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corpocyborg · 3 months

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Secure Your Soul: A Cyberpunk 2077 Fanfiction

This fic was previously published under the title “Before the Event Horizon.”

Summary: Six months ago, V’s boss at Arasaka ordered her to assassinate his rival. Instead, with the reluctant but invaluable help of her old friend Jackie Welles, she pushed them both off their thrones and claimed one for herself. Now the new Director of Arasaka Counter Intel has a problem. She’s uncovered information that indicates that Yorinobu Arasaka, the heir apparent to the Arasaka dynasty, is a traitor. But without solid proof, she’s forced to take matters into her own hands.

An AU in which Corpo!V never leaves Arasaka.

CHAPTER SIX: LIKE A MILITARY COUP

[read on ao3]

PRESENT DAY

“Get up, you backstabbing bitch.”

V’s mind crossed the threshold into consciousness, and she jolted awake. Her neck ached from sleeping at a desk, but it was a familiar ache. She’d pulled all-nighters at a desk her whole life, staring at a pile of paperwork or a computer monitor until the lead she needed jumped out at her. She looked up at Abernathy. “Morning, m’am. Do you have more questions for me?”

Abernathy slammed her head into the desk.

“Fuck,” V muttered. She had cranial armor implants, but they’d been taking a serious beating lately. Abernathy must have gotten the same holiday bonus that she had. No one without gorilla arms could exert that much force so effortlessly. “That's the second time in 24 hours someone’s done that to me.”

“It won't be the last,” Abernathy promised. She lifted V’s head and slammed it back down again. Then she lifted it once more, but this time she held it so that V’s eyes were looking into her own. “What did you say to him to get him to squeal?”

“I've been locked in here for hours,” V said through clenched teeth. Despite the armor implants, her head was pounding viciously. “I haven't had any communication with anyone since you were last here. You can check your surveillance footage if you don't believe me.”

“Then you planned it together.”

“Jenkins and I? What would be the point of that? Just to fuck with you?” V’s words were muffled by Abernathy’s hold on her face. “I came to you because I was trying to switch sides. I wanted to work for someone more level-headed. Although this display is making me doubt whether I was right about you.”

“How dare you?” Abernathy spat, but V was pleased to hear a slight catch in her voice. She’d guessed that line would work on Abernathy primarily because it would have worked on her.

“Look,” V began, wincing as Abernathy squeezed her head. “You can waste your time here, tormenting someone who isn’t even in on Jenkins’ plans, or you can go after your actual enemy. One option is far more productive than the other.”

Abernathy paused, her grip never lessening, for a few seconds that felt much longer to V. Her vision was just starting to swim when Abernathy abruptly released her head. Inertia slammed it back into the desk one final time. When V looked up again, Abernathy was gone.

She crossed her arms on the desk and rested her head on them, struggling for air at first, then progressively slowing and deepening her breaths. It was a technique she’d learned from her life coach at Quantified Satori. It helped, but only to a degree. The pounding in her head had not subsided, and V wasn’t sure how long it would be before she’d have the strength to lift her head again. She supposed there’d be no point to now, anyway. Whatever happened next was outside her control. And, despite their differences, she trusted Jackie. He’d know what he had to do.

Continuing to breathe deeply, she began a new neuromotor relaxation exercise—one targeted at releasing tension in various muscle groups, one at a time, in a particular pattern. It seemed like a good choice because it occupied her mind as well as her body. With this welcome distraction to guide her, V gradually found her way back into unconsciousness.

—

When she woke up again, a different coworker was standing over her.

“Nostra,” she said groggily, “Abernathy sent you?”

“No, V,” Nostra replied. “Abernathy’s offed herself.”

That snapped her awake. Ever since Jenkins had first given her the order to go after Abernathy, V had been anticipating every potential resolution to the situation that she could come up with. She thought she’d become especially effective at predicting Abernathy’s reactions, largely because she so often reacted the same way that V herself would have. But she hadn’t seen this coming.

“You look so shocked,” Nostra commented. There was a slight twitch at the right corner of his mouth. “Weren’t expecting it, huh?”

“Were you?”

Nostra sighed quietly. “In a manner of speaking. She wasn’t depressed, if that’s what you’re assuming. Wasn’t a quitter either. Hell, I’ve seen the woman dodge shit thrown at her from every angle and still walk away clean. She wasn’t weak, V.”

He paused, looking directly at her. Gauging her reaction, V knew. She didn’t try to hide her confusion. A poker face was a decent enough tactic for certain types of lies, but generally the superior strategy was to react the way you would have reacted if you were innocent.

“Then why-” she began.

“Why did she kill herself?” Nostara finished her sentence for her. “Because she didn’t have any interest in life after Arasaka.”

A sudden sense of understanding dawned in V’s mind. Nostra nodded at her. “Now you get it,” he said. “Anyway, that’s the internal factors. As for the external factors, your man Jenkins got too trigger-happy. He was blackmailing her, as you know. Hadn’t released anything, was just making demands at first… then, suddenly, he uploads it all, every bit of dirt he’s got on her, to Arasaka’s intranet.”

Well done, Jackie, V thought instinctively. She forced that thought into the back of her mind. Her face showed nothing but doubt. “But why?” she demanded. “And how do you know it was him?”

“Fair question. He deleted any metadata or other digital trails that could lead to him. He tried to, anyway. It was a tech specialist from your department who caught him, actually. Carter Smith. I believe you know him.”

“I do,” V replied cautiously. She was unsure how Smith factored into the situation and that made her nervous. He knew about her deal with Jackie, but he didn’t know exactly what was on the datashard she’d left him, and he certainly didn’t know about the dirt she’d added to it over the past six years. But it was hardly an impossible intuitive leap. If he'd connected the dots… “We’ve worked together in the past.”

“Apparently, he’d been keeping an eye on Jenkins since he overheard him telling you to ‘make sure Abernathy won’t be a problem anymore.’”

“Jenkins did tell me that. And as you know, I didn’t listen.”

“Didn’t you?” Nostra asked. “Abernathy won’t be a problem for Jenkins anymore, will she?” Before V could say anything in her defense, Nostra added, “Of course, Jenkins will hardly be able to benefit from that, seeing as he’s dead.”

“Jenkins is dead?” V was intrigued to find that she was actually a little sad about that. She’d barely known Abernathy, but Jenkins had been a constant presence in her life for several years. She wouldn’t have called him a friend, but then she spent more time with her coworkers than she did with her friends.

“Yes. Apparently, Smith didn’t like the sound of Jenkins’ plan either. Went directly to Abernathy and reported everything he’d heard. Then offered to keep an eye out for her regarding any further developments. Interestingly enough, he said he didn’t think you’d go through with it. He seems to like you.”

V looked down at the table, smiling slightly. Well, well. You never did know which allies could turn out to be valuable in the long run. “That’s kind of him,” she mused, momentarily lost in the private joke. “But you still haven’t told me how Jenkins ended up dead.”

“Smith kept his word. He was monitoring Jenkins’ online presence. After the blackmail data leaked, he was able to trace a pattern of suspicious activity that indicated that Jenkins was the source. Abernathy had just gotten back from your last interrogation. He showed her what he’d found. She decided if she was going down anyway, Jenkins was coming with her.”

“So she killed him?”

“Yes. Personally, in fact. A first for her.”

V didn’t miss the implication. Abernathy had killed coworkers before, but never by her own hand. V knew that, of course. It made up the bulk of the info that “Jenkins” had revealed. Still, it was interesting that Nostra was comfortable speaking about it so openly. She wondered how much of that reveal had not actually been a surprise to him.

“What about his security team?” she asked.

“He had one, of course. But they primarily look out for threats in disguise, assassination attempts. Not a known coworker who simply walks directly into his office with a weapon. That’s the danger of an enemy with nothing left to lose.”

V stayed silent for a moment, allowing her mind to mull over this new information. It was hard to be certain how much of this story Nostra actually believed, but she suspected it wasn’t all of it. “So what happens now?” she asked finally.

“Now Arasaka has two high-ranking positions to fill on rather short notice. I’m acting Director of Spec Ops, naturally. The acting Director of Counter Intel, by the typical order of succession, should be you.”

V looked up at Nostra. A deep and familiar hunger roared to life in the center of her chest.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Nostra warned her. “It’s temporary. A full investigation of the incident is pending, then Arasaka will decide if you can keep the position. But, yes. It’s you. For now.”

V released a deep breath. She inhaled another one, held it for four counts, then released that one too. “Okay,” she said. “Then I’m free to go?”

In answer, Nostra walked over to the door and opened it.

—

V sat behind the desk in her new office. For the last eleven hours, she'd been suppressing her sense of awe in order to allow herself to focus on the seemingly endless stream of meetings and holoconferences she'd been hosting. There had been much to do. The Frankfurt incident had still needed resolving. As soon as she'd gotten to the office, she'd put her extensive collection of international contacts to work, trading favors and information in exchange for influence over the appointments of the new heads of the European Space Council.

By now, she felt secure that she'd managed to position a majority of figureheads who would either be loyal to or manipulatable by Arasaka. It had been easier than she'd expected. The job wasn't desirable lately, and she could offer a level of protection and security that had skyrocketed in value. She mentally thanked Jenkins for that.

Jenkins…

Now that she had a second to breathe, it hit her again. She was sitting in Jenkins' chair. Behind Jenkins’ desk. In Jenkins' office.

In the last few years, she’d spent more time in the Tower than she had in her own apartment, and as she'd risen through the ranks in Counter Intel, she'd spent more and more time in this office in particular. It was such a familiar place.

Still, she gazed around, sponging in the sights as if she'd never seen them before. Memorizing every detail. The giant Arasaka logo on the floor. The couch in one corner with the liquor cabinet beside it, the full length dining table in the other. The plants displayed behind the glass built into the walls. And finally, the windows and the view outside. Her gaze lingered there the longest, her chair angled to face the window.

Someone knocked softly on her door.

“Come in,” she called out. She swiveled her chair back towards the door.

Carter Smith was poking his head through the crack. “Hey, V,” he said nervously. “Are you still busy? I didn't want to interrupt.”

“It's fine. You can come in.”

He walked across the room and sat in the same seat she'd occupied yesterday. Had it been yesterday? It felt like a lifetime ago. She cleared some papers off her desk and closed her laptop. “What do you need, Carter?”

“I wanted to see how you're doing.”

“Well, we've made good progress in mitigating potential future issues with the Space Council. Our lunar base licenses—”

“No, V. I meant I wanted to see how you’re doing. Personally.”

V paused. “Oh.”

Carter’s cheeks turned a telling shade of pink. “I just… I know Abernathy had you locked up, and… after learning what she’s capable of, I wasn't sure…”

“I’m fine,” V reassured him quickly. “She didn't do anything to me that I can't recover from.”

“Okay.” Carter looked relieved. “Good. I couldn't stand it if anyone else got hurt.” V had the sense that he wanted to say something more. He rubbed the back of his neck, then sighed. “Can you believe what happened? Abernathy… I wanted to protect her… I never thought…”

It was rather sad. Abernathy would've wiped him out without a thought if she'd deemed it necessary, and yet here he was, lamenting his part in her demise. Some people just refused to look out for their own best interests. “There’s no point in blaming yourself,” she said. “Abernathy made her own decision.”

“I know. I know that. But V… you didn't see it…” His eyes scanned the room warily, and V wondered if he was considering revealing some sort of secret information.

“Didn't see what?” she pressed.

“This office. Afterwards.” For a moment, his eyes glazed over and V knew his mind was reliving the memory.

“Carter?” she said, trying to anchor him to the present. “It's all right. Just breathe.”

He took a deep breath. He shivered, but seemed to come back to himself. “Anyway,” he said, looking abashed again. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I'm gonna go now. I've wasted enough of your time. Just needed someone to talk to, I guess.”

“That's fine,” V said cautiously. She didn't want to alienate Carter. He'd proven valuable lately. But she didn't have time to become his regular shoulder to cry on. “Maybe try focusing on your work?” she suggested. “I know you like working with tech.”

“Yeah,” Carter said. He smiled, but it was obviously forced. “Thanks, V. I'll try that.” He left the office.

Well, either he didn't suspect V’s involvement in Jenkins and Abernathy's downfall, or he was the absolute damn best liar she'd ever met. She almost hoped it was the latter. That would make him much more interesting.

She rotated her chair back towards the window. The sun was setting, and the city was coming to life. It lived up to its name, she thought. Its neon colors looked more beautiful against a backdrop of black. And the sky in City Center was always a deep, pure black at night. Night City—the city so bright, it blotted out the stars.

The clock on her optics started flashing, an indication that it was time for her to go home. She dismissed the alarm, but made no moves to leave. As acting Director of Arasaka Counter Intel, it was her right to sleep in her office if she deemed it necessary. She pulled a cigarette out of a desk drawer and lit it. It was Jenkins’, but he wouldn't be needing it anymore. She reclined her chair, took a deep drag from the cigarette, and exhaled slowly.

Night City, she decided, looked its absolute best from out the windows of Arasaka Tower.

#Spotify #valerie locke #susan abernathy #frank nostra #carter smith #secure your soul: a cyberpunk 2077 fanfiction #cyberpunk 2077 #fanfiction #cyberpunk 2077 fanfiction #corpocyborg

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gothamslostboy · 2 years

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A Small Push

Zsasz x Male Reader

This was meant to be a small paragraph or two on my gotham blog, but I got so carried away

This is the first thing I’ve enjoyed writing so much in a while, so it’s going on the main blog

I didn’t proofread so lmk any typos

WORDS: 2107

YOU ZSASZ

Very little information is known about Victor Zsasz. Sure, everyone in Gotham knows to avoid him. They know he’s a sadistic assassin, loyal to his boss, and that he’s never been serious. The few who’ve survived him only bc the boss called him off report their pleas for life to be met with indifference, which always turns to a unrelated comment about what he’s doing later or asking about what his victim originally planned to do that day.

You see, the terrifying thing about Zsasz isn’t how great he is at his job. What sends chills down Gothamites spines at the mention of his name is how unbothered he is with human life. Where the rest of us see cold blooded murder, Victor sees Tuesday morning’s work. Nothing more important than an office worker doing paper work. Yet, no matter how perplexed a person gets, none of them have tried asking him why.

Until you came along.

It was a new day at work, having started at this diner earlier this week after police officers told you one of Gotham’s several psychos burnt down your last job. Lucky for you it was your day off, not so lucky for your coworker Lucas, but you hadn’t liked him much anyway. Despite it being a Friday, the diner was almost completely empty tonight. You had only had one customer, an older man who had been in a rush to eat. He tipped well, though his rambling about leaving before “Satan’s Strawberry Milkshake Meal” left an odd impression.

Confusion only grew in your mind when your supervisor asked if you could handle being alone for a couple hours, eyes quickly shifting between you and the clock. Before you could even finish nodding your head she pushed past you, almost knocking over the coat hanger by the door as she ran. Now you were a little pissed, not only for her abruptness, but at the fact she had been whispering to herself about “milkshake psychos”.

What was everyone’s deal tonight? Maybe you were missing some information about this side of town, you had only just moved over here for the job, starting your first shift immediately after putting the moving boxes inside your apartment. You’d have to ask the supervisor when she got back.

The bell above the door rang, and suddenly all the pieces clicked together. Victor Zsasz, cruelest killer in Gotham, had walked through your doors and was striding over to the counter. It was too late to pretend you weren’t here, his eyes had registered your paralyzed form quickly and he gave a short wave before sitting down.

Taking a deep breath, your feet moved before your mind and pulled you all the way to the backside of the counter. Now you were less then 5 feet from the man, his stare unnerving, only amplified by his almost innocently placed hands: fingers interlocked in an almost “prayer” position.

Hello welcome to Margret’s Diner, what can- what would you like this evening Sir- er, um, Mr. Vic- Mr. Zsasz? Your hand were shaking as you held your notepad, small damp marks at the end of your desperate fingers. You didn’t dare to make eye contact, not even as you heard his sudden chuckle.

Why are you so stressed? If anyone should be stressed it’s me, just had to flee a scene. And you don’t have to be so formal, it’s Zsasz.

A scene? Did he mean a crime scene- of the murder variety? Your grip tightens on the yellow paper below you, clearing your throat as if it would bring back the air squeezed out from your lungs. He lowers his head to try and enter your eyeline, obviously enjoying the effect his presence has.

I guess you- aha, you have a fair point there Zsasz. You let some pathetic chuckles fill the space in between your words, only continuing on when Victor motions his hand, amused but feeling a smidge of annoyance at your inability to speak. The adrenaline of being so close to a killer kicks in, forcing a wave of dangerous confidence to enter your system. So, Zsasz, your stance straightens and you grin a bit at his surprise when you look him in the eyes. What can I get you? From what others have said today I’m assuming a milkshake is on your menu? You can’t even believe your own words, and it seems neither can the assassin in front of you. He leans back in his chair, arms crossing as he shakes his head and smiles.

Bravo, his hands make the motion of clapping with out any sound before he leans closer, head resting in his hands. You take a tiny step back. When you picture Victor Zsasz: Gotham’s Greatest Assassin, you saw a serious man. One who would have already shot you just for making any sort of assumption about him. The casual man with a sort of relaxed beauty about him seemed almost unable to kill, but you knew better than to trust your unstable taste in men.

I had you pegged for a coward diner man, where did those words come from? What a surprise that is. His eyes are wide, too full of life for a man who just admitted to committing a crime, or at the very least running from one. You relax knowing that the annoyance he carried earlier seems gone, maybe even replaced with the same fascination for you that you had for him.

Don’t know, maybe I’m losing it. So was I right about that milkshake or what? Have my sources lied? If the pounding of your heart hadn’t been reminding you of your awakeness, you wouldn’t believe this was a real moment. Not a coward, but you’ve certainly never been a brave, confident conversationalist, and definitely not with someone so infamous as Victor.

Huh, guess I was wrong. Strawberry milkshake please, no cherry. Aren’t you a tiny bit scared I’ll kill you? He focused on you now, trying to discern any fearful tells you could have. Itching to see if you truly were insane. It’s rare he finds someone who can speak to him, even rarer that person seems to relax and enjoy the conversation. You speak over the rising sound of your heart, and scare yourself a bit by resting a hand on the counter and leaning towards the man dressed in black.

If you killed me, who would make the milkshake? You don’t know where the ingredients are and then you’d have a body in your way! Doesn’t seem ideal for a relaxing milkshake. You let a big grin cover your face when it’s apparent Victor enjoyed your answer, laughing and moving just a bit closer. He lets his head flop to the side, catching in in his right hand while pointing at you with his left.

Oh you are fun. Also new here. I come here every week, surprised no one told you. Kinda well known around here. He jokingly rolls his eyes as he finishes his sentence.

He meant it. You are fun, he’s gonna have to keep you around. No matter the cost. It’s obvious to him this is at least partially a front, your hand is more relaxed, but still shaking. But even still, he doesn’t meet people who joke with him on the day to day. Only other assassins, even then it’s typically not good natured, and they usually end up dead. But you. He doesn’t even know your name but he’s on the edge of his seat waiting for you to reply. You’re cute. You’re funny. And you’re blushing everytime he gets closer, Victor doesn’t think you even noticed that you were.

Zsasz made a promise to himself the day he realized he was different from those around him. The day he realized no one else enjoyed watching the pain of others, no one enjoyed causing it, when he observed quick movements in the opposite direction as he walked towards ppl, the day he pieced together it wasn’t normal to relish in that. Victor Zsasz promised himself that when he found someone he didn’t want to hurt, even a little bit, he wouldn’t let them escape. Lucky day, he found you. Even with his favorite torture methods & his favorite weapons, no scenario in his mind felt right, at least not the unconsentually violent ones. You’re voice fades into his mind. He hadn’t even realized he zoned out.

Zsasz? You ok there? What did you get shot fleeing? are you gonna die on me? Your real concern, hidden behind sarcasm didn’t escape him. How cute. Looking you in the eyes Victor answers.

Nah I’m to good for that. Thinking about you. Wanna make yourself a milkshake too? My treat! He slams his hand on the table, expectingly waiting for you to comply.

Well, it is a slow day, why not! Walking over to the blender, a question nags at you. Hey Zsasz? You take a deep breath again before deciding to commit. Ask ya’ a question?

Sure diner man, if you can do two things. He holds up two fingers, and opens up the jar of maraschino cherries you were struggling with. Numero uno: you can call me Victor now, you’re fun. Numer dos: let me know your name! Diner man is fun an’ all, but it’s unfair you know mine.

Victor pops a cherry in his mouth as he waits for the blender to stop. Never taking his gaze away from his new prize.

Oh shit, sorry. Totally forgot. Um, Y/N, Y/N L/N! And well, I guess I was wondering- I just wanna know- I’m curious how you do it? For the first time since the beginning of Victor’s visit, you’re too nervous to look at him. What if he thought that was too personal? You place a straw in his milkshake and slide it over to him, gasping when his hand wraps around your wrist.

Don’t get all shy on me L/N, we are having so much fun. I do a lot of things, you’re gonna have to be specific. He notices your hesitancy to continue and pulls you into him, almost spilling his milkshake as he whispers in your ear. I don’t bite, well, unless you want me to handsome. He lets you pull back and winks, sipping at his cool drink.

You do the same, hoping it will combat the heat flooding your body, hoping it’s not, but knowing it is very visible on your cheeks. Alrighty Victor, he loves how you say his name, intently locking his eyes on your fidgeting hands. How do you kill? How come the cops never catch you off guard? Why don’t you have to take it seriously?

Huh. No one’s ever asked him that. His new favorite possession is braver than most.

Because I’m good at what I do Y/N. It’s easy, just pull the trigger, push the button, stab, I could do it in my sleep. I don’t take it seriously because how’s that fun? He leans back and smiles a bit, intrigued at how much more terrified you were to ask the question than you are hearing the answer. Infact, it seems you’ve forgotten that people are supposed to be disturbed when they hear this. Y/N L/N seems almost, jealous, that Victor Zsasz can do this.

I could teach you, friend. Makes good money. Definitely more fun then a diner job. He cuts off your protest quickly. You don’t have to do the whole “I’m a good person” act, I can see it in your eyes. I don’t think you were joking when you said your losing it Y/N. You just need some one to push you along, Victor stand up, slowly walking all the way to the other side of the counter until he’s face to face with you. His lips hovering barely over yours. Let me push

You get lost in his dark eyes for a second contemplating. Maybe he’s not so crazy. Life is the crazy thing. People like Lucas were crazy. He always bugged you at your last job, constantly asking you to work overtime. Why should you have to do extra because he had a bad life? Maybe what you had done made sense. I mean the police had believed that the building burning was Jerome Valeska, they hadn’t even noticed the gun shot wound. It wouldn’t be so easy if it was wrong, right? Okay, you connect your lips, closing your eyes and enjoying the moment. You pull back for air, reestablishing eye contact.

Teach me, push me over the edge

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crystalstuff22 · 2 years

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Can you do Naib x male reader who is an assassin

After every the match ended, male reader always quickly left which is suspicious for the survivors

Male reader go to a graveyard stone that he made.

Male reader used to have a child but got shot by someone.Before he go to the manor,he always go to his child graveyard stone

How would Naib react?

Genre: Angst , Game/fandom: Identity v , Character/s : Naib

(C/N) - your child’s name , (S/N) - your child’s surname

To the moment you stepped in the manor Naib knew there was something off about you. When everyone found out that you are an assassin , they tried to not look at you nor talk with you because they were scared you might do something. Naib is that type of guy that will give you blank stares.

No comment at all for you, but when you finished matches you would hurry to the opposite way, leaving him brutally confused. Same as the others. But they didn’t dare to ask you. Naib was quiet, until he got curious and secretly followed you. I mean he is pretty good at being silent (stalking).

As naib positioned himself behind the big rock he was looking at every move you did. As you stopped walking, you kneeled in front of a little… what is that?? A little grave?? He narrowed his eyes so he can see better.

It was a grave with a name on it!

‘(C/N) (S/N)’ that was your surname if he could remember but who is (C/N)???

,,Hey kid.. How are you doing? Are you good?’

Naib was shocked. Kid?? He was so confused.

,,Days aren’t getting any better.. Everyone doesn’t even want to look at me.. … …’’ silence. There were tears in your eyes.

,,I miss you.. why did you have to.. ugh…’’ You were wiping your tears. Your voice became shaky.

,,I miss you so so much.. it’s so lonely without you.. No one likes me. It’s because I am an assissin.. that’s all about.. I didn’t want to become one.. but. I needed the money.. I’m sorry. And now? I am trapped here for.. I don’t even remember how much years it has been.. it’s odd.. everything here is odd.. The moment I lost you it has been pretty..’’ you started crying again, not able to finish your sentence. You were a crying and shaking mess. Breakdown. You want to be with your kid. What happened? Why did this happen?

Naib stared at you crying and shaking form shocked and speechless - guilt inside his stomach. He tried to escape but made a noise and ran faster not looking behind.

You heard him but didn’t even got the chance to get up . You just wanted to see your kid again. But it won’t be soon.

Why.

Naib ran , panting, eyes widen from guilt. What happened? He isn’t supposed to care.

Every time he saw you he felt more and more guilty for you. He tried speaking to you but it was no use. You didn’t want to communicate with anyone because you knew you were a bad person.

I guess not every life ends with a Happy End, that’s what some people say.

#identity v x reader #identity v x you #idv x reader #identity v naib #naib x reader identity v #naib x reader #idv naib #angst

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fanfic-wonderland · 3 years

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For the tom x assassin can u do after they kill his dad they have sex and she’s the son and toms the sub virgin

😏 Although I do read smut, I'm not used to writing it, so I hope this isn't too cringy. 😂 You can read the first part here, if you haven't already.

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Assassin!Reader

Warnings: Language, unprotected sex, oral (male receiving), sub!Tom Riddle

_____________________________________

Killing off Tom’s father was easy, but disposing of the body and the evidence was much easier. It came with the advantages of being a wizard.

Tom set the body on fire until there was only a mere pile of ashes left, which he quickly got rid of with a single wave of his wand. You did the same thing with the blankets covered in blood, which was now dry, and replaced them with fresh new ones. You turned to Tom once he re-entered the room after finishing with his task, a proud smile on your face. "You're quite the learner, aren’t you?"

His lips curled into a smirk. "I guess so."

"Come," you sat down on the neatly made bed and patted the empty spot next you. "sit with me for a bit."

He wasted no time in making his way towards you, sitting much closer than you had expected. However, just because it surprised you didn't mean that you minded it.

His eyes stared down at your face, and his musky scent hit your nostrils immediately. You both had taken a shower almost half an hour ago, and it was getting hard for you to ignore the small details that you were just starting to notice about him. Like how his hair was still wet (and yet it still looked stylish, somehow), or how the gray t-shirt and black shorts that he was now wearing made him look ten times cuter, if that was even possible. "You must be exhausted."

"Are you?" He questioned.

You leaned closer and you saw how his eyes dropped to your lips, the proximity between you two becoming dangerously close. "Not at all."

That was the last thing you remembered saying before you guys were already kissing, hungrily reaching out for each other as if you wanted to touch each other in every way possible, all at the same time. Your hands took a hold of his wet curls, tangling them around your fingers while his hands went down to your waist, and you didn't have to think twice before climbing onto his lap to gain better access to him. All of him.

Your tongue coaxed his as the kiss deepened, neither of you daring to be the first to break apart. You've kissed your fair share of people before, but this one was the most intense so far. There was just something in the way that Tom responded to your actions that made you go weak in the knees.

Once you felt his hard-on through his shorts, that was when you had to pull away in order to take off the random, oversized shirt that you had found around the house. Throwing it aside, you watched Tom’s blank gaze move down to your bare breasts, his upper body going stiff. You suddenly realized why. "Tom," you grabbed his face, in order to force him to look back up at you. "have you ever done this before?"

He stared at you for a few seconds. "No. Never."

"Is that so?" A smug smile crept onto your face as you softly pushed him backwards, so that now his back was pressed against the mattress. "So I'm the very first person to witness you like this?"

You noticed how his Adam's apple bobbed up and down. "Witness me how?" He whispered.

You bit your lip, your hands beginning to wander around his clothed torso. "So... bare. So vulnerable. It's fascinating."

He chuckled, his hands landing on your hips, the friction between you and his pants becoming almost unbearable -even more so when you began to slowly grind against him-, but he had no intentions in showing you how much it affected him. "You find me fascinating?"

"Very." Was your answer as you leaned down, so that your faces were only inches apart.

Instead of kissing him again, you went lower and pressed your lips against the soft skin of his neck. When he felt your tongue slithering against it, and then your teeth nipping at a certain spot, he couldn't help but let out a sigh. Clearly, he wasn't someone who let people take charge that easily, but he would be lying if he said that he wasn't enjoying the way you were making him feel at that moment. You, of all people, he never would have guessed.

You helped him take off his shirt -fucking finally- and it probably landed somewhere alongside your own, but you did not care as you kissed down from his chest and then tracing down to his stomach, where you disposed of his shorts, quickly followed by his boxers. His length was now in full view and you couldn't help but look up at him, almost like you were asking for permission to touch him. He didn't look nervous, nor did he want you to stop, so when he gave you a small nod of approval you began to stroke him. You didn't miss the way his breath hitched as soon as you touched him, and it made you smile in satisfaction. You looked back up at him to see his reaction; his head was thrown back and his eyes were now closed shut. It was probably the hottest thing you had ever seen, the fact that Tom was usually so collected but now you had him wrapped around your finger.

"Should I keep going?" You asked him. Your hand did not stop its movements.

"Yes." He breathed.

"As you wish." You didn't want to make him wait any longer; you ran your tongue through his length, slowly licking all around it and then lightly sucking on the tip.

"Fuck." He muttered quietly. His hand tugged on your hair; you weren't sure if he was aware of how hard he was pulling, but you did not stop. You took him in fully, your head bobbing up and down as you sucked him off; one hand was still stroking him, while the other one was holding onto his thigh. Small grunts of pleasure escaped his mouth every now and then, and it made you smile against him. "Fuck, I think I’m going to-"

When you were sure that he was close, you unwrapped your lips from him, but increased the speed on your hand movement. You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, and soon enough warm drops of his cum fell flat on your tongue. Even when he was finished you licked around him a few more times, just to make sure that you got everything.

He finally fluttered his eyes open when you were crawling back up, leaving yet another trail of kisses behind, until you found his lips again. He grabbed your chin, holding you in place as he kissed you roughly, tasting himself on your mouth, and maybe that was the hottest thing ever. "Did you like that?" You asked him against his lips.

"It was amazing." He replied, kissing you shortly. His hands were running up and down your back as you continued to grind against him. "You're amazing."

"I'm not done, yet." You let him know as you took off your underwear, the only thing separating you from being skin against skin completely. Before he could say anything else, you aligned yourself against his tip, and then you took him in, all in one swift movement.

You moved against him, his length hitting every inch of your inner walls perfectly, and you let out a few moans that could not really be kept in even if you tried. He lifted himself up a bit in order to capture your lips once more in yet another sloppy kiss. His hands got much more curious, cupping your breasts and playing with your nipples almost subconsciously, and it only made your moans duplicate. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you both stared at each other for a moment, his lips parted open while your foreheads pressed together. You felt your release building up at the pit of your stomach, which only made you go faster, harder. His facial expression told you that he was close, too, and he wrapped his arms around you to pull you closer to him. He needed as much from you as possible.

Although the pleasure was out of this world as soon as you finally finished, your favorite part was watching him come undone for the second time that night. Both of you were breathing heavily, trying to calm down and process what just happened. Tom buried his head in the crook of your neck while his chest was still heaving up and down, your bodies still tangled with each other because neither of you wanted to let go. It was too nice of a feeling to have his warmth embracing you whole. "How was it?" You asked him once you could speak again.

You felt him kissing your neck. "It might have felt just as good as killing off my father."

You laughed as he looked up at you, again, while a toothless smile decorated his lips. You combed his hair with your fingers. "Good to know."

#fanfic #fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #harry potter scenarios #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfic #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle smut #tom riddle fanfiction #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle #tom riddle scenarios

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glowingbadger · 3 years

Note

Hi it’s me, crawling through the window. Would it be possible to get a crumb of arranged marriage w/ Hubert? His line w/ Dorothea about being willing to get married for politics sake has fueled my brain rot for him.

Good God I need to secure my windows-

I mean HELLO FRIEND ANON YES IT WOULD BE MY PLEASURE

Lol actually though, I have been thinking about this for Hubie since we all started chatting about that arranged marriage stuff! I think it's a perfect concept for him~

This like... got weird while I was writing it though?? Idk man hahaha it ended up on the less-spicy side of what I usually write, and with some very weird dialogue in places... Idk, I hope y'all like it. Maybe if there's interest, I'll follow this up eventually with a more smut-focused piece?

I've been traveling and working so much lately that I just don't even know what writing is anymore or how it works hahaha

TW: A brief mention of non-con

Hubert (FE3H) x Reader ("wife," neutral pronouns)

Arranged Marriage - semi spicy i guess?

"Frankly, he's a pain," Linhardt must be able to see your surprise and confusion written across your face. He goes on, "He's reliable and capable, of course, but also the most persistent nag you'll ever meet. Actually, no-" he glances upward as though to cross reference his own thoughts, "No, her Majesty is worse. But Hubert is a close second to be sure. Always on and on about sleep schedules and proper nutrition and etiquette..." He sighs and closes the massive tome on his lap, as though to close the conversation with it, "frankly, he's an insufferable mother hen. Does that help?"

"Well, it's... Not what I expected," you admit with a shrug, "but thank you all the same."

It's been several weeks since the papers binding you in marriage to Hubert Von Vestra had been signed- and this alone had sufficed. No ceremony, no grand ball, just paperwork and a handshake with your father. A handshake that ensured that, even under the Empire's unification, he would maintain nominal control over his considerable portion of land, and in return, would swear absolute loyalty to her Majesty. It was a beneficial arrangement for all parties, and you were not ignorant to the part you played. You were hardly even a bargaining chip- moreso, a hostage.

Your new husband had made no secret of what manner of harm may befall you if your family were to renege on their deal. Fortunately, you know your father to be a reliable coward, so you have no reason to believe he would be bold enough to step out of line.

Hubert Von Vestra is a terrifying man. A zealously loyal man of storied cruelty and a frigid disposition. His frame looms over you whenever he's near, and though he's hardly placed a finger on you since you'd been given over to him, his mere presence is... arresting. There's a sort of charisma to him that's equal parts frightening and fascinating. Perhaps it's madness brought on by your circumstances, but you can't help wanting to glimpse just the slightest bit into that brilliant, ever churning mind.

Unsurprisingly, he has been resistant to your attempts to understand him. He hardly indulges you in small talk, and if you were the paranoid sort, you'd think he intentionally makes himself busy when you're around. Eventually, perhaps out of sheer stubbornness, you'd settled on a routine of bringing coffee to his study adjoined to your bedroom in the evenings. He'd been visibly surprised the first time. It wasn't until the fourth night that he'd given a curt "thank you." About two weeks in, he'd actually sat back in his chair and laid down his quill pen to receive the cup from your hands. After a month, he'd leveled his narrow gaze at you and said,

"I cannot begin to fathom what satisfaction you glean from playing 'maid' to me."

"Well, I, uhm," you hadn't expected him to address you so directly, but you managed to say, "You... work so hard, I wanted to do something for you, I suppose."

His expression is inscrutable as he replies,

"You are aware that my work was much the same before you arrived."

"I am," you say softly, "But- all the same..." you trail off, and Hubert seems content to let the matter rest. And so you leave him be amidst his reports and correspondence, coffee at his side on the desk. Yet for as unproductive as your exchange might have seemed, it does leave you with an idea. The thought to learn about the man from those who knew him long before your arrival at the capitol.

Your investigation into the true character of your husband does not stop with Linhardt. In fact, his testimony only leaves you with further questions. But perhaps the others would say otherwise; perhaps the United Empire's most up and coming crest scholar simply inspires maternal behavior. This has to be the case- you simply can't imagine that the notoriously ruthless heir of the even more notorious Vestra lineage would be so... Doting.

And yet the more you learn of him, the more contradictory he seems.

Caspar's take is much like Linhardt's- a picture of a man far closer to a school marm than any assassin or master of torture. Ferdinand seems both smitten and incensed by him, oscillating wildly between the two. Then eventually, to your shock, Bernadetta takes the initiative to speak to you about Hubert of her own accord.

"I'm, uh, really so-sorry to bother you!" she approaches with arms drawn close to her chest and eyes resolutely avoiding yours, "I- I just heard that you were... asking about Hubert, so, I, uh..."

It takes some time to prompt her further. You assure her again and again- no, this isn't intrusive at all- yes, you'd very much like to hear her perspective- no, you're not mad at her. In truth, you're endlessly intrigued about what a gentle soul like Bernadetta would have to say about a man feared across the continent. Finally, she manages,

"He's... actually really kind!" she blurts out, as though the words would abandon her if she gave them the window of opportunity. Your eyebrows raise slightly.

"You think so..?"

"Yes, completely-!" she stammers, "I know he's super, super scary, and powerful and spooky and cold and, uh, all of that. But still," her voice falters as she continues, "He only scolds people when they do something dangerous. And he only hurts people to protect others. I... I know he's done some te-terrible things. But... he's always been nice to Bernie," finally, she meets your eyes with an imploring look in hers, "So, uh, I'm really grateful to him. And I think it would be really nice for someone to reach out to him. If... if that's not too weird or anything. For you."

You smile warmly and nod,

"Thank you, Bernadetta. I know it can't be easy for you to come to me with all of this, but... I'd like to try, if I can."

The opportunity doesn't come in the way you expect.

At first, it seems the night will proceed like many others before. You bring a cup of coffee to your husband's desk, setting it down quietly so as to not disturb him. He's silent, but this is common enough, so you head back to the bedroom to undress for the evening. All nights prior, he would lay beside you long after you'd settled in, then rise to resume work in the morning before you woke up- all the while never allowing your bodies to interact in any way.

Tonight, just as you're about to close the door to Hubert's study behind you, long fingers catch around your wrist, visibly startling you.

It's the most physical contact you've had to-date, but he only says,

"One moment."

You whip around to face him, a touch of anxiety evident in your eyes. It's clear in his own that he notices, but if anything, he only seems amused. He steps forward, his taller frame menacing you as he speaks,

"I understand that you have been busying yourself with some manner of investigation as of late."

It takes a moment for his meaning to reach you. When it does, your face burns and you can't bring yourself to meet his scrutinizing gaze,

"Oh, uhm..."

"I assure you, my dearest wife," he says with barely concealed venom, "anything that I do not wish for you to know will be kept from you. Aside from which, your efforts thus far have proven amateurish at best."

Something seems off about his tone. You could understand if he felt uncomfortable or hesitant about your efforts to learn about him, but this seems far more grave, more... business-like. He steps towards you once more, and you step back in turn. Yet before long, you feel your legs bump the edge of the bed. A gloved hand trails a fingertip down your jawline to your chin, then urges you to look up at him.

"Whatever you are planning, my dear, I promise it will be fruitless. You had best rethink how you spend your days before your actions bring you to harm."

"No, I-" your brow creases deeply, your face burns, your body burns hotter and you don't want to consider why, "I've just been trying to learn about you as a person, nothing else. We're- we're married, after all, so..."

He gives an abrupt, dry laugh.

"Ah, so I am to believe that you've been interrogating my allies out of some misguided affection, is that it?"

"Hubert, just listen to me!" for a moment, you feel bolstered, defiant, and you straighten your posture, "You won't tell me the first thing about you- the only way to learn so much as your favorite color is to ask someone who's known you for a decade!"

Briefly, he does seem to consider your words. But his eventual reply is as aloof as any prior,

"If you're no spy or politician, then you're worse- a fool." he says, and before you can respond, he's seized both of your wrists and pushed you back onto the bed. For a moment, the room spins and your voice leaves you. A shrewd eye watches you with cruel condescension as he pins you against the sheets.

"I should think that you'd be well aware what I'm capable of," he nearly whispers, "I personally ensured that the rumors spread through your father's territory and further still. Do you think that anyone would even dare lift a finger to help you if I chose to seek retribution for this recent behavior?" He draws nearer, his grip tighter at your wrists, "Perhaps as punishment, I'll simply take my pleasure from you by force."

Your lips tighten, you take a breath. Then, meeting his gaze directly, you reply,

"You won't."

His visible eye narrows.

"And what evidence do you have to prompt such unfounded confidence? Perhaps you have crafted a flattering falsehood of me in your mind," a mocking smirk curls his lips, "Am I a misunderstood sentimental sort to you, then? A sad, lonely man for you to save?"

You scowl, though you suspect it looks more like a pout to him.

"I don't know what I think of you yet- not completely. But I don't pity you like that, and I don't think you're sad or lonely. I know you're not."

For the first time, it seems that you've caught him off guard. That frigid mask falters for just a moment, and you go on before he can replace it,

"You're surrounded by people who care about you. I've seen it for myself. Whatever you've had to do in the service of your ideals- it hasn't kept the people around you from wanting to know and understand you, even if it's despite you."

Hubert is silent for a moment. His gaze bores into you like he thinks he'll discover some hidden layer if he can just keep digging. Then, he sighs,

"How did I ever become bound to such a troublesome spouse..."

When you wrest your arms from his grasp, his hands fall away with little resistance, and you think that perhaps he had never truly intended to keep you in place by force to begin with. He moves to leave the bed, but your fists find the front of his clothing and tug him back down to you.

You press your lips to his without hesitation, and you can feel him inhale sharply, his entire body rigid above you. His lips are surprisingly soft, his scent like coffee and old parchment, and though your heart threatens to burst from your chest, you hold firmly to him by his clothes. Near imperceptibly, he leans down against you, and your fear, along with any remaining doubts, begin to dissolve. Knowing he won't pull away, you let your hands relax against him, running up his chest where you can feel his own pulse pounding. It's so human, so entirely reasonable and normal. Now, at last, Hubert Von Vestra is merely a man of flesh and bone.

Your tongue meets his naturally, your lips parting in time with his as your kiss deepens to a fevered pace. One hand reaches that sharp, handsome jawline, reveling in the erotic sensation of his mouth moving against yours. And yet, all the while, his hands remain staunchly on the bed beside you. He doesn't touch you- doesn't even let his body meet yours.

It's impossible to tell whether passion or madness drives you to bring your teeth to his lower lip, a single insistent bite communicating desire mounting faster than you can contain. And for a moment, you sense something new; a sound catches in Hubert's throat, a reaction he fights to stifle. Then, he pulls away. His pale skin is tinted a rare shade of pink, and his hair is ruffled out of place enough to reveal both narrowed eyes. His cloak has spilled around his frame to surround you both, and somewhere in your frazzled mind, you imagine that you're caught in some beautiful, velvet-lined trap.

"I- must... return to my work." Hubert says stiffly. He pushes up from you and turns away, leaving you still flustered on the bed behind him. You sit upright, holding your arms tight around your body as you watch him straighten his hair and clothes.

"You, uhm..." your face reddens still as you search for the right words, "you could... join me in bed, if you liked."

Hubert turns to the door of his study, speaking without daring to even glance your way,

"Anything that you offer to me now will be born from the impulse to survive. I have been bargained with before." His shoulders slack just slightly, his voice low and sober, "The proudest nobleman will even sell off his own child to a monster if he feels it will spare him its teeth."

You open your mouth to protest, then shut it without a word. You feel that you know your mind and heart, even in this moment, but you lack the words to convince a man like this. In a feeble attempt, you murmur,

"You don't frighten me, Hubert. Not anymore."

He half turns toward you, though his hand remains on the handle of his study door.

"You yourself said that you do not know what you think of me," he says, "As such, I will not lay a hand on you until the day that you do."

You stare down at your hands in your lap, barely registering the sound of the door clicking shut as he leaves you in the bedroom. No matter how you try to sort out your tangled thoughts, the memory of his lips on yours won't leave them. If anything, it eclipses any sense of reason, standing resolutely in the way of your path to clarity. Letting out a groaning sigh, you fall onto your back on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling as if it could offer you any advice.

What do I think about my own husband? You wonder, the thought nearly enough to make you laugh. Well for one, he's a pain.

#hubert von vestra #hubert x reader #fire emblem #feh #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem x reader #fire emblem imagines #fire emblem fic #x reader

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thatlovelyhenryhoe · 3 years

Text

Alexy chats

A/n: It’s safe to say that my way of entering fandoms (officially) is by writing chat fics which end up being 10 chapters long, per public request. Should be fun i guess 😂

Warnings: swearing, mentions of killing, chaos

Taglist: @smiling-girl

————————————-

(15 September, 17:30)

A: morning you idiot

H: Dear Alex, Please address me with respect. Yours sincerely, Prince Henry of Wales

A: you did not just stay that

H: Please go more in depth regarding what I said and how it may have offended you. Sincerely, Prince Henry

A: the royalty card? You boring cabbage

H: I notice our conversation is taking an unprofessional turn. I will have to ask you to be respectful when talking to me and only converse If it is crucial.

A: nah, you’re fun to annoy

H: You seem to be doing a great job at that.

A: *gasp* oooh you gave up the formal endings!

H: I deeply regret it.

A: now I only have to convince you to give up punctuation and capital letters.

H: No chance, Mr Claremont.

A: ah go fuck yourself

A: seriously

A: one step forward, two steps backwards

H: Have a lovely day, Mr Claremont. Please do not text me again.

(16 September, 3: 48)

A: i can’t sleep

H: What time is it in America? Isn’t it late?

A: yes. Thats why im supposed to be sleeping

H: Have you drank any tea? Chamomile perhaps?

A: of fucking course you’d suggest tea

H: It has been proven that it has calming properties and helps you relax. I could send you an article I read about it.

A: oh yeah that should definitely put me to sleep

H: Perfect then. I’m sure the White House has a kitchen near your bedroom.

A: the article would be the tea, you dense gnome

H: Goodnight Alex.

A: im bored tho

H: Close your eyes and fake it till you make it.

A: when i see you i will strangle you to death

H: Dare you get near Shaan, young man?

A: Do I smell humour, lad?

H: Use “lad” again and I will block you.

A: What would you do If it were real life ;)

H: Goodnight. Alex.

(20 September, 14:35)

H: Good afternoon, Alex. I am writing this message to remind you of your visit to England in two days. Shortly after your arrival, there has been an interview planned and I would like us to go over information about each other. Would that be alright with you?

A: is this your strange way of getting to know people?

H: I assure you, when I am actually interested in befriending someone, I am much more pleasant.

A: im hurt

H: What is your favourite colour?

A: red, maybe

H: What MBTI type are you?

A: how is that necessary information

H: It tells me a lot about you. More than just the mask of “first son” that you have. Also, your zodiac sign please.

A: ENTP and Aries

H: Makes sense.

A: why what does it say about me

H: I’m surprised you haven’t looked it up yourself yet.

A: I like hearing people talking about me ;)

H: When I think you can’t get any more self absorbed.

A: shut up and tell me what I’m like

H: I suppose the main traits that characterise you would be that you often think big, you’re passionate and motivated, at least for a little while and you get bored easily.

A: well i am quite passionate ;)

H: Fuck off.

A: that’s your second swear word, your highness. Have you caught a cold?

H: Matter of fact, I have. That, however, does not give you a reason to mock my title.

A: to add to the info list: weak immune system and a bitch baby

H: I’ll have my assassins kill you in the most painful of ways.

A: why don’t you do it yourself?

H: Because. I am sick.

A: well isn’t the point to kill me anyway?

H: Do you seriously think I give a bloody fuck whether I give you the cold or not

A: who knew you were such a bad boy- a swear word and no punctuation

H: That’s it. Say your goodbyes. You’ll be dead in 24 hours.

A: Sure. Enjoy sipping tea, my love <3

*Henry choking on his tea while reading that*

(21 September, 1: 35 am)

A: HENRY

A: WHY DO I HEAR WHISPERS BEHIND MY BACK

A: I FEEL LIKE SOMEONE IS FOLLOWING ME

H: They will kill you at my command. Care to apologise now?

A: IM SORRY! I DIDNT MEAN IT I WAS JOKING! YOU CAN START A WAR, YOUR HIGHNESS PLEASE!

H: You’re pathetic.

A: Wait-

A: Please tell me that was not a prank.

A: Oh

A: oh god no

A: this is embarrassing

A: wow i really just begged

A: and was turned on by you calling me pathetic WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME YOU DEMON

H: I’ll keep that information stored. Good night Alex.

A: WAIT

A: COME BACK!

#red white and royal blue #rwrb #henry fox mountchristen windsor #alex claremont diaz #alex and henry #chat fic #rwrb fanfic #alex x henry #fluff #and chaos

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dicksoutformtl · 3 years

Text

doctor who nonsense with la squadra, i have no reason for this other then I am procrastinating on cleaning my appartement

i think melone & risotto would actually enjoy watching doctor who with their s/o, like I don’t have a good explanation for them. lol melone may be a given but risotto I think would like the goofy but at times touching moments.

—You will have to hold risotto during the Van Gogh episode like I don’t make the rules you are gonna have to give him a minute ( please don’t tell his squad mates ). When you’re not holding him during that scene, you two are very comfortably tangled together while watching the show. Sorry I also feel like he may fall asleep during the show like dads/grandpas may snore a bit. Man is comfy feels safe so ofc he may snooze a bit. Good luck unwrapping yourself from melone he is like a constricter you don’t know where your limbs start an his ends ( he can let go of you need to love but hes gonna be pouty until you come back ) Will give you little kisses during the show & if you’re ok with it will talk an discuss the show with you while you watch it. he’s like super into the show you guys will have lots of late night talks about this show even if you’ve stopped watching it days ago.

sorbet & gelato I don’t personally peg as people who’d like watch it themselves & I mean actively seek it out, but if you’re watching they’d join you in the cuddle pile ( or alternatively sorbet is being squished underneath his two favorite people & he’s have it no other way )

— these two will also mess with you occasionally, esp gelato when he starts to get fidgety & if it’s turning a particular tense scene I’m sorry he will be trying to spook you even more. he’ll make it up to you somehow if it really startled you. Sorry have to add but I think gelato would like strax. sorbet is the same but when he gets bored of messin’ with you ( he doesn’t go quite as far as his husband ) he’s gonna start get handsy ( not sexual but I mean I guess it could be ??? but I mean more like the “ starts playing with your hands/hair. starts tracing your freckles kinda shit ) I will say you also probably wont be moving much soon either lol. gelato also does he dad/grandpa snooze through the show he snores so loud he wakes himself make, don’t mention or he’s gonna lovingly wrestle you for laughing at him ( don’t tell his husband but you & sorbet like to try an see if you can mess with him during his snooze. he will be “”mad”” at you both & refuse to snuggle anymore :’( )

Mmh Pesci, Illuso, & maybe Formaggio for varying reasons may like some parts of the series ( going like from which doctors your watching to certain episodes ) but they’d join you on the couch.

— Illuso will probably be fuckin with you during it (lovingly) you are not allowed a moment of peace with this man. How dare you watch this nerd show an not at attention to him :( but ultimately he gets bored of this & will start to watch the show, decides hey this isn’t too bad & now you have him using you as pillow while you play with his hair you are not allowed to stop petting him he will whine | Formaggio unless it’s a particular intresting episode is there to squish you underneath him as he lays on you. may or may not get bored of this after awhile & decide to use his stand making you tiny so he can take you out on a night on the town. But he will be joining you more often if not to use you as a breathing body pillow. (Don’t tell anyone but he’s not immune yo the Van Gogh episode shh) | Pesci likes the show but I feel he’s into certain doctors more & you are the one who’s snuggling on top of him. I don’t know Pesci’s character well enough tbh to add anything more other then he always gets really sad when the doctor eventually has to regenerate & you will have to comfort. Sure he’s a strong tough assassin but the doctors so good why does he have to leave :c please give him lil forehead smooches

Prosciutto & Ghiaccio I am at a toss up, cause I feel like these two could be into the show but you may have to ware them down a bit to actually enjoy it but once you get them into they’re really into it. But they could also be like “-sighs heavily- this again, whatever “ they have no interest in the show whatsoever but they love you dearly so they’ll suffer through it.

— prosciutto given if he’s into it or not, sorry I’ve said this with two other ones but by god these men are tired & old, he will dad/grandpa snooze next to you like on your shoulder/leaned next to you or in your arms head resting in your chest becaus he wanted to be held & you’re very warm n cozy. Mmh I feel you could get him into the older doctor who ( I don’t think if we go modern au he’d like the new who ?? ) either it’s more tolerable or he’s very into it. if he’s really into he will be making scheduled days you guys will sit & binge the series with you. Don’t you dare watch ahead of him he doesn’t like that, gonna break his heart he wanted to experience it with you together, no it doesn’t matter if you’ve watched it like 100 times it always special with you. Wont lie he’s gonna talk shit about the new who if you make him watch it, like not necessarily ??? shitty way but yeah I dunno how to explain it lol. overall I’d give him ( if he’s not into the show ) a 7/10 watching partner may give the show critiques & nit pick it. If he’s into he’s 11/10 watching partner. Only good thing in both scenarios he will bring you snacks & drinks c: I swear to you if you get ghiacchio really into the show beloved ice man will lose his shit during certain scenes because he’s so invested in it. Like you know the those people that get really wrapped up in the story & react heavily to it ( can be good or bad hes v !!! about it ) he’s like that. if you’re on his lap I’m sorry you’re gonna get knocked off every now n again but don’t worry you’ll get apology kisses/squeezes. When he’s not as invested or he’s getting kinda sleepy he’ll either curl into your side an rest there every now an again playing with your fingers or you’re laying down an he’s laying on top of you between your legs & you will be squished after awhile but it’s ok he’s easier to smooch him an play with his curls this way. Will criticize you for watching this stupid show if he’s not into, nothing like harsh but he just doesn’t get the appeal like ??? Really this then goes on a tangent about how stupid it is. Don’t be fooled he will be sitting with you despite not being into it. ( I think he’d like the new series & sorry I am pushing this on him too but he’s not immune to the Van Gogh either— you are not allowed to say a word about it. ) over all if he’s not into the show id give him a 5/10 for watching the show.

#i dont think anyone who watches dr who rather you like it or not os immune to that van gogh episode like you jusy cant man ??#i dont know about the ithers 100% besides pesci pros & ghia if theyd have a prefernce for new or old who #i wont go back in the old man snooze— risottos the only one who isnt ‘’old’’ he just doesmt ever sleep mans alwaya on the go | the others—#— are just old men lmao they will fall asleep mid show then wake up like huh ? no i wasnt asleep hush #gelato not only snores but starles himself awake || sorbet & third like to try an mess with him while hes sleepimg they think theyre v funny #sorry again for pesci i havent a bery good grasp of how id want to write him shabsbhd #jjba #la squadra imagines #la squadra x reader #at least thats the intent eith wriitnf tbese :’)

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its5amgotosleep · 3 years

Text

Hickeys and shattered hearts / Maria Hill x Stark!reader / Natasha x Stark!reader

A/N:This one's kinda sad but also kinda cute idk

Warning: Light angst, cursing ofc.

дорогой - Sweetheart

---------------------🕸🕷----------------------

You were new to the Avenfers despite being Tony Starks sister. They didn't know he had a sister because he never told them per your request. And only introduced yourself during the battle of New York showing up in an iron suit.

Although you had already worked for Shield even before Tony did as an agent. You helped him build some of his suits, even made your own

Tony and you were slightly different from each other with you being more on the nicer and sweeter side but still had his wit and sass.

You got along with the rest of them team really well, especially with a certain red headed assassin. Natasha had gotten to like you a lot after a few years of being colleagues, though was a complete wreck at asking you out.

Now you and the Avengers are in Sokovia battling with Ultron and his iron legion alongside new additions. Pietro and Wanda Maximoff.

"So when do you think help is on the way." You blasted through the robots that were lined up. "Any minute now cavalry."

"I didn't say we should leave.." You hear Natasha as you land to the ground. "There's worse ways to go." She finishes, you open your mask to breath a little better. "This isn't exactly how I planned mine to be." You said taking a few deep breaths.

"Where else am I gonna get a view like this." She motioned about the floating country. "Only once in a lifetime." You try to see through the smoke.

"I hope you like the view Romanoff. It's about to get better." Fury says through the coms as the helicarrier emerges up from the clouds and smoke. "Nice right? Pulled her out of mothballs with a couple of old friends. She's dusty but she'll do."

"Fury you son of a bitch." You and Steve say as you looked in awe at the flying ship. "Oh, you two kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"I wouldn't really call her my mother, but yes I do kiss her with my mouth." You grinned as mask closed again ready for the second wave. Nat didn't know you were in a relatiowith someone only till a few weeks ago.

You were searching up on new technology to improve you and you brothers suits. Recently discovering about Nanotechnology, after days of research you've only managed to create a protoype for only the helmet.

You heard the door knock and said out a come in. "Hey, Y/N have you seen Bruce?" Natasha came in as you still had on the mask thst only reached the bottom of your neck.

"No sorry, haven't seen him since like an hour ago. Maybe he's in his room I guess." You shrugged as the mask slowly disappeared like it was dissolving from your face.

"Whoah how'd you do that you fuckin wizard or something." Nat looked at you surprised. "Cool right?" You grinned at her as you put the tech on a mannequin.

"I'll go find him, sorry to bother you." She smiled a little. "Yeah no problem." You focused on the computer. She was nearly out of the room when she noticed a bruise on the side of your neck.

Once you turned around a little it showed more purple and red spots on your neck. "Y/N.." She trailed as you looked up at her. "Yeah?"

"What happened to." She motioned to her neck and you looked at her in confusion. "Huh? Why? Is there something wrong?" You asked still confused.

"Look at the mirror." Her tone laced with a hint of jealously. "I don't what's- Oh!" You cut off your own sentence when you saw you reflection in the mirror. Red and purple marks scattered on your neck.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry you had to see that!" Shrieking you activated the mask again hide them and your embarrassed face.

You hit your head on palm of your habd a few times chanting to yourself that you were stupid to not notice. "Look, it's ok, I've seen worse. Do you want me to help you with it?" Nat brushed of the feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"No no, I don't want to take away more time from you. I can just cover this up with some make up." The front of the mask opened as you had a sorry smile for her. But Natasha wanted to stay longer, she wanted to stay with you.

"Ok just, just call me if you need anything." She said as you let out a final apology and a thank you. "F.R.I.D.A.Y, please call Agent Hill immediately please." You command the A.I thingking that the ex russian spy was gone.

"What is it Stark? Somethibg happened?" Maria said from the other line. Natasha hid behind a wall to eavesdrop, yes it was wrong, but she just wanted an answer to her question.

"Don't Stark me Hill, you know what exactly happened." You spat before sending a photo to her. "I can't believe you didn't tell me before I left!" You sighed running a hand through your hair.

"I don't get what- Oh, Oh!" Maria stopped midway when she saw the photo you sent. "Well you didn't exactly say anything when we were-" "Don't you dare finish that sentence Hill or I will slap you across the face." You threatened through gritted teeth.

Natasha left not needing and not wanting to hear your conversation. She only asked for Bruce to have an excuse to see you.

Now she's left to go to the gym to blow off some steam and to avoid her heart from shattering entirely.

"I think I know who you're talking about. You two together the whole night at the party right?" Clint said as he smirked at you as you flew past him.

"You're seeing someone and you didn't tell me? I feel betrayed- I am betrayed." Tony sounded genuinely upset over the fact that Clint new and not him.

"We agreed not to tell anyone, and that anyone including you brother." You said matter of factly.

You saw Clint rushing behind a rock with a little boy trying to get to cover from the iron legion who were about to rain bullets on them.

Also noticing a blue and silver trail speeding towards them, you land right infront of Pietro and Clint shielding the three from the bullets, after they were done it was your turn to start beaming at them.

"What you didn't see that coming?" Opening the front of your mask to smirk at Pietro who looked at you like you were crazy.

"After this Fury, I'm gonna take a break. I've seen enough robots for the year. Person I am seeing you owe me a date." You say taking down a few more robots.

"I am going to pretend I didn't see her nod her head and smile. Stark you two have sone explaining to do before any dates will happen." Fury eyed Maria giving the 'Really? You two?' look.

The three of you got on to one of the ships to the helicarrier. "I'm sorry for what's about to happen." You apologetically glance at Pietro about Sokovia.

"Not exactly the way I wanted my chapter to end, but I guess it's something. This is where my family was made, this was also where it was destroyed, and where my twin and I made into well.. Whatever we are." His thick accent following through every word..

After the battle with Ultron, the civilians were given the help that they needed. "Having fun staring at the wall? It's an interesting wall don't get me wrong." You smiled as you walked towards Natasha.

"What'd you call me for? You need help finding Bruce again?" You asl as she shook her head turning to fully look at you.

"Not really, I just wanted to tell you something." Nat looked nervous which surprised you for the very first time. "It's about you."

"Me?" You pointed to yourself. "I- jesus christ this is harder than I thought." Nat let out a heavy sigh as you put a hand on her shoulder. "Hey its ok, take your time." You reassured her.

"I like you." She knew that you knew what it meant and was expecting to take your hand of her shoulder but you didn't. "I'm sorry Nat I really am, you're an amazing person."

"I know you can't, that's why I'm telling you this to let it out of my chest." Sadness was evident in her tone but she had to accept the fact the you can't love her back.

"I'll go beat up Hill if she hurts you." Nat joked as you pushed her shouler lightly. "We still friends?" You mumble as you pulled her to a hug.

She reciprocated by wrapping her arms around you. "Always." She said against your shoulder. "I better not find you downing a bottle of vodka later." You threatened as she just chuckled.

"I'll try not to." She says as you pulled away from the hug to glare at her. "No promises дорогой." She playfully smirked at you.

Natasha swore to herself to be there for you until the end. Not as lovers but as friends. Always and forever

Natasha left with Steve because they were evaluating the new recuits for the Avengers, she asked you if you wanted to come with her but you declined saying you were gonna meet with someone.

"Hey.." Maria said as she leaned against a wall seeing you walk down the halls. "Hi, were you waiting for me?" You ask as you walked closer to the Agent.

"No I wasn't." She simply replied as she looked at you and smiled "Really? Cause you looked like you were waiting for me." You raised a brow at her staring at hers, cold blue eyes thst somehow radiated warmth whenever she looked at you.

"Maybe I was maybe I wasn't." She smirked at you causing you to roll your eyes by her answer. "What were you doing before going here?" She asked as you two walked together.

"Oh I jusst rejected someone." You sighed rethingking what happened earlier. "Was it Natasha?" Maria says non chalanty.

You looked at her with a 'how the fuck.' face. "How the fuck did you know?" Your eyes wide as they can be. "I've known for a while know. At first I was worried about it."

"Oh yeah? Why so?" "Because I love you and you love me, simple as that." She gave a quick peck before walking ahead of your blushing face.

"Atleast kiss me properly Agent." You caught up to her and pulled her down for a proper kiss, instinctively placing her hand on your waist.

You pulled away as Maria was about to deepen in. "Although I'd love to but I only said for a proper kiss." Now it was your turn to give her quick peck before walking ahead of her.

"This so very cringey but also so cute at the same time." Coulson solighed as he saw the whole thing happen.

-----------------------🦅🕴️--------------------

#black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romonova #natasha x reader #natasha x you

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pheita · 2 years

Text

AU Tag Game

I was tagged by @adie-dee and @catharticallysarcastic

Rules: I dare you to make an AU of a WIP on the spot and fill in the following intro categories

I tag @stormbrightwriter @writingonesdreams @stories-by-rie @writinginslowmotion @abalonetea @jaimistoryteller

AU Title: The Lust Demon’s Lair

Setting: The human dimension, millennia after the interdimensional war. The demons overthrew the humans after they attacked them and now the descendants of the humans and the descendants of remaining soldiers of elves, dwarves, and orcs live under the ruling of the demons. With the dimension organized in ministries, with each ministry being ruled by one demon family. Every decade young men and women have to be sent to the demonic minister and no one knows for real what happens to them. It is only known, that they never come back. Concept: Sojan is the only son left of Akamratit Mahelgris, the minister of Wealzaryth and has a hard time to prove his father’s trust to be rightfully laid on him after his older brother tried to assassinate their father decades ago. When the time of the sacrifices comes around again, Akamratit puts Sojan on a trial. He shall pick one of the sacrifices and make this one the first of his harem of non-demonic playthings, every adult lust demon owns. Eager to get his father’s approval, Sojan throws himself into the task. Things change when he meets Melisno, one of the young men sent as sacrifice, whose will isn’t easily broken which makes Sojan’s trial harder than he thought, because deep down Sojan would prefer to get this all done without any force. It becomes even more complicated when he learns that Melisno is part of the resistance, his sister Arritit helps them from the inside and his sister Ren and Ram lurk behind every corner waiting for him to fail.

Aesthetic: dark castles, blue and purple velvet, chunky golden riches, silk robes and cotton rags, whispers in the dark, hidden corners in the walls, eyes burning with an inner fire, contrast of bright light and deep shadows, whispered promises from broken lips, blood sprinkled cloth, luxury baths

Tiny Scene/Line: Nervously, Sojan glanced at his father. The tall, muscular man did everything he could to appear even more dangerous and threatening than he already was by nature. Of course, Akamratit had to show off with the new sacrifices arriving at the throne room. The gaze of Akamratit wandered over the thirty people of all species. If Sojan had to guess, most of them were of mixed heritage, like the majority of non-demons these days. He counted eighteen men and twelve women. Way too many just stepped into adulthood. “Do what I asked you to, Sojan. And don’t embarrass me.” The voice was low but echoed from the halls like broken light from a crystal chandelier. Sojan cleared his throat and stepped forward. Just one. He only needed one of them, get them to play along and behave around his father, so he could prove he was worthy of Akamratit’s title in a few centuries. Slowly he walked to the group. It wasn’t unusual for the sacrifices to enter the harems of one of the demons. That’s what their main existence was about. The amount of half-demons populating the castle were evidence of this. The rest would end up as maids and stable boys if they were lucky. Again, Sojan promised himself, things will change once he was in charge, but until then he had to play along. He only paid partially attention to the sacrifices until he reached almost the end of the queue. With a grunt, he made a few steps back. Piercing green eyes covered by dark curls stared at him. These unusual eyes belonged to a young man, probably in his mid-twenties, whose frame and the way he stood gave away, that he wasn’t a simple farmer. “This one, Father”, Sojan heard himself say before he consciously made a decision. Akamratit came closer and grabbed the young man by his chin, forcing him to move his head in the wished direction. “Well, well, Sojan. You got some taste. What a pity, I would have some ideas what to do with such a pretty face.” Akamratit turned to one of the guards and pushed the men into their arms. “Prepare him and bring him to my son’s chambers. And now, my turn.” Something turned in Sojan’s stomach as he saw his father’s greedy face up close. “Excuse me, I will retire.” “Yeah, whatever. I am busy.” The careless wink of his hand was all Sojan needed of Akamratit and left.

Time jumped forward like a rabbit trying to flee as Sojan made his way to his part of the castle. At least it was the furthest away from Akamratit and from Ren and Ram. These twins started to give him the creeps the moment they started talking. A knock on the door startled him. “Chezat, we prepared your plaything, as wished.” The guard from the throne room stood behind the man Sojan picked. They had washed him and put him in simple pants and a green tunic. “You are dismissed. Make sure I won’t be disturbed unless it is my father or something important.” “Of course.” The big door closed with a soft thud. The young man didn’t even look behind him. Sojan had to congratulate him for keeping his composure. “What is your name?”, Sojan started carefully. He still stood a few feet away, hoping this would come across as non-threatening as possible. “Melisno, and I am not afraid of you or your family.” “I can see this.” Melisno took a deep breath and trained his gaze in Sojan. At this moment, Sojan realized he got himself into big trouble. There was no way that Melisno would make anything easy on him. “So you aren’t going to take them off and do what you please? Or do you plan to make me feel all save before following your demonic urges?” The nod towards the jewelry meant to block parts of his magic didn’t go unnoticed by Sojan. “What by the Great Mother are you folks telling about us?” “The truth”, Melisno spat back, “Don’t think we can’t connect the dots. Even if everyone claims to not know what happens, there are whispers behind closed doors and raised handkerchiefs.” With a frustrated growl, Sojan rubbed his face, and looked at Melisno through his fingers. “Not all of us are like this.” “Yeah, sure”, Melisno sneered, “And I am the king of Wealzaryth.” “Great Mother, help me”, Sojan murmured. The plan was so easy. It was just to pick one, get them to play along long enough for Akamratit burying his paranoia and survive this craziness. It could have been so easy. But he had to pick the most stubborn men this side of the High Sea.

#writblr #writing #tag game #au tag #sojan

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keijislove · 3 years

Text

I’ll be there: Bucky Barnes X Reader

A/N: WARNING: Slight mention of PTSD, insecurity, basically Bucky not realising what a blessing to humanity he is.

Screams.

They erupted in an instant as the sound of glass shattering pierced the otherwise peaceful night. Screams were all he’d ever known. Screams sounded like music to his ears. It was just a small snippet of what people really deserved after they dared to show their faces in public, knowing the pain they had caused to this world.

Amidst the endless assassins, stood a certain soldier with eyes as dark as his name, hair long and unkempt about his face, and two arms – one regular, which clutched a gun that seemed to fire itself – and the other, made of vibranium, which was busy throttling a man.

The winter soldier.

That name commanded fear. Fear of being killed, knowing that the monster HYDRA had created didn’t have enough human in him to feel emotions like pity or regret.

Bloodlust.

That was all that James Buchanan Barnes had ever known.

“Please, please not my son!” a woman cried, watching tearfully as the winter soldier fought an urge to scoff.

Not caring in the least, he pointed the gun at a little boy of nearly seven years of age and smirked beneath his mask.

The trigger was pulled, deaf to the cries and bloodcurdling screams of the boy’s mother. A gunshot pierced through the hall filled with screams. A bullet shot towards the tiny, unsuspecting boy, reaching to hit him squarely in the head –

“NOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Bucky screamed, sitting up straight.

He looked around. Nobody was there, he was alone. Like he’d always been.

Panting slightly, he looked around, fumbling for the water jug and he poured himself a glass before taking a sip – his hands shaking so badly that the quantity of spilt water was greater than that he drank.

“Just a nightmare,” he feverishly muttered to himself, “No – no big deal, nightmare.”

His lies sounded so untruthful, even Bucky had to scoff at himself.

Just a nightmare.

If he didn’t understand himself at times, who could?

It was almost foolish to admit it, but Bucky felt something he had no way to overcome. Lonely.

His ‘friends’ were leading important lives, either with family or training at the Avengers compound, wanting to make a difference. Yet, here he sat, feeling useless.

He wanted a purpose in life – a gaping hole in his chest nothing seemed to be able to fill. Apparently, the gods had heard his prayer, for that day was one he treasured most in all of his memories.

-----

“This is the last time I’m working the night shift!” you furiously exclaimed to Leah who just shrugged, saying, “It’s not me who decides the shifts.”

“Meh, well,” you admitted guiltily, “You have a point. But you’re the only I can rant to about this prison.”

“Well, job’s a job, isn’t it?” Leah murmured.

“I guess so.”

The door of the restaurant flew open as somebody walked inside. You didn’t bother to look up, you had way to much experience and hate for this job to care who wanted to eat what.

“Welcome, I am Y/N L/N, just name whatever you want, I’m sure we have it in here and if we don’t, I’m sorry but that’s not my fault and I have been working long hours since weeks and would appreciate a little customer cooperation to ensure the safety of my mental health, okay? What do you want?” you had never talked this way to a customer before – you were known to be a polite employee, but today, you just lost your temper with life.

Receiving silence from the figure that had stopped in front of you, you looked up questioningly and your mind went blank for a second. Standing there was literal eye candy material who looked confused and slightly alarmed. You flushed – great job scaring away a finally nice guy, Y/N.

“Sorry,” you sighed after a while of staring, “Not in the greatest mood these days.”

“I can see that,” the stranger chuckled despite himself, “Rough day?”

“Month,” you corrected moodily, “What can I get you?”

“Meh, the usual, some beer please,” he said.

“Right,” you nodded, turning around, pulling faces at yourself for being so embarrassing. You blindly groped for a bottle and thrust it his way, saying, “Glass?”

“No thanks,” he waved off, uncorking the bottle and downing it, “I’m Bucky, by the way. Bucky Barnes.”

“Hey, I’ve heard of you,” you frowned.

Bucky’s heart dropped into the floors below. Of course you had heard of him. Of the countless, ruthless murders he had performed.

“You’re – that guy, right? Steve Rogers’ best friend?” you asked, “My condolences,” you added quickly.

“Yeah, thanks,” he said, “That’s me.”

“I can see you’ve been through a rough life,” you remarked causally.

“You have no idea.”

And so, Bucky began visiting your bar regularly – a feat that made your shifts more enjoyable and something to look forward to in your mundane life. Bucky understood what a stressful job could be – he felt that if he couldn’t help himself, he’d at least try to help you.

After around a month of knowing him, you decided to do something you had been gathering the balls for for weeks

As soon as you finished your night shift, you spoke, “Can I walk home with you? It’s late – and the night sort of scares me. My house a few blocks away from yours.”

You crossed your fingers and toes behind your back.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Bucky said, “I wouldn’t want you to walk alone anyway.”

Your heart rose – this was a good sign.

You grabbed your coat and threw it on, shivering slightly as both of you made your way out. You locked the door behind you and placed the keys in your pocket as you resumed walking.

“So,” you began, “How’s life going on for you?”

“Crappy, mostly,” Bucky shrugged, “I mean – there’s nothing to do. I just sit around all day, come to your bar, go home, and sit around again.”

“Sounds like a nice life,” you sighed, “I wish I had some peace. I’d trade with you any day.”

This declaration made him laugh.

Now or never, Y/N, you wimp! Do it! Ask him out!

“Hey, listen, Bucky, I was wondering,” you began as he hummed in response, “Uh... we’ve known each other for some time now... don’t take this the wrong way, but I... really, really like you.”

Bucky felt his heart drop again – this was exactly what he’d been afraid of.

“Y/N...” he began.

“It’s okay, you might not feel the same,” you hurriedly said, swallowing back a few overcoming tears.

“No, Y/N, it’s nothing like that,” Bucky assured you, “I really like you too – but are you sure you’ve thought this through?”

“Thought what – what are you talking about?” you asked, nonplussed.

“I’m just saying – think about it,” Bucky began, “You – you’d be throwing away your future – I don’t want to do that to you. You’re a smart, beautiful woman, and you honestly deserve so much better! I can’t make you happy – I can’t make myself happy, I don’t know anything about commitment. I can’t give you children or a family – and the people who know of my past – almost everyone – will look down on you, I don’t want you to have that burden. I’m – a monster, Y/N, you can’t –”

“Stop,” you whispered, shaking your head, “Stop doing this to yourself. Who on Earth – Bucky, you are not a monster. I would never think like that – and it’s okay if you can’t give me a family – all I want is you. Just you.”

“Yeah, but you’re forgetting the most important part,” Bucky whispered, “I’m dangerous. I can’t trust my own mind. Trigger words, remember? Even if I’m not a killer anymore, I’ve made a lot of enemies – I don’t want anyone to use you to get to me.”

“What if I don’t care?” you asked angrily, “Let them try. And your trigger words – nice try, Bucky, you wanna be more careful what you tell others about your past. I know that that problem was taken care of years ago. You’re jut scared to open up.”

“I get nightmares....” Bucky’s voice trailed off in a feeble attempt to coax you to change your mind.

“And now you’ll have someone to calm you down next to you,” you firmly stated.

Bucky sighed, “Coffee shop down the street, tomorrow, noon.”

“Don’t you dare be late.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, doll.”

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shatouto · 4 years

Text

another sequel to @obiwanobi's ex-sith anakin au (here and here), and at this rate… yea. yea we’re gonna have to archive this on ao3 (soon)

anyway here’s 2.8k words of tonal inconsistency

et si les étoiles sont cachées

Obi-Wan barely sleeps a wink through the night. His mind turns and whirls as he battles between second-guessing his decisions regarding the former Sith sleeping in his bed and planning on what to do going forward. Anakin knows how to cloak his own signature well enough, that much Obi-Wan can observe, but he will not stand a chance if Masters such as Yoda or Windu search his presence. And then there is the matter of the elusive Darth Sidious’ death, as well - Obi-Wan can only assume that it would be classified information on the Confederacy side, but even then, the Force only knows what kind of hell would break loose once his body is discovered. It doesn’t help that he could barely pull his hand out of Anakin’s without him frowning in his sleep and stirring. He simply has to stay put, with Anakin’s very likely feverish body pressed up against his side in a bed that is only snugly enough for two.

In meditating all of those scenarios, he forgets to account for the hell that breaks loose in his own quarters upon the return of his apprentice.

“Master, what were you thinking?” Ahsoka hisses, eyes darting from him to the closed door of his bedroom, from where the sound of Anakin’s pacing is obvious. Her hand is still clutching one of her lightsabers, alert.

“He was an injured man who crawled to my doorstep for aid, young one.” Obi-Wan sighs. “Surely you cannot expect me to simply turn my back to him, can you? That wouldn’t be the Jedi way.”

“Yes, but…” Ahsoka pinches her own forehead, shoulders dropping in a harsh exhale. “He’s a Sith lord, Master. We’ve all seen what he has done and can do!”

“He was a Sith, Ahsoka. Leading him back to the Light means one less darksider for the galaxy, and no more lives lost. I have always been trying to accomplish this.” Obi-Wan realizes, all of a sudden, that he is trying to convince himself rather than his apprentice. “He came in a moment of need, with nowhere else to go. He no longer wants to remain with the Dark.”

Ahsoka blinks. “And you just trust him? Just like that?”

Well, Obi-Wan wants to say, you didn’t see him on his knees in the hallway with blood covering half his body and bruises the other half; and you didn’t see him hang his head as you took his lightsaber and then his ruined arm off before setting him to bed. Then again, nobody would ever see that: the exact devastation and distress the once-Darth Vader was in last night, at his door. “That is the case, Ahsoka. I would like to trust him, for the time being.”

Ahsoka grumbles something about tried to kill me earlier, didn’t you see that? which of course inspires a twinge of guilt in Obi-Wan - because indeed, this borders on being a foolhardy venture, that his Padawan is dragged into solely by virtue of her sharing quarters with him. She shakes her head and speaks clearly again for him to hear. “...Fine, I get it. Where do you even plan to house him, Master?”

Obi-Wan pauses. He has had plenty of time in the night to consider this, and still he cannot find any better solution than the one he is about to suggest. “I suppose there is no place safer than here.”

“Here? You mean as in, your own quarters, in the Jedi Temple?” Ahsoka stresses on the last few words, incredulous.

Something crashes inside his room, followed by Anakin’s muffled curse. Obi-Wan looks his apprentice dead in the eye as he lets out a sigh, and says, “Yes.”

—

Anakin is strangely good at cooking.

Obi-Wan supposes he shouldn’t have presumed; after all, being a Sith apprentice should probably not interfere with the more mundane aspects of life. But not only is Anakin’s cooking distinctly above average (how did he learn enough skills to make a three-course meal out of the few basic ingredients in Obi-Wan’s pantry, and at what cost?), he also seems to undertake the task with zeal. It’s rather endearing to watch him shuffle around the kitchenette in warm beige pants that barely reach his ankles, and a left sleeve that doesn't need to be rolled up because it's already too short for his long arm.

It’s been less than a week since Anakin first comes to his door. He clearly doesn't like Ahsoka, but with one arm and no lightsaber and Obi-Wan firmly telling him to behave, he eventually, and clearly grudgingly, tolerates her presence, from time to time. The gleam in his eyes is still worrying, from time to time, but the most Anakin does nowadays when Ahsoka passes by is turn his back to her. He seems to be trying his best, which is why Obi-Wan feels immensely guilty for having to preface their meal with a rather somber question.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, as Anakin sets down before him a plate of steak that smells nearly the same as that one luxurious dish he once had while in disguise as a socialite at a prestigious fine dining party. It isn’t the materiality that is distracting, but the efforts that must have gone into it. “I would like to ask you a question.”

Anakin sits down opposite of him, balancing himself. Even with the Force, he’s unused to not having a weight elbow-down on his right hand. “What? Leftover is in the kitchen for your apprentice. If she wants it.” His voice still sharpens at your apprentice, defensive. “I didn’t mean to let her starve.”

Obi-Wan is torn between a smile and a grimace. “No, that isn’t my question, Anakin. I’ve been wondering if you knew of your allies’ plans.”

“What kind of plans?” Anakin’s eyes narrow, warily. “It depends. Dooku knew most. I just did battlefield strategy.”

“You don’t happen to know if there has been recent plans to assassinate the Supreme Chancellor, do you?” It has been on Obi-Wan’s mind ever since he was summoned to an urgent Council meeting days ago. Investigative teams reported that the Supreme Chancellor has gone missing; then midway through the meeting, another report came, and so they ended up discussing how to keep peace while the Senate would break the staggering news of the Supreme Chancellor’s death to the entire galaxy and organize an emergency election. The timing fit too well with Anakin’s arrival, and he doesn’t know what to make of it.

“Oh, there’s never any.” Anakin shrugs, tension melting out of his shoulder. He begins to cut into his steak without a care.

Obi-Wan frowns. There has been plenty of attempted assassinations before, as well as kidnapping - he himself has been sent to protect the Chancellor on many occasions. He’s loath to contradict Anakin, though, so he asks, carefully: “And you are sure?”

“I’m sure,” Anakin says, swallowing a mouthful. “My mas—Darth Sidious, is Palpatine.”

It takes Obi-Wan a stunned moment, while Anakin just continues to eat.

Well, the Council had their suspicions, but it was never so direct. Some have speculated, very privately, that the Chancellor might be linked to a darksider in some way. Perhaps somebody who is in opposition to Count Dooku, another Master has raised. But for the Chancellor *himself* to be this elusive, mysterious Darth Sidious, seems downright unfathomable.

“You…” Obi-Wan pauses, rewording the sentence in his mind for the seventh time. “I would like you to be serious, Anakin. That was not a joke, was it?”

Anakin, unsmiling, turns his eyes up to him with a look of confusion as if saying What’s a joke? “Darth Sidious is Palpatine,” he repeats. “I’m not allowed—I was not allowed to call him that, though.”

Obi-Wan takes a deep breath. The timing does line up far too well. “Anakin, that means you have... disposed of the Supreme Chancellor.”

Anakin scoffs, scrunches up his nose, and shrugs again. “If you put it that way,” he mutters, slouching down even lower as he pointedly eats his food.

Obi-Wan opens his mouth, then closes it again. He sighs at the ceiling, and picks up his fork and knife. Might as well enjoy a good meal before the migraine sets in.

—

To his own amazement, Obi-Wan is getting used to the way Anakin follows him around like a hatchling, whenever he is home.

During the first few days, it took Obi-Wan a considerable amount of patient explanation to convince Anakin not to sit on the floor at the foot of the door frame until he came back. His reasons ranged from “It’s rather undignified for you” (to which Anakin said, “I’ve done worse,” at which point Obi-Wan had to switch subjects immediately, putting a pin in it for future unpacking), to “You might catch a cold, sitting here for so long” (to which Anakin answered, “It’ll go away on its own,” which prompted Obi-Wan to check his temperature immediately, only to realize that Anakin had been cloaking his fever for at least a day, and - well, that was another pin on the board). In the end, it was only the allowance for him to use the kitchenette that kept the former Sith from waiting at the door like a hound, rather busying himself at the stove instead. It was a great decision through and through, considering how much Anakin improved the quality of their meals.

But otherwise, Anakin still makes no secret of his immediate attachment to him. Perhaps there should be no surprise in that, considering the sort of upbringing he must have suffered through; not that Obi-Wan knows much of it anyway, considering how quiet Anakin remains and how reluctant he himself is to ask personal questions. Nevertheless, from the way Anakin acted - finding his way into the Jedi Temple and declaring his trust to a sworn enemy rather than relying on his own Sith allies - it isn’t hard to infer that this man has had precious little reason to put his trust into anybody in his surroundings. It also aligns with the Sith ways, Obi-Wan speculates - and could only dare speculate, because truth be told he does not know all that much of the Sith outside of his research on ancient texts. Contemporary Sith are few. The Master might just make his own rules, and Darth Sidious - the Supreme Chancellor, Force have mercy - seemed like the type to play cruel games. So he has every reason to understand and empathize. And he truly does extend his most heartfelt compassion to this wayward Force-wielder.

That doesn’t make it any easier to deal with Anakin’s irritability whenever Obi-Wan comes back from a mission.

He’s clearly unhappy about Obi-Wan being away, especially if he discovers that the mission has been with Ahsoka. He only grows more upset and quick-tempered as time goes by; it begins with him upturning the decorative datapad shelves in the living room, escalating to a series of broken glasses and plates in the kitchenette; finally one day Obi-Wan comes back home to knives lodged in the wall, Anakin in the midst of pulling them out.

Anakin has the decency to look sheepish, even just slightly, as he silently puts away all the knives and hides himself in the kitchen completely. He cleans up, at least. In fact, he was almost always in the middle of cleaning up when Obi-Wan caught him in the act, which prompts the question: How many other times has he done this while left alone?

Obi-Wan only sighs. It does border on cruelty to keep somebody alone in these cramped quarters for weeks on end. He also knows that whatever measures he has set up to keep Anakin safe here - from the world, and from Anakin himself, - it would be a fatal oversight to underestimate the ability of a former Sith. He has no doubts that Anakin, even while one-handed and saber-less, could escape if he truly wanted to. The fact that Anakin willingly keeps himself stowed away in a Jedi’s quarters while desperately and entertaining himself through destructive means only to then be embarrassed about it… is a testament to some budding virtue, Obi-Wan supposes. And it only intensifies his guilt: it’s as if he’s taking advantage of Anakin’s trust to confine him to solitude, while he himself pushes back and back the kind of work a true mentor would need to engage in to help Anakin. The fact that he is fighting a war, or whatever is left of it, is no excuse.

It is with resolution that he stands up and heads into the kitchen. Their eyes meet as soon as he steps in; clearly enough, Anakin has been watching him. Anakin’s fingers grip the counter, knuckles blanched. Obi-Wan holds up his hands, moving as slowly and unpredictably as possible, and cuts to the chase.

“I was wondering if you’d like to go outside, Anakin.”

Anakin’s brows shoot up, but he still doesn’t unclench his jaws.

“I believe it’s rather unfair to keep you locked inside,” Obi-Wan explains. “After all, cooking can only do so much to spend all of one’s pent up energy.” He gives a small, gentle smile, inwardly anxious because of the way Anakin still looks at him with his guards up, shoulders squared, halfway between fight and flight. “I am not suggesting anything much, Anakin. Only a walk in the park, if it suits you. The decision is up to you.”

A moment or two passes in thick, awkward silence. Then Anakin, hesitantly: “Will you be there?”

It’s the first pleasant surprise Obi-Wan has had in what felt like an age. His smile grows, unbidden. “Yes, I insist.”

—

Autumn winds reel through his hair before rushing off to rustle in the foliage. The nightly air is crisp on his cheeks, and Obi-Wan doesn’t even think to tighten his robes around him; he enjoys a nice, chilly evening. Silence is alleviated by the song of insects in the grass, as they make their way down the serpentine path, round fountains and beds of flowers. Their robes flutter, and their hands are firmly linked.

It’s nothing that cannot be explained by strict necessity, or so Obi-Wan reasons: He must be able to make sure Anakin never strays from his sight, for safety reasons; and he dislikes the thought of putting any kind of binding or chains or even just a simple tied thread on Anakin. As usual, when all else fails, undertaking by hand is the solution - hence Anakin’s hand in his own, their palms warmly interfacing, their calluses fitting together.

The contact is also enjoyable, but that’s beside the point.

“I like the sky at night,” Anakin says, sudden but quiet. Obi-Wan glances at him to find Anakin not looking back at him for once. Anakin’s hood has long since slipped off because of the way he tips his head back to turn his eyes to the stars. Most of them are shrouded by gathering clouds, but some of them still shine through the dark.

“I see,” Obi-Wan muses. “May I ask why?”

For once, Anakin doesn’t hesitate to answer. “I like to look at the stars. They’re just suns, but far away. Can’t burn you, only blink at you.” Anakin’s hand tightens just a little. A patch of wildflowers gently glows when the two of them pass by. “When you blink back at them, you’re not alone.”

“And what if the stars are hidden?” Obi-Wan gestures, voice light, even as his heart sinks. He knows a lonely child, or one who used to be a lonely child, when he sees one. “What do you do then?”

The sigh that follows is lost in a gust of wind. There’s only the slightest of tremors in Anakin’s fingertips. They fall back into silence, deeper silence this time, as even the insects seem to quiet. The air feels earthy and damp with a coming rain. The sky blackens as clouds roil and thicken, and suddenly it’s dark as pitch and the comfortable coolness splinters into shivers under his skin. When the first drop falls, Obi-Wan reaches over to draw up Anakin’s hood for him. Anakin turns to him, eyes downcast.

“Then I’m alone,” he answers, belated and small.

—

“Maybe you’re right, Master.” Ahsoka picks up her steaming mug of tea, sinking comfortably into her amply cushioned seat on the couch. A strip of morning sunlight draws lazily across the room. “Whatever you’re doing, it’s working. He’s getting... nicer, lately. You should keep walking him.”

Obi-Wan chuckles at the turn of phrase. Walking him… “I don’t think it’s my doing,” he says, pouring a little more tea for himself. Anakin shuffles from one corner of the kitchenette to another, apron strings fluttering behind him. Obi-Wan shakes his head and takes a sip of tea, smiling. “I don’t think it’s my doing at all.”

#obikin #anakin skywalker #obi-wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi #ahsoka tano #star wars prequels #the clone wars #raised as sith anakin #i really did hijack clem’s au #sorry for pinging you again!#why is this so reminiscent of le petit prince all of a sudden #will that story ever stop haunting me? (no)#all aboard the woobify train yay

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o-wise-corvid · 4 years

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Okay so I had a small idea hit me this morning. So we all are about 95% sure that we’re getting Cody in the Kenobi series and most of us are pretty sure he’s gonna be in an antagonistic role. Which I’m good with. But what if between RotS and Kenobi, he somehow overcomes his chip. Wolffe and Gregor did it. Why couldn’t Cody?? But he stays in the Empire because how the heck else is he supposed to try to help his brothers and maybe strike a covert blow for good every once in a while. A man on the inside.

So a few years pass and the Empire is rounding up Force sensitive kids to either kill them if they’re too potentially powerful or turn them into assassins, Inquisitors, etc. Cody is placed in control of five of these kids for combat training. Becuase naturally. And he trains the ever loving heck out of these kids.

And he loves them. He softens the terror of the Dark Side that their other instructors instill in them and tells them about his old General. Every sting of Dark Side corruption that is leveled at the kids, he manages to soothe away and soften. It kills him a little inside when his five little ones come to him for training with burn scars from electric prods and bruises where they’ve been slapped or punched for mouthing off. He never fails to reassure them that it’s not their fault but that they must guard their tongues and thoughts. Always keep vigilant, always protect yourself. You’re better than this and you will be free one day. One day. Cody never mentions that that day will probably the last time they’ll be together.

They’re able to use the Dark Side but do not surrender to it, enough to the point that they’re more like Mace Windu, channeling the power but refusing the consuming plunge. They learn to shield their emotions like Palpatine did, disguising themselves in the Dark Side just enough to never trigger Vader’s feelers. Cody has to be careful that doesn’t let his affection be too visible but the kids know it and they all call him “Dad” when it’s just them.

Much like his brothers, Cody encouraged the kids to name themselves and lets them explore their own individuality as much as they safely can. The kids grow and are known as one of many teams to send in when there’s a serious target to be taken down. Most of the time, they’re utilized to take down old, entrenched Sep forces and they do such a stellar job that everyone begins idolizing them. They spend loads of time training, meditating and keeping fit when they’re not in the field, which isn’t terribly often. Which is how Cody likes it because they’re his babies. They all get matching tattoos like Cody’s scar. They all wear gold accented armor and carry yellow lightsabers in Cody’s honor as well. They call themselves “Sunshine Squad” in private.

The bond between them in the Force is almost symbiotic, to the point that they can marshal their abilities together to overpower an enemy that might otherwise kill any one of them alone. They echo the Clones heavily in that alone they can be easily overwhelmed but together, they can be a wall.

So one day Cody comes to them with a mission from himself, a defensive mission rather than an offensive one. Another team is being sent to Tatooine on the possible trail of a Jedi. Cody thinks he knows who it is and he can’t just sit by and watch this happen. So he sends his babies and makes sure they know that Kenobi will probably either be horribly difficult to find or he’ll attack them outright with everything he’s got. (See Uutapau?!) The kids leave; they’re grown but that’s how Cody thinks of them collectively. He silently prays that the General won’t overreact and kill one of them.

Kenobi does indeed rush them in “hello there” style and the kids are just trying not to die while also trying to convince him to chill his paranoid butt all the way down and listen. The eldest, a young woman who actually resembles Cody, finally pulls everybody together and collectively, they Force lift and restrain Kenobi long enough to keep him from killing any of them. He’d dropped his lightsaber in the fight and she scoops it up. She marches right up to him and just smacks him in the chest with it. “Now,” she pants, “are you dead?”

Kenobi just sort of stares at her.

“What?”

“Did I just kill you?” she demands solidly, eyes boring into Kenobi’s.

“No...” he answers cautiously. “If I could’ve just now, wonder why I didn’t.” She continues in a slow, methodical conversation to get Kenobi to arrive at the conclusion on his own rather than hand it to him. Cody encouraged her to do this should a confrontation arise.

“Uh... you don’t want to?” he finally guesses.

The woman patiently nods. “That’s right. Now take this blasted thing before you lose it again.” And everyone slowly lowers Kenobi to his feet. He begins sensing something familiar and not unwelcome. He can’t place a finger on what he’s feeling, like it’s a smell from childhood that evokes a pleasant but unclear memory. And then he sees it. His old friend, the Clone Commander in gold, is literally stamped on each of these people, in the way they talk because they’ve all picked up Cody’s accent, the way they stand and especially the way they fought. One of them tackled him in the one-sided fight; it was like being hit by a gundark. Another had performed a truly beautiful kick to defend herself from his lightsaber, knocking it out of his hand. And the same person had returned it.

“You’re not Sith,” he ventures, still holding his lightsaber in a ready defense pose.

“Search your feelings,” one of the younger ones responds. “We didn’t even raise our sabers to you. If we were Sith, aggression would be our leading edge, don’t you think?”

“Who are you?” Kenobi asks, almost daring not to hope.

The whole group smiles at each other and replies in perfect unison: “Sunshine Squad. Captain Cody sends his regards.”

The woman introduces herself as Gaia, then there’s the twins: Soren and Rex (he chose his name when he asked Cody who his favorite brother was). The other girl is Kali and the youngest is Shriek.

The leader clears her throat. “General, you’re in danger and we need to get somewhere secure before the real strike team lands. We have an hour at the most, sir.” And Obi-Wan hears Cody that time. It might as well have been the man standing right there.

So, he takes them to his little hut. And they all just stop dead about 100 yards away and a chorus of “This is not secure” shaded comments.

“Well, I’ve always managed to defend it when I needed to,” Obi-Wan says, a little offended. He receives five polite but firm looks that are all basically this. 👇🏻

If y’all want more, I have more in my head. But this post is big enough.

Here’s more

Aaaand some more

And here’s a link to the first part of my fic

#star wars #commander cody #obi wan #tiny little idea I had that made me smile #captain rex #temuera morrison

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writer-panda · 3 years

Text

The Hit on the Groom and What Became of It - Chapter 4/I’ll never let you down (in an open casket)

Chapter 1 -|- Previous -|- Next

The Hit on the Groom and What Became of It - Chapter 4/I’ll never let you down (in an open casket)

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As she hanged up, Marinette rushed to the doors and let her mother in. The previous night she spent mostly on working with Kwamis to prepare. Most were in agreement that she needed to act and not leave her kitty’s fate to chance. Tikki protested for a bit, but in the end, she saw that there was no changing Marinette’s mind and joined in on scheming. Except she had no way of tracking Adrien. Not… until she received the call!

Except now her mother entered. Sabine greeted her daughter by giving her a bone-crushing hug.

“I was so worried! When the police called I couldn’t just sit there and wait!”

“Maman. It’s alright. I’m okay. See?” The girl did break away from the hug and smiled.

“I know. But I couldn’t help but worry.”

“Maman… Adrien’s been kidnapped.”

“I know.” Her mother’s expression didn’t reveal any emotions now.

“I… he’s been miserable ever since that wedding mess, and now this.”

“I know.” Again, nothing.

“He’s my friend.”

“Not the love of your life?” Sabine questioned with a bit of amusement in her voice.

“No. He doesn’t need another fangirl. He needs a friend. Someone who can support him. I… I wasn’t a good friend before this…” She didn’t reveal that she wasn’t a great partner either. Chat hid things well, but from time to time his shell cracked. She should’ve seen the signs. She could’ve done something. Or at least do something with Lila. She had connections and Lila deserved a lawsuit or five.

“Oh, sweety. You were a great friend. You are a great friend. I’m happy to see you’re not about to chase after some misguided love, but after friendship.”

“I know I’m only… wait, what?” Marinette.exe stopped working. If the problem keeps repeating itself, please contact customer service or the nearest Kwami.

“When I was fifteen, I dropped out of… school to explore the world on my own. It wasn’t until a few years later that I met your father.” Sabine said in a bit dreamy voice like she was reminiscing. “We had several adventures across Europe before finally settling down in Paris.”

“But… Papa’s a baker.” Marinette protested. “I thought he was always a baker, like his father.”

In response, her mother chuckled. “No. Your father had much more in common with your Nona than with his father. I met him when he was fighting in an underground cage-fighting club.”

“Whoa…” Marinette’s eyes widened. That was a story she never heard before. “So how did you two got together?”

“I will tell you some other time. The point is, I know that even if I took you to Paris with me, you would’ve run away to look for your friend.”

“Maman!” For a moment, the girl wanted to protest. But then she decided that there was no point. “Yes… you’re right. But I can’t just let it happen! If the police find him, he will end up back with his father!”

“I know. And what’ll you do about it?” Her mother had this mysterious smirk on her face.

“I guess… I need to be the one to find him. I will get him situated somewhere safe. Maybe stay with him for a bit. He’s smart. And a quick learner.” He mastered being a superhero faster than I did.

“Good. Then you have my blessing.”

“I can’t just abandon-” Marinette.exe stopped working again. Contacting the customer service might be in order. Technically, Sabine kept hinting about it. Practically, Marinette would miss a clue even if she was holding a gun to its head. “I have your what now?”

“You can go. Save him. Find yourself. And maybe kick some asses while you’re at it.”

“Most parents would be worried sick about their not-yet-adult children running off to an adventure.”

“You wanted to know how I met your father. The answer is I was the first to beat him in that cage.” Sabine’s smirk was replaced with a serious expression. “Of course I will worry, sweety. I’m your mother. But holding you back now will not help you. You’re a strong young woman and to be fair, I’m not sure how we could hold you down. You have steady access to the rooftop and two years of parkour training.”

“What now?”

“Did you honestly think we wouldn’t notice you sneaking off through the balcony?”

“And you didn’t even tell me?”

“It would be hypocritical of us.” Sabine defended. “And if the worse came to happen, I had several… souvenirs from our travel around the world.”

“Thank you, Maman. I promise I will come back; And call you often. Well, maybe not too often.” Marinette already dashed to start packing.

“Of course you will. And don’t get into too much trouble. I would hate to have to go and find you.” Sabine threatened with a bright smile on her face.

“I’ll try, Maman.” The girl was only half-listening now. She couldn’t waste any more time. She learned how to trace the call about one-and-a-half years ago when she was still a bit ‘stalker-ish’.

Sabine watched her daughter with amusement. So many memories returned to her now. Youth mostly well-spent if someone asked her. The ‘mostly’ part came to bite her just that moment as her phone pinged. She quickly checked the message and frowned.

“I’m sorry, my little cupcake, but I need to go check it. An old friend turns out to be in town.”

“I’ll call you later!” Marinette called from where she was furiously working on her laptop.

When Sabine left, the kwamis swarmed her immediately.

“Your mom is so cool!” one of them cooed.

“And she’s one bad-”

“Roaar!” Tikki scolded the tiger kwami.

“What’s the plan, pigtails?”

“Adrien’s call was made from within Gotham City. He’s still here for now. I also managed to track him to Burnley.”

“Didn’t that mercenary you called mention some Lawton?” Trixx offered.

“Yeah. I did try to search him up, but the only one with that name that I managed to find is Zoe Lawton. Wait. There is more!” She beamed up. “An old article in some Mexican newspaper.” She clicked on the link and read it aloud for her co-conspirators “Floyd Lawton, also known as Deadshot, was recently arrested after an assassination of a small group of smugglers. It is yet unknown if it was a hit or was it personal.” The article went on, but there was nothing more of interest.

“So the guy’s a mercenary too? That’s good. He’ll bring Adrien to you.”

“Not so fast. I remember hearing about him. Deadshot is one of the few mercenaries who try to keep some resemblance of a code. He’s also noted to be soft around children.”

“Isn’t Adrien almost an adult though?” Kaalki asked rather uncaring.

“Have you met the guy? He’s a literal ray of sunshine!” Plagg protested.

“So… he won’t deliver him and won’t return him.” Seeing that some Kwamis didn’t understand her logic, she clarified, “I don’t think that if he learns how Gabe treated his son he will be in any hurry to return him.”

“That makes sense.” The little being all nodded in agreement.

“So what’s the alternative?”

“He could adopt him,” Ziggy suggested.

“Please.” Marinette dismissed the idea. “He’s not Bruce Wayne.”

“He could smuggle him out of the country.”

“No. Everyone’s looking for him.” Roaar countered. “He would try to lay low somewhere.”

“Burley is large and full of potential safe houses.” Marinette started to think. “But there is also a large concentration of organized crime. Alone, we would have a hard time, but if we got them to help…”

“Is it wise to involve more criminals into your schemes Marinette?” Tikki asked skeptically.

“Don’t worry, sugarcube. To catch a bird you need wings. To catch a criminal you need crime.”

“I’m not sure that’s how it works.”

“What’s the worse that could happen? I will go there as Seamstress. I won’t even appear in person. Right, Trixx?”

“You can count on it.” The fox kwami grinned.

“But… but…” Tikki wanted to scream her head off. Why did the previous guardian choose a juvenile criminal for her holder. Marinette used to be such a sweet girl. Where did Tikki go wrong?

---------

It was dark when an eerie mist filled one of the less-than-legal clubs in Burnley. From among the smoke, a figure entered. She was wearing a godet-type black dress with a side-cut that reached to her belt. The dress was overlayed with a very visible deep-blue corset that pronounced her blue eyes. It had some intricate laces on it. She also wore a puffy-sleeved blazer (also black, but with a dark blue finish) with large and very pronounced cuffs. Around her neck was a white double jabot fixed to a choker with a large black gem surrounded by diamonds. Her long deep-blue hair was let loose and hung over her shoulder. A simple black-and-white domino mask hid her features.

As she marched, one of her legs shifted the fabric to reveal she was wearing dark-blue socks reaching above her knee and black leather boots. A knife was strapped to the right one and several leather strips around her thigh and knee suggested she had more weapons on her.

One of the men whistled.

“Looks like the entertainment arrived, boys!” Several cheered at that shout. At least until the man who dared to say it ended pinned to a wall with a rather large needle holding his jacket in place. It was also uncomfortably close to his jugular.

“I’m not entertainment.” The Seamstress hissed.

“Then you’re not invited.” Several men got up, many were holding now-empty bottled which they turned into impromptu weapons.

“You will help me find what was taken from me.” She demanded.

“Yeah? Or?” One of the men laughed before charging at her.

What followed next was perhaps the strangest carnage Gotham City has seen in years. The Seamstress danced between the attacks with almost unnatural grace and agility while stabbing the attackers in various places with large needles. None of the hits were life-threatening and most would heal within hours. The wounds were meant to incapacitate with minimal long-term damage.

By the time she reached the far end of the bar, almost every man was laid out on the ground groaning in pain or scrambling in fear.

“I am not asking. You will be rewarded for your obedience.” She then disappeared into the back alley. One brave/foolish enough who still had some fight left rushed after her, only to find the place completely empty.

On the rooftop, Marinette let out her breath. She didn’t use any miraculous for that one, but she kept Plagg’s ring on. Chat Noir wasn’t seen in some time, so it would’ve been easier to explain that the ring was stolen by a criminal. She would really need to thank her mother for all the training she forced on her ever since the Akumas started to appear, as well as the lessons during her childhood. Those were all only the most basic grunts tonight, but she got their attention. One of them would run to their boss. There, she could actually do what she planned.

--------

Just like she predicted, some of the less injured guys left the bar in hurry and drove their bikes to another part of the district. They disappeared into a three-story building. The windows were boarded, but some light seeped through on the top floor, so that is where she climbed. Indeed, by hanging on the edge of the window sill, she was able to hear the panicked screams inside.

“...and then she just disappeared! It was like that damn Bat, only much more terrifying. She was so small, and yet there was this… this… aura of power.”

Thank you Chloe for being queen B. Marinette stifled a laugh. Mimicking Chloe was the right choice.

“Probably another one of his useless brats.” The boss dismissed them. Marinette decided that it would make the best impression if she contradicted him right now.

She wondered for a moment how to enter the armored building. She could rip the boards away and enter that way, but she was aiming for ethereal, not brute. In the end, she pulled a pair of glasses and put them over her mask.

“Kaalki. Would you please help me break into headquarters of a criminal organization to scare them into serving me?”

“How many sugar cubes is it worth?”

“Ten. No more, no less.” Marinette had a small window of opportunity.

“You’ve got a deal.”

“Kaalki! Full gallop!” The light enveloped Marinette. When it died down, she was still in her outfit, only now the blue accents were brown instead. The gem on her neck held the symbol of a horse miraculous. “I love magical clothes. So easy to maintain the image.” Marinette muttered before a blue portal opened before her and she entered.

Inside, the five men (two who came to report, the boss, and his two guards) watched as the blue portal opened before them. The mist started to pour through it as well as through the boarded window. A figure calmly stepped inside.

“I didn’t expect the Gotham criminal organizations to be so… cliche.” She commented. Two needles sailed through the air and pinned the guards to the wall. Her horseshoe weapon waited patiently on her back should she need to use it.

“Who… who’re you?”

“Me? Oh. I’m The Seamstress. I had business in Gotham, but a fool dared to double-cross me. I need to find him.”

“Why… W-why shou-should w-we help… help you?” One of the guys from the bar asked.

“Oh. I’m not asking. I’m telling you that you’ll help me.” She informed. “I’m about to make you an offer you shouldn’t refuse.”

The boss was now shaking. Damn city with its damn overpowered supervillains. They think they can simply run things as they want. First Red Hood took out most of the top brass of the underworld and then this? Working on his father’s farm was sounding more and more appealing. Then there was the shouldn’t. The reference to the classic movie was not lost, but she said shouldn’t. Not can’t. Once more he remembered how Red Hood took over. Submit, or die. This was the same. She clearly wouldn’t hesitate. He liked to think he could see those things.

“I’m waiting.” The lady growled. “I’m not used to waiting.” Channeling Chloe is actually fun here.

“Fine. You can have my seat. I’m going back to dad’s farm. Just let me go and you can have them.” The boss stood from his seat and motioned for her.

Marinette.exe is not responding. Do you want to execute the process? Not yet.

She managed to keep enough cool to smile and take the seat, although she didn’t even register what was that.

She would panic later. For now, tracking Adrien. “I need to find where Floyd Lawton, also called Deadshot, is hiding with my… asset.”

“It… I will see to it, Boss… lady.” One of the guys from the bar nodded very fast before rushing out of the room.

“I… will bring you the list of current assets.” One of the guards informed and walked somewhere. They were used to aggressive takeovers. This was their third. Boss change, guards remain. This was honestly the first time the previous boss managed to escape with his life.

Meanwhile, Marinette finally realized what just happened. She really wanted to hit her head on the desk, but she was too afraid to show any signs of weakness. Why did she end up in this mess again?

----------

Sabine Cheng was waiting for her plane back when an airport guard approached her.

“Lady Cheng?” Sabine’s blood froze for a moment, but she refused to show any outward reaction at her past codename. “There is a man who wishes to discuss some… past debts.”

Damn it. And here she thought that bald bastard would forget about her. He had several more suitable people. He knew the risks of angering her.

Then again, she knew not to anger him either.

“Lead the way.” Her face was stone cold as she stood up.

Inside a comfortable private lodge sat a blad man in a suit more expensive than the yearly revenue of her bakery.

“Ah… Lady Cheng. I’m so happy you could’ve joined us.”

Sabine looked around and noticed that there was another man there, standing slightly in the shadows. A man she came to despise just as much as Luthor. Standing there was Gabriel Agreste.

“I can’t return the pleasure, Luthor.” She snarled, not letting her gaze drop from Agreste.

“Figured you’d say that.” The billionaire laughed. “But it doesn’t change that you came.”

“Be quick. I’ve got a plane to catch.”

“About that.” Lex smiled. “I’m afraid you won’t be on that plane. I need you to do something for me.”

“Sadly, my calendar is full for the foreseeable future.” She retorted coldly.

“Then you will clean it. Unless that is, you want me to tell my good friend the president about your little assignment for me twenty years ago. If I recall, your pardon didn’t cover that particular crime.” The man chuckled.

The only upside of this whole situation to Sabine was that Agreste finally realized exactly who she was. Or at least how dangerous she was. The deal she made ensured that Lady Cheng disappeared from everywhere but some people’s memory. To her dismay, Lex didn’t forget. And he still had that damning evidence.

She also knew exactly what was the job.

“I don’t do jobs involving kids, Luthor.” She seethed through gritted teeth. It wouldn’t matter, but she hoped it would at least give him a pause.

“Adrien Agreste was about to be married. I think that can calm your conscience. He was all but adult.” That despicable man dismissed her concern, as she predicted.

“I’m a little rusty. Don’t you have someone younger? Someone who would actually want to do this?” Sabine deadpanned. She kept true to the deal she made for her and her husband’s pardon and didn’t do any… extracurricular work.

“Alas, the fact you’re unwilling is why I need you. You see, the client, whoever they are, picked Agreste Jr. as a target in a… battle royale of sorts. It quickly stopped being about the ludicrous money reward. It’s now about proving who’s the best. And they won’t stop until they deliver him to that mysterious Seamstress.”

“So what do you want? I’m sure you could’ve bought some of them to drop the glory part.” She really didn’t want to do this.

“I offered to pay five times the price, but most of the competent ones want a shot at whatever that job is. A mysterious benefactor with no history, nonexistent in any database in the world, paying a small fortune for a simple job and offering further work? Doesn’t it sound familiar?” Lex reclined in his chair and smiled.

“One job only. I want everything you have on me. And ten times the bounty.” She noted his discomfort. “Don’t give me that look, Luthor. You can afford it. My daughter’s about to start a university.” Sabine turned to Gabriel. “I must thank you for the idea. Homeschooling really helps when one is gifted.”

“I’m sure we can come to an agreement,” Lex grumbled. If he didn’t know the quality of her works, he would’ve laughed at the price. Except he foolishly revealed that he was desperate.

“Oh, I’m sure we can.” Sabine smiled. She was like a cat that just caught a mouse.

#maribat #miraculous #ladybug #miraculous ladybug #mlb #mlb x dc #dc #DC comics #dcu #batman #Hit on the groom

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army-author · 4 years

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jimin scenario | in for a treat

❝ as you grow up together, you and jimin celebrate halloween in your own special way. with the passing of the years, your relationship continues to blossom while the trees shed their leaves... ❞

➝ prompt: i’ve never celebrated halloween before, but it’s your favourite holiday. you’re determined to make my first halloween the most exciting holiday ever. i’m loving the enthusiasm, but isn’t this a bit much?

➝ pairing: slytherin jimin x slytherin reader

➝ genre: fluff, hogwarts au, friends to lovers

➝ requested by anon | 8.5k words

➝ warnings: implied smut

➝ author’s note: sorry that this is so late. i had this written before halloween, but never got the time to edit it until now, so apologies if it’s weird reading such a heavily halloween themed fic in november. i hope everyone enjoys it, regardless! i think i may have strayed a little from the prompt, but hopefully all the fluffy moments are worth it!

Halloween was never a holiday that interested you. At least that’s how it used to be…

Growing up with a non-magic family, the festivities had never seemed that interesting. You couldn’t figure out the appeal of a holiday dedicated to something you didn’t believe in. The ghosts, the ghouls, the whispers of magic on the air – it all appeared juvenile. Of course, you would buy the occasional pack of sweets for the school children that scurried around the neighbourhood, demanding treats on every doorstep. However, you never went out to celebrate yourself, uninterested in the costumes, the decorations, or the general air of mischief that circulated that that time of year. You had no rose-tinted nostalgia for the holiday, and no desire to dress up or carve Jack-o-lanterns.

All this changed when you met Jimin.

When you had first received your letter from Hogwarts, both you and your parents had been shocked. You had no idea up that magic even existed, and yet, there was the letter in your hands, screaming the contrary to all you believed. A well constructed prank? The look on your parents’ faces suggested otherwise. Your parents explained to you that magic truly did exist, and while they themselves were non-magical, one of your aunts was actually a witch, who had also attended Hogwarts in her youth.

With that revelation, your life flipped on its head.

After a summer spent pleading with your parents to let you go, you finally arrive at Hogwarts, filled with wonder at the new world you’ve uncovered, and amazed that your family were able to hide this from you for so long. Sorted into Slytherin, you find yourself surrounded by witches and wizards who are already familiar with this alien lifestyle – students who’ve been watching Quidditch matches since they were babbling babies, and who are already familiar with simple spells. New and alone, you find yourself estranged from your peers.

That is, until your first Halloween at Hogwarts.

✽ ✽ ✽

[First Year – October 31st]

On the night of October the thirty first, the girls in your dormitory are preparing for the Halloween feast, with excited chatter, tying up their hair, putting on their robes, and admiring themselves in the mirror.

You sit on the edge of your bed in your robes, swinging your feet, and feeling out of place, like a pulled muscle. You’re unsure of the customs of witches and wizards, and are sweating at the thought of messing up tonight, doing something that will instantly single you out as muggle born. Nerves clamouring as you listen to two of the girls, Padma and Beatrix, whispering about all the possible treats you’ll be served that evening, all of which you’ve never even heard of before, you decide that waiting around in the dorm is just making you feel worse. You get up and walk out of the dormitory, heading to the common room. You were hoping to avoid the commotion, but soon realise your mistake, having only walked further into the confusion. A group of boys are huddled in the corner, helping each other with their ties, while a gaggle of girls giggle in the other corner, glancing at the older boys who walk past with robes billowing. Some prankster has set off a magical miniature firework which crackles dangerously close to the green tapestries hanging from the wall.

You swallow, feeling all the more daft as you watch, excluded, while the rest of your peers enjoy themselves.

“Hello.” Startled, you spin around to the source of the voice.

A boy stands in front of you. You recognise him to be Park Jimin from your potions class. You haven’t spoken to him at all, but have often noticed him – for his undeniably friendly demeanour and his distinctive laugh which always travels around the potions class, followed by the shout of “Park Jimin, and Kim Taehyung! What is so dreadfully funny that you deign it appropriate to interrupt our lesson?”

Unsure if Jimin is speaking to you, you glance around to see if there’s anyone else, and then, suddenly mute, point to yourself.

Jimin laughs. “Yes, I’m talking to you.”

“Oh… Uh, right… sorry. Hi.”

“I didn’t mean to spook you,” Jimin says, a smile playing on his lips at your lost expression, “You just looked a little lonely, so I thought I’d put you out of your misery.

He must have noticed the alarm passing across your features, as he quickly continues, “Oh, Merlin, that sounded like I was planning your assassination or something! I just meant, I wanted to talk to you, since I didn’t want you to be by yourself.”

You laugh, “Well, thank you. I must have looked pretty pathetic, huh?”

“No… well… maybe.”

You open your mouth in mock shock, and then shrug, “It must be super obvious I’m new to all of this.” You gesture to the robe you’re wearing, and clear your throat, lowering your voice, “I’m… from a muggle family.”

You know that wizards and witches from muggle families are a lot more happily accepted by the magical community than they used to be, but it is whispered that some Slytherins still cling to elitist ideals about pure blood magic wielders. You had been both surprised and nervous when you were sorted into Slytherin on your first day. Despite this, you feel at ease explaining to Jimin, who’s currently smiling at your with a friendly curiosity.

“Ah,” Jimin nods, “This must all be very strange for you then.”

“Yep. It wasn’t until my letter from Hogwarts that I even believed that magic was real!”

Jimin’s eyes go wide, “I can’t even imagine what that must be like.”

“On top of that,” you continue on, your barriers breaking down as you easily chat with Jimin, “My family were never really into anything that even hinted at magic or the supernatural, so we never celebrated Halloween!”

You didn’t think Jimin’s eyes could widen further, but he manages to surprise you. “You what?”

A blush rises to your cheeks, and your eyes dart to the floor, suddenly embarrassed. “Yeah… not once.”

“Well, not to worry,” Jimin says, “Look at it this way – this is going to be the best Halloween of your life.”

You can’t argue with that.

“You’re in for a treat,” Jimin assures you, and you grin.

Around you, the crowd of Slytherin students have begun to meander out of the common room. “It must be time for the feast to start,” Jimin is bouncing on his toes in excitement. Feeding off his energy, you cannot help but feel excited yourself, despite not knowing what to expect at all. You follow him down the maze of corridors that make up the old school, leading you towards the Great Hall.

Entering through the grand doors, your mouth involuntarily falls open. Carved pumpkins float above the tables, casting a delicate glow over the array of delicious treats on display. There are plates piled high with tender meats, savoury pies and glazed vegetables. Sweets of all varieties sit in carved pumpkin bows, overflowing with colour.

You follow Jimin to the Slytherin table, where he offers for you to sit next to him. Across from you, at the Hufflepuff table, Jimin’s friend, Taehyung, waves at the two of you frantically.

Jimin grins and waves back, before turning his attention to you. “Well? First impressions?”

“This is all so amazing,” you gush, still transfixed by the wonderful foods piled in front of you. A mixture of delicious scents sing in your nostrils.

You wait patiently while the headmaster rumbles through his speech, welcoming each and every one of you to the feast. You’re salivating when you are finally allowed to start on the food. Despite knowing you should start with the savoury food first, your eyes are drawn, irresistibly, to the sweets. You reach for a handful of jellybeans from one one the plates in front of you. Just as you stuff a handful into your mouth, JImin catches sight of you and begins shaking his head vigorously in warning.

Too late. A cacophony of foul tastes hit your tongue. You’re not sure what you’re supposed to be tasting, but it is not good. Eyes watering, you try not to gag.

“Here, here!” Jimin hands you a napkin, and you discreetly spit out the barely chewed mouthful, folding the napkin over a few times, hiding your faux pax in shame.

“What on God’s green earth was that?” you ask, hurrying to take a sip of water.

“Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans,” Jimin explains , “They’re well known, but I guess you haven't grown up with wizard snacks… Basically, eating one is a gamble. You could get a delicious one. Or you could get an absolutely disgusting flavour. They’re made to cover any possible flavour under the sun. Some of the worst include skunk’s spray and vomit.”

“So that’s what that was...” You try not to think of it, despite the ghost of bitterness haunting your tongue.

Jimin chuckles, “I thought you were being incredibly brave eating so many all at once…”

“I’m new to all of this,” you remind him. Having regained your composure somewhat, you give him a nudge, “I dare you to taste one too. Just so I’m not alone in making a complete fool of myself.”

Jimin grins, “Okay, I’m up for a dare.” He roots around in the bowl, picking out a red one, which he pops in his mouth. “Mmm… cherry.”

You frown, “That’s cheating. You must have known red would be good!” You pick up a red one yourself and place it on your tongue, only to have the disgusting taste of liver clamber across your taste buds. You don’t need to tell Jimin how disgusting this bean is. Your face says it all, as Jimin begins laughing. You begin searching for the napkin again, but Jimin says, “No, no, you’ve committed. You gotta swallow now.”

You open your eyes wide, begging, but he continues, “I dare you.”

Your brows furrowing in effort; it takes all your strength not to retch as you swallow. “That’s not fair,” you say, “How come I got so unlucky?”

Jimin shrugs, “There’s about a fifty percent chance you’ll get something nice.”

You cross your arms on the table, “I still think you must have cheated somehow.”

“How about you try something tasty instead?” Jimin gestures to the other nice looking foods in front of you.

Your brow crinkles, “How am I supposed to know there aren’t other weird foods you wizards eat?”

Jimin begins spooning things onto your plate, “Don’t worry, these are all good. Cross my heart.”

You watch him pile foods higher and higher until you beg, ‘Stop, there’s no way I can eat that much!”

“Sure, but you gotta at least try a little bit of everything,” Jimin encourages, so you pick up a fork and make your way around the plate, sampling every flavour. You start with the meats, which are just as tender as they look. The chicken melts in your mouth, and the gammon is sweet and salty in the best possible way. The vegetables come next. You’ve never been a big fan of vegetables, but these could make you rethink that stance. The carrots are sweet, glazed with a honey dressing, and the parsnips are well seasoned. But the main stars of the show are the desserts. A myriad of flavours hit your senses, each one more delicious than the last. Sweet spices, creamy caramels, and smooth frostings all harmonising a ballad on your tongue, making you squirm in your seat with joy.

“Are they good?” Jimin asks, and you nod enthusiastically, mouth still full. “What’s your favourite?”

You point at one of the pastries as you swallow the last bite, “It’s all good, but I think this one is the best.

“Mmm, apple and redcurrant tart,” Jimin nods in approval, “That one’s good.”

There’s still so much food piled on your plate, but you’re too full to take another bite. You lean back, and sigh contentedly, gazing up at the starry sky that spreads out above you, stars winking down.

“I may be new to Halloween, but I could certainly get used to this,” you say.

“We’ll just have to try and make next year all the more exciting then,” Jimin says, and you give him a grin.

“Challenge accepted.”

✽ ✽ ✽

[Second Year – October 28th]

“We’ve got to make this Halloween better than the last year!”

Jimin is sat cross legged under a crooked tree, leaves just staring to turn orange and gold. You’re standing next to him, well wrapped up, not enjoying the cold that autumn brings with it, as you stamp your numb feet and rub your frozen hands together.

“Oh yeah,” Taehyung grins up at you from his spot next to Jimin, “You don’t normally celebrate Halloween, do you?”

You shake your head, at him, and his grin grows all the wider, and all the more rectangular.

“How do we top last year?” Jimin wonders, while Taehyung struggles with opening a chocolate frog pack.

“You don’t have to try and top it,” you say, finally taking a seat next to Jimin, and immediately regretting it as cold seeps into your rear. You pull your cloak around you. “Last year was fun. And next year can be fun too...”

“We could throw a party!” Taehyung burst out, interrupting you.

“Would we even be able to host one?” you ask.

Jimin’s brows are furrowed in thought. “That could be a good idea,” he says, and Taehyung smiles in pride, as he finally gets the chocolate frog pack open, only to watch as the chocolate frog hops away, finally freed from its cardboard cage.

“No, come back,” Taehyung digs in his pocket for his wand, but It’s already too late, the frog has hopped into the bushes, out of sight. Taehyung sighs, then digs in the pack for the card. “Hmm, Salazar Slytherin,” he says, staring at the card inside, “I already have him.”

“I don’t,” Jimin pipes up, “I’ll trade you the rest of my sherbet lemons for him.”

Taehyung nods, and you watch the two boys exchange, wondering what all the fuss is about. Jimin shows you the card, where a man poses proudly. You’ve got used to seeing pictures that move on paper, but you’re still always mildly impressed.

“You’re still missing the important detail that we don’t have anywhere to host a party,” you point out, and Taehyung shrugs, as he pops a sherbet lemon in his mouth:

“We can just use a common room. The Hufflepuff common room is close to the kitchen, and you don’t need a password or anything to get in. I bet I could get some of my Hufflepuff friends to help set up.”

“When would we do this?” you ask, giving in reluctantly to Taehyung’s infectious excitement.

“We can do it after the Halloween feast,” Taehyung suggests, and Jimin nods in agreement.

“This sounds great,” he says, glancing at you in anticipation, “What do you say?”

“I’m in.”

The two boys cheer.

✽ ✽ ✽

[Second Year – October 31st]

The next few days pass in a flurry, with Jimin and Taehyung passing notes around the classrooms, letting other students know of your plans. As only students from their respective houses are normally allowed in their house common room, each student is told to keep the plans a secret from the professors.

As the evening finally arrives, Jimin is a ball of energy, struggling to contain his smile, as you walk down to the Great Hall for the feast.

All the way through the feast, you can’t help but think about what’s to follow, excited about the party that is in store later.

As soon as the feast ends, you follow Jimim along with the few other Slytherins who are going o the party, walking with the rest of the Slytherins, heading back towards the Slytherin common room. At one of the turnings on the way, you and Jimin make a left off the normal route, and begin to make your way back, following stairs down to the basement where the Hufflepuff common room is located. Reaching the door, you give the secret knock you had arranged with Taehyung beforehand.

His head pops around the door, a conspiring grin on his face as he lets you in. The Hufflepuff common room is round, with circular windows close to the ceiling which give a view of the darkness outside. House plants line the shelves of the room, some dripping their leaves down the earthy walls. Taehyung and his friends have added orange and gold streamers, with carved Jack-o-lanterns grinning from the alcoves and crevices.

“Ta-da,” Taehyung spreads out his arms, spinning around to show off his – and his friends’ – hard efforts.

“This is amazing, Taehyung,” you tell him, and he gives a wide smile:

“There’s more, come take a look at this!”

You let him lead you and Jimin over to a table stacked high with sweets. “I managed to scrounge these from the kitchens.” He gives a wink, “This is why it’s good to be friendly with the cooks. Hope you saved room.”

You hadn’t saved much, and you eye the sweets sadly, afraid that any more food would make you pop. There’s even apple and redcurrant tart. You cast it a wistful look, before letting yourself be distracted by Jimin and Taehyung.

Slowly, other students begin to trickle into the common room, some of them older students, most in the same year as you. Music begins to float from a corner of the room, and so, you grab Taehyung and Jimin, lading them to the centre of the room, where a few other students have started dancing.

Swaying in time with the music, you laugh as Taehyung and Jimin goof around in front of you, clapping along to the beat. The air is filled with happy chatter. You drink in the atmosphere, swept along by the other’s enthusiasm.

Taehyung notices a few of his friends from Hufflepuff and waves, before going over to say, “Hello”, leaving you alone with Jimin on the makeshift dance-floor.

You suddenly feel a little awkward, dancing alone with Jimin. You keep on swaying, smiling over at him every so often. His eyes are often on the floor, his dancing slowing to a gentle sway, but occasionally his eyes connect with yours before flicking down to the floor again. Perhaps he’s feeling just as awkward as you are.

All of a sudden, there’s a shout, and the music cuts out. You halt, Jimin frozen at your side, while the other students twist their heads, looking around, trying to figure out what’s going on.

“What is the meaning of this?” Above the other heads of the students, you can just about make out the head of one of the tall Hufflepuff prefects. “You do realise that there are some students who are trying to sleep after the feast, right?” He strides forward, the other students parting in waves before him. “I think I see some non-Hufflepuff students here as well,” he comments as he passes by you. You pull your cloak around you, trying the mask the Slytherin colours on your jumper. “I have half a mind to report everyone in this room to the headmaster.”

“Aw come on,” one of the other prefects, a boy you recognise as Jung Hoseok follows behind his peer, “These kids are just having fun,” he places an arm on the other prefects shoulder. “Let’s just say it was a mistake – a learning experience – and move on. I’m sure it won’t happen again.” He gives a wink to Taehyung, who’s stood across from you, trying to look guilty.

“Alright,” the prefect snaps, “But if I hear even a single whiff of another party being held in this common room, I will march each and every pupil responsible down to the headmaster’s office myself, mark my words.”

With that, the party disperses – very quickly. Streamers are swept away with the flicking of wands, and the candles in the Jack-o'-lanterns instantaneously snuff out.

Grabbing Jimin by the sleeve, you both make a bee-line for the exit, giving Taehyung a reluctant wave as you leave.

“Well, that wasn’t as successful as I hoped,” Jimin whispers, as you make your way down the corridor, heading back towards the Slytherin dorms.

“Maybe not,” you say, “But it was fun. Did you see that prefect’s face? I thought he was going to explode with rage.”

Jimin snorts with laughter. “Sorry it wasn’t the best of Halloween experiences.”

“What do you mean?” you say, “It’s gotta be one of the best. At least top-three.”

“You haven’t even celebrated three Halloweens yet!”

“Exactly. So it’s been one of the best.”

“Well, we’ll just have to top it again next year.” Jimin decides.

✽ ✽ ✽

[Third Year – October 28th]

Moving into your third year you find yourself gifted with a little more freedom around the school. It’s the year that you’re allowed to visit Hogsmeade, and you’re an uncontainable ball of energy when the weekend closest to Halloween rolls around, marking the first date that the third years are allowed to make their way down to the all-wizarding village.

On the Saturday, you and Jimin meet up with Taehyung on the steps outside Hogwarts, and make your way down to the village. All the way JImin is talking excitedly about how he’s planning on one-upping the Halloween festivities from last year.

“We can’t have another part like last year,” Taehyung says, “No way am I willing to get us all in trouble again.”

“I know,” Jimin sighs, “But we’ve gotta do something exciting, right?”

The topic of Halloween soon fades away as you finally reach Hogsmeade. The village street is blanketed by leaves in red and orange, with cheery lights shining from the windows of shops, giving a cosy contrast to the drab autumnal sky.

“Where do we go first?” Taehyung asks, and you and Jimin share a look, before you both point to the sweets shop, Honeydukes.

“Do you guys think about anything other than your stomachs?” Taehyung asks, following after you, as you rush for the cosy looking shop, nestled under a crown of fallen leaves that adorn its low roof. Your eyes widen as you enter, drinking in the view of the magical sweets packed in jars from floor to ceiling. You pick out sherbet lemons, Jimin’s favourite, and he buys a packet of apple and redcurrant tarts from the pastry display. He shares the still warm pastries with you as you exit back into the cold air, and debate where to go next. Taehyung is eager to visit Zonko’s Joke shop, while Jimin needs to visit Ceridwen’s Cauldrons to get a replacement cauldron after an unfortunate incident in your last potions lesson involving an explosion and a very angry potions teacher. You make your way around the village, stopping in at each shop you want in turn, before finally stopping at the Three Broomsticks where Jimin offers to buy the three of you butterbeers.

As he leaves the table, Taehyung gives you a look that you struggle to interpret. “Looks like Jimin is super excited for your third Halloween.”

You laugh, “He’s more excited than I am.”

“Well sure, but he wants to impress you.”

“Huh?” you blush, not sure what Taehyung’s implying, “Nah, he just wants us all to have fun.”

“Yeah, but he wants you especially have fun,” Taehyung goes on.

“Well of course, I’m his friend.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “You aren’t normally this oblivious, are you? I can’t possibly be speaking to the same person who’s aced all her divination and dark arts tests this year. I am, in fact, speaking with a moron, who’s somehow possessed the body of my friend.”

“Come on Taehyung, stop being daft” you give him a shove from across the table, “What are you trying to say.”

“I’m saying that Jimin likes you,” Taehyung enunciates every word, “As. More. Than. A. Friend. And you’d have to be an idiot not to see it.”

You shake your head, perplexed. Before you can question Taehyung further, Jimin is standing at the table, trying not to spill the three butterbeers as he sets them down.

He squeezes into the space next to you, while Taehyung gives you a meaningful look, and you blush.

“Well, cheers to our first Hogsmeade visit,” Jimin raises up his mug, and you do the same, clicking your overflowing mug against his and Taehyung’s, trying not to slosh any more of the golden liquid down the side than is absolutely unavoidable.

You take a deep sip, letting the warmth seep from your mouth down to your stomach and out to the extremities of your body, ears to fingers to toes. “Oh man, that’s so good,” you say, eyes wide as you set down your mug, wiping at the froth that was left on your lips.

Taehyung and Jimin both nod in agreement, and you settle back comfortably on your chair, pondering Taehyung’s words, as your two friends begin to argue over whether chocolate frogs are actually a good snack, or if they’re only good for the collectible cards you get with them.

✽ ✽ ✽

By the time you leave the Three Broomsticks, the sky is beginning to darken, with orange coloured clouds crowding out the deep navy of the sky.

Jimin suddenly stops in his tracks, spinning around to face you: “I’ve just had a great idea!”

You wait, curious, edging him on with your raised brows:

“I have an idea how we can celebrate Halloween this year,” he continues. You and Taehyung’s silence is encouragement enough for him to continue. “We should go visit the Shrieking Shack. I mean… I know it’s a bit early for Halloween. But it’ll be the perfect haunted experience.”

An uncertainty pools in your stomach, cold and clammy, as you stare at the abandoned house that looms over Hogsmeade. It’s rumoured to be the most haunted house in Britain. You mull over the idea in your head. “Don’t you think it’s dangerous?”

When you first arrived in Hogwarts, you were startled at the sight of actual ghosts, which you had gone your whole life beleiving to be a superstition. The ghosts at Hogwarts were friendly, but ghosts haunting an old abandoned house… you weren’t so sure.

Jimin shrugs in response to your question. “Who knows.” Seeing you hesitation, he gives a tug on your sweater, “Come on. I’ll keep you safe if anything happens, I promise.”

Taehyung raises his hands in defeat, “Listen, I don’t think I’ll stay. It’s getting late, and I just remembered I have a divinations homework to finish. But you two should go have a look and find out if it’s really haunted!”

Before you can stop him, Taehyung is spinning on his heel, and heading back for Hogwarts. Not before he flashes you a quick wink, and you suddenly realise that he’s trying to give you some alone time with Jimin. Or maybe he’s trying to give Jimin some alone time with you. You’re not sure what to think, but you feel uncertainty digging its roots deep, planting you firmly on the spot - right beside Jimin. His presence is suddenly incredibly distracting, feeling his heat so close beside you, battling against the cold autumn evening. His breath billows clouds on the air, his dark eyes blinking curiously at you, pleading.

‘Alright, fine. Just a quick look!”

Jimin grins, and you allow him to pull you to the Shrieking Shack that stands, creaking, on its own, ostracised from the other buildings in Hogsmeade. The building is rounded off by a rickety fence, casting a shadow over you. A cold fear trickles down your back, but you steel yourself, determined not to make a fool of yourself in front of Jimin.

Jimin gives you a leg-up over the fence, before climbing over himself, and suddenly, there’s nothing separating you from whatever might reside in the house. A cold wind tugs at your hair and scarf, pulling away your frozen breath.

Your fingers are threaded through Jimin’s. You don’t remember grabbing him. He squeezes your fingers.

You walk forward together, slowly. At the door, Jimin murmurs a spell, and the door creaks open on unstable hinges. Inside, the house is dark, and the strong smell of mildew rises to meed your nostrils.

“Maybe we shouldn’t go in,” you whisper, trying to steady your shaking voice, “We’ve got close enough.”

“No, come on,” Jimin hisses, pulling you closer. Swallowing your fear, you follow after him, huddled close for comfort. The house feels colder than the outside breeze, and your fogged breath clouds your vision.

As you step further into the bowels of the house, your ears pick up on a hissing, muttering sound. Your freeze, paralysing fear sinking its claws into your spine, and Jimin pauses beside you, hand damp in your own. Straining your ears beyond the pounding of your own heart, you hear – yes, those are definitely voices.

Carefully, cautiously, Jimin leads you forward, down the corridor to the door that is partially open, where the voices emanate from. Pressing his finger to his lips, Jimin peers around the door to find…

A group of sixth years smoking cigarettes. As the door swings open, revealing you and Jimin, one of them glances up and then nudges the other one, “Hey, look what we got here.”

“Oi,” the other, who seems to be the more authoritative, stands up, “Scram.” He makes a grab for his wand, but you and Jimin don’t need any more prodding. Turning on your heels, you flee for the door.

You and Jimin don’t stop running until you reach the entrance to Honeydukes, shuddering out shaky laughter that fogs the cold air.

Jimin’s hand is still in yours, not having let go through the entire experience. You don’t comment as he keeps his fingers laced through yours as you walk back to Hogwarts.

✽ ✽ ✽

[Fourth Year – October 31st]

The school is abuzz this year. Your professors have decided to host a ball on Halloween night, which all of the older students are allowed to attend. It won’t just be any kind of ball, but a masquerade ball, in keeping with the tradition of wearing costumes for Halloween.

Excitement shoots through your veins as you get ready for the night. You’re incredibly happy with the dress which your parents had sent to Hogwarts. It’s purple with a skirt that flares out and shimmers in the light, seemingly changing colour dependant on the light that strikes it’s folds and frills, shifting through shades of blue and aquamarine. You take one last look at your hair in the mirror, tucking a stray strand behind your ear, before you put on your mask of purple lace, matching your dress.

Your roommate, Padma, helps you tie the silk ribbon keeping your mask in place, and gives you a smile. “You look amazing.”

Blushing, you glance down to the floor, unsure how to take the compliment. “Thanks, you too.”

Her face flushes with happiness before she walks away to help Beatrix with her dress. Satisfied with your appearance as you cast one last glance over your reflection, you make your way out into the Slytherin common room. From the common room window, you can see the full moon shining on the surface of the Hogwarts lake.

You spot Jimin, despite his mask, immediately. He’s wearing a dark suit, with a black shirt and tie, and a black mask to match. Sneaking up behind him where he’s standing with a group of other Slytherin boys, you give him a tap on the shoulder.

He turns around, and a smile spreads across his features, “Wow, look at you!” He picks you up and spins you around, while you squeak his arms. “You look amazing.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you giggle as he sets you down again, breathless.

You catch a flush of colour beneath his mask, and your mind flicks back to Taehyung, who’s been dropping hints that Jimin has a crush on you for most of the past year. You’ve been trying to ignore him, but you can’t help but notice the small hints Jimin gives out without meaning to. The thought of him crushing on you fills you with a warm, happy glow. It’s nice to feel liked, and you silently find yourself hoping – wishing – that it might actually be true.

Of course, you haven’t done anything to confirm it, not ready to put him – or yourself – on the spot. But moments like this make you all the more curious.

“Come on,” Jimin motions to you as the crowd of Slytherins begin meandering to the great hall.

You thread your fingers through his, and let him lead you along the corridors to the Great Hall, happiness fizzing pleasantly in your stomach at the touch of his hand in your own.

As you make your way into the Great Hall your breath leaves your lungs. Even after four years, when you think you’re used to all that magic has to offer, it throws another glittering spectacle your way. The entire hall is cloaked in a purple glow as the sky above your head opens up to the marvel of glowing colours from the northern lights. You know that the real sky won’t have the aurora borealis shining outside, yet it has somehow been summoned to light one room in Hogwarts castle. The whole hall is filled with sparkling streamers, and candles cast a warm glow against the cool lights shining from the sky that makes up the enchanted roof.

“Hey, look,” Jimin nudges you, “Your dress matches the sky.”

You look down at your dress, the purples and blues swirling in the seams of the material and smile. “Well it would be a shame not to go dancing when I look so good in this light,” you say, and Jimin grins, letting you lead him towards the centre of the hall, where a few other students have started dancing.

Holding onto Jimin’s arms, stronger than your remember, you spin around the dance floor, held close to his warmth. The sky above your head is a glittering shimmer of different colours, ghosting past your eyes, with your gaze fixed on Jimin. His face is mostly obscured by his mask, but his eyes are clear to you, fixed on your own - dark pools of emotion that you can reach, interpret, if you just give yourself one moment of vulnerability. If you just give yourself one shimmering moment of honesty.

Your eyes rip away from Jimin’s, your face blushing, unsure of the feelings that you’re encountering. You notice Taehyung in your periphery vision. He’s standing at the edge of the dance floor, with a mug of butterbeer in his hand. Normally, you know that he would run over to you and Jimin, a grin on his face and a greeting on his tongue, but he seems to sense the same shimmering uncertainty hovering between you and Jimin. As he stands quiet at the edge of the dance floor, he gives you a wink, and then weaves his way back into the crowd.

This is what he’s been trying to encourage all this time – one moment of vulnerable honesty, where both you and Jimin open up enough to realise what’s so obvious to anyone else. You’re tired of waiting for confirmation.

Tipping your chin up, you push your lips to his in a rush of courage, almost as if you had drunk Felix Felicis. You can feel surprise rolling through his body, as he keeps his hold on you. Slowly, easily, he melts into your kiss. His lips open to yours, and with a whirling head, you give yourself over to the desires you had been ignoring for so long, fingers finding purchase on the soft hair at the nape of his neck. Your nerves conduct a symphony of excitement as everything you had needed was understood and relinquished to you in that moment.

As you part, both breathless, both smiling, you say,“Shall we step outside – just to get some fresh air?”

Jimin follows your cue, with an “Absolutely,”, walking after you as you weave your way through the crowds, out the door of the Great Hall, and towards the exit of the castle. The air is cold as you step out, and your shiver in the gauze of your shimmering dress, beautiful, but useless at protecting against the chill.

Seeing you trembling, Jimin removes his blazer and places it over your shoulders. You breathe deeply, enjoying the fresh crisp edge in your lungs.

Outside, with the real stars shimmering above you, unmasked from the aurora borealis that shimmered in the Great Hall, you turn to Jimin. You remove your mask, glad to let the cool air fall onto your cheeks.

Jimin takes off his mask as well, and you rake your eyes over his expression, hunting for a hint of regret at the kiss you had shared. There’s nothing but joy in his face.

As the rest of the school parties inside, you and Jimin share your hearts out in the cold.

✽ ✽ ✽

[Fifth Year – October 31st]

Jimin is taking Halloween celebrations very seriously this year. After all – it’s not just Halloween, it’s also your anniversary. One year of being a couple.

That’s why, when the Halloween Feast ends, instead of heading back to the common room, he leads you out of the school, sneaking through back passages and hallways until you’re outside, with the brisk wind whipping your hair.

“Where are we going?”

Jimin keeps throwing you knowing glances, pushing his fingers to his lips.

Impatience bubbles below your skin, but you allow him to lead you on to the edge of the lake, where you find a spread of your favourite snacks and drinks on a checkered picnic blanket, surrounded by candles that suddenly flicker on with the murmur of a spell.

“I hope you saved room for desert like I told you to.”

“Wow, Jimin,” you kneel down on the blanket, absorbing the array he’s arranged. “This is wonderful!”

“I hoped you would like it,” you can barely see it, but in the candle light, you notice a faint blush on his cheeks.

“I love it,” you assure him, leaning across to give him a kiss on the cheek, and the blush deepens.

You allow yourself a few tastes of the of sweets that Jimin has provided, including the apple and redcurrant tart that is, magically, still warm, before lying back on the picnic blanket, snuggling up to Jimin, who provides an arm wrapped around you to fend off the chill.

As you stare up at the cloudless sky, with stars winking down at you, a wave of satisfaction spreads through your chest. You wish you could pause your life at this moment, bound by Jimin’s arms.

“Thanks for an amazing year, Jimin,” you murmur, and you feel his grip around you tighten a little, as he squeezes you.

“Thank you too. Here’s to many more.”

With no once but the stars watching down, you lean in to kiss him, pulling him closer. His body is firm and warm, a perfect distraction from the cold air that presses in from all other sides. After a year, you have so many emotions to share with him, so much love to give him.

✽ ✽ ✽

[Sixth Year - October 31st]

On the sixth year, your year group is allowed to go on a short school trip to a castle nestled in the mountains. The main goal of the school trip is learning of the history of some magical relics that were discovered around the area, as well as observing rare magical creatures that live in the area for your Care of Magical Creatures course.

The part you have been looking forward to the most is the Halloween celebrations. While you’ll be missing the normal Halloween feast, your teachers have allowed you your own room in the castle, where you can have a party with your year group.

The small room in the castle is cozy and cheerful, with a fire flickering in the hearth, and a tables piled high with food, making your mouth water and your eyes glisten.

When you and Jimin walk into the room together, your hand finds his, squeezing in excitement.

Taehyung walks up behind you, and throws an arm over each of your shoulders. “How are my favourite love-birds?”

Jimin laughs, “We’re good. You enjoying the school trip?”

“Sure… Although our group didn’t see anything exciting when we went orienteering. I swear the way the teachers spoke about it, I was certain that this place would be swarming with unicorns, But I suppose, even in areas where they’re more common… they’re still pretty rare.”

You bite your lip, not sure if telling Taehyung that the group you and Jimin were with managed to spot a young unicorn while you were out. Instead you say, “Isn’t this a nice change of pace from the normal Halloween feast?”

Taehyung looks around the room, a nostalgic smile on his face. “Yeah, it’s nice. Really nice... It’s strange to think that this is our penultimate year at school. It doesn’t feel that long ago we were just getting sorted into our houses.”

You feel Jimin’s squeeze your fingers. “Yeah, it’s going to be so strange when we have to leave,” he says.

“We’ll all stay friends when we leave Hogwarts though, right?” you say, and without any hesitation both Jimin and Taehyung answer - “Absolutely.”

✽ ✽ ✽

That night, you hear a knock on your dormitory door. Cracking it open, you peer out to find Jimin outside. “Hi,” he whispers.

“Jimin, you know we’re not meant to visit other students’ rooms at night,” you chide teasingly.

“I know, but I wanted to see you. Can I come in?” You peer up and down the corridor, but the entire hallway appears empty.

You nod, and let him in. The rooms you’ve been allocated at the castle are large, almost as big as the dorm rooms you’re assigned at Hogwarts, but you don’t have to share this one with other Slytherin girls. A large four-poster bed stands at the centre of the room, where you will be spending the night.

Excitement leaps up to your stomach as you realise that you’re alone in a bedroom with Jimin for the first time in a long time. Your professors are normally strict about students mingling in the dormitories at Hogwarts, so it’s difficult to get any intimate alone time.

You know the same thing is on Jimin’s mind, as his eyes fall to the bed. With a grin, you lead him over to soft mattress, frosted by the thick duvet. Pulling him under the covers, you wrap your arms around him, your lips finding his in the dark. As he gets lost in the heat of your body, you murmur your love to him, whispered into the empty darkness beyond the haven of your bed. You learn new ways to know him, discovering new parts of him. The night stretches out to infinity, wobbling, and then collapsing with your secretly shared ecstasy.

✽ ✽ ✽

[Seventh Year - October 27th]

As it’s your final year at Hogwarts, some of your year have been tasked with helping to organise events. Of course, Jimin offered to organise the Halloween Feast, but now, as the night creeps closer, you can see he is getting more and more nervous.

When he comes back to the common room after another planning meeting, his tension automatically translates for you with a sigh, as he flops onto one of the chairs and rubs his eyes.

“You doing okay?” you ask, although you know he’s not.

His hair flops over his furrowed brows as he hangs his head. “It’s fine. I just… I want to make this Halloween Feast the best it’s ever been, and I don’t know if it’s all going to come together the way I want...”

You make you way to the back of his chair, and begin to massage the tense muscles in his shoulders. “I’m sure it’ll be amazing.”

“But don’t you see?” Jimin looks up at you, straining his neck, “This is going to be the last Halloween Feast we have at Hogwarts. It’s got to be amazing! Or I’ll let you down.”

“No matter what, if I get to celebrate it with you, it’ll be amazing,” you reassure him, bending to plant a kiss on his forehead.

He smiles, and you feel his muscles relaxing against you. “Well, no matter what, you’ll be in for a treat, I promise.”

“I always am, when I get to spend all my days with you.” You plant a kiss on his lips this time, feeling him smile into you.

✽ ✽ ✽

[Seventh Year – October 31st]

The day of the Halloween Feast rolls around, and you meet Jimin in the common room, both dressed up, ready for the feast.

Jimin’s face melts into a soft smile, seeing you, with your hair tied back, and your gown billowing out around you as you run up to hug him. You can smell his cologne as you pull away from him, dizzying you, as it clings to your clothing – a reminder that he held you close.

“You ready for this?” you ask, and he gives you a nod, hand squeezing at your own.

You let him lead you down the hallways to the Great Hall. You take in every detail, knowing you’ve got a limited time left to appreciate the unique crevices of Hogwarts, with the twisting staircases, and the curious paintings. You’re not sure what will happen once you graduate. Will you have to go back to a non-magical life with your parents? Or will you get to stay in the world of magic, using the skills you’ve learnt in potion making, divination, and spell casting?

Jimin’s hand grips yours tightly, and you know he’s thinking of what will happen after you leave as well.

As you step into the Great Hall, your worries are quickly swept away.

The Great Hall has been completely transformed. Candles float in the air, burning flames of blue and orange, sparking up to the sky, which burns golden from the setting sun. Crystals dangle down from the ceiling, cascading light across the hall. The tables have strings of lights shining around them. At first glance they appear to be fairy lights, but when you look closer you realise they are actually specks of light floating on their own, like fireflies. Pumpkins sit on the table surrounded by flowers, and sprigs of ivy cascade down the table legs.

“You really outdid yourself,” you tell Jimin in a hushed tone of reverence, “This is beautiful.” He glows with pleasure as you sit down at the Slytherin table.

You feel a poke behind you, and turn in your seat to see Taehyung, who’s stopped on his way to the Hufflepuff table. He grins at you, “Amazing, whoever worked on this did an amazing job.” He grins at you, while Jimin flushes at the indirect complement.

Clasping a hand on Jimin’s shoulder, Taehyung says, “Good job, for real,” before he’s ushered along by some other Hufflepuffs who are trying to get to their seats.

The night seems to go by in a blur of dazzling lights and delicious food. You sit back in your chair, as a house elf comes around offering tea and mints after the dinner. “This was amazing,” you tell Jimin. “I’m sad it’s our last Halloween at Hogwarts. I want to do this all again”

Jimin nods, “It doesn’t need to be the last amazing Halloween we have together though.”

You smile. “Of course not.”

“Hey,” Jimin shuffles in his chair, “I know you might want to go to university after this, but… what would you say if, after all that… we moved in together?”

You blush, thinking it over. You and Jimin have been together for so long, it only seems like a natural conclusion that you would end up together after this. Yet, it seems difficult to imagine what it will be like to be with Jimin outside of Hogwarts, in a hazy future. All you know is that if Jimin’s a part of your life, then the days will be bright.

Without giving it any more thought, knowing exactly what you want, you say, “Yes. I’d like that very much.”

✽ ✽ ✽

[Four Years after Graduating from Hogwarts - October 31st]

It’s the day of the Halloween party – the Halloween party that Jimin has become famous among for hosting at his house. Somehow, without you noticing, late afternoon has slunk in, and you’re helping Jimin add the last finishing touches to your house, making sure all the foods are ready for when guests arrive.

You look around at the spread of food crammed on the small kitchen table. “Not too bad, Park Jimin” you say, giving him an approving smile.

“Well, I couldn’t have got it all done on time without your help,” Jimin says, making his way over to sweep you into a hug. He smells of spices and vanilla from helping you to bake in the kitchen. There’s flour on his hands, which has definitely ended up on your jumper. Nothing a little bit of magic won’t fix.

“Hey,” he pulls away from you, “I was going to ask after the party, but I’m too excited to wait.”

You furrow your brows, wondering what he’s getting at.

He licks his lips, looking down at you, and you see his Adam’s apple bob. “I was wondering...” he pauses, and your hearts starts thudding against your rib cage.

“How would you feel about marrying me?” JImin asks, eyes searching yours.

You don’t give him any moment of hesitation or uncertainty. You’re already pressing a kiss to his lips before your remember directing your body to do so. “I’d want nothing more!” you murmur as you part.

“Good,” he laughs, nuzzling your neck as you hold him close. “Now I won’t have to return the ring I bought you.”

✽ ✽ ✽

After you wave off the party that evening, Taehyung being the last to leave as per usual, Jimin pulls you into the living room, where the remains of the party still linger in the form of dishevelled decorations, and the last crumbs of the snacks you baked.

“Well, did I manage to out do all the Halloweens you’ve had?” Jimin asks as you both snuggle up on the sofa.

“You definitely have,” you assure him, “I mean… you proposed to me!”

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to do even better by actually marrying you next year,” he retorts.

“October wedding?”

“Definitely.”

“I’d like that a lot.”

✽ THE END ✽

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