wear any jewelry tonight,” you tilted your head in confusion, “see, today is your first appearance after the,” she paused, “incident.”

“And what is it supposed to do with jewe—“ she didn’t let you finish your sentence.

“You could wear pearls or diamonds but what would the elite think? That you want to appear, that you want to show off,” she walked behind you so you could see her reflection in the mirror. “How you present yourself is the way they perceive you,” Iris brushed your long hair on the side, exposing your neck, “you are wearing a white dress, ‘how pure!’ No diamonds, ‘how modest!’ “try to think like the socialites, once you enter their minds, your act will get a standing ovation”. Her words put everything in a different perspective, she really knew what she was doing. 

You heard a knock on the door, “the party starts in an hour!” A muffled voice said from the corridor.

“Thank you Ariandes, we’re almost done!” Iris said in a loud tone. 

In less than sixty minutes you had to put on your best mask and try to change the mind of a thousand people about yourself, with Coriolanus by your side, pretending he is your supportive lover. You felt a rush of anxiety on your chest, like a weight pressing against your heart.

“I don’t think I can go,” you whispered with a trembling voice. Iris made a worried look.

“Oh sweety, I can only imagine what you have been through,” she took a lilac glass flask from the desk beside the mirror, “you are a strong woman,” she sprayed a lavender fragrance on your neck and she smiled. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror, and with all your strength you tried to keep the tears that threatened to spill over. “Iris, how do I fake being so interested in someone?” You asked, thinking about what was written in that file. 

“Have you ever been in love?” She asked with a soft gaze.

You didn’t know the answer to that question, you had a couple of boyfriends in your university years, but were you in love? 

“It’s when every atom of your body's only desire is to burn at the mere thought of being with that someone,” Iris looked up, like she was thinking of somebody, you felt even more disoriented with her answer. 

You couldn’t identify that feeling with anyone, you’ve never met someone that made ‘your cells burn’. What would that even mean, you thought.

 The door opened and you turned your head to see Ariandes, the political advisor, “We gotta go,” he said looking at Iris. The man had his hair pulled back in a long braid, dark as his skin. You walked in his direction and you followed him.

The moment you stepped into the car you felt a sudden tension, it was dark outside, only one side of Coriolanus’ face was lit up by cars passing by. He was wearing a red coat that covered the rest of the outfit, his blonde locks were lightly falling on his temples and you noticed he was wearing a ring on his left index finger.

 “Act as natural as possible,” Coriolanus said and he looked at you, it felt like he was inspecting your body and you wished to be in his mind at that very moment.

 Was everything going according to plan? 

No, you didn’t want to know what it was like to be in his head, it was torturing enough being on the outside. 

“I’m not very good at lying,”

‘not as good as you’, you wanted to say. 

He looked at you like he read your mind, luckily you couldn’t see his expression. “Don’t be impulsive, smile and never leave my side,” you felt he was giving you orders, “what 's going to happen at the political campaign depends partially on today’s gala.”

 “You know, Mr. Snow,” you started “I tried reading your fiction-book but it was so,” you tried examining his face, “unrealistic,” he scoffed and looked the other way, “you want me to paint you as the man you aren’t and never will —caring, affectionate and respectful “I can’t do miracles, people won’t believe my lies forever.”

Coriolanus clenched his jaw, “at least the whole Panem doesn’t hate me,” he said close to your face.

“Yet,” you added, hoping to maintain eye contact one more second. 

“And just a reminder,” he said, “without me you would have been at home, crying and begging for forgiveness,” he whispered in a bitter tone in your ear.

 “And without me you wouldn’t have the attention you crave so much,” you replied, feeling the tension in the air. 

Coriolanus was too close to you, like an animal before hunting his prey, you could see his facial features reflecting the weak light outside. The engine stopped, and the driver opened the car door.

“Mr. Snow” he said and Coriolanus stepped out of the car, he didn’t even look at you. 

‘He would slam the door in my face if he could’, you thought.

 You took the driver’s hand, helping you get out with your long dress. Coriolanus took his maroon coat off and he gave it to an avox at the entrance. You could see him from his back, he was wearing an ivory jacket and trousers, his suit matched your gown. He calculated every single detail. Unexpectedly, Coriolanus waited for you as you stood by him in the hall, he extended his arm and you looked at him. 

“Do I have to?” You asked and you noticed a white rose on his breast pocket. 

“It’s just an act,” he replied and you took him by the arm. 

Let the play begin. 

The ballroom was lit by magnificent chandeliers and the air was filled with whispers and laughter. The atmosphere was comforting and energetic: people with colorful wigs, glitter dresses and sugary drinks. There was not a face you could recognise, it was not what you were used to, even though you have been living in the Capitol for all your life, you’ve never experienced a party like this. You walked through the crowd with Coriolanus by your side, arm by arm, while everybody was looking curiously at your direction. You’ve heard someone saying his name, and something about the girl he was walking with. 

Why her? Since when does Snow have a girlfriend? I’ve heard really bad things about that woman.

And there it was, the gossip, the uncertain glances and how they looked down on you. On the other hand, people were praising him. 

He’s so charming! White suits him well! Future president of Panem. 

You looked at Coriolanus, the warm light was making his eyes brighter, or was it the crowd? He looked at them so proudly, with a confident smile, he was living for that moment, being the center of attention. He met your gaze, then his blue eyes looked at your dress, but not the same way people did. 

It felt different. 

Was he judging? 

Admiring maybe? It was a mystery, nothing was black or white with him. 

Coriolanus greeted a couple of his acquaintances, introducing you as his partner, then calling you his date and it once slipped from his lips calling you his girlfriend. And you actually were, in that moment, you had to act as his beloved girlfriend who had a well known bad reputation. He never let your arm go away, he was acting so well, playing the caring boyfriend who couldn’t leave you alone. 

“Here they are, the couple of the night!” A loud voice came from behind, it was Flavius Windbuzz, one of the most famous tv hosts in the Capitol. His voice was recognisable from miles away, it didn’t matter if you watched television or not, he was everywhere and it was impossible in Capitol City not knowing his name. 

He stepped closer to you with a glowing smile and a glitter microphone, he had his hair gray, more like silver. “Everybody is talking about you, the new Capitol lovebirds,” a camera was pointing at you and your heartbeat was getting faster, everyone stopped talking and stared at you both. “So tell me Mr. Snow, who is this young lady you are showing off?” 

“You said it right Flavius, she is my girlfriend,” he did it again, Coriolanus said girlfriend, this time broadcast on tv. 

“What a pleasure to meet you,” the host said to you, he took your hand and kissed it. These exaggerated gestures were the usual in this type of parties, especially where a silver-haired-man was interviewing the guests. He asked about your family, if you liked the food —you didn’t touch any but you lied, and who was the designer of your dress, everything as the script said.

  “Honey, you are a really interesting woman but I have to ask you something,” Mr. Windbuzz said, “people are talking and it is my job to satisfy their desires. “So tell me, are the rumors true?” 

You expected a much worse question, you stopped breathing for a moment and Coriolanus noticed that because you tightened the grip on his arm. “You tell me Flavius, what do the rumors say?” You answered with a soft smile hiding your discomfort.

  “I know that during the last edition of The Hunger Games, something really unfortunate happened,” you noticed he had purple contacts on, and that was something that made you even more nervous. “Is it true that you took part in the incident we all saw live on TV?” He asked and you felt like your heart was beating outside your chest.

“It is true,” the crowd gasped, and your pulse increased. 

“So tell me, how did it feel when you killed those poor and innocent tributes?” The question was worded differently than what you read on that file. 

Killed. 

Poor and innocent. 

You couldn’t get out of your head their lifeless faces, the foam coming out of their mouths and the sound of the cannon echoing in that room. The hall started spinning, you saw the interviewer’s face, a mix of compassion and concern, as the crowd started whispering more and more you felt your head cold and heavy. The microphone was pointing in your direction but you could not even stutter a syllable, blank pages wandered in your mind and you felt a sense of emptiness. You felt a hand on your shoulder and you turned your dizzy head to see Coriolanus who started talking for you.

“She was more than devastated, I remember—, ” you saw his lips moving like the time had slowed down and you were not listening to his words, his voice echoed in your ears as you never took your eyes off of him. 

His grip on your shoulder tightened and his eyes looked at you as he tilted his head suggesting you both could go away. You followed him even though your ears were still ringing and your sight blurring, Coriolanus was walking too fast so you took his hand in yours or you could really faint on the ground. At that action, he looked at you with a confused stare, his hand grip was firm and steady as he dragged you in the bathroom. After checking no one was in there, he leaned against the door so no one could step in. You stood in front of him, his curls falling on his forehead that was a little sweaty, then he began talking, but the sound of his words were just an intense ring in your ears. He placed both his hands on your cheeks trying to have your attention, and you woke up from your hypnotic state.

“They are just hypocrites, they are the ones who watch The Hunger Games on tv, they send money to help their favorite to kill.” Coriolanus said looking in your eyes, and you started sobbing. “They are not better than you, “stop crying and play their game.” 

You felt the warmth of his hands on your skin, he never touched you this way, it was intimate, nothing you could expect from him. For a moment, you brushed your hand with his but he instantly removed it, walking away from your sight. 

“He was too indiscreet,” you heard him whisper, “I should’ve expected that from him.” 

“No Coriolanus, I should’ve expected this question,” your voice was still trembling, “you said it wasn’t going to be easy, I deserve this, “do you still think this act is a good idea?” You asked him. 

His tall figure leaned against the green tiles of the bathroom, he had his hands on his pockets and he was looking down, thinking about who knows what. Now that you were seeing from a distance, he resembled an angel. His white suit, his blonde curls and the perking blue eyes. No, there was nothing pure and heavenly in him. You thought he was probably thinking about how you ruined his plan, how he had to intervene to save your umpteenth failure and he was now calculating another strategy. 

‘Not an angel, a fallen angel, the next Lucifer of Panem.’

 “The night is still young,” he said while stepping to the door. He didn’t answer your question, was he regretting meeting you? 

Everything was as you left it. The party was still going and no one seemed to have noticed your panic attack. That was a relief. You tried distracting yourself, you couldn’t stop thinking about what happened before. The interview, the crying, his hands on your face. Everything was worse than you had expected. You and Coriolanus were in the hallway next to the massive columns that supported the ceilings, on the other side people were dancing to a classical melody. You wanted to stay there, outside their sight, because to you the dance floor was more like an arena where people were going to attack you. 

“Shall we?” Coriolanus extended his hand suggesting to go dancing with him. 

“I’m not good at dancing, I could step on your feet,” you hoped it would’ve been enough for him to give up. 

“I’ll take the risk.” That was his plan, acting like nothing happened and putting his best smile on to be the charming man everyone adored. 

You took his hand, the same hand that wiped your tears off your face was now intertwined in yours. Every time you looked for an excuse to not like him. As if you had to remind yourself that you hated him. Did you? He was dancing with you so naturally, holding you like you had known each other for a very long time, his hand on your waist as if he was used to it. There was nothing evil in him on the outside, and that was the problem. 

“I’ve just saved your face, thank me later.” 

You rolled your eyes at Coriolanus’ words. “I’m used to humiliations so next time don’t bother yourself.” you replied.

“Oh but I’m not used to it and don’t worry, there will be no next time.” Without a notice, he made you twirl around.

“When will this thing end?” You asked annoyed.

 “I hate it as much as you,” he pushed your waist closer to him, this way you were face to face, noses touching. 

“What the fuck Coriol—,” 

He interrupted you, “for the cameras.” 

You turned your head and you saw a bunch of flashes, blinding your sight. Coriolanus leaned over you and your lips were brushing, you couldn’t push him away because of the photographers. You had no time to tell him something, that he kissed you. It was for a second, just one second where your lips touched. It was cold, dry and unexpected. Just like him. Snow by name, snow by nature. If only eyes could talk. You’d probably say to him how you wished you weren’t there, with him, and you wondered what his blue eyes would say to you, probably the same. After that moment, Coriolanus didn’t say a word to you. You were there, smiling at photographers hoping to drop your mask as soon as they’d left. 

The rest of the night went according to plan. Flavius interviewed all the future candidates and Coriolanus had the opportunity to make his well prepared speech, he also got invitations from influential members close to the president Ravinstill, not to mention the many sponsor offers he had. At least something was going well, for him though. The ride back home was painful. You and Coriolanus were looking outside the window, his crimson coat was the only barrier separating your bodies. 

“Did they ever tell you how bad you are at kissing,” you hated silence so much you could say the stupidest things that came to mind just not to hear your thoughts. You turned your head to see him and his eyes were already on you. 

“Mhm, girls usually compliment me for other qualities,” he chuckled, “and then that wasn’t me kissing, remember it’s just for show,” he whispered looking at the driver hoping he wasn’t paying attention.

“Well, no one believed your poor attempt to look in love,” you said and he untied the knot of his white tie. 

“I was caught off guard,” he said looking at you, cars speeding in the window behind him, “and I can’t just kiss how I would normally do.” 

You tried not to laugh at his words, ‘what would that even mean?’ you thought. “Just try to convince them, because you didn’t even convince me.” 

“How should I kiss you then?”

He put his hand on the back of your head, with his thumb brushed your temple and he pulled you closer, his lips touching yours softly. You knew what was going to happen, but you let him do it. 

The way he kissed you, like he was starving for your lips, hungry for your taste. Was he the same man that kissed you before? You melted in his touch, his hand slided down your neck, his fingers pressing on your throat, making you shiver even more. He tasted like mint and posca, his hair smelled of roses and his skin was warm under your touch.

 Coriolanus pulled away from your lips but you came closer to cut the gap separating you. It felt like an instinct, like you were not satisfied enough and you could feel a sense of heat down your core. He pulled away the coat that was between you and his other hand was now on your exposed back, keeping you closer, his tongue still dancing dangerously with yours as you intertwined your fingers in his locks.

“Coryo” you said between kisses.

He wasn’t intending to stop and neither did you, but you remembered who was the man who was holding you that way, whose hands were making you shiver, whose lips were making you want for more and what nickname you just whined. 

“I think we should,” you managed to say, trying to stop yourself from doing something you were going to regret. You broke the kiss, his lips were swollen still too close to yours. 

He whispered, "I told you, I can be convincing when needed.”    

🦋 A/N: I hope you enjoyed this first chapter, let me know what you think in the comments! I’ll probably explain the details of the scandal and how they met next time, it’s way more than you can imagine from here. Also I KNOW there is no smut here, but bear with me, it's a slow burn and trust me in the next chapter I’ll add some ✨ spice ✨. In this first chapter I wanted to set up the atmosphere.

A special thanks to Freddie Mercury and the song “Play the game” that helped me when I was stuck, to the poet Taylor Swift who reminded me of the many ways you can say the color red. PLEASE let me know if you want to be tagged next time 💌 

ask me questions here !

@gracieghost36955 @annavatar @ghostlyloversworld @badbussylol @gracieroxzy @coolcatyarb @coriosgf @xxrougefangxx @devils-blackrose @wearemadeofstardust0

[lovequartz]

the art of pie-making.

❥ pairing: woozi x baker!reader

❥ genre: fluff! sea-side town au

❥ warnings: none

❥ word count: 971

❥ let your adoration spill

❥ notes: this is also set in the g&b + bruise universe! i just love the setting of those pieces so i find myself writing for them a lot. this is also my first time writing for jihoon so please enjoy the fruits of my labor!!

jihoon is very romantic.

although he seems quite standoffish and has a bit of a tsundere attitude, he is probably the most romantic man you’ve ever known. grandiose gestures, extravagant outings, and luxurious gifts are not what make jihoon romantic. his soft way of loving you, and genuine care is what does.

those small acts and gestures that you know are reserved just for you make you swoon more than a diamond necklace ever could. you wouldn’t trade the press of his lips against your wrist, that small smile he gives you across the room to say he misses you, or the brush of his knuckles across your cheek when he thinks you're asleep for all the money in the world.

so you can’t say you find it surprising when you catch a glimpse of a photo of yourself tucked into jihoon’s wallet.

you were in the kitchen, busy prepping ingredients for the several pies you were baking. one was for you and jihoon to enjoy after dinner tonight, while the others were for friends. despite how taxing making multiple pies at once was, it was also helpful to get feedback from friends so that when you went to the market this upcoming week you knew what pies would sell well and what pies wouldn’t. also, it was a bit therapeutic to have something to do and it didn’t hurt that the kitchen always smelled amazing.

you heard jihoon even before he said your name, something he does to not startle you when he comes up behind you like this. feeling the warmth of his hand on your hip, he leans over to press a kiss to your cheek.

“morning,” he murmurs against your skin, hooking his chin over your shoulder.

“morning,” you reply softly, “you aren’t going into the workshop today?”

he makes a grumble, and you feel it from where his chest presses into your back. It's a bit soothing to be honest, like a cat purring.

“i am, i have to finish those rings for mr. seo and his wife. i would much rather stay here with you, and these pies. what flavors are you making this time?”

mr. & mrs. seo were an elderly couple that lived not too far from joshua’s farm. mrs. seo’s wedding ring had an unfortunate incident that ended with it being broken and jihoon despite the majority of his expertise being in woodworking, has proficiency with metalworking as well. so it's known around town that he can fix things like broken rings and what have you.

you nod over to the pile of fruits sitting atop the counter, “apple, blackberry, and pear. do you have a preference for the one we keep?”

“hmm,” he pretends to mull it over but you know what he’ll end up choosing, “let’s do blackberry.”

you nod with a small smile, “okay, blackberry it is. i packed lunch for you, it's by the door so you can grab it on your way out.”

“getting rid of me already?” he teases with a squeeze of your hip, but before you can reply he steps away from you, “fine, i know where i’m not wanted."

this pulls a giggle out of you, before you shoo him out of the kitchen. “don’t forget your lunch! you call out, before returning to your pies. however, when you go over to grab the apples to begin cutting them you find something underneath your foot. bending down to pick it up you realize it's jihoon wallet. funny enough, you find your own face staring back at you.

a picture of you from years ago, when you and jihoon were newly together. you had taken a day trip to the next town over, a spontaneous idea of yours wanting to see jihoon take a break from how hard he was working at the time. In the photo your smile is wide, and you’re holding up a kitten. one you two had found by happenstance, and would not stop following you and jihoon. you ended up taking the kitten home and he’s been with you ever since, most likely rolling around in the back garden at this very moment.

you snap out of your reminiscing to realize jihoon would most likely need his wallet, and so you tear out the front door not even thinking about slipping on a pair of shoes. catching glimpse of jihoon almost at the bottom of the small hill your home resides on you call his name.

he turns back to see you rushing down towards him, his brow furrowed in concern. he reaches his arms out to steady you once you are near enough to him, and you catch your breath as best you can.

“you forgot this!” you say, once your lungs feel normal again, holding out his wallet.

his expression softens but you can still see the tinge of concern that pinches his features.

“you didn’t have to rush over this,” he replies, “look at you, you don’t even have shoes on. what if you hurt yourself?” he brushes his knuckles against your cheek, his other hand taking the wallet from your fingers.

“you keep a picture of me,” you say, brushing past his comments.

he gives you a bewildered look, “in my wallet?”

you nod, smiling.

“of course I keep a picture of you,” he says plainly, “i love you, and i wanna see you all the time.”

your heart nearly bursts, and you throw your arms around jihoon squeezing tightly. you feel him sigh and start rubbing a hand down your back.

“i love you,” you say, lips against his neck, and he chuckles.

“i love you,” he replies, before bending slightly to hook his arm under your knees and hauling you into his arms, “so please don’t chase me down without your shoes ever again.”

notes: thanks for reading! i really enjoyed writing this <3

[blackbutlerfandomnerddomain]

RANDOM DEATH NOTE HEADCANONS I WANT TO SHARE THANKS TO ME WANTING TO EXSPAND MY AU:

LIGHT:

Has survivor syndrome. What's that? Survivor syndrome, also known as survivor's guilt, is the response of a person when they believe they have done something wrong by surviving a traumatic event when others did not, often feeling self-guilt. This can be from being Kira or set before Kira, like an incident from his youth that he forever lingers with. This mixed with his "where's the justice" mind set only adds fuel to the fire of the war in his mind

Favorite food isn't apples as many would assume/joke about

The poor boy didn't really think of his sexual orientation until collage, didn't have the means or needs to and it wasn't only until he dated Misa and began to hang out with L he started to think on it more

In my AU Ryuk and Rem didn't give Light and Misa the Death Notes again and L, Light, Misa, etc didn't die, so this technically takes place the amnesia arc which I argue is a favorite okay?! Still doesn't mean Light gets dreams of him as Kira and isn't aware he was.

MISA:

Got really into the Gothic look after her parents' death where someone was a jerk and said a "joke" when she was still wearing black while she was still grieving

Didn't really fall in love with L right away (obviously) but she did care for him in a way that showed she cared

Loves bubble baths

Like Light she still has dreams of Rem and often find herself crying over the waking of her dreams as if someone killed her loved one in front of her

And like Light she knows after Rem confronted her she was the second Kira and feels terrible about it

Has a beautiful singing voice

After a lot her and Kiyomi kind of became friends, she honestly feels as if Kiyomi reminds her of someone she knew before (ie rem)

L:

Dude, this man was aware he liked both for a loooooonnng ass time, since Wammy actually

He knows Light and Misa were Kira, I mean he subspecies it since day one but to actually be right honestly hurt him.. He didn't want to be right in this case. So, he swore not to say a word since they're no longer Kira and 2nd Kira

Loves baths more than Misa

His family died in an domestic abuse murder suicide and he wandered out the house alone in which an officer found him and discovered his family's death, since then he's been emotionally isolated

Is autistic just doesn't get meds

Has lots of stim toys and objects he uses a lot when he thinks hard or under/overstimulated

Loves hot cocoa with marshmallows and whipped cream

Watari was basically his father after the many years they've known each other, doing the most of a father like role than others, helping the boy when needed, etc. And while L doesn't show emotions he generally is greatful and sees Watari as his father figure, even having him his best man and father-of-the-groom for his wedding

MISALIGHTL:

As mentioned with L when I said "wedding", the three didn't really want a huge public wedding since that would exposed L's identity and it would be a headache to deal with so they had a secret small ceremony with friends and some family with Watari being L's father-of-the-groom, Sayu as Light's Best Lady, and Kiyomi was Misa's maid of Honor. They each wore a mix of white and black with some red elements thrown in there for many reasons but mostly cause L said they looked good so yeah

Their wedding cake was similar to these two:

They all live in an apartment together, similar as to the building they were all stuck in, and have their own rooms/studies for work while Misa keeps working as a model and actress and both L and Light kept working as detectives until Light decided to leave being a detective after so many nightmares of cases and being Kira and decided to be a true crime/mystery novel writer

One day while they were chilling, pre-marriage them btw, L decided he's going to visit Wammy to get any plans of who his next "L" would be if he died and they came along with him. There they were able to meet Near, Mello, and Matt. The three kids hung out with them during their stay back in Japan to see who is perfect for the next role. Weeks pass and all three are doing really well and it didn't really sink in until later that L is actually doing this to see if he wants kids. Well, Misa and Light like the idea and they ended up adopting Mello as their son in which he admittedly cried

They go on date nights three times a week, one for each pair with their trio dates mostly being at home

After a few years of marriage they had two kids of their own in which Mello likes the role of older brother

NEAR:

Like L, Near is autistic (I believe that's canon and people hate it??)

Is nonbinary. I'm sorry I honestly can't see this baby as cis at all!

Owns lots of pants, shirts, skirts, dresses, tights, boots, heels, flat shoes, socks that'll work with him with any gender dysphoria and day

Primally goes by Near since that sounded right

Suffer from night terrors which is how his spark of studying happened cause that distracted them

Demi-Sexual bean!

Got adopted by Kiyomi and gets spoiled rotten

MELLO:

Choco-holic what else is new

Suffered an eating disorder which was quickly helped fixed with Matt and his new family

Mentioned above with L, Light, and Misa adopting him, he adores his family gratefully and it's not just cause L chose him out of everyone

Him and Near still have a rather strong rivalry but it's healthy now and also more so childish thanks to their adopted families

Likes his Uncle Matsuda a lot (Matsuda ends up marrying Sayu in this)

Is kind of that kid in school who knows shit and will market the crap out of soda and candies to the kids who have money and parents who won't allow sugar in his household

Often gets caught sneaking out to see Matt and sometimes (a lot) Near by his parents

Is Pan and always knew it

MATT:

Got adopted by Stephen and Teru in this AU

Still is obsessed with video games and eats candy cigarettes until he's legal to smoke if he wants to

Is straight besties with Mello and Near

Has so much gaming stuff it's unreal

Loves the rain

MATT X MELLO X NEAR:

Got together sometime after Near was adopted with Matt and Mello being a thing first and Near joined after

They're both protective of Near

And then Near would shock everyone with a thrown of a textbook to the face if someone says something bad about either of them

Misa is overly supportive of this relationship, Kiyomi loves to tease Near often, and the many times Teru and Stephen would interrupt calls with them to tease is too much

[mymarifae]

what do you think about the new girl page? seeing lots of divisive opinions on that one

mm. mmmmmm. hoooooooo boy ok let's talk about this. i guess.

to sum it up succinctly? it strikes me as bizarre. like, just bizarre. it's weird on multiple levels and fucks with established characterizations of susie, kris, AND noelle. it's messy and i think it was a poor choice. and for now i'm tentatively bonking toby over the head with a hammer (i will get into why it's tentative for now, rest assured) and i'm also bonking everyone praising it and immediately incorporating it into their views of the characters.

to break it down further...?

in and of itself, it's like. alright, we've got this indirect and yet very clear confirmation that susie was adopted/temporarily housed by (and is still bouncing around in the foster care system) a human family and has/had a "mother" who abuses/d her. so she's lashing out. she's redirecting her pain and trauma onto the one human in hometown. who was also adopted. by a family of monsters. a family that is kind and loving. that's not fair, why didn't she get to be a dreemurr, why did kris steal her chance, this isn't fair this isn't fucking fair-

she's a hurt, scared kid. and i don't necessarily think this is a. well i don't want to say "i don't think this is a bad scene to canonize" because it is a bad scene - it's uncomfortable and it caused me a lot of pain to read. but it's not like unforgivable, and it doesn't make susie a bad person.

i will never hold a grudge against a kid for lashing out when they were never taught love and kindness and acceptance. i will never hold a grudge against a child for being scared and hurt and so so so so angry at the unfairness of the world.

my issues with it arise from the way it just... doesn't... make sense. if susie was truly so horrible to kris, why were they so quick to trust her? hell, why was she so eager to be their friend? there should be a hell of a lot more tension between them. the things susie said to kris were genuinely pretty awful and can't be swept under the rug Just Like That.

it also completely contradicts the way chapter 1 is set up, where we slowly piece together that susie never actually bullied anyone. sure, the way the blog post is written makes it sound like she only went after kris when they were alone, but that kind of visceral hate isn't going to go completely unnoticed. i mean, noelle picked up on it before seeing the classroom incident, yeah? i feel like someone would have said something. and i feel like MK especially would have made one off-hand comment about how much susie seems to hate kris Specifically instead of just repeatedly saying that they've never seen her actually do anything bad, but, b-but, BUT she still sucks kris lol.

also, noelle's "i always thought susie can't be that bad!" comment makes noooooooo fucking sense if she saw this unfold. because she literally saw that yeah. she's that bad.

it puts kris and susie's current easy natural loving friendship in a very weird light, and i very much dislike how many people are jumping to accept it. yes, i also love depth in characters' relationships. i love layers and complexities and tensions.

depth =/= toxic. and that's what this blog post does. it makes it toxic. it makes noelle's crush on susie toxic and uncomfortable as well. (seriously: "maybe i should buy apple shampoo so she bullies me instead? XD" ?????????????)

now you will note that i said i am Tentatively bonking toby over the head with a hammer. there is another reason why i don't like people jumping to incorporate this whole mess into their understanding of kris and susie's friendship:

... how do you know this is a scene from our game's current timeline?

it's pretty obvious deltarune has some fuckery going on irt timelines and resets similarly to undertale. on that same note, i've always loved how quickly susie and kris Click, but it has always made me raise an eyebrow. because that is not two teens slowly realizing they have more common ground than they thought and slowly letting their guards down around each other. that is two already best friends reuniting.

the way i've come to understand it is this: in the very, very, very first instance of "deltarune", it took kris and susie a very long time to become friends. BECAUSE of what happened in the classroom and whatever else. they only began to trust each other a heartbeat away from the end of the world. and then they fail. and then the timeline resets. and they do it again.

and the... feelings, the vague memories and the déjà vu. they linger. distantly, susie remembers a time when they were almost friends. and as the timelines go on, again and again, they just build up. things begin to change. their stories become brighter and brighter, despite ultimately ending in the tragedy that [gaster] wishes to prevent. until we get to this point where susie feels like she should be furious with kris for Something, but she can't bring herself to. and thus our current timeline, the beginning of Our Game, is born.

i stand by my theory that kris and susie's friendship will be what prevents the roaring or the angel's heaven or whatever other apocalyptic events ralsei decides to tell us about later. the red soul's intervention has nothing to do with it. they have lived countless lives together. they know now, just intrinsically, that there's no one they can trust more than each other. they are best friends till the end.

and by god is it going to be a happy one.

toby still gets a bonk over the head if this is the case btw because i ultimately disagree with using "ogh. timelines." as character development but i'll accept it if it means this stupid blog post isn't real (anymore). otherwise, he is going to need to pull some fucking magic out of his ass to explain this properly to me because it literally demolishes 2 chapters of build up and development ABFNDBDKGKFGKFJKGKDG 👍🏾

[ask-sibverse]

So! Yesterday was another bad migraine and my brain turns to cotton when those happen. I'm still kiiiiinda recovering so for now, because reading other people talking about their headcanons and thoughts on fandom shit just makes me wanna yell about my own shit! So here we go, going into every single Dreamtale in Sibverse, why they fought, and how they reconcile (short summaries, only going into anything not a spoiler)

Nox and Reve (main pair)

Why they fought: p typical Apple incident, Nox was still just angry at everything and everyone by the time Reve came out of stone. It took a long time before Nox calmed down, and by then was too proud to admit he was wrong. Reve really didn't know how to handle things, so things continued in much of the same for thousands of years

How they reconciled: Mari, who was originally a close friend of Reve, is "accidentally kidnapped" by the Bad Sanses and ends up befriending them as well. Through some more dumbass bullshit the twins are finally in a calmer situation to talk things out (and actually admit to their own stupidity)

Star and Nova (outer/celestialverse)

Why they fought: they only fought during the Apple Incident

How they reconciled: Nova and Star talked things out immediately after Star came out of being a statue

Belladonna and Daisy (floralverse)

Why they fought: the torment of the villagers continued even into teenage years. Daisy, likely as a coping mechanism, was unable to fully admit to how bad the villagers were, leading Bella to believe his twin just couldn't admit that "good people" could be bad. This led to an almost compulsive "need" to "prove" to Daisy that everyone has darkness and can be bad.

How they reconciled: tbh Bella and Daisy never truly "talked things out." It's more that over time while Bella was sealed he started to calm down and they were less at each other's throats (this is sibverse only. The floralverse fic is a "what if" Star never came and Bella was never sealed)

Kage and Yume (I still need to fucking name this verse)

Why they fought: similar to Bella and Daisy, but Kage honestly wanted everyone to hurt like he was hurting, including his twin. Kage honestly did some fucked up shit that will require trigger warnings when appropriate.

How they reconciled: they really don't. Their bond is never able to recover, even with Kage eventually apologizing

Morpheus and Pyrite (witchverse, we're getting into verses I haven't introduced yet)

Why they fought: post apple incident Morph calmed down relatively fast, all things considered. He was unable to free his twin at the time, and ended up meeting and becoming close to a mortal that became like a mother/family to him. When she was murdered, he fucking lost it, and decided to just wreck everything in his grief

How they reconciled: Morph started handling his grief better and calmed the fuck down (there is a lot more to this)

Comfy and Anxy (Comfort and Anxiety, they don't quite have a name for the verse oops)

Why they fought: Acrylic(Ink) ended up repeatedly alienating Comfy from his twin, meanwhile Anxy had some of his own issues that made everything worse.

How they reconciled: they actually got a chance to talk properly with help from some outside forces.

Important note: Acrylic is not an "evil" Ink. He had some shit ways of handling some trauma and mental issues, but is not evil.

Solar and Lunar (mythverse, a semi FTFO inspired verse with influences from Norse and other pagan mythology)

Why they fought: being stubborn

How they reconciled: they ended up raising Cura (their Ink) together

Nighty and Shard

Why they fought: apple incident

How they reconciled: Nighty grew up and calmed down, and talked things out with Shard post statue, then raised his twin

Dagger and Knuckles (Fellverse)

Why they fought: honestly it was the two dumbasses just petty bickering - because they're Swapfell based not Swap based - post Apple Incident

How they reconciled: work between Lighter (their Ink, an absolutely sassy gremlin in platform heels) and Star to basically literally knock some sense into both of them

Swad and Swan (Swapdream babyyyy)

Why they fought: excessive amounts of positive magic in Swad's system led to the blinding positivity and manic behavior

How they reconciled: Star basically fought Swad enough to burn the magic out of the system enough for him to finally calm down and the two had a very long talk

Other Dreamtale twins that did not need to reconcile are Silver and Gold (merverse/leviathan verse, if they ever fought and reconciled it was waaaaay outside the fic timeline), and Summer and Winter (rescued basically moments before the Apple Incident, their tree of feelings is under a magic barrier now and neither twin consumed an apple), and then Yami and Hikari (coreverse, the multiverse Observer was born in) reconcile due to heavy amounts of plot intervention

[redmoonwanderer]

FFXIV Write, Day 5 Prompt: Cutting corners

His steps break branches that he doesn’t bother trying to avoid. His breathing is heavy, and various cuts and bruises throb in pain. He glances over his shoulder, but nothing is following him. The beast that had noticed him and decided to try its luck with him since he was out alone had given up its chase. It’s hard to believe, though, he can still feel the hot breath in his neck, and his ears are still ringing with its feroucious roar.

He pushes a branch to the side, only for it to slap him on the back of his head after he’s passed. He doesn’t even flinch. After everything he’s just been through, he barely feels it. He wipes blood from his forehead, and tries to clean the blood on his coat, but it just smudges.

He wonders what would happen if he told any of his friends about this. Poor attempts at hiding their bubbling laughter, no doubt. It would be in good spirit, of course, and maybe one day he would laugh to this whole incident, himself. Right now? Unlikely.

The path up to the gates of Gridania rises in front of him, and he stops to take a look at himself, dusts himself off, picks off a leaf or two from his hair. He glances at the ground, and he sees fresh prints that he knows belong to the greedy friend that got him into all this trouble in the first place.

He huffs, then puts one leg in front of the other. He sees a novice adventurer stop his squirrel hunt to stare at him with wide eyes. Qhol’a waves at him, gives a tired smile, and feels a little a touch amused when an angry ladybug headbutts the light-haired Miqo’te, gaining his attention.

Perhaps he should embrace these lighter troubles when they come his way.

The Serpent at the gate takes note of his arrival, and waves her greeting. “Your friend rushed in earlier. We were worried that something had happened...” She looks at him up and down, then back at his face. “Which it apparently did.”

Qhol’a waves his hand dismissively. The Serpent looks at him with doubt, but doesn’t question him. “If you say so,” she says, instead. “Anyway, your friend is at the stables, more likely than not.”

He nods his thanks to her and passes through the gates.

At the stables, he sees the familiar, dark purple chocobo, beak deep in his feed. When it sees him, it lets out a happy, “Kweh!”

He wouldn’t mind scolding the bird, but he knows it would fall on ununderstanding ears, so he just pats it a little and makes sure its uninjured. It headbutts him, and Qhol’a digs out a fresh apple.

“Next time, I won’t give you promises of food,” he says quietly. “And maybe you won’t be finding the shortest route home, no matter how many beasts we will encouter.”

Incitatio simply chirps a content tune before returning to his food. Qhol’a shakes his head, smiling slightly, and turns to head over to Carline’s Canopy for some refreshments of his own.

[m1lkt00th]

Summary: Reverie and Daydream have a fight. Daydream loses. Reverie also technically loses. Reverie goes and sulks in a corner somewhere. Daydream cannot, in fact, sulk.

✦

Dreamtale : Jokublog

So, (PROLOGUE) There were three trees, the tree of magic, life and feelings. The guardian of feelings was attacked by persons that wanted the positive apples. The guardian was losing a lot of blood because of the attack and the tree was also hurt due to their link. The guardian used their magic to make Daydream and Reverie. They picked a fifer vessel for them first but it didn't work out L. Then they picked a vessel like Blu and it worked. The gaurdian fused with the tree to preserve it. So the two were made to be guardians of the tree of feelings.

Dream Plutunetale began to fill with life and the villagers blamed Reverie for their misfortune and consistently harassed/attacked them. Reverie came up with the idea to have Daydream distract the villagers. Daydream did and the villagers ended up liking him more. Reverie felt jealous because of the positive attention Daydream always got. Reverie chose to stay by the tree because Daydream was always busy in the village. Canvans showed up some time before the apple incident (half a decade at best) and they became friends. They agreed not to tell Daydream.

Reverie got attacked by a mob by the tree. They felt so much anger, sadness and pain in that moment that they decided to eat all of the negativity apples. And any positive apples they touched became negative. Daydream obviously got attracted to the commotion. There was only one positive apple left and Daydream swore to protect it. Reverie was being taken over by his negative emotions and begged Daydream to not forget who they were before the corruption covered their entire body.

Daydream tried to confront Reverie and make him eat the apple but Reverie, fueled by (unjustified) jealousy pinned Daydream by the neck with their tentacles. Reverie was going to destroy the last positive apple but Daydream ate it. The apple became a part of his being and therefore, his soul. Dream summoned a staff to defend himself. But the new sensation of feeling everyone's emotions was too overwhelming

While Daydream was distracted, Reverie attacked him. Reverie did not want to kill his brother, just get the apple. But Daydream was turned to stone because of the severe imbalance felt in both of their souls. Reverie, a part of them horrified, left Dreamtale and Daydream.

Canvans witnessed all of this and figured that his involvement with being friends with Reverie caused things to go so badly. So he made a note to not directly interact with an au's characters.

[sweetbunnykook]

Only You (10)

Word Count: 11,267 // [SPOILER IN WARNINGS] angst (mention of double homicide, gore/blood, miscarriage, mistreatment of a corpse, panic attack, meltdown, blackmail, gun, abuse), toxic relationship, manipulation

Photographer!Jungkook X Noona!Reader

Summary: Jeon Jungkook, your wedding photographer, helps you escape on your big day upon learning about a secret your groom-to-be kept hidden. You soon fall for this young, passionate photographer. However, you underestimated just how much he was willing to reciprocate that love. Maybe, you think, he’s loving you just a little too much.  

A/N: Thank you for waiting so long! Please let me know if you enjoyed this chapter if you want to. Enjoy! - 🐰

The distant sound of television in your living room.

‘We bring breaking news…Kim Namjoon, the heir of…yesterday morning…in questioning…accessory of the crime…kidnapping and killing of pregnant fiancée…found motive…’

The splatter of blood on his skin, the taste of blood on your tongue. Your whole world melts into a puddle of red. You feel him inside you, around your throat, his grip tightening, his kisses searing against your lips to pin your tongue underneath his.

A whisper against your ear.

‘You’ve made me the happiest man in the world, noona.’

You wake up with a start, gasping for air as you reach over to where Jungkook should be only to be met with a gray rabbit plushie. It has been a week since the night your life changed. Whether for the best or the worse, you can’t tell just yet. You rub a hand over your stomach where you’re cramping, taking deep breaths through your nose and exhaling through your lips to calm the panic of hearing and seeing red in your dreams once more. The brain is a relentless organ. No matter how much you force yourself to forget, to justify the past, to let your anger roam free, your dreams follow you as soon as your body succumbs to exhaustion.

Jungkook gifted you a bottle of melatonin for such nights but it was rather hard to sleep when every thought goes back to the sound of Yori’s lifeless body swallowed by the rustle of a black plastic trash bag. It’s a stark dichotomy from the images you have of her in her soft chiffon dresses, bleached hair swaying in the wind, her lithe frame moving effortlessly between the trees in your family garden. To think that you would lose her in such a way is unfathomable even when there is a sick, hideous part of you that felt almost relieved that you’re alone at last. Her existence only served as a reminder of your humiliation. 

It’s why you’d spent so many weeks and months back then cursing her – hoping she miscarry during your most vulnerable nights, hoping Namjoon would leave her for another woman so she gets a taste of how you’ve suffered; yet when the day comes when she’s truly gone, your heart and mind is restless. 

As your stomach settles, the residual guilt rising like bile up your throat gives you a newfound reason to tell yourself you’re still very much a good person. You’re still the woman Jungkook loves for your understanding and hardworking spirit. Partly feeling guilt towards her death meant you still loved her in your true, good nature – or at least you love the memory of what she used to mean to you. The girl you remembered – the girl who would make crowns for you with wildflowers, paint your sleeping form, talk about all the men she wrapped around her fingers – was long gone before you found her lying at the end of a staircase. Your mother can’t kill someone who was already dead in your eyes. 

The body your boyfriend stuffed in his freezer didn’t deserve your kindness nor repentance. It’s why you were able to waltz right into work the next morning from Jungkook’s studio, drinking the same cup of coffee at your desk, working the same files, and mentoring interns with a smile albeit the sudden panic episodes had caused you to empty your stomach after each meal.

You’ve run out of fingernails to bite. You’d expected the world to crumble and fall at your feet in the following days but everything feels oddly normal. The sun still rose. Flowers still bloomed. And Jungkook still loved you. 

Sitting at the edge of the bed, the thin sheen of sweat on your body makes the valley down your spine tingle, prompting you to reach back to scratch your skin raw. When you look over at the nightstand, the red digital numbers on your clock glare into your irises through the sleep haze – it’s barely two o’clock in the morning. With a groan, you stretch an arm towards the floor and pull Jungkook’s shirt towards your feet before bringing it to your chest. The half-buttoned cotton still smells like him. Like comfort.

When you slip the black long-sleeved shirt over your head and roll it down your body, buttoning up to cover your chest, you’re struck with the realization that tonight is the night Jungkook must finish the job. He hasn’t left your side since the accident, treating you with the utmost care, his prying eyes following your every move to the point you ended up pressing your lips against his each and every time just to cease his worries. His fingers melt like butter on your skin when he cups your jaw in search of any anxieties you might have hidden from him. It’s evident that he’s in awe and in confusion at your strength. Maybe he thought too highly of your capacity for forgiveness; like the loud saccharine-faced women you work with, you’re just a tantalizing red apple infested with rot beneath. 

And it’s with that very same façade you faced the detectives. 

The police came knocking at your door two days ago. Jungkook promptly informs you that there was nothing you need to worry about for now except keeping your composure. 

The two men explained the situation – a vague description about Yori’s disappearance, suspicion with Namjoon’s prolonged stay abroad, and odd evidence that she may be kidnapped or blackmailed – just as Jungkook predicted. You feigned passive concern as they took your statement about the last time you saw your former friend, inquired about the wedding incident, and noted the places she could be from your childhood memories. You answered every question with the calmness of an experienced storyteller, comforted when Jungkook confirmed your alibi with his hand wrapped around your fingers to keep you grounded when you trembled. A few angelic tears you shed hearing about Yori softened the mens’ heart although they didn’t have a single inkling of a different kind of fear buried inside you now that there is an investigation ongoing. 

There was something about the glimmer of their handcuffs that made you fear for Jungkook playing the role of the clueless but supportive boyfriend like a seasoned actor. The thought of the men pinning your boyfriend on the ground and ripping him away from you had you hurling digested dinner over the toilet shortly after they left. Your tears must have done much of the heavy lifting during the interrogation that even Jungkook had asked if you were feeling alright, thumbs rubbing back and forth over your cold, wet cheeks. 

You can’t live without him and if he were to be taken away from you, you wouldn’t know what to do. You’ve learned to fear his absence more than his capability for murder. Such thoughts threaten to cut the last strings of sanity holding you together. 

Despite Jungkook being there for you every step of the way, he was powerless when it comes to protecting you from the stench of office gossip that you must endure for the sake of calming suspicions about your outside activities. It was obvious what your coworkers thought of you as soon as the news came flooding about Yori’s sudden disappearance. Whether you feign concern or not, there have already been rumors about a sabotaged pregnancy. Their fake kindness and whispers gave you the freedom to look as disastrous as you feel. 

If only they knew that the true reasons for your sunken eyes and weight loss are far, far beyond their comprehension. If only they knew you were on your hands and knees scrubbing bodily fluids; the longer their mouths yapped, the more you thought about the red on your fingertips, how satisfying it felt to watch it spiral down the drain.

The first week was grueling but the second week – this week – when the voices of the two detectives, blood-filled memories, and buried dreams resurface, you’re completely cornered. Oh, how much you crave Jungkook’s touch, his gentleness, his ability to read your mind and body even more now that he’s gone to settle your debts. 

You take your cellphone resting on the nightstand next to the digital clock, place the rabbit plushie under your arm, and make your way out of the bedroom. The condo is dead silent except for the muffled cracklings of vehicles running over pebbles on the highway nearby. It’s awfully cold but the sight of the fridge makes you clench your jaw and turn towards the couch, sliding onto the padded surface when another pang of panic hits your stomach, leaving you to press your abdomen inwards with the heel of your palm. You grab your laptop from the dirty coffee table with your free hand and place it on your lap, cursing once more when your nerves refuse to ignore the coolness of the aluminum surface. You squeeze the soft fur ears of the plushie, but it doesn’t feel the same as holding onto your boyfriend’s fingers in times of need. 

It’s cold in the room, you note once more, but Yori’s body curled in Jungkook’s freezer is even colder. 

Would he let her thaw before burying her? Would he burn her somewhere in the woods? Dump her in a lake? Would he admire her beauty first and brush his fingers down her cold cheeks, feeling pitiful about the woman who humiliated you just because she was carrying a child? 

You shake your head, watching the laptop come to life. You need a distraction. Any kind of distraction to forget that your boyfriend and Yori might be alone in a room right now as if they’re on a little date.

The cramp twisting your innards isn’t caused by panic this time. It’s jealousy. 

… 

Taehyung is exhausted to the marrow of his bones. If he didn’t consider Jungkook to be his only family left, he would never have flown to South Korea on such short notice. It’s expensive to leave clients on hold when he’s spending a fortune every month lining bribery pockets. He hopes Jungkook is prepared to work without pay for the next month. Judging by how eager the younger man is to see him, he decided to cut him some slack in the end. That’s what families do. 

Right now, Taehyung is only annoyed to find out that his partner – who had already left the refrigerated room – brought his least favorite pliers when he asked her to lay the tools on the table next to the body. The pliers are black but coppered with rust and prone to slips with its slippery silicone padding resting where his gloved fingers would go. He doesn’t even know when or how he came across such an awful tool but he’ll have to make do. 

He turns back to Jungkook who is sitting on a plastic-covered stool across him on the other side of the body, brows scrunched together as he looks down at the nude woman’s slightly protruding but stiff stomach. There’s no sense of discomfort on his face; a good sign, Taehyung notes, as it has been some time since Jungkook has dealt with a body. Yet he finds himself uncomfortable when looking down at the vicious woman he’d heard an earful about. It’s not a good omen to cut open a pregnant woman, not when Jungkook has been preparing for parenthood ever since he dumped your birth control down the toilet. 

“Are you sure it’s wise to leave her alone?”

Jungkook scratches behind his ears, watching Taehyung’s fingers pry open Yori’s frozen mouth to reach her teeth. The older man places a balled cloth inside the mouth before lining the plier towards the molars, gripping the frozen teeth between the iron clamps before yanking the tool to one side. The tooth pops out with a crisp snap, leaving a deep black hole in Yori’s pale gums. Freezing her made cleaning extremely easy – Taehyung can’t help but pat himself in the back when Jungkook seemed to remember all that he’s taught him about the work. He is, however, a bit disgusted that the body was kept in the same fridge as food. Hell, even an experienced butcher like himself has some decency not to do such a thing.  

“I think it’s fine,” Jungkook murmurs, watching Taehyung’s sturdy hands yank each tooth out of her gums with razor-sharp precision. “She’s been sleeping better than the first week so I don’t think she’ll be awake by the time I get back.”

“She’s not like us,” Taehyung scolds, his baritone voice low. A puff of smoke dissipates in the cool air as he speaks. The younger man lowers his head; there should be a limit to the favors he ask for and he’d crossed professional boundaries one too many times. “It’s a big risk you’re taking.”

Jungkook juts his lower lip out like a child filled with remorse. “I know, hyung. But...I trust her and she trusts me. Or else we wouldn’t have gotten this far.”

Taehyung hums at that, finding it rather odd that a girl with a fine upbringing had the guts to do cleaning work (poorly as expected, according to Jimin showing up with the rest of his crew to spot-clean the rest).

“Trust can be an expensive thing, Jungkook.”

Desperate to appease the older man, Jungkook snaps his gloves in place and reaches over to take an electric saw in his hand, watching the silver glimmer under the lights before standing. He waits until Taehyung finishes the removal, placing the teeth neatly in a plastic cup, before lining the blades to Yori’s pale neck and quickly sawing down her esophagus. The saw groans as it hits her spine but with Taehyung’s palms pushing the saw down further, Yori’s head comes apart clean from the rest of her torso. Under the sharp blue lights her insides look tar black. Such a pretty exterior holding such ugliness inside of her, Jungkook thinks, before he shakes the thought away.

Her beauty can never be compared to you. You’re a goddess. And her? A mere insect to put back into the earth. Yori had caused you immense pain and he would see to it that she will be treated with utmost disrespect.  

“What’s your plan after this?”

Jungkook moves the woman’s hair away from her face then removes the cloth from inside her mouth. He then pushes her jaw up to cover her black gums. 

“I’m going to try to convince her to leave work for a while. Hopefully...she’ll be pregnant by then and it’ll make it easier for her to marry me.”

Taehyung nods. “Then?”

“T-Then…” Jungkook nibbles on his lower lip. Something about Taehyung’s gaze makes his insides queasy and he doesn’t know whether it’s because the older man is upset or just exhausted. With a poker face like his, with eyes that sink deeper than an eternal labyrinth, it’s difficult to tell. He settles on the most comfortable answer. “Then we’ll live like a normal family. Maybe after she gives birth we can buy a house instead and live near the sea like we used to.”

It’s not a definite answer, but it will do for now. When you regain confidence that life will continue on as it always had, it should be smooth sailing from there. Namjoon or Jin have been a threat but once the baby comes they’ll know better than to approach you again.

Taehyung’s assistant comes back into the room with a soft smile. She glances down at the decapitated woman briefly before walking towards the incinerator in the far corner. Like clockwork she appears once there is a twenty minute time limit before the room reverts back to a comfortable temperature. Jungkook’s freezer preserved the body enough that they can pull apart Yori’s limbs and burn each piece separately; the burning will be handled by her but dismemberment is intimate, a family bonding type of activity that re-establishes their brotherhood.

“Are you happy you’ll have a family soon? Does it bring you joy?”

The younger man nods, lips trembling softly as he looks down at the severed head. His cold breath fans over Yori’s eyelids. “Yes, I am. Very. It’s all I ever wanted. ”

Taehyung stares. From the scar on the left cheek to the mole under his lips, he watches Jungkook as the younger man saws through the arms, letting the frozen limbs fall to the plastic-covered floor with a rustle and blunt thud. Once all four limbs are torn apart on the floor, he lines the saw down the navel just above the slight hill of Yori’s protruding belly. Just as he moves to switch on the saw, Taehyung grips his wrist with a tightness that alarms Jungkook.

They look at each other, truly look at each other in the darkness.

“Will you ever tell her the truth?”

Jungkook jaw tightens as he holds the older man’s gaze. His fingers are going numb, not from the cold but from the grip around his wrist.

The question causes him to chuckle incredulously. One small step and everything can fall apart like a house of cards. The risk he is taking burning someone closely associated with you can pull them both back into the times when they lived like rodents; hidden from light, at risk of being poisoned every step of the way out from the ground.

When Taehyung doesn’t mirror him, he falters. “…What use will it be if we tell her? She doesn’t have to know anything about me.”

“Is it because you’re afraid she’ll be hurt or afraid she might leave if you do?”

The reaction is immediate. Jungkook’s brows come together and he lays the saw on top of the torso, releasing a harsh exhale as he desperately pushes back tears. Taehyung expected the reaction; it’s what he was aiming for in the first place. The minute he walked in the room and saw Jungkook smiling happily in the distance he knew the boy has taken his delusions too far. He’s willing to oblige with the many ridiculous requests in helping him secure you as a wife, but he’s not a hopeless romantic. He doesn’t believe in soulmates and pure, perfect love that Jungkook pines for. There is only so much luck Jungkook can depend on before you stumble upon something you shouldn’t have. With a criminal bond, the stakes have never been higher.  

The boy takes his bottom lip under his teeth. “She won’t leave me.”

“Answer the question.”

“She loves me, okay? That’s all I need.”

He peels his arm away from Taehyung and brings both hands behind his head, burying his face in between the elbows. He turns away towards the concrete wall, his temples pounding from how hard his teeth are clenched. Couldn’t Taehyung just be happy for him? Couldn’t he take time away to celebrate this victorious night?

The reality is that two people who love each other may still never truly know each other. Just like how he doesn’t know the true reason why you wanted him as you watch him from the balcony in silence all those months ago, you won’t know why he can’t tell you everything about his upbringing. There’s no doubt that you would see his lies as betrayal, perhaps even worse than what Yori did because he made you believe he worshipped the ground you walked on (and it’s the truth). If you learned that the doe-eyed boyfriend part of him is dramatized, your heart will take irreversible damage. He had shown what it meant to be in love, to have a place where you both can call home, to care for each other through sickness and crime. He can’t ruin that illusion. Not when he’s this close to taking you away from everyone you’ve ever known.  

“The fire is ready.”

He brings his arms back down to his sides and turn towards the assistant who stands with her hands clasped in front of her as she looks between him and Taehyung.

When neither of them move, she kicks opens the incinerator and releases a waft of hot air towards the thawing body. Jungkook turns back to the body and kick the limbs towards the fire. He grabs Yori’s head by the hair and tosses it towards the limbs, wondering if you would still love him if you saw him now in a grimy lab coat, reeking of frozen flesh. You most likely won’t. You most likely will be disgusted with him, your eyes might resemble his mother’s, peering at him as if you couldn’t waste one more second breathing the same air as him.

“I’m scared,” he whispers at last, walking towards the torso on the table. He places his hand over the blood-stained stomach. The baby didn’t deserve this death, he thinks, but it would have ended up as miserable as he was when he was a child.

“I don’t know how not to be scared. That’s why I…I’m doing all of this for her. It’s why I still can’t tell her everything even if we’re tied together now. But…but I’m…we’re still men, right? We’re not monsters who do this for fun. We do this to protect the people we love.”

The older man puts his hand over Jungkook’s on the cold stomach and rubs his thumb over his knuckles. The younger man relaxes a bit more now that he understands Taehyung isn’t frustrated or upset that he put them all in danger, only concerned.  

Taehyung’s life’s purpose has been to protect this boy and now it’s Jungkook’s turn to protect the woman he’d fallen for. It’s all the more cruel that the woman Jungkook believes to be his soulmate came from wealth, from prestige, from a family that may be dysfunctional but more often than not normal. It pains him that he’s willing to live the rest of his life under a façade just to keep the illusion of a perfect romance alive. If only Taehyung could have convinced him that the beautiful couples in movies aren’t real, that the men in those movies are not like them and the women in those movies are not perfect little angels he think you are.

But that’s a battle Jungkook has chosen to fight and he could do nothing but support. That’s what families do.

“We’re not monsters,” Taehyung finally speaks at last as he walks towards the limbs and crouches down to the open incinerator. He brushes his long fingers along the metal edge, letting the tips of his fingers burn pink. His deep brown eyes reflect the orange hue of the fire yet his pupils welcomed no light. “But we’re damn close.”

…

Your skin prickles with goosebumps as you gulp down the remaining ice cold water from the fridge, laying your forehead on the door handle. It’s unbearably hot and cold at once and you’re growing impatient as the minutes tick by and you’re still alone.

It doesn’t take long to bury a body, does it? Jungkook never specified what he was going to do. Maybe the reason why it’s taking too long is because he’s driving far into the woods but your heart pangs in worry at the thought of a witness catching sight of him hunched over with a shovel. He seemed confident when he left (in your sleepy haze you don’t remember clearly) that the thought went away as quickly as it came. Your boyfriend can be meticulous; there’s a high chance that he’s taking extra precautions. He probably isn’t calling because he assumes you’re still asleep. He’d tucked you in and kissed you on the forehead, only murmuring something about being back soon and bringing back breakfast.

You set the glass down in the sink and walk past the kitchen counter, halting in your steps when you find your purse laying haphazardly next to the fruit basket. It’s been there since the police came and the contents of your wallet and keys threaten to tip over into the basket. You pull the undone zipper apart, rummaging around the inside to straighten the sides until your nails click against the uncapped flash drive. It makes your insides quiver when you realize you had been opening the files when your mother called during that day and the world crumbled. Oh how blissful you would be standing here if you never picked up the call, if you let her deal with her own problems, if the guilt of her being alone and scared didn’t affect your tender heart. The worry that Seokjin had written a love letter seemed rather insignificant now that your boyfriend can be taken away in cuffs if evidence surfaces. The tabloids would have another field day for sure.

You turn towards the digital clock on the stove, noting the time once more, and grasp the flash drive in your hands before making your way towards the living room. The flash drive blinks green as you slide the silver end into your computer propped on the coffee table. The laptop will keep you sane because you know damn well if you see Namjoon’s face on the television once more you’d spiral into panic. It’s not wise to speak of his name under your roof.

It’s not wise to speak of Seokjin’s name either, but if Jungkook isn’t coming anytime soon, the least you can do is read what your old friend has to say and be rid of this little tool in case your boyfriend’s curiosity leads to a temper tantrum.

Once again, the document window reveals a ZIP folder along with an array of photo files. You extract the file first, letting it load before double clicking to pull up the document window. It’s not what you’re expecting. There’s no sweet words and no mention of Seokjin’s name on the page. The document is over two hundred pages long and still loading as you scroll down the pages. There is a case number in the middle of the first page and then several police reports from several years ago, all dated within the same year.

Busan.

Two victims.

Two suspects.

Juvenile.

With your brows furrowed, you scroll further down the file, slowly falling back down to earth from the blanket of mental exhaustion. You feel a cold breeze down the curve of your spine, your fingertips slowly coaxing the cursor downwards. Several sentences are censored or cut in the corners. The further you scroll the more you find yourself asking if Seokjin had given you the wrong flash drive or if he was pulling a vicious prank on you. It all seemed like a whirlwind of information you don’t know how to translate until you pause on a page halfway through the document.

Kim Taehyung.

The name is most definitely familiar. The second name listed in the following page, however, you recognize in entirety.  

Jeon Jungkook.

The universe must be playing a sick joke, you think, as your cursor swims around your boyfriend’s name. He would have told you about an incident big enough for a case report that spans over a hundred pages, wouldn’t he? Jungkook wouldn’t hide anything important from you, not after he had urged you to be transparent with him. Not after he had punished you for something as silly as keeping jewelry gifted by or ex or forgetting to wear a brassiere in public. Something in your gut tells you to keep scrolling despite your vision beginning to blur and the air around you becoming heavier as if you’re breathing over a pot of boiling water.

You scroll further down, lips parting as your eyes scan over the document with record speed. The Jeon family massacre, the shack in Busan, the weapons used on the bodies for both murder and disposal – everything is written in clear detail. But it’s impossible, you think, as Jungkook has never once hinted that his parents were deceased. In fact, there were several times when he welcomed the idea of you meeting his family. He wouldn’t have agreed with enthusiasm if he had to reveal the details of this case, would he?

He wouldn’t have his mother’s number saved. It doesn’t make sense and the more you wonder who that woman could be in his cell phone, the more your insides twist.

When you hit the last hundred pages the censorship worsened. Most of the pages are illegible with black boxes shadowing over sentences but you don’t need the missing sentences. The last five pages summarized the timeline of the incident and highlighted possible motives from abuse to undiagnosed mental disorders for both Jungkook and Taehyung. You’re not sure if the file is even reliable considering what you’re reading and the boyfriend you’re living with seem like two different people.

There is hardly any record about the two of them except the elementary, middle, and high school they’ve attended. The paragraphs blur together as you scroll with trembling fingers. Something about Jungkook’s instability, his codependency on Kim Taehyung, the manner in which he was released shortly after Taehyung’s escape from the facility despite facing juvenile charges for second degree murder.

Then, the details of the crime.

Jungkook couldn’t do something like that, could he? Your lungs ache as you pant, a sudden sob leading you to clasp a shaky hand over your mouth. There is no reason for you to claim this case as unreliable when Jungkook is disposing Yori’s body somewhere within the twenty mile radius. There is no reason this case is talking about another Jeon when the first thought your boyfriend had when you confessed your mother’s accident was to help with the cleaning.

This couldn’t be anyone else but Jeon Jungkook, the boyfriend who kisses you until you melt like butter in his arms and pouts whenever someone looks at you the wrong way. Despite the file in front of you, you shake your head.

“It’s not him…it can’t be him.”

Closing the file window, you take a deep breath before opening the image file next to the folder. The first few photos were of the crime scene and your blood turns cold at the disfigured corpses in the room. The room is dirty with peeling wallpaper, blood splatter, broken furniture, and schoolbooks and papers. The couple in the picture is your boyfriend’s parents, there’s no doubt about it. You can see the resemblance in what remains of his father’s face and you wonder if that’s the reason why he never felt comfortable in his skin, as he once told you during pillowtalk.

With your core tightened, bracing for the worst, you open the last image. There is Jungkook, in the flesh, pictured with a uniform and handcuffs, eyes blacker than your morning coffee. His face is littered with bruises and the corner of his lips are swollen, caked with dried blood. The purple and green bruises stretch over his eye socket, reaching far back to his temples where his hair falls. Somehow the fact that his mother had abused him didn’t register in your mind until now. It feels somewhat far away, like a distant memory that has no effect on the person he is now. But Jungkook didn’t become the sensitive and hardworking man you know now because of sheer willpower; he was forced into the role.

He did what he had to do to survive and you know deep in your heart you can’t hate him for it. You can’t justify murder, but you can’t ignore that he was desperate to leave.

You place a trembling hand over your heart and lean back into the couch.

Either way you look at it, one thing remains true. Jeon Jungkook had spun lies upon lies to be in your life. He had successfully kept you in the dark, hardly ever showing how truly dangerous he can be until the time is right. His anger has been, at times, loving and sweet. Other times, it spurred fear. He had promised you time and time again he would never hurt you. Yet, that promise holds no substance when he doesn’t practice his own standards for loyalty and truthfulness that he instilled in you.

There’s the Jungkook from Busan who showed no remorse for what he did and there’s the Jungkook who held your heels in his hands as he led you to safety from that fateful wedding night. Burying your head in your hands, you fist the roots of your hair until your scalp burned.

You’ve been sleeping with a stranger.

…

The precinct is a large, block building next to the subway station that would be invisible if it were not for the newly painted gray-blue gates set around the perimeter of the building. There is a group of photographers huddled against the gates despite the very late hours of the night, sporting the same black padded coats as they tumble over each other like penguins. When Namjoon steps out of the building and into the Mercedes parked in front of the building, the camera shutters click. Reporters shouts his name for a statement. He merely glances at the crowd before stepping into the vehicle, adjusting his coat before slamming the door shut. 

The crowd of reporters part as the vehicle makes its way down the concrete path to the streets. There are no officers in sight to control the crowd, prompting him to watch in silence as they knock on the tinted glass and the side of the car. His chauffeur would seem unbothered if not for the whiteness of his knuckles as he grips the steering wheel, stepping on the gas with urgency while being careful to not anger the hungry journalists desperate for next morning’s cover story. 

He can understand Lee’s anxiety as they drive towards one of his apartments in the city with higher security. He has been in a state of paralysis ever since he landed and was immediately brought into questioning. The handcuffs at the airport wasn’t necessary, he thinks, and he’s convinced some of these cops must be journalists in disguise, blaming him for a crime he had no knowledge of. Aside from such inconveniencies, there are other problems to address such as the dent in his parents’ pocket to keep the media from prying too much into the investigation. He’d faced his father’s wrath earlier before his first shot of whiskey, and then his mother’s who cried on his shoulder as she was too relieved to see him walking freely. He doesn’t understand why people are surprised that he isn’t the culprit when there is so little evidence against him. The precinct wanted to make an example out of him, about how the rich aren’t safe from persecution; however, they fail to consider that the rich aren’t always guilty with whatever they are accused of either. It’s been an exhausting last few weeks to face the same mob of cameras before, during, and after the questioning. They must know by now that Yori’s disappearance was as surprising to him as it is for everyone else.  

There is no end to the investigation – especially when they are set on finding evidence that it was premeditated - and his exhaustion reached its peak this morning when he realizes today was the day the baby is due. Yori wasn’t fond of motherhood – unbeknownst to outsiders who only saw her poised nature – and neither was he. But he had made an oath that he would be there for the child at least financially if not emotionally and would provide the necessities while he legalize their marriage and transfer abroad for work. He swore to not touch a single drop of alcohol when the first cry of his child reaches his ears yet here he is, pouring himself a drink from the mini fridge assembled between the seats.  

“Where do you think she is?” He asks, then takes a shot of straight vodka. This was one of many times he despised how poised he can be when the situation is dire. His lawyers had advised him to be emotional, but he can’t bring himself to put on an award-winning act when he’s one sleepless night away from a coma.

The older man glances at the rearview mirror, lips setting in a thin line as he eyes the bottle in Namjoon’s hand. 

“I’m unsure, sir. The police and your father has been searching in all of the places she could possibly be. I’m sure they will find her soon.”

“Dead or alive?”

The car jolts to a stop at the red light. “Sir?”

“It’s been a week. She hasn’t called, there’s no activity from her bank account, no money taken from the house, and no report of her fleeing the country. She left her belongings behind, including her cellphone and a coat during this weather. The investigation is only ongoing because there’s data from security that she let someone in at night and the back gates were open. The surveillance in the main roads nearby didn’t pick up any suspicious cars either. Now tell me…do you think she’s dead or alive?”

Lee presses on the gas pedal and sighs, staring straight ahead at the roads but unable to focus on any of the signs. 

“I don’t think I can answer that question, sir. Please forgive me.”

Namjoon takes another shot and turns his head towards the cars passing by him. There was no money taken, which concludes that the culprit’s motive had nothing to do with financial gain. It must be the reason why he’s under suspicion.

“Perhaps…” Lee speaks again, his careful eyes meeting Namjoon’s apathetic ones through the rearview mirror. “Perhaps _____ might be able to help with finding Miss Kim. She was very close to her. Maybe she knows a few locations we’ve missed.”

He considers the offer for a moment, knowing that the detectives had reached out to you for more information at the same time of his questioning. It’s true you were Yori’s closest friend for most of your life. Until last year, you talked to her on the phone several times a week and shared a meal with her at least once a week in your former apartment. You invited her to all social events and dressed, shopped, and spent quality time together. It would be a wise choice to call you in such a catastrophic time. He does, however, understand that you would be reluctant to involve yourself in the investigation for you had started a new life with this new boyfriend of yours and had distanced yourself from even Seokjin himself. Not even your mother knew about what you were up to on most days. 

Nonetheless, the situation is too severe to preserve his own pride as well as yours. Yori is with child and there’s still a morsel of a chance that she – and the baby – is safe. You may have changed in the last several months, but if there was one thing he’s still sure about you, it’s your willingness to set aside differences to help others. 

He hopes you would take the call once he musters the courage to dial your number. Maybe he’ll call Seokjin instead if he has a change of heart.

“I’ll consider it.” Namjoon nods as Lee nods back, slightly relieved. 

For the second time in his life, Namjoon is terrified of losing someone close. He had watched you, white chiffon and silk in your hand, as you ran out of the lobby and his life forever. He hoped that he can do right and bring Yori and his child back to safety and make sure – this time – to cherish what he has rather than what he’d lost.

Knocking the last shot of vodka, he leans his head back against the plush leather upholstery and closes his eyes, hoping more than anything to be taken out of his misery. 

…

They say a woman’s intuition doesn’t lie.

You’re thankful that it’s too late in the night and too early in the morning for your neighbors to hear the ding of the elevator as you make your way down the building. You didn’t bother dressing, merely grabbing your purse with the flashdrive tucked safely in one of its compartments on the way out. You’re still wearing Jungkook’s shirt as a dress and you slid into the first pair of sandals you can find through the burning tears. You’re not sure how you’re supposed to feel in the haze of betrayal but there’s a sense of humiliation that comes with finding out you were lied to – perhaps laughed at behind your back – for months. It’s the same feeling as that wedding night, but a million times worse now that you’ve reached the end of no return.

Even if you call Seokjin and urge him to help, there’s nothing you can do to change that you’re an accomplice. There’s nothing you can do to change that a sick part of you enjoyed scrubbing blood off the floors, fucking your dirtied boyfriend afterwards, and pretending life will continue as normal.

Furthermore, there’s nothing you can do to change that you’re still utterly in love with Jungkook.

It can’t all be a lie, can it? The reason why he chased after you, jumped over fences to bury his nose in your intimates, and carve your skin isn’t because he’s using you, right? There’s only so much pretending a person can do. Deep in your heart, you feel that Jungkook does really love you. You wouldn’t feel this safe with him, even after knowing he had done something irreversible in his childhood, if his tenderness towards you isn’t genuine.

Yet, you’re also acutely aware of how much money your family has. You know how many valuable assets you have under your name after your father’s passing. You know how easily you can change your life at any given moment if you choose to meet your mother’s expectations in marrying into a conglomerate family and living without worrying about money. The reason why Jungkook helped you during that wedding night can be because he had the opportunity to be with someone who can offer him financial security he didn’t have growing up. Maybe he was attracted to how easygoing your life is, only having to worry about which restaurant you want to pick for date night, unlike his formative years surviving on scraps.

You’re also pathetic, desperate, unloved. It was too easy for Jungkook to charm his way into your life in a moment of vulnerability. He must’ve known you came from money just by the size of the venue and how much you offered to pay him for his photography services. He must’ve known how naïve you were when you were willing to sleep in his arms that night, how willingly you swallowed the painkiller he gave you.

Even then, it doesn’t make sense. He owned a studio. He bought you gifts and took offense when you denied his offer to help pay for things only married couples do. He gifted you flowers every week and take you out to beautiful places when you were sad, never thinking twice about putting down his last dime if that’s what it took to see you smile. He’s patient and empathetic. He’s kind because he understands the pain of being hurt by the ones you love but he can also be kind because staying with you is convenient.

And you don’t want to be the convenient woman. Not anymore.

…

Jungkook’s phone vibrates in the back of his pocket, prompting him to remove his gloves and throw them in the fire with the rest of the corpse. The assistant is asleep on the couch, unaccustomed to night cleaning when Taehyung keeps her in charge during the day. Taehyung, on the other hand, slides his sanitized tools back in the slouchy leather bag, turning his head towards the fire when the alcohol from Jungkook’s gloves reawaken the fire for a moment.

Jungkook reaches behind him and fishes the phone from his pocket to see the notification from a security sensor. His stomach drops when the notification loads, the buffering swirl of the loading screen feeling eerily similar to the swirling aches in his stomach. He’s relieved that there are no police cars in front of the garage, but the relief is short lived as his eyes land on your car instead, the door to the driver’s seat left open.

He quickly switches to the cameras from the inside, pointed directly at the front door to see a figure walking through. He watches as you stumble inside, falling on your hands and knees as you tumble into the boxes of books and accessories he kept near the front steps. He haven’t had the chance to throw them back in the garage when Jimin and his team took away the freezer and left behind a mess.

“What’s wrong?” Taehyung comes next to him, peering down at the phone. He watches in silence as Jungkook’s hand trembles.

He watches you grab onto the nearest table and pull yourself up from the ground before switching on the lights. And it was the sight of your swollen eyes, your bloodied knees, and your heaving breaths that had him running out of the room, grabbing the car keys and jacket from the hooks next to the door. The thought that someone might have hurt you set his head into flames. Taehyung’s assistant wakes with a slight gasp the moment Jungkook slams the door open into the bright reception desk area of a run-down funeral home. The walls vibrate.

“I’ll come with you,” is all Taehyung says as they fly out front door. His assistant would know what to do without him.

Taehyung takes the keys from his grasp and starts the car, stepping on the gas without hesitation as Jungkook buries his face in his hands and fold over in the passenger seat. He reaches over and runs his fingers through Jungkook’s hair, cursing underneath his breath. The younger man takes a moment to collect himself before his shaky fingers unlocks his phone once more, the loading screen causing him to bounce his knees as he waits. Even Taehyung’s comforting hand does nothing to soothe the panic rising up his esophagus.

“S-She’s going in the dark room,” he huffs as he keeps his eyes locked on his screen. “I don’t…d-don’t know why she-”

“We’ll figure it out when we get there.”

There are no cameras in the dark room, not even ones he can hide inside everyday objects.

In half the time it usually takes to get to the studio, Taehyung steers the vehicle into the familiar neighborhood, head swinging left and right to check if anyone else is nearby. Before he parks outside the garage, Jungkook undoes his seatbelt and steps out of the moving vehicle, running towards the front doorsteps. His shoulder crashes into the front door as he twirls his head around the studio, checking to see if he missed anything. He sees your handbag on the floor, the sliding doors to the darkroom remaining closed.

You’re inside there, hurt, bleeding, needing him. He should’ve stayed behind with you and let Taehyung take care of Yori; it wasn’t necessary for him to be there, but he didn’t want to be seen as ungrateful after asking for numerous favors.

Taehyung steps inside the studio and closes the front door behind him as Jungkook slides the darkroom doors open and step inside, sliding the wood back into place behind him. He steadies his breathing and takes a few seconds to adjust his eyes to the dark red bulbs above him. When he hears a crunch he looks down to see numerous photos of you underneath his soles, entire binders and broken photo frames laying across the concrete floors.  

Jungkook steadies himself with one hand on the wall, lining the perimeter of the room until he can spot your hunched figure in front of the metal cabinets. Your shoulders are shaking, hand patting around the inside of the of the cabinet, knocking over medication, empty film canisters, and stationery.

“Noona?”

You gasp, your hand flying to cover your mouth in the semi-darkness. The bottle of pills in your hand clatters to the floor, rolling towards Jungkook’s boots. Your back slams into the cabinet behind, eyes wide with fright as your tears roll down your face. He keeps his eyes on you as he kneels and takes the bottle in his hands, briefly looking down at the transparent bottle before looking back up at you.

“What’s going on? Why are you crying?” He asks, panting as he strides towards you with outstretched arms.

In the midst of your anger you fail to realize someone like Jungkook would have taken extra steps to track where you are. You didn’t even check if the car or phone is bugged. Even during this time you’re still stupid, you think. No wonder it’s easy for men to lie to your face with that kind of carelessness.

You shake your head, backing away from him. “Don’t.”

His eyes brim with tears as you clutch your chest, your body trembling. Jungkook shakes his head, holding his bare hands in front of him to show he won’t touch you. You look at those hands – the hands that have caressed your cheeks in the morning, massaged your shoulders after long work hours, buried your old best friend – like they were weapons.  

“I-I don’t understand,” he breathes, his hands trembling as his eyes rake over the scattered pictures on the floor, the open cabinet doors, and at your tattered appearance. You’re still dressed in his button down shirt, the material falling mid-thigh and he catches a glimpse of dried blood on your knees from your fall.

“I thought it was strange. How calm you were about all this. I t-thought…” you put your hands together over your heart, your chest shaking with sobs. He can hardly make out your words from the tears and the sound felt so painful to his ears he wanted to smother you, put his hands over your mouth, and keep you locked in his arms tight.

Your teeth clatters, not because you’re cold, Jungkook knows, but because you’re scared. Of him.

“Noona,” he whimpers again as he waits for your sobs to subside. He struggles to understand.

With the heel of your palm you wipe away the tears but the more you rub the worse it gets until you feel as if your face would drown under your own ministrations. The gut-wrenching pain you felt reading his report lingers in the depths of your stomach, churned into fear that there is a possibility you could end up just like them. How could you even know if his tears are real? How could you even know if the last few months of your relationship was even real?

“You never loved me, Jungkook. You…this is just some sick fantasy of yours, r-right?” Your voice breaks. You don’t understand what’s coming out of your mouth when the only thing you wanted to do was hurt him. Make him feel the way you do now. “Making me fall for you. Believe I can earn your dead parents’ approval. Making me your fucking doll. You got off on me being a naïve little bitch, didn’t you? You sick fuck.”

You know.

Oh god, you know.

Jungkook feels as if someone had wrapped a rope around his neck and pulled. Is it punishment for wanting happiness? Is it because he was bound to this endless life of suffering where the people he loved end up hurting him in the end? End up leaving?

Jungkook shakes his head, mouth falling open as he watches you back away from him into the corner. His sobs are loud and pained as if you had hit him across the cheeks. With every step he takes towards you, you take one step back, as if to say you don’t want him near, you don’t want him to touch you, as if you don’t even want him to look at you with those seemingly innocent eyes.

“You lied to me,” your voice reduces down to a whimper. “You promised me you’d never do that. Did you intend to keep this from me forever?”

“N-Noona…”

He falls to his knees, putting his hands together in prayer as he sobs. Through your anguish and his, Jungkook still holds your heart captive.

Like a dam bursting, his apologies engulfs you.

“Noona, I’m sorry! I-I-I didn’t know how to t-tell you,” he gasps for air, putting his hands down in front of him in surrender. He puts his forehead against the cold concrete, clasping his hands together in prayer, writhing, withering. “I swear, it wasn’t me! I didn’t w-want you to think I was a mu- murd-derer,” he hiccups, coughing as his hunched figure trembles. 

Backing away until your shoulder blades lean against the adjacent walls, your body slides down, the phone from your grip clattering onto the floor. The screen brightens with the image of you and him as Jungkook’s trembling figure creeps closer, crawling towards your feet in the darkness. You can’t feel your teeth gnawing on your thumb until you taste blood in your mouth. You watch your boyfriend’s cold hands wrap around your ankles as he puts his forehead onto your calves and begs.

“I love you, noona. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I love you so much. Please don’t hate me noona, please, I don’t know what I’ll do if you hate me. I’m sorry I l-lied to you, I swear I was going to tell you everything soon, noona. W-Whatever you saw is all wrong. I never killed them, I l-loved them with all my heart,” he surrounds your folded legs in his embrace, leaning his wet cheeks against your scraped knees as he sobs. “They hurt me. They m-made me like this, I didn’t want to be like this noona, I ju-just wanted someone to love me. I didn’t mean to b-be bad-“ His clammy hands presses your calves together, keeping your knees still.

Jungkook’s head raises, slowly, his soft dark locks falling from his face. His doe eyes aren’t focused on you but on some invisible spot on the ground. He whimpers your name before doubling over and hurling vomit onto the ends of your shirt, his head slamming into the cabinet next to you. The stench of bile wafts towards your face but you’re given no chance to move when Jungkook gags and empties his stomach once more, acidic saliva slipping down the corner of his mouth as he sobs.

With no warning whatsoever, he brings his head back and slams the side of his head against the metal cabinet doors. You’re frozen stiff, your body trembling as you watch the love of your life knock his head into the doors again and again, drool dripping down his mouth.

When he wails, you reach for him. “K-Kook-”

He brings his head back, eyes glazed, as he rams his head into the metal sheet again. And again.

“I-I’m sorry noona,” he cries, etching the words into his skull. “Noona I’m sorry…I-I didn’t meant to hurt you nng, noona…I won’t…”

With shaky limbs you crawl closer to your boyfriend, pulling him by the collar to stop but the panic causes your shaky hands to slip, merely finding success in pushing him towards the ground. He coughs, gasping for air. When his wails become louder, you hover above his writhing figure, hands on his arms to keep him still in desperation. It’s no use when he continues to apologize, not hearing your pleas to stop, to listen to your voice and breathe. Seeing him like this makes you want to take back your words.

The door to the darkroom slams open, revealing a tall man whose face you can’t see until he steps further into the red hue. You weren’t aware Jungkook didn’t come alone.

He must be Kim Taehyung; there’s no mistake from the stained lab coat he adorns to the tar black eyes that could bore holes through your skull. He looks awfully similar to Jungkook and if you hadn’t read the case and hadn’t known that Jungkook was an only child, you would think they’re brothers.

“Move.” He commands, the edge in his voice causing you to flinch back as he crouches above your blubbering boyfriend’s head and scoop him from under the armpits.

He’s strong enough to uncurl Jungkook’s shaking body, hushing the cries as he places your boyfriend’s face under his chin and press him against his chest. Like a child, Jungkook’s hand reaches up to fist the lapels of Taehyung’s lab coat, sobbing so hard that you were afraid his lungs might burst.

“Hyung is here, Jungkookie. I’m here. She’s here too, okay? We won’t leave you. Hush now.”

Taehyung’s voice is deep but filled with warmth, completely different from all the times you’ve overheard him speak through a call in your living room.

“I-I’m so-sorry noona, I won’t do it again- n-noona-,” he coughs.

The older man reaches inside his coat and fishes out a syringe. He cover Jungkook’s eyes with his long fingers, whispers a word of reassurance, before pressing the needle deep into Jungkook’s arm.

In a few short seconds, the cries lower, Jungkook’s body falling limp against the older man’s chest as your name falls repeatedly from his swollen lips. Taehyung places the syringe in his pocket and wipes the vomit and saliva from Jungkook’s chin with his thumb, his eyes sad as he peers at the boy in his arms.

The sound of water dripping down the faucet seems as loud as fireworks in the silence of the room. With your arms wrapped around yourself, knees pressed against your chest, you watch Taehyung brush away Jungkook’s sweat-soaked hair and wipe away the snot and tears on his nose and cheeks with the sleeves of his coat. Once his face is dry, he props Jungkook against the cabinet and stands to face the faucet, gathering a handful of water in his hands and cleaning Jungkook’s forehead where a bruise is starting to form.

“How did you find out?”

The tethered anger in his voice causes you to curl into the corner, making yourself as small as possible. You don’t forget that Taehyung is the reason why they are both free men; the man is every bit terrifying as he is handsome.

“A-A friend of mine…he showed me.”

Taehyung hums, knowing exactly who had caused tonight’s troubles, wiping his hands on his coat. He takes several strides and crouch down in front of you, glancing at Jungkook’s face before turning back. He stares into your eyes without commenting and you’re not sure where to look. You settle on looking down at your scraped knees, the trembling causing your voice to shake.

“Are you disgusted?”

You meet his eyes, biting the insides of your cheeks. “D-Disgusted…no. Not disgusted. I’m just…scared…s-scared of what he did.”

He exhales, his long fingers coming up to massage his temples.

“I killed them.” He blinks. He nods shortly afterwards, as if he were reliving the moment. “Jungkook was simply there. They were going to kill him. It was me who did everything you saw in those photos.”

You swallow, eyes brimming with tears as your body warms in response. Your boyfriend is innocent. Maybe not completely, but enough that you can release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Okay.” You murmur, nodding. You’re not sure what the proper response is for that kind of confession.

“There are some people who don’t deserve to be parents. His mother, especially. You would be surprised how happy he became when we had no more family.”

You nod, keeping your eyes lowered. Your eyes fall to your cellphone near Taehyung’s shoes, your lips parting.

“T-Then…he wasn’t adopted afterwards?”

Taehyung cocks his head. “Adopted?”

“I-it’s just,” you stammer, wondering if it would anger him if you asked but something tells you Taehyung is a reasonable man albeit his brutality. “There’s a co-contact in his phone…a-and he labeled her as ‘mother’…”

The older man nods. “We call her our mother. She helped us when we had nowhere to go, gave us a place to sleep.”

As if the weight from your shoulders melted away once more, you slump against the wall. Of course, Jungkook wouldn’t cheat on you with another woman.

Taehyung continues. “We did what we had to do. We learned how to make fake documents, little things like IDs, and it kept us afloat for a while. Jungkook prefers that kind of work still, but I don’t. You’ll never see a photographer making this kind of money without dabbling into…indecent practices. It’s expensive to feel secure, I’m sure you can at least relate to that.”

He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Do you understand the kind of life we had now?”

You nibble on your bottom lip. There’s no doubt you love Jungkook but the wound remains agape, the initial ugly feeling of betrayal swimming in your belly. You have the right to feel this way, but Taehyung is rather unconcerned about your feelings. If you weren’t loved by Jungkook, he would have stuck the barrel of his gun down your throat and threaten to blow out your organs out the other end. He’ll be patient this time and let nature takes its course; there’s a possibility you’re pregnant. You won’t be able to leave now, and you won’t be able to leave once you carry the baby to full term.

“I do,” you answer, the trembling gone.

You glance over at Jungkook’s sleeping form. Despite how hurt you may be now, you need to be there for him. You can’t imagine how sick he would feel, how much panic he would feel, when he wakes.

“I’m glad you do. After all,” Taehyung stands. “You’re not completely innocent either.”

Your head snaps up to meet his gaze.

He knows about Yori.

“Did you…?”

He confirms your thoughts. “I did. There’s no need to worry unless you talk, and if you know what’s good for you, you won’t.”

You release a shaky breath. “Okay.”

You’ve reached a dead end. You can’t amend your mistakes like good people, sane people, do. You’re as good as married to Jeon Jungkook, Yori’s burial being the glue tying you to him in holy matrimony. You have no choice but to vow to protect and love him in sickness and health. In all honestly, you can’t imagine your life any other way.

Taehyung brushes invisible dust off his coat.

“There is one more thing,” he says and with new conviction you meet his gaze once more. “If by any chance you do something stupid, I will kill you. And Jungkook can’t stop me then. Remember that.”

…

Seokjin follows the scent of a cigarette. It’s hardly half past six in the morning and the wind makes him push his head down as he maneuvers through the trees to the abandoned park. The playground he played in as a child is torn down, the blue slides and yellow swings torn apart by ongoing construction. Between the trees and industrial machinery he struggles to find his former co-worker and friend who had messaged him quite suddenly about the investigation on Jungkook. It’s something big, he says, and Hoseok doesn’t say something like that unless he means it. And if it’s bigger than the case file, then it’s bound to be something incriminating. He wasn’t sure if Yoongi might be here too, but he doubt it since the man can hardly drag himself out of bed in the morning.

It’s a little odd that Hoseok asked to meet immediately and he wonders if it was because he responded as soon as he received the text. Maybe if he had answered later in the day he could sleep in before work, but with Yori’s disappearance his nights have been filled with thoughts about you. Some fresh air would serve him well.

“Hoseok?!” He turns his head left and right, huffing as he struggle to catch his footing on the uneven cobblestone paths.

When he hear footsteps near the playground he turns his head towards the noise, blinking as he struggles to make out the figure of a person on the ground. She must be homeless, he thinks, as he watches her wrap her tattered scarf around her neck while wailing in a strange, kitten-like voice. She mutters something to herself in another language.

He takes a step closer, calling out to the plump woman as she stretches a leg out in front of her and fans her hand over what looks like a bloody wound. The gash is deep enough for him to stop in his tracks.

“Ma’am are you alright?” He asks.

His phone rings in his coat pocket and he reaches inside, looking down at Namjoon’s number displayed across the screen before locking his phone. Seems like he’s quite in demand this morning. He tucks the device back into his coat and walks over to the woman.

“Ma’am?”

She looks up at him, her mud-caked face and hair crumbling as she whimpers and move her bloody leg away from his sight.

“Do you need help standing?” He asks, closing in on her rocking figure. It’s not safe for a woman – much less a homeless woman – to be alone and injured. The park hardly garners enough visitors for its awkward location. He might be her only help.

“N-no…n-no…no,” the woman holds her leg away, wailing as she rocks from side to side.

Seokjin hovers next to the woman, folding over to gauge the extent of her injuries when his eyes trails over the thin red paint covering from the bottom of her knee to the middle of her calves. She babbles and wails, flailing her arms over the leg until a silver glint flashes over his eyes and air is knocked out of his lungs. When he opens his eyes and groans, he’s facing the cloudless sky, his vision flashing purple and black. He curses and turns to his side only to come face to face with a pair of black shoes.

He doesn’t raise his chin. Rather, he’s not given the choice, not when he feels the barrel of a gun pressed upon his noggin. The sound of bullet entering its chamber sounds from behind and he realizes quickly that he’s been set up.

“Kim Taehyung,” he wheezes, sputtering as he catches his breath. The gun behind him trails up his spine until it’s pressing into the back of his skull. He doesn’t know who that woman his, but he knows for sure the man standing in front of him can’t be anyone else but Taehyung.

In his paralysis he can hardly think of how Taehyung was able to use Hoseok’s number to meet him at a place only he and Hoseok investigated. The last time he spoke to him, Hoseok had only warned that he couldn’t continue the investigation, that Kim Taehyung had formally requested him to quit meddling, and ended the call shortly after. Surely Taehyung couldn’t have done something to the man in Hong Kong? He couldn’t think of a reason why someone who isn’t even related to Jungkook by blood will go through such lengths to protect him.

“Didn’t I tell you not to meddle in my affairs?”

He nods, exhaling. “You d-did.”

The gun from behind slides from his skull to his temple.

“You should have listened the first time.”

[inupibaldspot]

Our Snowfall

Pairing: Baji x Reader

Request: OPEN

Note: I cried writing this I’m in so much pain rn 😭

Baji slowly opened the door,revealing room of white color, with faint sent of medicines and anti-septic's.

Earlier he was playing catch with Mikey outside, but Mikey wanting to show off threw the ball too hard making the ball zoom across the sky as it breaks the window to a hospital room.

Baji was about to shout at Mikey only to find the blonde boy had disappeared without a trace. And now Baji was on a mission to get his ball back.

“I’m sorry for breaking your window.” Baji bows his head from the door.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Baji blinked in confusion. The voice was that of a young child and not an adult like he was expecting. He raises his head to see a small figure ,who looked really weak.

The person smiled. “The ball is on the table there. It would be best if you left before nurse comes back.”

Baji nods as he walks in and takes the ball. He notices that the broken glasses pieces were already picked up and clean.

Baji turns to look at you. “My name is Baji Keisuke. What is yours?”

Your lips curl into a weak smile. “My name is Y/N…”

Baji walks towards you. “Are you sick,Y/N?” His expression was somewhat worried.

You nod. “I’ve been here forever.” You laugh. “Mama told me I can’t go outside because I get sick easily so I stay at the hospital so Mr. Doctor can help me…”

Baji frowned. He was always an active kid who spend most of his time playing around so when he heard that you don’t get to go outside,it made him sad. “Is it okay if I visit you sometime.”

Your eyes widens as color appears on your cheeks,you then smiled brightly. “I would love that!”

True to his words,Baji immediately visited you the next day.

Ever since Baji entered your life,your life has been full of colors. Baji would always talk about how he spend his day,he would talk about his friends and all the crazy thing they would do.

He would always visit you,never making you feel lonely. Along the way he even introduced some of his friends. First he brought Mikey along and then the next Mitsuya and Pachin.

You were scared at first when Baji said they were in gangs but when you got to know them,they were just dorks,lovable and funny dorks.

“I heard this time we are going to have a white Christmas.” You said as you looked outside.

Baji who was cutting apples for you, stopped as he looks at you. “Are you going to be with your parents?”

You shook your head. “Both my mom and dad are going to be busy with work so they said we can’t celebrate it with me this time.”

You smiled as you turned to look at Baji. “But the nurses said they’re going to set up a Christmas tree so I’m excited!”

Baji looks at how your eyes brightened when you talked about the Christmas tree. You looked so happy talking about and that made you seem so much beautiful.

“I’m sure it would look so pretty-“ Your words came to a halt when you started coughing. The coughing never seemed to die down making Baji rush to your side and when it finally did,there were blood in your hands. He looked at you in horror but you didn’t seem to panic,rather you looked as if you were think ‘Not this again.’ As if this happened regularly.

“I’ll get the doctor real quick!” With that he rushes away.

…….

To your dismay the Christmas tree was smaller than expected but nevertheless you enjoyed the cake your parents ordered for you,you ended up eating them with the grandma next door.

Maybe it was because you weren’t with Baji today,the day felt bit gloomier even-though it was such a joyous day. You missed Baji. 

Just when you were about to sleep,tiny knocks were heard at your door. “Psttt, Y/N.”

You look at the door confused. “Baji what are you doing here?”

Before you knew it,Baji makes you wear a thick jacket and cover your neck with a muffler not answering your question.The wide grin on his face perked your curiosity more.

He then kneels in front of you,his back facing you. “Get on!”

“Huh?”

Baji turns to you and he gives you a grin. “I’m going to show you a huge Christmas tree.”

Baji and you then sneak out of the hospital as he carries you to the main town. You gleam at how beautifully the place was decorated. The air outside was cold but it was so fresh, so much frsh as compared to the air in your hospital room.

“It started snowing!” You shouted excited as you raised one of you hand to try and hold it,only for it to melt as soon as it touches you. “The report was right! We’re having a white Christmas!” It was your first time actually being outside when it was snowing, normally you'd only watch the snow from inside.

Places were beautifully lit, decorated with lights filled with joyful atmosphere. Some with their family others on dates. As people start to stare at the sky taking in the entrance of the snow.

“We’re here!” Baji stops walking as he nudges his head at a particular direction.

There at a distance was a huge Christmas tree, decorated with fairy lights, colorful bulbs and small other decorations. “Wow…”

“Beautiful isn’t it-“ Baji stopped speaking as he looked at your expression. Your eyes gleamed as it shone,from all the lights, you nose and cheeks slightly flushed from cold but the most beautiful part was your smile.

You burrowed you face against Baji’s neck,making him feel ticklish but he didn’t mind it rather he love it. “Thank you Keisuke …” He could feel your breath against his neck.

“I’m so glad I could spend the Christmas with you…”

……

“I hate school!” Baji shouts as he messes his hair in frustration. “I don’t know why I have to study this bull shit!” Baji was currently in you room as he worked on his homework while you were reading a book. A pleasant way you guys would spend your time together. It has almost been two years since you guys met.

You laugh at Baji’s expression as you set down the book you were reading. “Come on now~ Don’t say that..I think school must be fun.”

Baji stops as he realizes what he did. You were someone who could never join school after multiple incidents of you passing out or getting rushed to hospitals when you were a kid.

You couldn’t experience school like he did. Baji huffs as he goes back to his books. “Fine… I’ll aim for twenty marks this time.”

“Twenty? That’s not even the pass mark.” You laugh at him. “How about you go for thirty at least.”

“Thats not the pass mark either, Y/N!“

You were about to say something when a sudden thought came into mind. “Keisuke … I actually was watching tv yesterday and I saw someone making a pumpkin themed cake…”

“So I thought I’d want to eat that but I don’t think I can complete it by myself. So how about you join me…?” Your cheeks flushed red.

You were basically asking him out on a date.Sure you guys spend time together alone but you never once made an offer like this to him. It has been months since you figured out you had feelings so Baji but you never really acted on it.

Since the thought of you getting rejected and in turn losing a beloved friend scared you to no end.

“Sure!” You turned your head quickly at his reply. Baji was smiling as well as he continued. “When would it be?”

You smile as you brought your hands together, excited. “I was thinking of October 31..”

“Ah… I don’t think I can join you then…” Baji replied regretfully. “How about November 1?”

“Sure!” As long as you could spend time with Baji, you were happy.

But then that day never came.

That day you waited for Baji to enter the room,with an untouched cake box on the table. The door opens to reveal Mikey,Draken and Mitsuya.

“Baji…Baji died during our fight against Valhalla …”

Would it be funny if you said you ate the cake while you cried? Probably,but that’s what you actually did. Stuffing you mouth with the soft creamy treat as tears pool you eyes.

Days after were as if a curtain closed closed your window, everything felt so much dim and it didn’t help that your condition seemed to worsen.

You were losing weight at an alarming rate,coughing up more blood at frequent rates. You grew increasingly weaker as you parents even took time off their jobs to nurse you.

But at certain nights you would wake up in tears,as you could barely breathe as you searched for Baji,hoping to see him with you in the room. “Keisuke…”

It was a peaceful winter evening ,the air was cold and places were quiet as white snow gently falls in the ground.

People outside were looking and hoping that the snow would set properly. Kids were already outside as they excitedly play out, parents in their homes were making food to warm themselves up.

“Stay with me Y/N!”

People were rushing all over the room as you dad hold your crying mom.

You head felt as if it was going to burst,a strong sense of nausea filled you. Everything you hear and see seemed so muffled and blur.

Despite you body feeling limp, it was twitching. You breathing which was rapid at first seemed to now slow down,accompanied with a strong aching pain.

Then suddenly all those suffering at once disappear.

You entered into a white place,as if each and every part was covered in snow.Your body felt light with no presence of pain that you were feeling just a second before.

 You walked around too see that in a distance was a very familiar person.A person who made you life so much brighter. A person who you enjoyed every moment spend with him. A person you loved.

That person turns around as he expression turns into a frown.

“Why did you join me so early?”

You smile as a tear rolls down your face. “I guess I missed you too much,Keisuke.”

[ask-healthy-light]

*green just sat on the table in the cafe*

The group from Ponyville, consisting of Twilight and Solar, Decaf, Rain, Cherry and Green, were sitting in the Centre's cafe, drinking some hot beverages, both to calm their nerves after the apparent incidents of the night, and to more easily pass the time at the Centre until the others arrived, after which they could wait to visit Celestia together.

After arriving at the Medical Centre, having followed Celestia and her entourage of guards, Eclipse and their group were told they would not be allowed to visit the Princess. The Doctor told them that, for one, Celestia needed her rest, and for two, that it was not yet a visiting hour at the Centre.

Moments after arriving at the Medical Centre, Decaf and Eclipse had sent off the scale Light had given her, imbued with a message, and they were currently waiting on the other group to arrive. It had been a while since they had last seen each other in person, though Eclipse and Light had had contact via written messages.

A little while later, Light and their group, consisting of Harvest, Caff, Banana, Violin and Princess Luna, arrived at the Medical Centre and asked to see Celestia, to which they received the same answer as Eclipse's group. The receptionist did point them towards the café, saying that another group asked to see the Solar Princess, and who were now having a drink, waiting until they can visit.

Moving towards the café, making sure they were not too loud as to not disturb others in the Centre, the groups met and exchanged greetings, as well as introductions; as Caff and Decaf embraced each other, not having seen their sister in a few days, Luna, Violin and Harvest met the Ponyville group as Green Apple was introduced to Light and their group. After ordering some drinks and small confections, everyone took a seat again and spent time talking amongst each other, waiting for time to pass.

Eclipse noticed Boom was not with Light and their group, and asked where he was and how he was doing. After looking at Luna, who gazed downwards with a disheartened and slightly aggravated look, Light explained that Boom was not around as he was the reason Celestia is in the Medical Centre recovering from her injuries. He had left a few days ago to get a gift for Light, and returned by falling on Celestia at the end of the Gala.

Shocked at this news, they asked Light what they were planning to do next, to which Light again had no answer. The only hint they had was the note Boom had left them in the Gardens after the fiasco at the Gala, which Light took to mean that they would have to wait for a message from him, both to receive the gift he had been speaking of for a long time, as well as find out where he went off to, or where he was now.

Putting aside Boom's business, time flew by for the group, the evening turning to night and heading to morning, as they barely noticed time tick by while they were enjoying time with their friends. As the morning was approaching, and Celestia was unable to raise the sun, Luna headed outside to attempt to raise the sun herself, something she had not often done before. Fortunately, the sun rose without many issues, though Luna was more exhausted than usual because of it.

After Luna came back inside and had time to drink some water and rest a bit, a Doctor came to the café, telling the group that Celestia was awake and that they could visit her, but only with a few folks at a time. Luna stepped forward and asked Eclipse and Light to accompany her, while the rest of the group stayed in the cafe.

After telling the group they wouldn't be long, Luna, Eclipse and Light followed the Doctor to Celestia's room. Before entering, Luna stopped before the door and said:

'When I find the one that did this, he will rue the day he ever met me and dared to hurt my sister.'

Light gently took Luna's hoof and promised her they never wanted this to happen, and they would make sure that Boom would be held accountable for his actions.

(Thanks for reading! Please feel free to send a question or a thought you had! And if you enjoyed, please reblog! Thanks in advance!)

Send an ask! | Start at the beginning! | Next part!

Featuring: Banana Pie from @askbananapie Solar Eclipse and Twilight Sparkle as Twilight Eclipse from @asktwilighteclipse Boomlord from @thedumbguywithaheart43 Caff and Decaf from @askcaffeinehazard Violin Sunrise from @ask-violinsunrise Light Rain, Cherry Cream and Green Apple from @ask-light-rain-and-buds Harvest Duran from @duran301

[along-came-atsushi]

Parallels between 55 Minutes and Dead Apple

While reading 55 Minutes a while ago, I realized that its story and Dead Apple had some interesting parallels or shared the same ideas.

Looking at certain scenes in the Dead Apple novel, some parallels became even more apparent. Sometimes, even the same or similar words were used.

I don’t think there is a deeper meaning behind this honestly, but I find it interesting to point out nonetheless.

  [Side Note: 55 Minutes was released in 2016, while the novel for the Dead Apple movie was released in 2018. 55 Minutes was written by Asagiri Kafka, while he only collaborated with others for the story of Dead Apple. The novel itself was written by Hiro Iwahata.]

Beware: Major spoilers for 55 Minutes and Dead Apple!

  1.  Weapon or abilities described as red heat or red sphere

55 Minutes: The main threat is a weapon called “The Shell” that upon activating, covers Standard Island and Yokohama in a red heat wave, vaporizing all life:

The sky was dyed red. […] Red. Everything was red—the ocean, the island, even Yokohama at the other end of the horizon.

.

“That’s the Shell.” The terrorist briskly walked over to Atsushi. “The crimson celestial sphere of annihilation.”

.

The crimson dome burned like a small star that had fallen upon the earth with an extraordinary amount of heat locked inside. The fiery enclosure rapidly imploded. The heat rushing towards its core.

  Dead Apple: Abilities collected by Shibusawa are described as red crystals. Upon merging two abilities together by Dazai, they turn into a red apple/sphere:

The two lights melted into one and spun until they formed a single sphere. They had produced a single apple—a juicy, poisoned apple red as blood. […]

The apple swelled as it absorbed numerous crystals until the red light became hotter than the surface of hell.

.

A hellish red light radiated as a violent wind gusted from the giant sphere.

  -> After this Shibusawa gets “killed” by Fyodor, turns into a dragon and releases a red fog that is about to cover the whole earth and turn it into the so-called dead apple.

   2. Allusion to Odasaku and Ango

55 Minutes: It’s been revealed that the Colonel who wanted to activate The Shell was the former mentor of Gide, the leader of Mimic. By activating The Shell, he wanted to state an example and for the truth about Mimic to be revealed. He blames himself for not being able to stop his former subordinates back then. Dazai remembers the Mimic Incident and with it, of course, the painful memories of Odasaku and Ango:

“You won’t find anything,” Dazai suddenly said while turning his gaze out the window. “The Division made sure to completely cover it up. You won’t find any records of their [Mimic] deaths, nor will you even find a single photo accidentally taken of them […]. The Division is good at jobs like that, after all.” […]

But Dazai didn’t say a word as he stared at a point in the sky with an elbow resting on the table. It was as if his eyes weren’t focused on the scenery outside, but were watching vivid memories playing back in his mind.

“I feel bad for the colonel, but there’s no reason to dig up the past and disclose to the public what happened to them,” Dazai revealed in a flat voice. “They died satisfied. Now is their time to rest.”

  -> Even though Ango and Odasaku aren’t directly mentioned, it’s still clear from the context and Dazai’s reaction.

  Dead Apple: Dazai visits the Bar Lupin, the former usual meeting point of him and his two friends:

He was in his usual spot—the seat next to Odasaku’s—and he was talking to the empty space next to him as if Odasaku were still here.

“What’ll we toast to today?”

“You’re not gonna wait for Ango to get here?”

Dazai could practically hear his friend’s voice.

.

That used to be routine, but now it was all in the past—never to return.

“…Ango isn’t coming,” Dazai replied to Odasaku’s casual remark from years ago. So many things had changed since then. Odasaku was no longer by his side, and Ango didn’t come to this pub anymore. Dazai sat at the counter alone. He was waiting for no one.

  -> Apparently these memories are still so vivid to Dazai that he can play them like a movie in his head, as it is described in both scenes.

   3. Ability/Ability User that is able to absorb other abilities

55 Minutes: Verne’s ability “The Mysterious Island” is revealed to absorb every ability from all the people who have died there. After his own ability took over Verne and transformed into its own lifeform, Gab is still able to do the same:

It was an extremely rare skill. Its range extended across the island he claimed as his domain, and it absorbed all the skills of the people who died there.

.

Well’s skill wouldn’t allow the same person to return to the past more than once, but if Verne used his skill to keep stealing hers, he would always be using the skill for the first time.

  Dead Apple: Shibusawa collects user’s abilities, once they die in a fight against them, which is similar to absorbing abilities, even though the technique is a little bit different:

“Each one of these is a skill, huh?” Dazai muttered coldly as he looked at the wall. “That’s a huge collection you got yourself.”

.

The apple appeared in Dazai’s hand and gently rose to the ceiling before stopping. It birthed a skill—an extremely powerful one at that—the ability to absorb.

.

In other words, Shibusawa was finally able to obtain Dazai’s skill through killing him.

   4. Dazai gets stabbed from behind by the main antagonist

55 Minutes: Dazai gets stabbed by Gab:

Dazai froze as if the rest of his sentence had been plucked clean off. And the tip of a blade was now sticking out of his chest. […] Dazai tried to turn around, but whoever was behind him pushed the knife deeper inside him and twisted it. […] With his arm stuck out, he turned slightly to the side before folding and crumpling to the ground.

  Dead Apple: Dazai gets stabbed by Shibusawa:

Right as Dazai reached for the massive photosphere […] something struck him in the back. […] His eyes opened wide. He could feel a burning pin shoot through his chest. [...]

Standing behind him was Tatsuhiko Shibusawa, […] In his hand was a knife that glowed dully as it pierced Dazai’s back. […] Dazai then collapsed.

   5. Dazai as an obstacle for the main antagonist

55 Minutes: Gab needs to kill Dazai, so that he can’t nullify him with his skill:

Gab’s natural enemy—Dazai—worked at the detective agency. Dazai nullified all skills he touched. […] However, if Dazai was to touch flesh, he [Gab] would cease to exist. […]

For Gab, the threat of Dazai’s skill was equivalent to having a knife shoved into his throat. There was only one way to remove the threat—kill Dazai so that his skill wouldn’t activate.

  Dead Apple: Shibusawa kills Dazai not only to obtain his ability, but also because Dazai had been nullifying his fog:

“There is no next move. I already found the skill I was searching for.” Shibusawa lightly gestured to him with an open hand. “Yours.”

Shibusawa’s eyes gleefully lit up as he gazed down at Dazai on the floor. “From the very start. You were the only one I was after.”

.

Shibusawa’s fog had the power to separate skills from their owners. Up until now, Dazai’s skill had been nullifying its effect, but it stopped working the moment he died.

   6. Dazai sharing or revealing something about himself to Atsushi

55 Minutes: Dazai says why he wants to kill himself:

“Dazai,” Atsushi said from behind him, “why do you want to kill yourself?” Dazai turned around and looked at Atsushi. It was his usual smile − a cheerful smirk that made him impossible to read. Dazai slightly opened his eyes as if to say, “Oh yeah. I guess I haven’t told you yet.” He grinned and answered:

“Because I        .”

What did Dazai say that day? The more I try to remember, the further these distant memories sink into the glow of the evening sun.

  -> It’s unknown why Atsushi can’t remember Dazai’s answer. Maybe it was too shocking, maybe he simply just didn’t hear it properly. Maybe this whole conversation never happened and it was just a fever dream. For now, it is up to interpretation.

  Dead Apple: Dazai talks about Odasaku and admits he had killed during his mafia time:

“So…” Atsushi spoke up as Dazai idly daydreamed. “Was this someone you used to be in love with, or…?” […]

“…He was a friend of mine,” Dazai added quietly. […] “He’s the reason I quit the Port Mafia and joined the agency. I’d probably still be killing people for the mafia if it wasn’t for him.”

Atsushi was baffled. He had no idea whether that was true. What did Dazai mean by that? Curious, Atsushi turned around to face Dazai, but all he could see was his back.

  -> In both scenes it’s described as Atsushi standing behind Dazai or seeing his back, which could empathize that he can’t see through Dazai or be sure about his true feelings (and in addition every other character in-universe as well as the reader). Furthermore it could also symbolize that Dazai hides his true feelings. This is accompanied by an illustration in the novel. But there is also a scene in the manga where Atsushi thinks about the ADA members with Dazai’s back turned to him:

   7. Akutagawa as a guidance or motivator for Atsushi

55 Minutes: Atsushi and Akutagawa are both restrained by Gab’s ability and can’t move. Akutagawa already tried to break free, but his ability is physically too thin to cut through Gab’s.

Akutagawa then “kills” Atsushi in order to awaken his tiger power, since the latter doubts himself of being capable enough. Later he assists and assures Atsushi in defeating Gab:

“Tch. Akutagawa clicked his tongue. “Then it appears your fists are the only things that will work.”

He was right. Atsushi’s tiger fists would be big enough to land a blow. But as long as his arms were stuck… […] Atsushi used all the muscle he had to break free, but he still couldn’t pull his body out. He didn’t even budge.

.

“Do you understand that? There are things I can do that you cannot.” The wind howled. Akutagawa’s dark blade pierced Atsushi’s throat.

.

A tiger roared. Atsushi responded. […] His body went through an unworldly transformation. He had to move forward. If he didn’t understand, then he had to find out why. […]

“Good,” said a voice. “Now hurry. Do not waste my time, Man-Tiger.

.

But out of nowhere, a black fabric appeared underneath, stretching from the surface. It became a platform for him [Atsushi] to stand on and support his weight. Quietly looking up at Atsushi from the surface was Akutagawa. His gaze quietly said, “Finish it. Bring him peace.”

  Dead Apple: Akutagawa withholds information to Atsushi on purpose, about why he isn’t able to regain his ability despite having defeated it:

“You fool,” spewed Akutagawa. “Have you seriously not figured it out yet?!” […]

“Akutagawa!” Atsushi screamed in spite of himself. “What’s that supposed to mean?! Answer me!”

But Akutagawa didn’t look back. He simply disappeared into the fog as he headed toward the fortress.

Why…? Why…?! Why am I the only one who doesn’t get it?!

  -> Although it’s noteworthy that Kyouka does the same, with high probability for the same reasons (Atsushi having to figure it out by himself).

   8. Atsushi is forced to kill a dangerous, unnatural existence

This is very interesting in the way it’s been build up in both cases. First the antagonist is described as an existence that is not natural (1), then their motive gets explained (2), Atsushi shows up, saying why their actions are wrong or what he’s about to do (3), and then the deaths of the antagonists are described as some form of salvation (4):

55 Minutes:

(1) The island’s skill rid itself of Verne’s personality and robbed him of his flesh. That was when the living skill Gab was born.

.

(2) What made him different from Verne was his reason. The guardian of the island, Verne, wanted to save everyone. Gab, on the other hand, didn’t care whether people died.

.

(3) “But you can’t separate humans and their skills. The reason you want friends is nothing more than a reminder from when you once where human. […]”

.

(4) Right as his fist was about to connect…

------I owe ya one.

…he heard the young man’s [Verne] voice.

  -> The last stage (4) gets even more underlined with Akutagawa assuring Atsushi by saying “Bring him peace”, as cited above.

  Dead Apple:

(1) Tatsuhiko Shibusawa had been reborn as a skill-like life-form—a divine being that wielded the power of the dragon.

.

(2) But his wish was still the same. He wanted to drive Atsushi into a corner so he could experience even more pain and torture than he did six years ago. This was a natural conclusion for Shibusawa to reach, for he believed that life was at its strongest and most beautiful when it was being pushed over the edge.

.

(3) “Here to kill me again, Atsushi Nakajima?” asked Shibusawa. […]

“I’m just sending something back to where it belongs,” he replied.

.

(4) “…I understand everything now. I know why you’re here, why you appeared before me, and what his words truly meant. You are the angel who will save me…” 

  -> Even before turning into a dragon beast, Shibusawa was already an undead being, and thus an unnatural existence.

   9. Abilities are described as sentient beings or something that can turn against the user

55 Minutes: Gab separated himself from Verne and took over his body:

While traveling into the past, the skill got stronger, transformed, and eventually grew to have a will of its own.

.

However, Gab’s consciousness was less stable compared with humans.

  Dead Apple: Ability users have their abilities taken away and are forced to fight against them to get them back:

It was Kunikida’s skill, The Matchless Poet. […] He had a good idea how his skill was going to attack, seeing as it was part of him once. He also knew that, unlike his notebook, the phantom’s notebook had the word Compromise written on the cover. A copy of himself that didn’t follow ideals but made compromises was an abomination to Kunikida.

   Lastly, there is also the topic of Dazai set as a motivator for Atsushi and Akutagawa and their bickering about what is right or wrong in regards to him. But since that happens often between them, I didn’t include it here.

[aesterblaster]

Look Good For The Cameras

Kenyu x GN! Reader <Angst + Fluff>

notes: tw for mentions of stalking and other toxic fan behaviors (kenyu isnt the one doing it dw) and body image issues also this is an au where kenyu is a bit older and more into modeling and the fashion space than sports

Songs: Soap, Melanie Martinez // They're Only Human, Annapantsu and Caleb Hyles // Violent, carolesdaughter

Kenyu is not as carefree as he likes to come off. He's dealt with so many different people, he's come to suspect everyone of having some sort of..baggage. So when he got in a relationship with you he became even more subconsciously aware of press etc. He just doesn't want you under the same pressure to be perfect and the best that he is.

So when you want to go with him to some big time runway show he's modeling in he's hesitant. But god, you managed to convince him. You always joke that Yukimiya can't say no to you three times in a row, and it's completely true. As he's getting his makeup done, he starts to regret bringing you. He can already imagine some weirdo cameraman following him after the show and seeing you two together.

"Can you like, stop tensing your face?" the artist asks, obviously annoyed.

"Yeah. Sorry about that." Right. He needs to get his head in the game. Not stress out over things he can't control. He takes a deep breath, in, out. Kenyu is fine for the rest of the process but then he peaks out of the side stage and sees you talking with someone eerily familiar.

One of the biggest fashion bloggers on this side of Japan. Great. So much for wanting to keep you a secret from the public. As if she can sense someone looking at her she whips around and waves at Kenyu. Seeing him you wave too.

_Your POV_

Talking to Setsuko was strange. Even though she had a constant bright smile on her face and her makeup was on point, you felt like something was lurking beneath. Like a predator's beautiful camouflage. She asked all the right questions and in such a non invasive way. You just wanted to answer and not upset her.

You were grateful when you saw Kenyu for a moment. It helped calm your nerves.

"So, is that why you're here in the big shot front seats?" Setsuko asked, a small smirk replacing her wide grin. "Yuki finally has a partner! Heh, I can't believe it. Especially after-" She took a sip of water from her water bottle.

How the hell did she make even that look graceful? Now you understood why Kenyu didn't want you to come to a his gigs. Being surrounded by all this perfection was enough to give anyone self image issues.

"Especially after the whole stalking incident. Shame how often that type of thing happens." None of her lipstick came off on the bottle, it looked glossier than a waxed apple. She cracked a smile as if she knew you were sizing her up. "Oh! Has he not told you?" Before you could respond the show started. But it was hard to focus on it with Setsuka refusing to shut up in between outfits.

You could tell Kenyu was also nervous, but he was handling it well. And after what seemed like forever, the show was over. Of course you had to wait after the show. But, word spreads around real quick. One of the girls that screamed when your boyfriend walked onto the runway pointed at you and whispered to her friend as they walked out. Both were head to toe in designer brands. Your phone buzzed like crazy but you were, frankly, afraid to check it. You rushed to the bathroom.

People were in there too. Models to be exact, all of them slimmer and taller than you. Their presence filled the room, it was suffocating. The smell of perfume and the fancy tile didn't help either. These were the types of people Yukimiya worked with? One of them opened their mouth like they were going to say something but you rushed out before they could get a word in.

You closed your eyes, in...out. Kenyu would come out from behind stage any moment now, in his normal everyday wear and you two would go home and everything would be ok. Everything would be ok. You sat down in a chair near the stage.

But you can't relax, not yet. Something compelled you to turn around, so you did. And what you saw infuriated you. Kenyu was signing autographs, taking photos with fans and most importantly talking to Setsuko. Smiling like a fucking idiot. Deep down you knew this was all an act, but in that moment it was becoming hard to sift through what in him was fake and what wasn't. It was like seeing him through a fun house mirror, from the way he tilted his head and nodded empatheticaly when one fan started crying, to the way he giggled when another tried to sing for him.

He was so, so beloved. And who were you? The distance between you on your flimsy fold up chair and Yukimiya, almost completely surrounded by fans, materialized as a pit in your stomach. But who were you to judge him? You had fallen for his charm too, hadn't you?

This, you glaring and him signing away his name, lasted for around 5 more minutes before security finally came through and shooed the fashionistas away. The model, your boyfriend, finally noticed you staring a hole into the back of his head. He did a little wave pretending not to notice how upset you were. Then, subtly he nodded in the direction of your car and walked off.

Oh. You got it. He didn't want to be seen with you.

Of course you knew why, there were still creeps with cameras lurking around. But it still hurt, driving that sense that you didn't belong even deeper. Setsuko stopped you as you walked past her, you didn't even notice her cute nail polish before. "Hey, don't hurt him alright? He's a nice guy."

Yeah, like she would fucking know. Mentally you were coming up with all sorts of insults and painful ways for her to meet her end, but you only mustered a smile and responded. "I won't." Then you practically jogged to the exit. You opened the heavy door and felt a wave of night air hit you. God, that was refreshing.

It didn't take long for you to find the car. You got in wordlessly and slammed the door. Kenyu was already in the driver's seat, tapping away at the steering wheel. He opened his mouth- "No, no, no, just give me a minute please." He closed it in a grimace and started the car.

For the first few minutes of the ride back home, he looked shiny, beautiful. And then you started to notice his expression, a deep frown, his light red eyes reflecting the road in front of him. The way his nails were sanded down to hide the fact that he'd been biting them. How he was driving a bit faster than usual.

After a while, he couldn't stand the silence anymore. "I'm sorry you had to see that." he muttered so softly you thought you'd imagined his voice for a moment. He shook his head slightly, acting like you'd just witnessed a murder (and in a way the experience was just as horrific but in the opposite way, everything a bit too perfect). "You never have to do that again. I don't want you comparing yourself to people like.. like that." His voice changed now, to abject rage.

"You deserve to enjoy things ok? Every bit as much as the other people in the audience. And it doesn't have to be fashion shows, it could be a spontaneous trip, a bubble bath or some random coffee place...Just, don't let this convince you shouldn't be with me or something, ok?" He was at a red light now, so briefly he turned to look at you and your breath hitched. His gaze was filled with so much emotion you had no doubt he was being honest with you.

"Ok." you were practically crying by now. Letting all the emotion from that 2 hours in that stuffy shiny room flow out and maybe something else too, some other guilt for being with him when he had so many other options. He glanced at you, wishing he could reach over and hug you.

_Kenyu POV_

Yukimiya remembered vividly, how he'd cried after his first modeling gig when he tripped down some stairs (he got up but still). How many camera flashes went off. How that moment was probably still out there on the internet. When did he become desensitized to it? The ridicule and the praise, mixing together until it was a murky mess. When did he perfect it? That signature hollow smile and shallow laugh.

He glanced at you again, in all your flawed glory. Street lamps illuminating your quietly sobbing face, fists balled up in your lap, clothes stained with your tears. And he vowed to never mix you and this filthy work up again.

[imaginationmess]

TAKE MY HAND (ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE) [BAKUGOU KATSUKI X READER]; TWO

Bakugou Katsuki X Reader

AGED UP AU!

Summary: When you take on the burden to keep the ones living safe, which causes you to become a traitor, but you had to pick a decision, and it cost their trust in you. You reverted to your old violent self. Months later, you find yourself face to face with your old friends. They want you to help them because they know you can handle yourself in this current state of the world. They are still ignorant of the state the world is. They have no idea how more dangerous it has become.

“We are still fucking fighting and won’t stop fighting. If you fucking give up, we lose!”

BEFORE READING! PLEASE READ DISCLAIMER!

Previously Chapter ONE; Masterlist

Chapter TWO

Word Count: 1,600+

Spoiler Alert for Anime watchers: There will be mention of Midoirya’s new quirks that haven’t been introduced in the anime.

Once the four of them have taken a shower and had time to discuss with each other weighing the pros and cons of trusting you. You did have a good record of keeping up with your promises before the incident where you betrayed all of their trust. It’s a tie between trusting you or not trusting you over a deal.

They are gonna reconsider the vote about it, later at night. They are all curious how you became a Mafia boss from just an original teenager who wanted to become a hero. To only become a cold killer and making a name for yourself years later.

They only have heard stories and rumors of the alias you go by.

Glitch.

A masked individual who is widely known for their cold,calculated mind and a heartless killer who didn’t care who gets caught in the crossfire. A leader who rapidly climbing up the ladder in the mafia world during the time of the apocalypse. A leader who became to hold more territory and killing off of other leaders to take their territory and expand their army.

A name alone made your enemies tremble in their boots.

They are hoping to get better judgment, seeing how things are run here.

The young boy that goes by the alias Speedy gave them a quick tour, but didn’t show the whole building due to being confidential from outsiders. He is just following orders. He was taking them to the cafeteria to grab something to eat to only notice where the children were eating all together were pointing at them. Most of them have eyes of admiration and pure awe looking at them.

“They are fans of you guys. They have seen the old video recording of previous sports festivals. We had to keep them somewhat entertained. Glitch got her hands on those old videos.” Speedy explains to continue to eat his soup.

The boys nod, understanding why the kids are so excited to see them in the flesh. It was weird, but somewhat comforting that the younger generation isn’t taught to hate heroes.

“I would keep those degrading comments of Miss Glitch to yourselves because the people who live here aren’t fans of heroes, much less of outsides. I heard you guys arguing earlier outside the room. You weren’t very quiet.” He looks at Bakugou in a way saying you are the loud one, before adding, “Everyone here would not agree on whatever image you decide to picture her.”

“Why wouldn’t they agree? Isn’t she a killer though?” Todoroki is just addressing the tension in the air. Midoriya and Kirishima choked on their food before coughing. They forgot Todoroki still struggles to read the social situations.

“Yes, she has killed many, but it is done to keep everyone safe. At the state of the world, it isn’t run by heroes who never got their hands dirty. It is run by killers because prison doesn’t exist. Who is gonna be the one to put those low lives underneath the ground? You guys never faced the true danger of the current state of the world. You are always protected just because you attend a prestigious school before the apocalypse hit.” Speedy spits out before taking a deep breath and just continues eating his food. His left hand was

“I apologized for his comment. We just have a history of them. It didn’t end on a good note. I know yo-.”

Speedy interrupts Midoriya by slams his spoon on the table before taking a deep breath to recollect himself.

“You don’t know any of our experiences. It was hell before Miss Glitch came to save us and took us in with no judgment. She taught us how to freaking survive by teaching us numerous tools such as self-defense and weapon handling. She never expected anything in return, unlike other mafia groups.”

The sound of a clap pauses the tension being created by five of them. The ex heroes in training look up to see meet the emotionless man covered with tattoos and scars. The same man who was within the room left to the minor from earlier. He placed a hand on top of Speedy head to ruffle his hair.

“Go ahead, eat with your sibling. Take a breather. I will take over making sure these little shits behave.” He removes his hand from his head before taking a seat beside the teenager.

“But-” Speedy was hesitant on leaving his position.

“It’s an order. Spend time with your sibling. Enjoy the night off.” The older man takes out a red apple from his pocket. Speedy stares at the four outside and gives a quick nod before taking his leave.

Bakugou Katsuki was staring at the man with suspicion as if he saw him before this mission. He wasn’t the only one who was thought so. Midoriya recalls those same tattoos, but it must have been a long time ago. He couldn’t easily recall. They were eating quietly until they finished.

“Let’s start ny introducing myself. I am Daichi. I am usually the one who runs this base when Miss Glitch isn’t present. It must have been your lucky day because you would have been tortured to death for trespassing.” The hairs behind their neck rise and getting goosebumps.

They sense malicious by the way he is sounding. Midoriya’s danger senses were activating and going crazy causing him to want to step away from him. It takes him back to when All For One and Stain’s presence.

Daichi’s yellow eyes stare at every one of them as he takes out a pocket knife directs it at Midoriya who was sitting in front of him. “The only reason you four are alive and even getting treated with special treatment is because of Miss Glitch. Step out of line, I wouldn’t hesitate to beat the shit of you wannabe heroes. That’s the only thing. I am allowed to do.” He swiftly put his pocket knife after cutting his apple into six pieces which fall on the napkin. He claps his hands together cutting through the tension for him to drop the act to replace it with a fake smile.

“Anyways comes to my question. What did you talk about with the young boy making them lose their composure?”

He was oblivious enjoying tormenting these wannabe heroes.

_______________________________________

Meanwhile, inside the hero’s refuge base where there is a tall metal barrier that runs underneath 20 feet underground.

There was a young man with black hair with his signature scarf, looking at a map looking where to travel to get more food and other resources. They are running out of places to investigate. The last 2 locations were a complete bust. It has been cleaned out completely. He is one of the leaders of the camp where they have stayed safe since the beginning of the apocalypse.

There was a knock on the wall, before someone coming in through the curtains. They pull a chair across from him, before taking a seat. They are twirling it around for them to rest their arms on the top of the chair.

“Aizawa, I can’t believe you took my suggestion seriously.” The young male with the purple bed hair as if he just rolled out of bed, comments. He has a small scar above his eyebrow. He has a few scars on his arms that have grown muscular.

“It was insane, but not outside of the possibilities.” Aizawa laid back in his chair and stares at his former student who is now somewhat a version copy of himself when it comes to fighting styles.

“Do you tell the trio? Whom they are gonna be meeting?” The purple-haired questions, not seeing they would be willing to see a former classmate that so-called became a traitor in their eyes.

“No. They wouldn’t be willing to do it despite us being a tight spot right now when it comes to resources.” Aizawa answers, before ruffling his hair and keeping his eyes closed. He is stressed out and not having a lot of options. They are running low on adults that were pro heroes. They have lost many throughout the apocalypse. Many of them abandon their original mission to save themselves.

The apocalypse revealed the true heroes who aren’t for the money. They are a good amount of pro heroes who got captured by mafia groups to have power. Some of them show over time randomly at their doorstep after being spared by the mask individual Glitch. That’s the only information they are allowed to share about their interaction with Glitch.

Aizawa and the other leaders of the camp believe the individual took them close enough for them to walk to their camp. Aizawa suspects it is one of his former students whom he didn’t have any contract  ever since the infamous incident. Majorly of his students calls them to be traitors.

“I still don’t get why we never told the truth about what actually happened that day.” The purple-haired male looks to the side to see Eri outside away from any harm playing with Kota.

“Hitoshi, It was a quick agreement exchange of keeping our mouths close and follow whatever story they want to make up. She swore to keep her word on securing your guys safe within her presence.” Aizawa applies pressure on his forehead to relieve the headache.

Aizawa remembering back to the U.A dorms where you are smiling and being a normal teenager. The image of that student whom he watched over for months became dark. She was no longer a child, but an emotionless shell of what she should be.

The lifeless eyes staring back at him, covered in bruises and blood that wasn’t her own. She was carrying unconscious Eri. You were bathed by your enemy’s blood. The remaining light of innocence in your eyes had vanished from existence. It only reveals just cold, calculated eyes that were staring at his soul.

“Aizawa.”

💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣

I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!

Any thoughts/Feelings/Predictions that you have while out reading this chapter.

I would love to hear them! <3

If you wish to be tagged, do comment down below.

[henqtic]

"𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘏𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘚𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘎𝘰𝘰𝘥 ”

Summary: Draco making you feel better about your hair insecurities throughout your years at Hogwarts.

Word Count: 3.7k+

A/N-hey well this is the first fic I’ve ever written and I don’t think it’s too good but please leave some feedback I would really appreciate it :) just looking forward to improving, this story includes a black/POC reader I just feel that there’s not a lot of stories that actually include us yk ? Because I don’t think I’m able to just put my hair up in a messy bun and go out lol.//ALSO there's no Voldemort and some of the years/dates will be off but I don’t think that matters much in this story:)

masterlist //  taglist form.

“It’s a toner” “for your hair”,she concluded in a way that was almost innocent but didn’t cover up the obvious amusement in her tone. Her box braids were flowing behind her, the two different colors blending together in a way to almost resemble Narcissa Malfoys. It was more of a Draco decision, he went on for months saying how if you got white hair you would look like an honorary Malfoy. Which he was already planning on making you sooner or later. 

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“Darling your fascination with these muggle products is getting out of hand. Are you ill? Oh merlin, maybe it’s that muggle flu,”he said as he put a hand on your forehead.

In his defense he was actually worried about you.You owled him with a note that read

Dear Draco,

I think I’ve just found the best bloody gift ever,I was just walking around one of those muggle stores and found i! I don’t want to ruin the surprise but the I just thought of you when I saw it.

love, y/n.

He honestly expected a bag of green apples that you two shared a liking of but never in a million years did he expect you to show up with purple bottle labeled as “Purple Shampoo”.And what hurt most is that he was the first person you thought of when you looked at it.Of course he was the only platinum blonde you had seen with such bright hair, other than Luna Lovegood. But he was still deciding on if he should take offense or not.

“No Draco, I’m perfectly fine” You stated as you stated his hand away like a fly.“I just think that your hair may need a bit of toning to it.” You said as you looked at your boyfriend, he really did look beautiful in the sun.

The way the sun would bounce off of his skin and hair giving him this sort of glow.The way he ever so slightly had his eyes squinted because he could barely see when it was this bright outside.He was really a sight to see.He wore a faint smile that made your stomach erupt with butterflies every time you saw him, even now.

You told him that if he continued to bully Harry on how his glasses made him look like Dumbledore without a beard would come back to him.And of course it did.

You were sitting beside Draco under a tree at his family's manor.The sky had a few clouds but nonetheless it was sunny there were butterflies flying around and  variations of colors of flowers all around you.You had helped Narcissa plant some of the flowers and it was nice to see how it all came out.

 “I think my hair looks perfectly fine, why would I want to “tone it” He looked at you as if you had personally insulted his mother.

“Draco, darling, your hair is almost brighter than the sun” you said and you were so close to bursting out in laughter.

He looked at you faking an offended expression.

“Most likely stiffer than the grass we’re sitting on at this moment” 

“oh that’s enough” at that moment he shifted his weight over to you and started to tickle you non stop.

“Please I’m sorry I take back all of my words” you said in out of breath tone.Your laugh was probably the best sound to him.

He continued with his antics, “say my hair is the most beautiful this world” it wasn't even a second thought to him to follow up with a,“other than yours of course” he always had a way of making you feel appreciated for the multiple ways you did your hair through out your school years and even now.

Fourth Year

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In the summer before your fourth year at hogwarts,you had decided that you wanted to try something new and get locs. It was something you always thought of but never really got the courage to do.

You always would just tell yourself “I think I’d miss my hair, even if doing it is a pain I’ll never stop loving it.”

That changed.Of course you’d missed your hair but getting locs, something you've been anticipating for a long time sounded a bit more exciting than doing your hair everyday.

It was finally the Gryffindor vs Slytherin quidditch game.Everyone had been looking forward to this.Every Slytherin, Gryffindor game always involved some sort of drama and it was the best.That day was nice up until it was completely and utterly ruined.

When the game was over Pansy Parkinson had shouted out to you and Angelina Johnson that your hair looked of worms.Angelina Johnson was probably the only Gryffindor you could put up with.Maybe it was because of the fact that she was an older black girl with her natural hair out and you desperately wanted tips on how to make yours look like hers.You and Angelina had quickly became friends in your first and her third year.She was more of a sister figure for you and when she went on about how nice Fred looked this year and the next you went on about how annoyingly hot Draco got third year She had teased you endlessly for it but you really couldn’t help it.

You didn’t know why it hurt so much coming from her but when that happened you were so close to crying.You were going to say something until Ginny Weasley said some very choice words to Pansy that left her as red as a tomato and she ran of the pitch.For someone with so much bark she absolutely no bight after that, you thanked Ginny and she responded with saying “There’s no reason to thank me Parkinson needed someone to finally give it to her” She then went up to Harry Potter and said he did good in the game.

“I don’t know if she knows her crush on him is obvious” You thought as you and Angelia walked back to the castle together planning on how to get Pansy back.

You heard the girl beside you try to stop a laugh from coming out so you just assumed you said that out loud.as always.

”Do you know what she has against you?”Angelina asked 

Even though Pansy was in your house she never much liked you for some reason.

“I think it’s from first year when I slapped her hand off of my hair.” You laughed “She was playing with the beads as if they were some kind of toy”

“She absolutely deserved it!” Angelia responded with a laugh.

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Much to you and Angelina’s dismay someone had gotten to Pansy before you.She ran into the great hall shrieking and when you looked the first thing that came to mind was low quality Medusa.Her long thin black hair now replaced with black worms.Everyone in the great hall was laughing at her condition.Even many of the Slytherins you were surrounded by, it was almost sad how her own house didn’t like her. almost.

Why would she even come into the great hall looking like that? You thought out loud on accident.You really needed to work on that.It wasn’t much of a problem though, because many of your pupils next to you nodded mindlessly at your statement in agreement.

You had guessed Angelina had told Fred about the incident, he told McGonagall, or as he said Minnie (you didn’t know how he even got to that level),and she must have informed the other teachers.

She ran out of the great hall when she noticed no one not even a teacher was going to help her.Not even her own head of house, it was nice to know that Snape was on your side on this you felt pretty bad now when in class all you thought about was how greasy his hair was and how you should probably anonymously drop off some shampoo for him.

“Hey maybe I should tell the twins about that one.Nope y/n you are a nice person who does nice things you thought as you tried to remove the voice that told you that’s Snape would mostly likely like some Muggle Brand “Head and Shoulders Shampoo” Although you’d never be caught dead using it, it could never hurt to try it on someone else.y/n stop.Nice thoughts.”Oh but imagine him trying to put his hair up and the hair tie is too greasy to ho-” You decided to turn your attention to something more valuable at that point.

The real question was who had done it.You turned over to the Gryffindor table.Your back had been facing Angelina’s.You two always did this seeing as many students at school didn’t know that touching someone’s hair randomly without even asking was weird.Angelina had found a solution saying “We should sit with our backs facing each other,Then no one from the other table can random tug at our hair.” You agreed to the idea saying that it was brilliant.

You asked with a giddy expression asking her “did you do it without me?” 

She shook her head and said “no maybe it was Fred or George”.

You would’ve thought that the girl was drugged up on love potion seeing how  easily she forgot what she was about to ask and looked at Fred with heart eyes going on about a completely different topic.

You rolled your eyes with a smile and looked around the great hall and your eyes landed on him.He was already looking at you.Your hair.You made the decision of adding gold accessories to it today. Angelina had had a long talk with you saying how “Parkinson was only jealous because the last remotely good hairstyle she had was the bob in your third year” You decided that you still wanted to add something to your hair to make yourself feel better.Not for the acceptance of the others and how they think your hair “should look”.

When he finally looked into your eyes you raised your eyebrows in expectance.You were almost waiting for him to say some sort of mean comment about you.

The truth was Draco was absolutely enthralled by you.He liked how when in first year you came into school with your hair in braids and beads of light brown, dark brown, and white beads.He liked when in second year you started to wear your hair out more often.The way it would always smell of Shea or Coconut.

But who was he to go up to a random person who barely knew him and say “oh your hair smells really nice”

He noticed how other kids would sometimes touch your hair and you obviously didn’t like that.You noticed that Draco wasn’t going to make some sort of mean comment you realized it was him who did it.You mouthed a “thank you” with a grateful smile and Draco nodded and smiled warmly.

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Weird thing is Draco probably gained his crush on you when he said saw that you two had both used an excessive amount of gel in your hair.

It was a dark time, second year, for you, and your hair, where slick backs were the only real things you knew how to do to style your hair.You wanted so badly to be like the other girls in your house who don’t even have to try with getting their hair up in the morning.Draco didn't mind though.

He liked when in third year you decided to wear your hair in an afro. He hated when he found you in a corner crying because some slytherin boys had said how your hair was “Worse than poor mudblood Grangers”.

Third Year

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He liked when he made up a story to his father and got the boys detention in the forbidden forest with Hagrid.He liked when he charmed a butterfly hair clip that he had charmed to flutter it's wings and left it on the outside of your dorm door.He had hoped none of your roommates would get to it before you did.

As he walked down the stairs and said in almost incoherent tone “They better not bloody get to it before her. What idiot would possibly think a flat golden butterfly clip y/n’s favorite animal was theirs? Merlin and who in their right mind would think that a baby blue box with the name y/n on it in golden letters was theirs?”

“Honestly” he scoffed as he continued down the steps he was met with Blaise Zambini’s wide grin.They walked side by side in silence until Blaise spoke up.

“Mate you’re absolutely whipped, sneaking to her dorm before she wakes up to drop off a clip?” He turned over to Draco and was met with a scowl that looked like it could kill.It didn’t phase him though and he continued with a wide grin.

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Blaise had known his friend had some infatuation with the girl ever since their second year when y/n passed by them and Draco leaned over and asked in an anxious tone,”Hey Blaise do ya think it'd be weird to tell someone their hair smells good”.

They had been working on finishing their potions essay and when he looked up he was met with a sight of his friends head in his hand as he admired you from across the common room.

Blaise obviously didn't want him to ruin his chance before he even got one, he smirked and answered with,”Mate.Yes.Don’t do that.” He looked over at Draco in a side eye way.Of course Draco didn’t notice he was too busy staring at you as you talked with Daphne Greengrass about with boy you think is the cutest at Hogwarts.He was trying to get closer to hear your response, in the process almost tipping over his ink. Blaise grabbed the ink swiftly and said in a stern tone ”I’m not kidding, that’d be bloody weird.”

“Right, it would be” he said in an almost dazed tone as he shook his head and went back to writing his potions essay.

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He liked you when you walked into the great hall ten minutes late with your group of friends.You had a slicked back ponytail with the clip right on the right side of it.

He liked you when he heard you say to your friends “Godric I’m telling you guys I love the person who gave me this clip” You said as you took the clip out your hair with a bright smile that in Draco’s opinion could make guy swoon “and get this the wings move, isn’t that brilliant?”

He was overjoyed that you seemed to enjoy the new presence of the butterfly clip.Blaise nudged him and widened his eyes.Draco finally got out of his daze and noticed you gave him a smile he quickly smiled back and looked down trying to hide the blush on his face as he looked down at his plate.

He could hear Blaise snickering on the side of him muttering something about “its sad you can’t just tell her already”

Fifth Year

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Draco was never the guy on the other end of the bullying but when Profferer Moody had transformed him into a ferret he was completely humiliated.He quickly responded with a harsh “My father will hear about this!”

That’s when he noticed you at the front of the crowd with almost tears in your eyes as you told McGonogall what happened.You really did always look perfect in his eyes.Your melanated skin was shining in the sun practically counting off the sun and that shimmering butterfly clip halfway flying around on your hair.Something about you just couldn’t stop Draco from looking admiring you.He decided to run and probably go hide somewhere from all of the humiliation.He was running so fast probably crying at this point over what happened that he couldn’t even hear some footsteps following him and few minutes later.

He was sitting down in some old nook in the castle crying of humiliation. Muttering words of “How dare he stick me down of all people bloody Crabbe’s pants” and “Godric in front of her too”.

He could barely hear the small and careful “Hi” you gave to him.

He quickly looked up with a harsh glare and when he noticed it was you his eyes softened and he responded with a small “Hey”.He then put his face back into his hands hoping that you would just go away. Even if he wanted you to stay.

“Merlin, she really is seeing me like this,” He thought.

He felt her sit by him and their legs practically touching.When she touched he flinched a bit at the contact.His father and mother did love him but his dad Lucius didn’t exactly show it through physical touch and he obviously couldn’t get his mum to come to the school and give him some kind of goodnight hug could he?

“Oh I’m sorry,I probably shouldn’t have done that,” She spoke in a rushed and apologetic tone as she started to move over to give him space.

“No you’re fine just not used to it is all” y/n felt herself saddened at those words and took it as an invitation to grab one of his hands and lace their fingers together.

At this point Draco felt like he was going to explode and even if his hands were wet from his tears he wasn’t about to pull his hand away.”Um, Draco, I just wanted to say that Moody had no right doing that” “Teachers aren’t even aloud to that here, even though you were coming after potter no one deserves that.

“Thanks for coming to comfort me, it really erm, means a lot from you” He said as he looked down at your hands the paleness of his and the brown tones of your contrasting against each other. The sight really did make his stomach erupt with butterflies but all Draco could come up with was he felt sick but a good sick.The girl he liked didn’t laugh at him when he got turned into a bloody ferret and she actually took the time to check up on him. That was enough for him.

“I’m happy it does” you said as you looked foward with a small content smile.They sat in a comfortable silence for a few seconds before y/n spoke “If it means anything,I think you make an adorable ferret” y/n said with a small laugh.Draco let out a breathy laugh and before he could even think he blurted out “Your hair smells really nice” 

Really Draco he thought you get her to sit next. to you, hold your hand, and you told her hair smells good?? Why can’t we just listen to Blaise Godric wha-” His racing thoughts were interrupted by y/n.

“Oh-Um well thank you” She responded with a small nod and a content smile and she knew this was the time.She turned to the boy beside her and said “you were the ones to get those boys detention for me right”

Draco looked up at her for the first time since she sat down eyes red and wide.He became a rambling mess and started to awkwardly state, “Well erm y-you know I just thought they deserved it b-becau-”

“And I’m also assuming you’re the one to give this clip?” She interrupted with the brightest smile her and Draco now looking at each other.

“Well erm-yes” he said meekly. He was still holding your hand resisting the urge to look down at them forever.

“How’d you know?” You said eagerly. Draco looked at you a bit confused until you said “How’d you know that a butterfly is my favorite animal?” 

Draco started to gain some confidence and said “Well I had been having a bloody crush on you since first year so I thought it was only appropriate to know your favorite animal at least ” He hadn’t noticed what he had just revealed as he continued to tell y/n things.“I’m really sorry about the hair comment too” He rambled “It's just that I've been waiting to get that compliment in since second year.” He mumbled in a way that was almost too low to hear then spoke up,“Blaise told me it was rather odd and that I shouldn’t tell you th-” 

That’s when he noticed her face.As if he hadn’t been admiring her for the past five years of his school life.She wore a look that was giving off all different kinds of emotions but the one that was mainly seen was happiness and appreciation.

“Godric no” y/n breathed out “I think that’s the best sort of compliment I could get” Draco looked at her brightly then she continued “and well” She started looking down at their entangled hands “I’ve liked you for a long time too” “If you wanted to know” She looked up at him and he was in a sort of shock? It was like he was waiting for her to say “only joking” and run away like one of the weasels.but she didn’t.

“Draco” She said in a singsong tone as she waved a hand in front of his now almost red face.

“Merlin” he breathed out with the brightest smile he could make “Well in that case IwaswonderingifyouwouldliketgotoHogsmeadewithme” He said in the fasted way he could ready to repeat it before she chirped back a quick, “Yes! Of Course!”

“I-” Draco started to repeat, “Wait you understood that?” He spoke back with an inquisitive look.

“I mean if you don’t want me to say yes-” She teased with a sly grin.

“No,I mean yes,I like that you like me and that you’re going to go to Hogsmeade with me,” he affirmed in a rushed manner. 

“Perfect!” She responded “How about we go clean you up then yea?”

“Right, that’ll be for the best,” he said with a small smile.

They shyly held hands the rest of the way walking to the prefects bathrooms and y/n helped clean up Draco. They finally talked with one another and Draco finally got the girl he was going after for five years.

Present Time

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅) 

“Fine fine alright” You sighed in defeat.

“Draco Malfoy your hair is THE most beautiful thing in this world.”

He had stop attacking you at this point and you two were in a criss cross position in front of each other, you were holding his face in both of your hands and the both of you were smiling like absolute idiots.

He looked at your with a grin that he was failing at trying to hide with a pointed expression.

You rolled your eyes and said “except for mine of course”

Draco Malfoy was by far the most dramatic person you’ve ever met in your life.

One day you were in a bookshop and told him that if he went to a muggle school he would be an spectacular theatre kid.Draco for some reason had taken that to great offense and went on saying how “his own bloody girlfriend doesn’t love him” and how “she thinks I’d be in some sort of theatrical arts like Pottah and his unruly ballet”

You honestly didn’t know if Draco was trying to be funny on purpose sometimes or if the things he said just flowed out like silk unlike his hair.

Now you sat under the big tree in the Malfoy Manor garden with Draco’s head on your lap, taking about how just because the conditioner is apple scented it doesn't make it any less bad for your hair.

A/N- hey lol, Anyways this is my first fic. I would really like any constructive criticism, anything you noticed off, or anything that you think needs improvements.I really haven't written anything non school related in a long time and I really want to get back into it :) 

Also it might just be me but if any one gave a comment on my hair and it included “your hair smells good” I would just dies on spot.maybe that's just me lol.Lastly, if you didn’t know I based using a bunch of gel in your in a second year off of myself lol so let’s just say my hair was not the best.Anyways have a good night or day <3

[muffindaddystyles]

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐔𝐋 (𝐈𝐈)

Authors Note: You'd have to read part (I) of young and beautiful for this one. Where Harry meets y/n, their beautiful future together after that incident, pregnant y/n, helping harry during the birth of their babies and most awfully heart floppin' dad!harry.

The door knob jiggles making your silent gasp drone into leeway around and your eyebrows rockets to your forehead when you find a gold fishy eyed Harry slippin' outta his shoes, two coffe cups, a brown bag and a lil white stuffed bunny clutched in his large hands. He gives you a weird eye 'yeh okay?' ones when you gnawed him with parted lips moreso from the fact your nose's clogged, shaking your head when he gives you another glance while puting things down on the marble coffee table infront.

"Thought I left yeh'?" His voice melfious of that of mornin' dew and when you nod confirming, he takes two strides towards you placing the back of his calloused soft hand against your forehead. His touch causing your breath to hitch unlike the last night when you were too sick to consider anything else.

"Could never darlin'. No' when you're like this. brought some donughts and caramel coffee, then ye'll 'ave your medicine."

 You peer up at him and he's already gazing down at you with a glint that's hard to catch. "Thank you Harry." Your voice comes out as a whisper, neitherless He smiles at you genuinely handing you the cup of coffee. His knuckles brushing your finger tips and you swear the nebula in your brain bursted to million stary dust particles.

After making you take your dose of medication he cleaned around quickly tripping onto your suit case which made you cackle sweetly and Harry's heart blossomed with flowers of new-found happiness. You're guilty of gate keeping him to yourself and at the same time you're seekin' comfort in his presence. Your arms falling in your lap when you tried to brush stubborn tangles of your hair with a huff and Harry offers you his help scooting behind you, his fingers carefully tugging the knots while he expertly brushed your hair. He braids your hair and all you could do's stare him from the tall mirror infront of the bed.

"You're so good at this, Harry." He giggles when she admires her braid with a shocked expression and giving a squeeze to your shoulders he stands up leaning down to take a look at some books scattered at the oak dinky desk.

"If we were villains, the night climbers, the raven." He mouths the name of books tracing the instrinsive letters carved onto it, "can I read one of 'em?" He asks politely and you bob your head.

"'Course y'could." He gets comfortable against the headrest and the pillows swallows you beside him. Your body's itching to snuggle into him. With hands under your head you watch him giving all his concentration, his eyes raking along each line, cherry lips murmuring the words and jaw ticking whenever he would lick the pad of his finger to turn the page around. Carelessly he slides his arm under your figure and you're gaping at him until he looks down at you and realizes what he has done. He tries to apologise but stops when you cuddles into him with a non-sexual moan. Three pages after you've litreally crawled up his torso like an insect but he's lovin' it. He missed this warmth. This calm. When for the hundredth time from the morning he looks down at you it causes both of your hearts to flutter.

On an instinct he attracts towards you. Your eyelids slip shutting when his hot minty breaths fans your cheeks, his knuckles pudging into your flesh, book flopped open onto his chest. When his temple rests against yours, your heart found your home.

"We can't. Don't want you sick bub." You grog out stroking the corner of his lips and he whines but nods smauching an affectionate kiss to your temple. You could cry from the proximity. Minutes passed by as you stayed like this at last startling when a loud knock echoed in the comfortable silence you were enjoying.

It was your friend asking about you and apologising that he was so hungover that he forgot about you. Harry felt a twitch in his heart. He's jealous. He gets jealous very easily. He stands up when your friend assures him that he'd take care of you.

"You can take it with you...if you want to." You points to the book and he just gives a curt nod.

"I'll return it tommorrow, jus' call meh if yeh wan' me kay?" Your friend becomes like a ghost at the moment and you feel like a shining star under his piercing gaze. "We're going back tomorrow." Harry felt something cracking inside him at the information.

"Oh." He says monotonely pinching his lower lip, "then I'll bring it back to you next mornin'." He gives you a timid smile knowing damn well he just needs an excuse to see you even if it's for the last time.

"I'll wait for you."

.

You waited as you promised but he never came. Then you found yourself in clinical seats of airport and Harry's tumbling through the lobby of your hotel, he asks for you from the receptionist groaning when he gets to know he fucked up.

Sighing you stand up, rolling your suit case when the lines calls for passengers and you glances back last time but didn't found him. Those were your lasts. You thought.

Then his beautiful voice billowed to your heart in the admist of crowd and you spin on your feet leaving your luggage behind. He's waving the book atop his head, chest heaving, eyes sheened and when you flight like a dove in his arms his breath hued with happiness.

He corners you. Cupping your cheeks genially. He admires you for a complete moment before he speaks kissing your eyelids.

"I want you, it's bad." He announces the severity. The lump forming in your throat and not giving two fuck, becoming a selfish asshole you slotted your lips against his's. He doesn't retreats back instead deepens the kiss and tastes your mouth ignoring the bitterness of medicine on your tongue. A huge grins dances at your lips when you pull back, you take his hand and writes down your address. "Return me this when you reach back and complete it." If were villians such a good excuse for two soumates.

When you were really about to depart from him he tugs you back from the wrist and squishes you close to his heart, pecking your lips for last time.

"Will meet ya soon."

.

Week passes by and he's back in London the first thing he does is drive to your place and your flatmate told him you went back home. Harry's knees weakened, and tongue tied with a wrenching heart. How could she! He mutters furiously pitying himself.

Two weeks and daily visits of Harry but you're still not back.

"Hm. what's with this book loverboy, is it magical?" His mother teases him and he shakes his head timidly. The book's always in his hand, sometimes he's tucking a jasmine bud from his mum's backyard into the spine of book another a ribbon of silk somewhere between the lost pages. He lost you. Can't do same to words you devoted to him.

Then one morning a package was laying at his porch. He gives it a stink eye but takes it inside. Gemma's chewing onto her pancakes watching him with the corners of her eyes as he unboxed the maroon box. The note resting atop the kashmiri shawl and the Bullah Shah's poetry book makes Harry gasp loudly.

"And what if I say even at home, I missed home? I'll be waiting for you. Yours Y/N."

His eyes brims with glossiness when he sees that 'yours.' He takes the note close to his heart as he grabbed the leather copy. He sucks his bottom lip inside his mouth when his eyes fell over the writing and it matched the ones on the note. You translated a whole book of poetry from Punjabi to English, for him.

The sprinkle of black ink on the gruff yellow pages so precious to Harry.

He wastes no time leaving a clueless Gemma. His knocks are furious at your door and when you appear from behind it his heart stopped. You smile against his lips when he greeted you with nothing but a kiss he was longing for ages.

He has completely fallen in love with you. He despises the distance you both have in between.

"God knows 'ow much I missed ye'. wanna be mad at ye' but can't when I could finally love ye'."

✰𝑨𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕✰

You're changing sides again and again onto king size bed in your deep slumber. Coddling into Harry's arms, your bump practically resting heavily atop his tummy and he couldn't be more cheeky for it, you tangle and untangle your legs several times making him groan in his sleep when you rolled to other side of bed in your sleep. In the wee hours of dark night he blindly tries to find you to pull you back in his arms when his hand soaked wet pressed agaisnt the sheets.

Red alarms going off in his brain and he shots up quickly. He brings his shaking hand infront of his face and blinks the splotches in his vision. Your water fucking broke.

His breath wavered as he rolls you to his side. You grunt when he strokes the apples of your cheeks and kisses your forehead. The babies weren't supposed to come at this time, your due date's two weeks.

"Lovie'." He whispers trying not to frighten you at all and when you hissed loudly mistaking a contraction with braxton hicks panic rises into his chest and all over his face.

Shoving down his anxiety he cradles your face lovingly. He could do this. They could do this. They've been waiting for this precious day for eight and a half month. He can't wait to meet his two angels. He gives himself a pep talk and smiles down at you with whole courage when you frown at him.

"What's it Harry. 'M too tired, go back to sleep." You didn't felt anything while breaking your water unlike it happens in movies.

"Look meh in eyes puppy, yeah?" He smoothes down your frown and kisses the tip of your nose. "Take deep breaths fo' me." You look him in confusion as if he's gone mad and when you tries to sit up with his help an agonising yelp leaves your lungs. Your first painful contraction.

Harry grabs your jaw instantly and wraps his strong arm around his babies inside his bunny's womb, "baby stay calm. yer water broke. no biggie kay?" He wraps you in his arms when you shake your head in disapproval both of you sitting on wetness. As if he gives two fucks.

"No. They weren't supposed to come, yet. I'm not prepared for this. no." He wipes your tears doing anything in his power to be there for you, if you'd zone out mentally for him it would get so difficult for him to handle the situation.

"Yes. You're. We're. C'mon puppy my sweet woman our babies couldn't wait to meet us, please." When he adds a please you cry more but bobs your head and Harry sighs in relief carefully getting down on floor. "Don't leave!" You squeak when you literally felt your spine breaking.

"'m not baby, 'm not just taking the baby bag that's all." He quickly rushed inside the wardrobe and snatches the bag from cabinet, his heart beating so fast he could feel it pulsing in his ears.

He squats down slipping your feet into the socks he knitted for you at Christmas, he kisses your soles and you close your eyes latching onto his shoulders screeching painfully when series of contractions kept on crushing you.

"S'okay. 'S okay." He says more to himself bunching your white nightgown to your thighs, your whole weight on him and you grip the stares railing with wide eyes.

"It's impossible. Oh my lord."

"I'll carry you downstairs."

"No. No." You panic because what if you both trip. You know he could carry so much weight than imaginable, he built his arms so strong—but.

"Trust me please, I'd never let any harm touch the three loves of my lives." You nod and gently he snakes his arms under your knees and your back, hands protectively holding you close to his chest. He smiles through the anxiousness when you continuously prayed in his ear.

.

"You're such a minx." He laughs on the top of his lungs in amusement as you sucked the plastic spoon against your tongue. Halfway through the hospital ride your contractions stopped so you demanded Harry to buy you frozen yogurt.

"Your babies are! Always want to have sweets, went on their daddy." He shakes his head ducking down to kiss your lips then the puckering belly button of yours.

"Fuck I love you so much it's hard to put in words." A second later he adds with a beaming grin, "and my two lil smol beans."

You offer him yogurt with big eyes but he refused. He's sweating down his damn arse to eat anything at the moment.

.

"Distract me, please." You whisper to him turning to face him as the nurse brought your injections. He quickly lulls your face in his warm palms from all your clutching. "Um. Wha' d'ya think which one will be Suri and which one Roselena?" His thumb's continuously running in circles under eyes.

"The elder one will be—Ah! fuck." You scream grabbing his wrist when an electrifying jolt shrivelled inside you. The doctor just went after checking your cervix and it's almost there.

He tries to make you breath doing the action an it's no use. You roll your eyes, sweat dripping down your forehead even in such a wintry month. If he would know what it feels like.

.

"Fuckin' hell. 'M never letting you put your dick inside me, what the fuck!!!!" You yell squeezing his hand and the poor Harry's so lost he listen to you like an obeying kid patting sweat from your exposed chest with a towel.

"Y/N push on the count of three, you can do this." Doctor says. It's been half an hour, you've been pushing so hard that all your energy's draining. Hair sticking to your neck, hands shaking by side other almost fracturing Harry's, and he leans down to look in your drowsy eyes.

"Baby you can do this, for our babies, for us." He kisses her forehead and wipes her flowing tears. She sniffs bucking a little and pushing with her all might.

Harry feels like his heart's blossoming into garden full of roses when the doctor announces, "we can see the head of first baby. Push more." You scream loudly with gritted teeth pushing with your all mighty and the room echoes with tiny cries. You sob and Harry stares his elder daughter having a wrap of blood on her delicate skin as doctors called him to cut the umbilical cord.

They take her to nursery to give clean her and Harry's again by your now grinning widely but it soon vanishes when he sees you crying silently, you're covering your eyes with your forearm. You hiccup feeling yourself drowning to darkness. Harry removes your arm and rests his temple agaisnt yours.

"I can't do this. hurts. tired." Your words broken and Harry wishes he could do something for his love.

"I know you can, you love her don't ya. Jus' fo' her." He interlaces his fingers with yours and this time he's the one to squeeze warmly. After, ten minutes of more pushing your second daughter was in this world too.

Harry brushes your hair back smiling down at you as if someone handed him the whole world. You tries to get rid of darkness in your eyes as Harry's words floods in your heart.

"'M so proud of you baby. my strong strong wife my whole fuckin' world. It's all beacuse of you we're blessed with two healthy daughters." This time he takes his time with you instead of immediately going to cut his baby's cord. They'd change the story while telling her so she wouldn't get sad that her daddy cut his sister's cord way more quickly than her's.

"No. No. Don't sleep puppy." He glances back worriedly at the doctors who still needs to push her placenta out. "I'm not...." She whines trying to open her eyes and since Harry has read more about pregnancies than he should doctors chuckles gesturing him to calm down that they'll pull it out themselves.

.

While you sleep peacefully after so long from exhaustion Harry keeps on gazing you with admiration. His lips mere away from yours. His cheek smashed on your pillow as he watches you lovesick and he feels giddy counting onto his reasons of happiness, that made him peck your lips.

He's hot on his heels when the nurse carried his babies to him and he gets excited and nervous managing to take both of them in his arms. He don't wants any of them left out from their father's first embrace.

His tear lands onto the sock covered feetsie of his baby (they aren't identical still he mixed both of them).

"Hi. Bunnies 's meh yer daddy. promise 'm gonna love ye' so much. " He cooes in dainty voice lulling them in synchrony. Awkwardly he manages to duck down landing kisses to their foreheads and he pecks the corners of their lips. "S' beautiful jus' like ye'r momma."

"Wanna see 'er? She's a sleepy head." He sits beside you and you stir adjusting your eyes to light. He shushes you. When you're fully awake Harry gives the elder twin in your embrace but you ask for younger one too.

They're carbon copies of harry. Milky rose cheeks, brown tiny luscious curls drowning at their necks, pointed nose and none of you have seen their eyes so you're anticipating.

"Did ya ever thought in the past we would be here with two babies of our own?" You ask him giving a glance down to your busy bees and he shakes his head butting his finger under his chin.

"No' when ya ghosted meh for whole damn month." At this you snort letting your head fall on you shoulder, "I promised to come back to you didn't I?"

He whispers in return kissing your cheeks "and you did."

You laugh through your sniffles when the twins latches onto either of your full breasts nursing themselves to milk. Harry grins, his eyes glossy as he pets their heads while they made cute sucking noises. He's gonna be the bestest daddy. He got so much love for them. Give them their all lovin' He didn't got from his own father.

"Hi Suri my big baby. Hi Rosalena my smol bubby. It's me, mummy and daddy." You announces to them happily kissing their small heads.

This time you stroke his cheek wiping a lonely tear and he kisses the inside of your wrist affectionately.

"I promise, will love ya with dire passion even 'm their ol' guy." You chuckle softly laying back after feeding them and Harry has put them in their cot. "Love me when I'm young and beautiful, not sure what I'll look like being a nana."

"You'll be the cutest ol' peach." He grins cheekily and you swat his bicep rolling your eyes.

***

Fun fact: Both, Suri and Rosalena means red rose but in different languages.

Please, please for the love of Harry reblog this and give your loads of feedbacks it makes me happy.