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#am i going to regret posting this tomorrow? possibly

aguacerotropical · 1 year

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I cant stop thinking about this tonight so ill annoy all of you. this is on caribbean racial dynamics, us imperialism and Bad Bunny at the Grammys.

it is sponsored by gringx, and to a certain extent, also LatAm twitter, who have spent days arguing about racism wrt to Bad Bunny at the Grammys. Their arguments show off a lot about how racism is seen from a Caribbean gaze vs a USAmerican one. And the perpetual insistence of USAmericans to impose their viewpoint on the whole continent.

And it’s kept me angry for like three days straight, bc i log on and see “Bad Bunny is a white american :-)” when he’s. a. colonial. subject. if his residency is in PR, which i believe it is, he can’t vote for Congress or President. He’s subject to legal discrimination and still lives under the framework etched out in the Insular Cases, which are so racist they inspired Nazis in Germany, and was decided by the same court that came down with Plessy V Ferguson, but unlike Plessy, they are still the law of the land.

So, he’s just materially not seen as white or American and collapsing that bc of how he looks is offensive to say the least, not to him, but to the rest of us who get told we’re citizens while our land is USA property. O sea, do they know that, technically, our citizenship can be revoked? It has a legal basis, due to the Jones Act of 1917, and not constitutional bc “the Constitution does not follow the flag”. The House committee that deals with our issues? The “Natural Resources” one. And then going back to their claims that him winning the award is racism bc he’s white, well, there’s a lot of arguments over on PR twitter about how BB is not seen as white, and while im not sure they hold up, it does showcase the role of $ and how positioning in the colonial system shapes class/race dynamics. For example, many say that BB is not seen as white in the Caribbean due to his kinky hair, features and moreso his social class - he comes from a barrio in Vega Baja, a town in the outskirts of the metro area.

People who are deemed “white” here are usually not just light-skinned but also part of the upper class elite that acts as colonial intermediaries. And even in this class there are differences and contradictions. So, lots of PRicans don’t see Bad Bunny as white. (Even if i’m personally very skeptical of these arguments).

So my main point is that bc gringxs impose their clearly incorrect race dynamics, or even fellow Latin Americans who try to see the Caribbean through a Central and Southern American lens - the real race and racism dynamics get obfuscated. Suddenly, we have to argue about what is clearly fact - Bad Bunny and Puerto Ricans are not Americans and are colonial subjects - instead of asking ourselves what whiteness and blackness means in the Caribbean.

Which is often different than the USA. For example, in the USA, one drop of nonwhite blood deems you as nonwhite. In the Caribbean, people were/are eager to “mejorar la raza” (better the race) and erase ties to blackness through legal processes originally invented by the Spanish, and marriages into “white” families, even though the Caribbean is Black. The Caribbean’s strongest cultural ties are precisely in West African cultures. But a lot of Caribbeans won’t accept that, and that’s a strong factor in anti-blackness here. And racism here is often much worse and less discussed than in the United States.

Additionally, the way mestizaje here works means that a fake indigenous (taino) identity are held up over West African ties. Claiming to be indigenous is often a way to distance people from blackness. So there are Latin Americans who don’t understand that it works differently than perhaps in México and Central America (although I took class with an anthropologist who worked in México and saw so much racism from Mexicans that didnt want to admit Black Mexicans exist).

But you wouldn’t be able to see any of this through a USAmerican perspective. Instead you see takes such as “Spanish is a colonial language and we should revitalize indigenous Caribbean languages” that not only do not exist anymore in the Hispanic Caribbean islands, but are claimed by racists.

And the Caribbean being Black? This is were the Bad Bunny discourse goes off the rails, because he repped Bomba, Plena and Merengue which are quite obviously influenced by West African traditions.

Here you have the crowning absurdity of this discourse and the ways in which the Caribbean is in a lose-lose situation with Latin America and the United States. You have both USAmericans and certain Latin Americans who want to claim Bad Bunny as latinx, when, as any Boricua or Dominican will tell you, his music is rooted in Caribbean Black musical traditions.

So, USAmericans on twitter call him white, Latin Americans argue with Caribbeans for pointing out his music is rooted in our experience because “we all are supposed to be Latin Americans” (which latin americanism and Bolivarism is something we should all sit down and Think About What That Means For a Moment). And meanwhile our Spanish is derided as “colonial” (by USAmericans) while Latin Americans and Spaniards have made fun of us for decades (”Soy de Puerto Rico. “Ah vienes de PueLto Lico”) bc our Spanish is colored by West African languages that, for example, didn’t distinguish the L or the R as much at the end of a word.

So, to end this rant, Caribbeans are sandwiched and unrecognized, there are terrible imperialistic takes on the internet, and I get to go on two mile long walks to calm my anger bc I accidentally scrolled too far on my Twitter timeline.

A Fun Fact if you’ve made it this far: Bomba and Jazz share the same cultural tie, just w/ different instruments: Jazz is played on guitars, pianos etc while Bomba gets played on drums. But both are musical genres based in improvisation and West African rhythms. The Bomba dancer and drummer improvise because the drummer has to follow and compete with the dancer. it’s the same cultural tie - West Africa - in different contexts.

#am i going to regret posting this tomorrow? possibly #bad bunny #grammys #its continually amazing to me that I can quote fucking 19th century law #thanks to having to navigate a colonial system #while americans whip out wikipedai as a gotcha. i wanna die.#yall are so lucky its 3 Am bc this essay would be twice as long #if i tackled the he's a straight man discourse bc of his GLAAD award #thats. thats. quite an essay.

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fuckmyskywalker · 11 months

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Yes here — Anakin Skywalker.

— CW: 18+, SMUT. Anakin is married and cheating on his wife. Secret affairs. PiV. Bit of dirty talk. Anakin is married to the wrong person.

— a/n: As usual, I don't know what I am doing. Anyways… cheating is wrong friends, don't do it. This is just fiction 👍🏻.

"Keep it down or I'll fucking stop" Anakin growls right in your ear, his cock buried deep from behind as he cages you against the wall of Senator Amidala's apartment.

"Anakin—" You gasp quietly, your body arching back, his toned clothed chest hotly pressed against your back. "Not here"

"Yes here" He replies with a wicked smile, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head so he can sink his teeth down your neck.

With every sharp thrust you feel the climax approaching your body like a tsunami. This is wrong, it's so wrong it has been going on for almost a year now.

Yet it's something so wonderful and delicious.

First of all, not only is Anakin fucking you raw against a wall, he is also doing it with his fucking wife in the next room who's peacefully sleeping, thinking the two mighty Jedis guarding her door are doing their nightly patrol.

He leaves a reddish mark on your neck, something that will be really hard for you to cover tomorrow, but Anakin doesn't care. He is a selfish, disgusting bastard who's trapped in an unhappy married and in love with the wrong person.

He is also the most handsome, beautiful man you had ever seen.

When the tip of his hard cock hits that right spot inside your dripping pussy, you choke a loud moan. Anakin growls again, half turned on by it and half annoyed. His leather covered hand releases your hair and clasps over your mouth, successfully shutting your noises. He knows you're close, he can feel it by the vicious grip of your cunt around his length, and it only spurs him, his hot breath tickling your ear as he murmurs an endless stream of profanities into it.

His hips continue their relentless assault against your ass, his pants pooling at his ankles since he is too much of a horndog he's unable to be alone in a room with you without burying his dick deep inside of you.

"Look at you filthy slut" He whispers and licks the shell of your ear, groaning at the tight grip of your sopping hole. He is absolutely addicted to your body, ever since he met you.

Anakin regrets every single day of his life his marriage; And it's clear by the way he is fucking you into oblivion. Anakin longs for you, in every way possible. Anakin wants you, and practically owns you.

When you come around him is like touching heaven, as your eyes roll back and your muffled scream is enough for him to reach his peak and spill his hot, sticky seed inside of you, filling you up to the brim.

He continues anyway, prolonging both of your orgasms until it it literally hurts.

Although, ever the gentleman he helps you pick up your loose pants, securing the belt around your hips and leaving his hands on top of them as he spins you around and kisses you, his tongue invading your mouth and exploring it at his will.

He stuffs himself back into his black robes, guiding you to the couch of the spacious living room. Anakin smiles when you lay down, recovering from the adrenaline and the rush of your secret affair. Anakin sits down next to you, brushing your hair and kissing your cheeks, your lips, adoring the post orgasmic glow on your face.

"I love you" He whispers against your lips, his flesh hand tracing patterns on your bare arm.

"I love you" You whisper back, your eyelids feeling heavy after days of three hours of sleep and a long day of patrolling around the city.

Anakin lets you rest on his shoulder, as he brushes some hairs away from your face sweetly.

He could stay like this for hours, just admiring you.

The door of the main bedroom opens slowly, as the familiar brown eyes of the woman he is tied up with peeks from behind.

"Hey" Padmé says in a hurried whisper, careful not to wake you up. "Is she okay?" She asks.

"She's just tired, don't worry angel" Anakin replies in a low voice, careful not to wake you up. "Everything is okay, I'll wake her up in a few minutes"

"Okay" Padmé nods and pushes her long braid away from her bare shoulder. "Be careful, I love you" She adds before closing the door of her bedroom.

Anakin just smiles, his hand coming up to your face and caressing your cheek. His blue eyes look intensely at you, admiring every freckle, mole and curve of your face. You look absolutely breathtaking. He feels his heart bursting with joy next to you.

"I love you" He whispers, but this time, is aimed to the right woman.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 English isn't my first language, sorry for any mistakes!

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya writes!#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #Anakin Skywalker smut #anakin x reader smut #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker prompt #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker one shot #anakin smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #star wars anakin #anakin cheats hehe #THIS IS FICTIONAL EVERYONE #star wars #star wars smut

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burningvelvet · 1 year

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random excerpts from lord byron’s diaries that feel like tumblr posts from the 1800s

“My mind is a fragment.”

“I am too lazy to shoot myself.”

“Here I am, alone, instead of dining at Lord H.'s, where I was asked—but not inclined to go any where. Hobhouse says I am growing a ‘loup garou,’ a solitary hobgoblin. True.”

“Sleepy, and must go to bed.”

“Whether ‘Hell will be paved with’ those ‘good intentions,’ I know not.”

“Got up—redde the Morning Post containing [..] a paragraph on me as long as my pedigree, and vituperative, as usual.”

“I wonder what the devil is the matter with me! I can do nothing, and fortunately there is nothing to do.”

“Last night, party at Lansdowne House. Tonight, party at Lady Charlotte Greville's—deplorable waste of time, and something of temper. Nothing imparted—nothing acquired—talking without ideas:—if any thing like thought in my mind, it was not on the subjects on which we were gabbling. Heigho!—and in this way half London pass what is called life. Tomorrow there is Lady Heathcote's—shall I go? yes—to punish myself for not having a pursuit.”

“What a strange thing is the propagation of life! A bubble of Seed which may be spilt in a whore’s lap – or in the orgasm of a voluptuous dream – might (for aught we know) have formed a Caesar or a Buonaparte.”

“Oh that face!—by te, Diva potens Cypri, I would, to be beloved by that woman, build and burn another Troy.”

“I have found increasing upon me (without sufficient cause at times) the depression of Spirits (with few intervals), which I have some reason to believe constitutional or inherited.”

“I shall soon be six-and-twenty (January 22d., 1814). Is there any thing in the future that can possibly console us for not being always twenty-five?”

“Past events have unnerved me; and all I can now do is to make life an amusement, and look on while others play. After all, even the highest game of crowns and sceptres, what is it?”

“Redde a little—wrote notes and letters, and am alone, which Locke says is bad company. ‘Be not solitary, be not idle.’—Um!—the idleness is troublesome; but I can't see so much to regret in the solitude. The more I see of men, the less I like them. If I could but say so of women too, all would be well. Why can't I? I am now six-and-twenty; my passions have had enough to cool them; my affections more than enough to wither them,—and yet—and yet—always yet and but—‘Excellent well, you are a fishmonger—get thee to a nunnery.’—‘They fool me to the top of my bent.’” (Quotations from Hamlet)

“I wish I could settle to reading again,—my life is monotonous, and yet desultory. I take up books, and fling them down again. I began a comedy, and burnt it because the scene ran into reality;—a novel, for the same reason. In rhyme, I can keep more away from facts; but the thought always runs through, through ... yes, yes, through. I have had a letter from Lady Melbourne—the best friend I ever had in my life, and the cleverest of women.”

“As to opinions, I don't think politics worth an opinion.”

“Tells Dallas that my rhymes are very popular in the United States. These are the first tidings that have ever sounded like Fame to my ears—to be redde on the banks of the Ohio!”

“This journal is a relief. When I am tired—as I generally am—out comes this, and down goes every thing. But I can't read it over; and God knows what contradictions it may contain. If I am sincere with myself (but I fear one lies more to one's self than to any one else), every page should confute, refute, and utterly abjure its predecessor.”

“Mr. Murray has offered me one thousand guineas for The Giaour and The Bride of Abydos. I won't—it is too much, though I am strongly tempted, merely for the say of it. No bad price for a fortnight's (a week each) what?—the gods know—it was intended to be called poetry.”

“I will not be the slave of any appetite. If I do err, it shall be my heart, at least, that heralds the way. Oh, my head—how it aches?—the horrors of digestion! I wonder how Buonaparte's dinner agrees with him?”

“If I had to live over again, I do not Know what I would change in my life, unless it were for not to have lived at all. All history and experience, and the rest, teaches us that the good and evil are pretty equally balanced in this existence, and that what is most to be desired is an easy passage out of it. What can it give us but years? and those have little of good but their ending.”

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kairiscorner · 10 months

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(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

mfw the rest couldn't fit in one post, so imagine:

atsv babes with an insomniac partner (part 2!)

(part 1)

pav would have received a miss call from you, which you regretted later because you knew how worried he gets when he misses a call or a message from you. the minute he heard his ringtone and watched as the light faded from his phone, he panicked when he saw your caller id and immediately called you back, even if it was 1:15 am when you called. you answered, because of course, what could you do? you didn't wanna worry him anymore, you wanted to explain you called randomly because you couldn't sleep, but boy was asking you questions a mile a minute. "babeareyouokayimsosrryicouldntpickupiwassleepingohareyouokaypleasebeokayimissyouandiloveyouandifyoustillneedmeimhereaaaaahpleasetalktomeee" he said that all in one damn breath, and the only thing you could pick up was the "are you okay" and "please talk to me". "i'm sorry, pav, it's just... i called you because i had trouble sleeping." you admitted, a little ashamed of yourself that you called and worried him for such a minor detail, or at least, a minor detail to you. to pav, it was okay to have done that, not a lot of people are in their right state of mind when they're running on a body that's barely slept and can't sleep. if anything, he's happy he was the first one you thought of telling and confiding in about it, it goes to show you trust him and want him to know. "love... it's okay. i'll be here for anything and everything you're going through, even if i can only help at a distance right now, i'll never fail to meet you halfway. i'm spider man, after all, i can do everything for you a thousand times over, just ask me to do something for you, and i'd do it." he told you over the phone, which relieved you so damn much. "would you... be willing to listen to me ramble all night until i sleep...?" you asked seriously, but you wouldn't blame him if he didn't want to. but, surprisingly and unsurprisingly, he said yes. "and hear your voice and have a peek of your mind? yes!" he beamed as he settled in his bed, hoping to hear your voice all night, until the instant you both finally doze off.

hobie would have probably caught you leaving your house in the middle of the night while out on the streets as spider man. "hey, what are you doin' out here? last time i checked, you were on a curfew you so religiously follow. not that i'm upholding authoritarian rule over adolescents by shirty 'rents... but i'm a li'il worried, y'know? you good?" he asked in a concerned tone as you avoided his gaze. "not... exactly." you croak out as you look up at him. "well, lemme hear it. wait, before that..." he muttered as he gently grabbed hold of you by the waist and swiftly swung the two of you up to the roof of a tall apartment complex. you screamed as hobie smirked. "still not used to it? that's ar'ight. sorry for startlin' you, love." he said as you breathed in and out heavily as he still held you in his arms. he sat down by the edge of the building's roof and took off his mask, patting down a spot on his side for you to sit down. "so... what's wrong?" he asked again as he caressed your cheek with his palm. "i can't fall asleep." you said briefly in an exhausted manner. he nodded as he looked at your sullen face. "well, tomorrow's a weekend, innit? how about you and i make the night ours?" he suggested with a comforting smirk on his face. you raised an eyebrow at the suggestion. "we can go anywhere you want tonight, do anything you want--my treat." he said as he stood up and extended you a hand. "let me help you live a little more, so what's one night of not sleeping? a whole world of possibilities, is what." he said with a small chuckle as you smiled up at him. "take me away then, spider man." you say as he mutters a, 'wicked' underneath his breath. he holds you close as you cling on to him, and he swings you all around the city; taking deep plunges and high jumps--the wind behind your hair as you two scream into the night in excitement and adventure; he may not be very consistent, but if you ever wanted, he'd stop everything he was doing and take you out for an adventure, just for the two of you in your own world in the night.

#atsv spiderman #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #atsv x reader #miles morales #atsv gwen #gwen stacy #hobie brown #hobie brown my beloved #atsv hobie #atsv pavitr #pavitr x you #pavitr prabhakar #gwen stacy x y/n #miles morales x y/n #hobie brown x you

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drippingmoon · 5 months

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Merry new year to everyone, again! 🥳💞🥂

I know it wasn’t an event this year, but writing a yearly wrap-up is really therapeutic, you know? So I decided to continue the tradition, and if anyone wants to join me, absolutely view this as an open invitation^^ Introduction is over, and now let’s see what 2023 looked like:

(spoilers: I adored it. I'm also probably going to make this my fixed post, in case anyone ever wants to catch up with me. And also because my second baby, AoS, is growing, and it doesn't have an intro, but I can't leave it out.)

Stats

Aquiver, Aglow: 181k (draft 4) + 195k (draft 5) + hmm, draft 6 is an outlier, because I didn’t rewrite from scratch, so I’m unsure of the written word count. I didn’t change much from draft 5, so I’d say an extra 15-20k. Total word count: 376k+

Remains of a Night: 120k

Aberration of Sunlight: 134k

This was definitely my most productive year to date. And I got so hungry: the more I wrote, the more I just wanted to keep writing, and honestly? I’m proudest of myself for literally carving writing time whenever I got a spot into my schedule. Mostly it was from 8pm-11pm, but I had a mad run where my only free window was from 1am till I literally felt I was dying… I’ll talk about that separately🤣🤣👌

Though, I'm seriously understating it.

Like a lot of other people, I would have all these hours when I was younger when I didn't have anything to do, yet I'd still find some excuse not to write. "I'm waiting for the right time." "I'm anxious I'm not going to get it right." "Tomorrow! Tomorrow I can start right from the morning, and I'll have more time to write, yeah?" or "I'm too tired now, it's late..." and so the snowball rolled down and downhill and I found every reason under the sun not to write, now that I think about it. Sigh. So much time wasted. But I can't regret it either, because I needed those baby steps at that time.

And now! Now I do what I thought I'd never learn to: I prioritize, and I actually organize my daily stuff so it's not so impossible anymore to have a little bit of writing time. I don't take it for granted either. It feels like such character growth for me, I'm immensely proud of it.

And for the record? This year was a huge improvement over yesteryear mentally, too. It turns out, what I needed to get over my word count anxiety… was to be faced with people who literally didn’t give a fuck about it, and just cared about the story. One of the most unexpected things beta stage managed to do to me… was to quench all my anxieties. It’s as simple as that. I read and enjoy very long books. People also do that. So, I’m very happy to say I’m no longer in a tizzy about ‘quiv. It might kill my chances for trad publishing, it might not. I’ll be happy come what may.

Because it’s so simple how working on ‘quiv or thinking about it makes me joyous, and now I can just enjoy that freely. I will miss writing this story so much. I really will. But at least I’ll have it forever to reread, and I hope this thought brings comfort to everyone who also has problems letting go, like it does to me.

Let’s break it down a little, shall we?🤩

Aquiver, Aglow◇◇◇

My little star of the hour. How fond I am of it.

Like you could glean from above, ‘quiv went through three drafts this year. More specifically: in the first part of the year, practically almost as soon as February arrived. I knew it was getting closer to the final version, and gave me the push to finish all three back to back. I couldn’t justify anymore the bazillion AUs I do with rewrites (basically, WHAT IFs from events, WHAT IF it went this different way, WHAT IF Tyrone actually said this here… and so on and so forth. I wanted to test out as many pathways as possible, and did I exhaust every one of them in existence? Definitely not. I don’t think that can happen, you just keep getting new ideas. On and on. What happened, instead, is that these couple different pathways, at some point, cemented themselves as canon in my mind. I didn’t want to tease myself with alternatives anymore, and that’s when I knew they would be it. Some bits from the first draft, some from the third, some from the second. Some were even draft 6 originals!

It’s a bit of a weird process. I definitely didn’t need to reach draft 3, and meet Mezusa, because I could’ve feasibly made it work with just Yles in the story. It still would’ve made sense, though in a different way. But if I hadn’t… I might’ve missed one of the best characters I’ll ever probably have created, and the story (and Yles) is much stronger for her, if you ask me.

For that matter, yes, full rewrites every single draft might take a lot of time and effort, but honestly I don’t think I’d ever change my writing process (save for the moments of frustration when I think I will lol) because of the sheer satisfaction of it. Whoever said so long never to settle on the first version, I owe you a beer and probably some curses as well lmao, but very lovingly. You shaped my writing life.

I don’t have much else to share about ‘quiv, other than it’s off with my beta readers my beloved, and maybe a tentative promise that, if anyone wants, you’ll be able to read this precious ball of hope of mine relatively soon. This story is so gentle to me. And as much as I loved to write and work on it, I dearly hope that whoever decides to give it a go, is treated just the same. That’s the only wish I have.

I also don’t know if I’ll go trad or self-published. Instincts say trad, because I fuckin’ suck at marketing (fact), and I know I’d grow resentful if I’d have to put so many hours into advertising when I know I could instead… write. I’m a writer. That’s the only thing I know how to do. Trad, however, might not be as kind on a ~200k as life’s been, so I might not have a choice. If it comes down to that… I’ll just treat it as I do everything. I don't love this story any less if I just write, publish without a fuss, hope that maybe, just maybe, a reader or two will stumble upon the story and we could talk. Maybe we can have the fun of our lives, create some genuine connection. I know that’s applies to a lot of writers. I hope we can accomplish it.

And so, I’ll finish this section of the wrap-up with a kiss to my ‘quiv, for all the warmth it’s ever brought me. It’s come so far, I know it can live distinct from me from now on. It brings me great comfort. And I look forward to the times I’ll reread it, and we can relive our best experiences together. Never thought I’d get to this point. Thank you, ‘quiv.

Remains of a Night♤♤♤

Mwhahaha! And because ‘quiv took all the pressure, this left AoS to be an extremely fun and spirited experience. Literally the chillest I’ve ever been writing. In many ways, it’s more my thing than I expected ‘quiv to be: I get to murder characters left and right, it’s more plot-heavy and banking on the tension created by a creature that horrifies the characters down to their marrow, but still the only way to defeat it is to know it better, which, uh, might have unpleasant consequences for them. It’s got chase and stealth scenes, and it always shoots me with adrenaline to think about them. In short, exactly my jam.

It’s not a new book, nope. You knew it before as Aberration of Sunlight, but from the get-go I felt it would be bigger than ‘quiv. Very fortunately for me, I had a place where to break it, and behold: there’s RoaN (book 1), and AoS (book 2). There might be a third book, which I dearly hope not because titling sucks, but it depends on the Sycamine arc. More on that in AoS.

One last thing to note, before we delve into the story (hoo-ray for earlier drafts, because I can talk more frankly about them). This is the culprit of my 1am writing adventures!!😫❤ My schedule became too packed, then NaNo came round and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to honor how AoS began, because it was last year’s NaNo, aaand I’m happy to say I won NaNo, somehow, with 56k down before I died. At that time, I only had one section left to write (from both books), otherwise, hahahaha, yeah, it wouldn’t have flown. Still, most of draft 2 I’d written in September-October, with my fairy lights, late nights, and cups of hot cocoa, exactly like how life should be<3

Alright. We’re going through them chapter-by-chapter again, exactly because I love seeing the titles so much:

ACT 1

Cracked Visor, Scorpion Grass

I did it! I did! Twas another shower thought I managed to get down in time. Bare broken sentences, but they did the impossible, and arranged this chapter into a structure I adore to bits and won't ever change. (And 'quiv's naughty voice left me alone for once and I could write it properly!) While I don't think I'll ever be happy with a first chapter (not as a concept, but the writing — part of me will always wish that the reader just had all the information already lol), this one is in the right place.

It pays its respects to the story of the broken helmet at the foot of a spaceship, and how it reconnects Madigan with all the people who'd suffered from being tethered to the planets when they yearned to fly, but the Beast punished them cruelly for it. It makes him feel phantoms of their efforts. The tone is exactly what I needed this story to start from: melancholy and numbly hopeless, against the backdrop of the Beasts's echoed cries.

Rain Through the Universe

Unlike 'quiv, because RoaN and AoS are way more plot-heavy, it's not as easy to change things willy-nilly (whereas 'quiv was all about character bonds and dynamics). As such, it's very similar to draft 1. Because of that, I'll frankendraft next (select and combine drafts 1 and 2, rewrite to connect them) and afterwards I'll try something I've always wanted to. (Scrivener keeps hinting at it!) I'm gonna split the chapters into scenes, and focus on those individually and how I can just rewrite them and set their purpose in stone<3 I'm excited!

As for the chapter itself, gods, I love the atmosphere. Just the wreckage of a sundered ship, and Madigan’s sudden madman appearance making a lasting impression on Spica, because how could it not. They no longer answer distress calls in that age, it just means more dead bodies. In fact, they're forbidden to. Madigan instead brings him what he himself lacks: hope. And a lot of crawling around while dreading the Beast's lambent eye opening, and oh my, the moments are really flying by😈👏 extreme fun for me as the writer.

Aberration of Light

If you remember, the books follow two timelines, which will connect at some point. The first and main one is Madigan and Spica’s story. The other is Holloway’s, in the distant past of that universe, and who’s been dubbed the most selfish man in existence. That’s important, because of how the Beast came to be. But that becomes important later. For now, a weird-ass new recruit has joined the ship, and the witchy crew will very soon start making bets if she’s the Beast in human flesh, which really wouldn’t bode well for their future.

Night Falls On Their Reflection

Draft 2 became Spica’s draft. It was high time. He didn't exist in the original idea beyond chapter 2, but he refused to die with his story untold. And now he's one of the most independent thinkers I've ever written. Now he's Madigan's son (yes, even at 25), best friend, back-to-back partner all in one, and I could watch the trust and mutual respect between these two forever. To be sure: Madigan comes up with the dumbass plans, and Spica's only too happy to follow him through everything (it is good fun.)

He's repaying the incredible kindness Madigan's shown him when answering his distress call, after all.

But it goes a bit further than that, doesn't it? Madigan is used to watching over myriad people. He's the Superintendent of his planet, and while he genuinely loves people, kindness is his default. It doesn't go further than that for him. He doesn't necessarily think people need, much less desire his presence there beyond Madigan extending help, and most of the time, he's content with that. Kindness does make him happy. And it should be the same with Spica now, shouldn't it? He's kind, but he's not Spica's family, nor ever will be. Yet he immediately feels a connection with the boy, that has nothing to do with bonding over escaping-a-cosmic-disaster. And so does Spica.

This is the moment when Madigan starts feeling guilty, for stepping where he should not. But here's the beauty of Spica's character: he's nothing if not dead sure of his own feelings, and what he sees with his eyes. It's okay if Madigan keeps unexpectedly taking steps back. For very long, there'd been nobody to support Spica's beliefs. So he does the same, as when he followed his heart to go into dead space: he believes in himself and Madigan, and that their paths aren't meant to diverge. They mean too much to each other for that to ever happen.

(In short, and legend says you can still hear me screeching about these two ten thousand years later, I love these two so much, and especially the parallels between Spica going alone into outer space and loving Madigan.)

(And, okay, obviously all these developments don't happen in a single chapter, but I couldn't stop gushing🤭🥰.)

Who Puts These Tombs in Ice

Overall, I think draft 2’s Luitgart performed worse than draft 1. Mainly it's the setting I want to revert (still an icy, sempiternally dark hell, but with different ice constructions) because some of the beats are a huge improvement, and again, I gotta combine the two. Otherwise, I’m still as obsessed about the Luitgart arc as I’ve ever been, and huge thanks to it for being so strong it could function as an ending of its own, allowing me to split the book.

Gettin’ into spoilery territory, but I have to un-kill Madigan so many times it leaves me in hysterics. That was what I was supposed to fix this draft. It got worse. Considerably.

(One constant: the chapter being a love letter to Madigan, and how his first answer will always be to help the other, no matter if they deserve it or not<3 and finally, finally, he gets acknowledged for it, and the favor returned.)

ACT 2

Lemon-Dotted Days + Remnant

Two Holloway chapters! I’m actually massively pleased with how they’ve turned out. Last year, I said the main issue was that I had an outline, and that never works for me. So I did what I do best and rewrote everything from scratch, and the result is both uncanny and… unexpected.

Unexpected, because I never in my life thought Holloway’s voice would make me laugh so much. He’s supposed to be unsympathetic, but then you get his interactions with Saintlark (the new crewmate, possibly Beast) where they’re contemplating the harvest of a nebula, and he’s harshly critical of it, which gives Saintlark hope… only to go deadpan One Moment Later: if they’d used the nebula to prolong their lives instead of bolstering the war, they wouldn’t have died like clown idiots.

And, they could’ve maybe stolen immortality from the nebula. They would've had to share it with him, of course. Or he would've murdered them to get it.

That, my guys, is his personality in a nutshell.

I have a lot of feelings on Holloway now, and most involve me huffing and slapping my forehead while groaning, but oh my gods. Was it ever so fun. And wait, wait, wait. Since I'm talking of humor (apparently a lot of comedy fit into this horror lmfao) I have to show you guys the following section🤣🤣👏:

Corpse Snow

The drifters are set howling on the ice. They share glances, five separate vehicles nodding at each other. Madigan revs up the engine, splitting the air with a jet of steam and vibration.

The last of the marines are climbing into the box. A figure flashes past Madigan’s drifter — and he leans over, teeth grinding because of his ribs, and he does his very best to grab someone by the back of their suit and pull. Workout days were never his strength, though. He only succeeds in stopping them in the frost smoke.

It’s Spica dangling from his hand, expressionless.

Lieutenant Hahn instantly seizes on the situation. He throws Madigan a long, withering look. “Whatcha doing, Boss?” he asks softly, about to unhinge his jaw again.

Madigan nudges Spica into the drifter. “Picking up your boy.”

Spica gets the hint and deposits himself into the front seat, glancing from his father to his Superintendent. He seems to give up on whatever’s going on, and makes himself cozy in the frosty spot. And Madigan, of course, pretends not to notice Hahn’s drifter sliding closer.

“And you didn’t consider I might want to have my son with me?”

Madigan looks up and sighs. “Lieutenant, dear Lieutenant,” he starts pleadingly. “Why won’t you show some leniency to a poor, wounded man?”

Hahn’s drifter stops, summoning a breeze across the icy floor that gently rocks the other vehicle. His breathing distorts the comms with static. “And what exactly is my son right now?”

“My trusty navigator,” Madigan answers easily.

“Sir’s emotional walking stick?” Spica pipes in at the same time.

They both look over. Spica’s quietly turned to the navigation, as serene as daylight, seemingly oblivious to how Madigan's expression changes, lightning-fast. He quickly hides it under the guise of a polite mask, as the marines stir and turn their attention on them. They’re snickering.

Lieutenant Hahn throws up his hands, giving up on everything.

This is also the first 30k chapter I’ve ever written. It's everything I've ever wanted to do with ice.

Heart of the Void

The end of the book. Originally, it was the ending section to Corpse Snow, but since it already got so ungodly long, I chipped off that bit and I have to say I’m very happy with how it works as an epilogue! So it ends the frosty, weary journey, and I can’t see the two books as separate yet, but here we bid goodbye to the first.

Aberration of Sunlight♧♧♧

I did the unthinkable and created a fifth arc. This might not seem like much to you, but I was screaming bloody murder you guys😭😭😭. Sigh. It’s so sigh. For so long, AoS consisted of four clear-cut acts, but it was necessary. With the introduction of Sycamine, and making it two books, it was just needed. It’s still one of the worst things I’ve ever done because I was used to four😃💔

(The chapters continue from where RoaN left off – from chapter 10, to 21.)

ACT 3

Retro Spectrum

Sycamine, oh Sycamine. Definitely the break I needed before Days in Darkness. It made for a really neat beginning. It’s calmer, focusing on the knowledge they have on the Beast. It’s also a reflection on Procyon (their main star) and the story of the two straggler dog constellations, and what they'd been running away from. I liked the direction it took. It veered away from the Beast for a bit, so the tension kept expanding in the background. And when it returns, well... maybe they shouldn't have been so eager to see it again🤭.

It suffers from the same syndrome as draft 1’s first chapter… it’s there in the vicinity of the idea, but too much to the left. Not bad for a first attempt. The setting annoys me – I really don't enjoy writing cities, and AoS didn't change that. So, for our next try, I was thinking... maybe we don't need to be on the planet, but up close and veeery personal with it. It's a secret❤.

And, oh gods. I put a moustache-twirling villain in this. And then I couldn’t stop myself from naming some sucker Sweetman Calories. I don’t know what happened to me during those days, but I’m crying🤣🤣🤣.

Toast to the Light

Holloway and Saintlark’s story is slowly coming to an end. Unexpectedly bleaker than draft 1, yet it feels much more sincere. Holloway has a way of saying everything Saintlark needs to hear. No surprise. They did that to themselves.

Dissonant Recognition

Ahhhh, the Madigan-is-slowly-losing-his-grip-on-reality chapter, or maybe he should really stop staring into the suns. One of my favorites<3 Also because it features Moren (!!!) who has a blast staying in the grey morality area, because she doesn’t know if her actions could ever matter, or if she could change anything. Does she just exist? Is she a player or just pawn? Who knows. Besides that, she gets along great with Spica. They form such a teasing duo, the level of mutual respect they felt for each other on sight was a delight to write. My favorite ally of theirs, even if her destiny lies elsewhere.

Night Beneath the Elevator

Best title hands down, dethroning Solgesis. I’m going batshit crazy about the visuals, it's exactly my thing. This half-light slanted over an elevator waiting in a rundown basement to be boarded. And there's something underneath it, and always has been. Something insidiously creeping up and waving its tendril fingers at you as you're just waiting for the fucking thing to ascend. Immaculate, guys, I'm telling you, and I'm cursing my hands because I can't make a wallpaper of this. I want to eat that atmosphere.

Time-sensitive missions, y'all.

And why the heck did nobody inform me I was going to add Command as an actual character and have them talk with Madigan?! That entire convo, made up entirely on the spot but somehow with a direction, made me realize what an idiot I’d been for not doing it sooner. They mean so much to Madigan, after all.

(And Mariya. So much Mariya in these chapters.)

ACT 4

Loop System

Like Who Puts These Tombs in Ice, draft 1 might’ve done it better. Not Spica and Madigan, though, because of the sheer development Spica’s been through and the dynamic he’s managed to form with the crew. It's different from Madigan’s, but similar enough that it’s got Hahn commenting lightly: [Spica’s] picked up quite a few habits from Madigan, hasn’t he? Almost as if they’ve gotten very very close, huh? How about Madigan tell him more?

(I adore writing Hahn.)

Outreach

Another Holloway chapter. Doesn’t have the punch of the kids subplot from draft 1, but this just makes it worse for Saintlark personally, because, this time, the consequences are on her.

Days in Darkness

I knew the moment I first got the idea this would be my favorite chapter. Well, it finally happened in draft 2: when the entire crew is here, this time, and ready for the final countdown, to relive the experience of being trapped in a ship that's disintegrating. No more heroes left behind. I'd been so tired writing this chapter in draft 1, but this time around it was incredible. Everything went up sharply from here, both in terms of events and how on fire I was.

(Maybe less than the gorgon, but I was.)

ACT 5

Echo Terminal

The first of the two log chapters.

I've never written smoother, more visual chapters than in this period. Days in Darkness changed me so much, I was writing day and night by this point and couldn't get enough. Well, I hit my limit in the second half of the very last chapter, but I am beyond satisfied. Even the Beast's metamorphosis took me by storm, because I'd been wondering what the final verbs, the final images, the final design for it was going to be. I didn't expect it to come to me this early, and with such thrill. Those were my very best days of the year, and I toast to them.

(And I knew it was going to be fantastic when Halo's Warthog Run OST started blaring in my head, with as much adrenaline.)

Where, Now? + Solgesis

My beloved. The second and last of the two log chapters, but it’s Noelle Saintlark’s log.

Holloway’s timeline ends here. Or maybe it just gets carried into the future. I thought I’d want to rewrite his parts again, make the plot just a tiny bit more psychedelic and nonsensical because it’s so close to the Beast… but Solgesis put all my fears to rest. Even the formatting and layout is a bit of that special thing I’ve always wanted to try, and it really changes the perspective of the previous chapters. There's a new confession that stands at the heart of Holloway's stories.

Honestly, the only thing that needs urgent working on is the anger at the end of the chapter.

Anger is so hard for me to write sometimes. Not because I don’t connect with it, but because I feel self-conscious writing it. The wildest I felt it was when I tackled 'quiv's chapter 3 and Imera's Turning speech, both in quick succession (before I'd even written draft 1. I'd been taking notes.) Since then... I just thing back to how keenly I'd felt that anger, and I kind of intimidate myself out of it. Kind of like a natural resistence, I quench it from myself. Which is actually hilarious when you think about it. It’s like I’m going I BANISH THEE FROM MY BRAIN because generally, as a person, I dislike feeling and operating on anger. But no worries. I’m going to find a way around it.

Watch me😎.

What Goes Around…

(Now it’s the time for me to start crying some rivers, and, alright, it won’t be visible so I’ll say it: the chapter titles are holding a conversation, guys. They speak to each other. And sometimes it’s both sides of the same coin, like how What Goes Around (comes around) hints here. If you take two chapters, one from the beginning and one from the end (for example 1 and 21) it'll tell you a little secret. Okay, What Goes Around and Rain Through the Universe communicate through their plot, which I can’t spoil but of course it has to do with Madigan and Spica and how they first meet… but there is one title pair that does it best visibly.

Lemon-Dotted Days and Days in Darkness.

And I hadn’t even planned this. All the parallels I wanted to draw… I feel like they built themselves, guys. They really did, and it makes me so wildly happy I don’t even know how to stop my hands from flailing.

And, with them being 21 chapters, they meet in the middle, on the one unpaired chapter.

Called Toast to the Light.

I friggin’ love everything.

New Sunrise, Forget-Me-Right

Of course, Forget-Me-Right is a play on Scorpion Grass. But it’s also such a gentle name for the chapter, because everything ends here. Lying on their backs, staring out into the universe, and it really, really is over. Just a dark horizon on which stars flare and bloom. And suddenly, that maddened rush to make every sacrifice count, to remember every soul they’ve encountered because the legend says the Beast absorbs you when it kills you – all that suffocating pressure dissipates. Lightness remains. Because they’ve protected each other.

For the first time in my writing journey, blood rushed to my head with such emotion I had to stop writing, which never happens. I had to look up and exclaim, holy fuck. But how could I not, considering how the story ends for the Beast? I am speechless. A lot of gorgeous surprises this draft.

Conclusion□●□

Whew, what a year it's been! As for how 2024 will probably look like, though I don't like making plans: finishing the beta stage for 'quiv, and tackling RoaN and AoS's draft 3. Thaaaat one I'm actually starting on Christmas, when I can (finally!!) reread draft 2 with my mug of hot cocoa (or maybe mulled wine for a change) and, no surprises here, I'm hyper stoked for that<3 <3 <3 I legit can't wait to see where the new draft brings them. I might not have set any expectations for them, but they're vying to keep up with 'quiv and I adore it🤭❤

As for my lovely friends... well, you know by how I spam your tags how much I adore you and wish you happiness forever🤩🥺🥳 I don't know what my activity will look like in the near future, so for now I won't be saying anything, and my semi-hiatus continues. Semi, because you're unforgettable and I crave to see what everyone's been up to and (!!!!) what you've written!

So let's meet in 2024 again, and all the best wishes to you, the reader🥰🥂❤.

#ayearofwriting #2023 #aquiver-aglow #aberration of sunlight

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andreafmn · 1 year

Text

In the Heat of the Moment | Part 2

Word Count: 4.2K

Pairing: Jake Sully x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader, mentioned Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Story Description: Every month female Omatikayans go through their heat whilst men go through their rut. It’s a time for mates to engage in the most animalistic desires. But when one of the two is gone, it can be a rather painstaking endeavor. With Neteyam gone on a hunting trip, (Y/N) has to go through her heat alone for the first time. Or does she?

Warnings: SMUT (+18, minors DNI), cheating, p in v sex, oral (fem and male receiving), tongue fucking, breeding kink if you squint,

All characters are of age/over 18

A/N: I'm not sure if anyone actually reads my notes but either way, I regret nothing!! Here I am with part two to this story that was meant to be a one shot and now I'm planning on possibly five parts since so many of you liked it. I've loved all the feedback this story is received and it's been great practice for my smut scenes. ENJOY!!

My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts to support me and my love of writing🥺👉👈. Hope you enjoy, and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

Dedicated to @crazy4books1 for being the first to ask for a part 2, I actually did it!

Follow 😊 -> TikTok • Instagram • Business

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In the Heat of the Moment | Part 2

Jake Sully was thankful for the late hours of the night as he walked to a clearing to wash (Y/N)’s scent off his body. As much as he wanted to bask in the intoxicating smell of the young woman, he could not go back to his nest with her aroma on his skin.

Pretend. That’s what he needed to do. He would pretend he had not felt her skin; that he had not kissed her supple lips; that he’d not tasted her; that he’d not felt how she clenched around him; that he had

“So, how was (Y/N)?” Lo’ak startled Jake as the man walked into his family’s tent. “You were gone for some time.”

“And you guys are still up?”

“We couldn’t fall asleep until you came back,” Kiri explained. “How is she?”

“Well, she was a bit sad,” he explained, taking a spot on the ground. His children were quick to crowd him, worry for their sister-in-law evident in their yellow eyes. “You know, it’s the first time Neteyam is away for so long and she’s having a hard time with it. But I, uh, calmed her down and she’s resting right now. (Y/N) might not be out too much these days but I’m sure once your mom and Neteyam come back everything will go back to normal.”

Jake didn’t know if he was saying that to convince his children or to convince himself. There would come a point where everything had to go back to how it was. For each person to go back to their respective mates and continue their families. Everything back to normal.

Normal.

What was their normal?

How could he go back to a normal where he couldn’t feel her? Back to where he couldn’t kiss her or touch her?

Back to normal.

Where he was the dutiful husband of Neytiri, the tsakarem of their clan. A proud father to Neteyam, Kiri, Lo’ak, and Tuktirey. The Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya clan. Toruk Macto. The father-in-law of (Y/N), wife to his firstborn.

That was his normal. That was her normal. Their normal.

“I got these feathers for (Y/N), daddy,” Tuk said as her father laid her to rest. “Do you think I can take them to her tomorrow?”

“Tell you what,” he smiled. Opportunity. “Since she’s still a bit sad, why don’t I take them to her? I’ll go visit her first thing in the morning and take them there. Later on, I’ll tell her to come by so you can braid them into her hair. How does that sound?”

“That’s perfect, daddy.”

It was perfect.

***

Neteyam.

His name pounded in (Y/N)’s head, pulling sleep from her body. Neteyam. It reverberated loudly inside her mind. It flowed from her head to the tip of her toes. His name rushed through her as naturally as the blood in her veins, as necessary as the air in her lungs. He was the whisper from Eywa when she had been asking for a miracle.

The miracle she had thrown away for a night of passion.

A night with her miracle’s father.

She loved her husband. Her heart had and would always belong to him, that is what Eywa had established. Yet, she could not forget the events of the night before. The warmth between her legs ached for someone else. It ached for Jake Sully.

The touch of his hands lingered on her skin, the marks on her body only a momentary memento of the things she had felt. The only testament that the night had happened – for now. She could feel his breath on hers, how full he made her feel, how good he’d made her feel.

“Help me, Great Mother,” (Y/N) breathed as she decided to ready herself for the day, regardless of how early it was. Not even the early risers were awake at that hour, but slumber did not find her.

But it was hard.

The yearning she felt was overtaking. Her knees felt weakened, her breathing was shallow, her head buzzing. All she wanted – all she needed – was one more time with him. Just one more and she could get him out of her system. One more and she could teach her own husband what she needed.

Yet, all she could think of was the firmness of Jake’s muscles pressed against her, his tongue on her core, his hands on her breasts, his hardness stretching her insides. It was enough to have her plopping down on her mattress and snake her hand between her thighs to find any sort of relief.

“Well, isn’t this a welcoming surprise?”

Jake’s voice startled (Y/N), a sense of deja vu flushing over her. He stood at the entrance of her nest, the flap tight in one hand and a bundle of feathers in the other. But what had her clenching her legs together was the mischievous grin that spread across his face.

“S-sir,” she choked. “What are you doing here?”

“I was here to bring some feathers Tuk gathered to cheer you up,” he lied. Well, half lied. “But it seems you didn’t get enough last night.”

Without another thought, Jake closed the distance between them just as he had done the night before. He took hold of (Y/N)’s waist, placing her on his lap, her legs straddling him. He breathed in deeply, smiling as her scent filled his nostrils. He reveled in the warmth of her skin against his, his hands tracing the expanse of her body once more.

It was almost an exact replay of what had already happened, with more experience and twice the arousal.

“We-we shouldn’t do this again, ma Jake.” Her breathing was staggered. Her yellow eyes stared anywhere but into his. “Last night. It should have never happened.”

“Are you saying you don’t want it to happen again?” he teased, his brows furrowing in amusement. “Because something else I’m feeling is telling me otherwise, baby girl.”

“Please, ma Jake.”

“What’re you asking for, baby? Are begging for me to take you right now or for me to reject myself for you?” When (Y/N)’s eyes flicked up to his, his resolve broke. Jake could see the affliction behind the yellow of her irises. She was struggling with the moment they had shared together. Whether it was because she regretted it or because she was ashamed of how much she loved it, he had yet to figure it out. “Is that what you really want, (Y/N)? Do you want me to go and leave you in such a fragile state, oeyä hì’iʼawpo? I don’t think I could.”

“You are my Neteyam’s father,” she sobbed, tears darkening her blue skin. “You have your mate and so do I. You are Olo’eyktan of our clan and have enough to worry about. My pain should be just mine to bear.”

“Because I am your Olo’eyktan, that is why I care, baby girl. It is my job to make sure everyone in the tribe is taken care of.” When his attempt to lighten the mood was met with no response, he placed a comforting hand on her cheek. With the pad of his thumb, he wiped away the streams that had fallen, revealing the red hue that was overtaking her skin. “I am doing this because I care for you, little one. I know the situation is not the most… ideal. But we shouldn’t lie to ourselves. Last night shouldn’t be left as a one-time thing. At least not for the rest of the week. You won’t make it, baby.”

He dipped his free hand under her loincloth, his fingers swiping at her wetness. At the contact, (Y/N)’s head fell onto the crook of his neck, the suddenness of the contact overwhelming her quickly in her state.

“Tell me, right now, to leave you, ma (Y/N) and I will,” he whispered against her ear, the fingers between her legs slowly working the sensitive bundle of nerves there. “Tell me to go and I will.”

“I… I…”

“Tell me, (Y/N). Right now.”

When he stopped his movements, (Y/N) found herself forced to stare back into his eyes, the lust overload she felt flooded her slowly at first, then all at once. And whatever force that overtook her had her slamming her lips onto the older man’s, savoring the taste she had first discovered mere hours before.

“Don’t go,” she whispered. It took all the strength in her body to admit it out loud. To admit that regardless of her love for Neteyam, her body was asking for another man. “Please, don’t go.”

The way her voice came out in whimpers and her chin quivered warmed Jake’s heart. He smiled at her teary eyes, his fingers tracing gingerly the features of her face. At that moment he could see her lack of experience — in life, in relationships, in sex.

“Okay, sevin. I’ll stay,” he smiled. “Now, tell me what it is that you want, baby girl.”

“I want you to make me feel like you did last night,” she purred. “I want you to fuck me until I can’t move.”

“Careful what you wish for, little one.”

Jake placed his hands on either side of her face, pulling her in for a rough kiss. The mere contact was enough to siphon a whimper from her. It was a mixture of surprise and the desire that had already cemented itself in her very core. She had not known she would ever yearn for this man, not this strongly.

Her body reacted to every touch from his body. It erupted in shivers as electricity coursed through her limbs. The warmth inside her whispered his name softly, rushing through her like a wild river. There was a version of her that had only been born when Jake Sully came into her nest the night before. Something inside her had ignited after the first touch and it had not smothered down.

(Y/N) snaked her arms around his neck, pushing her body flush against his. Their kiss was rushed and feverish, teeth banging and a mess of tongues. It was just as hungry as it had been the night before, but they were not the same. They had heard each other’s sounds, tasted each other, and felt each other. Even if the moment was, in essence, the same as the night before, they were not.

“There’s something I want to do,” (Y/N) panted, resting her forehead against his. “Something we did not get to do last night.”

“Mmm, and what is that, little one?” he chuckled. “We did just about everything.”

The girl climbed down from his lap as his eyes tracked her every movement. On her face, a devilish grin stretched across her lips. She fell to her knees as she undid Jake’s loincloth, revealing his already hard member. The dark blue tip glistened with precum, a testament to what she did to him.

She positioned herself between his legs, spreading them with her hands to gain full access to the man. His body tensed as her lips grazed the skin of his thighs, leaving wet marks as she worked her way to her prize.

The younger woman grinned as she saw the way his breathing quickened, his chest rising and falling at a fast pace. She brought one hand to the shaft, using a finger to gather his wetness to spread it onto his length. (Y/N) stroked him gingerly, preparing him for the attack she had planned. She memorized every ridge and vein that protruded on his cock, his length, and his thickness. She committed to memory every spot that made his leg twitch. She cemented in her head every touch that made his breath hitch.

Then, as Jake started growing used to the feeling of her hand, she grabbed the base of his cock and placed a delicate kiss on the darker head. The heat from her plump lips was enough to bring Jake close to his release. It was unexpected and far too thrilling.

She then parted her lips, stretching her mouth to fit the tip of his member inside. Her tongue swirled around the head, making sure to taste the expanse of the skin. (Y/N) smiled as Jake’s head fell back, a moan escaping his throat.

She had only done this a couple of times. It was one of the only things Neteyam and her had done before they had mated before Eywa. Even if she did not know much about what she was doing, she was sure she was good enough at it. She enjoyed how he clenched his hands on her sheets, the way the muscles of his chest tightened as well. She basked in the movement of his midriff, the rising and falling as he took in quick breaths.

“Fu~uck,” he groaned out. “You are something else, (Y/N).”

With a chuckle that reverberated across his body, (Y/N) took more of him inside her mouth. She worked slowly and deliberately, growing used to the stretch in her jaw. It was more than she had ever taken – he was more.

Despite the aching that was building in her mouth, she took him deeper, her tongue pressed against him. She went farther and farther until she felt him reach the back of her throat. (Y/N) tensed as the air was cut from her lungs, but she fought against the instinct to completely take him out. Instead, she relaxed her throat and took him until her nose hit the skin of his pelvis, gagging slightly.

The burn made tears form in the corners of her eyes. Still, she bobbed her head as she hollowed her cheeks, drinking in the sounds that escaped Jake. Her tongue swirled around his skin as she slipped her mouth up and down his shaft.

Jake straightened up, his eyes fixated on the movement of the girl’s head. He pushed the braids that had fallen on her face back, stopping them from sticking to the wetness that was on her face. Her forehead glistened with beads of sweat and her chin shone from the saliva that was running down the corners of her mouth. It was an image that fueled the fire inside him, triggering his very basic primal instincts.

As much as he wanted her to continue to lead, he wanted to chase his release more. His hands tangled into her hair, gripping it just enough to make it hurt, and he started thrusting into her. He plummeted his cock into her throat, ignoring how she sputtered and choked around him.

Her eyes had started streaming with tears, growing red from the limited oxygen. Her cheeks turned a deep shade of purple, speckled with beads of sweat. Exactly the vision that Jake wanted as he savored the feeling of his length engulfed in wet heat.

“You’re doing so good, baby girl,” he groaned. “You’re taking my cock perfectly, sevin. I’m so fucking close.”

(Y/N) couldn’t do much but smile in response. As Jake fucked her mouth, all she could do was hold onto his knees for support and allow the man to use her mouth for his pleasure. She could feel herself grow wetter at the thought.

Of course, she enjoyed passion and tenderness, which is what Neteyam always provided her with. But that’s not what she wanted at that moment. She wanted the type of fucking that she could feel under her skin. The kind that left its mark on the person, both physically and emotionally. She wanted to be used and to use in response.

Jake Sully granted her that wish. Everything happened for a reason, she thought. Maybe this was an answer to another one of her prayers. Another miracle dressed in temptation and sin. If this was another message from the Great Mother, she had tentatively accepted it. It did have an expiration date, so it was now or never.

He could feel his climax peeking through. As he moved (Y/N)’s head in synch with his thrusts, he could feel the clenching from his insides begging to be released. But he also wanted to study the image between his legs. He wanted to commit to memory how she looked as she knelt in front of him, mouth stuffed of him; her glazed eyes and her downturned ears; her tail swishing excitedly behind her; her face purple from the excitement and the loss of breath. It was the most entrancing image he had seen.

“Fuck!” Jake exclaimed as he felt himself burst inside her. Unconsciously, he held her head against his pelvis, forcing her to accept every drop of his seed. As he finished, he pulled away from her mouth, her lips slick and swollen, his cock already growing harder once more. “Goddess, you’re perfect, baby girl. Come here.”

He pulled her up, her face meeting his. Jake placed a deep kiss on her lips, groaning as he tasted himself on her tongue. He wiped away the tears that had streaked down her cheeks, kissing from her mouth to her eyes, every inch of her face.

“I want you, ma Jake,” she whined as he moved down her jaw, trailing the track he had left the night before. “I’m so empty right now.”

“You’re needy today, little one,” he grinned. A chuckle escaped him as the girl coyly nodded. “Don’t worry. I won’t make you wait much.”

He slipped a hand under her, his fingers prodding at her wetness once more. “Rutxe,” she cried. “I need you now.”

“On your hands and knees then,” he commanded. “I’ll fuck you like the animal you’ve become.”

(Y/N) scattered to the mat, quick to do as told. Anticipation swelled inside her as she felt the man move behind her. First, he removed the loincloth that hid her from his eyes, exposing the drenched entrance that clenched around nothing.

He wanted to give her exactly what she was begging for. He wanted to sink into her warmth and lose himself in the feeling of her tightness. But he needed to taste her again. He needed to lap from her as his mouth grew dry. He was completely addicted.

Jake got on his knees and attacked her core. His tongue traced her slit, having her moan out at the sudden contact. He traced her from her clit to her entrance, drinking her essence as it seeped inside him. With his thumb, he circled the aching nub. And with his tongue, he probed her insides.

“Fuck, ma Jake,” she mewled. “Your tongue…”

The words died from her mouth as the man continued his attack, her arms close to giving out. His thumb glided over her clit, rolling it under the pad of his finger, as his long tongue pushed its way into her core. It thrust inside her, pumping into her over and over.

As he continued to plunge it into her, he knew she was nearing a release. The way she clenched around him, threatened to rip his tongue out of his mouth. Still, he kept ambushing her insides. He traveled her walls and pumped in and out of her core, learning the map of her body with just his mouth.

“Oh fuck, sir,” she wailed as her climax ransacked her body, her essence rushing out of her and dripping down his chin. “That was…”

“You taste just as good as yesterday,” he grinned. “Absolutely intoxicating, sevin.”

“But I still need you,” (Y/N) whined once more. “Please.”

“Alright, alright,” he chuckled. “Here I come.”

Jake gripped her hip with one hand and aligned himself with her dripping entrance. He gripped his shaft, teasing her folds with his tip. He earned a groan from (Y/N) as he passed over her aching bud, letting out a chuckle in response.

“Ma Jake,” she groaned. “Rutxe, sir.”

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

Finally, he thrust into her, meeting her hips in one fell swoop, making her arms give out and her chest press against the sheets. Her tightness enveloped him completely, making him feel like he belonged there. That she had been perfectly crafted to be filled by him and only him. A fulfilling and overwhelming moment all in itself.

He plunged inside her, setting a quick pace from the beginning, his resolve chipping away as he felt her walls around him. His tail wrapped around their legs, trying to pull her closer to his body. The warmth that surrounded him felt exhilarating, the type of comfort he always craved.

Jake felt like a young and inexperienced boy as he rutted inside her, the tight coil in his stomach threatening to spill with just a couple of thrusts. It was taking everything in him not to bust quickly.

Choosing to keep his strength to finish with her, he fell on her back, his chest tightly pressed to her skin. He kept pushing into her, a hand snaking around her waist to find the bundle of nerves that would bring forth her end.

“You’re doing so good, baby girl,” he whispered into her flickering ears as his own took in her moans and whimpers. “You take me so well. Fuck. I can feel how close you are, little one. Don’t hold back.”

Working her clit as fast as he was thrusting in her had (Y/N) bursting at the same time Jake exploded, his seed once more mixing with her arousal. The thought that this moment or the one from the night before raised the chance for her belly to swell with his own offspring made Jake’s chest swell with pride. The only people who would ever know who the real father was would only be them. Their own perfect secret.

As they both came down from their orgasms, the man placed comforting kisses to (Y/N)’s face, ears, and neck. She panted under him, her body shivering as she recovered from the pleasure that shot through her.

Still intertwined, Jake fell onto the bed, cradling her body close to his. He’d promised himself the night before, no intimacy. That if he got another opportunity to be with (Y/N) that it would simply be for carnal necessities, nothing more. He could not allow himself to cross that line.

But he couldn’t bring himself to leave just yet. As exhaustion wrapped itself around the girl, he felt the need to envelop her in his arms. He pulled himself out of her as he felt his cock grow softer, earning a groan from the tired girl as she felt the emptiness inside her.

(Y/N) shifted in her sleepy state, her head landing on Jake’s chest where his heartbeat was softly lulling her into slumber, regardless of the early hours of the day. One of his arms drew shapes onto her back as the other wrapped protectively around her forearm, which was spread across his waist.

“This is wrong, isn’t it?” (Y/N) whispered softly, breaking the sleep that was taking over Jake. He could feel droplets of tears land on his chest, sure they were coming from her beautiful yellow eyes. “What we’ve done… it’s gonna tear the family apart.”

A sigh left his body. She was right. There was no best-case scenario that could come from this situation. At best, they lived with the horrible secret that they had been unfaithful to their mates. Worst case, they would be exiled and forced to live in shame for the rest of their lives.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about that just now,” he smiled instead, looking down at the worried younger woman. “We have four more days to think of a solution.”

“But what if someone finds out before then, ma Jake? I don’t think I could live without this family.”

“You don’t have to concern yourself with things that will not happen,” Jake comforted, trying to find some truth in his words. “One thing at a time, sevin. Go to sleep, daybreak is a couple of hours away.”

“But, sir…”

“Sleep, (Y/N). I promise I’ll find a solution to this.”

She finally listened to him, fluttering her eyes closed and hugging herself closer to his chest. But she couldn’t help the worry that lived in the back of her head. (Y/N) and Jake had committed — and seemingly planned to continue to — the worst kind of betrayal they could. They had laid with each other whilst mated to other people. The worst part, she loved it.

She loved how Jake made her feel. The way he knew what she wanted, what her body needed. She enjoyed having her body used and using his. It was wrong and immoral, but so intoxicating that it blurred all reason.

(Y/N) hoped Jake could come up with a solution that would allow them to keep their mates and to partake in their “extracurricular” activities. But she remembered a saying from the sky people Jake had taught his children when they were younger, “You can’t have your cake and eat it too.”

When he’d first said it, she had not understood its meaning. But she was finally living it.

Next ->

Taglist: @uwunuggetchan @ellabellabus07 @jake-sullys-whore @sweetllamaparadise @irisskies

Tagged a couple of y'all that commented on the first part so you didn't miss out 💖

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ririya-translates · 8 months

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The Priest

Ishida posted another winter play backstory for Kai's birthday (Sept. 23rd). It was a bit late but worth it because it's quite long and gives us a lot of new insight. I've included the new art and the BGM link from the original post. It's worth noting that this is the only post so far where Ishida and Towada seem to have a split in how they interpret the character (more on that at the end). I did my best as a fan to translate the posts from both of them. End of Jack Jeanne winter play spoilers.

Upon getting into bed and becoming drowsy, Sounds are heard approaching. The sounds of soldiers' boots.

The sounds of trampling and splitting lifeless bones, Destroying the mellow Neshiromi fragrance. Boats being consumed by the sea release piercing shrieks. Angels spilling tears of blood call out the names of their mothers. Wings of pure white grew out of the man's back.

The man carried guns and swords in his hands. On his chest was an iron badge.

He pulled the trigger like a broken doll And was rapidly swallowed up into a boundless sky. Wanting to see that far-away view, the man continued to pull the trigger.

As the man ascended up to the sky, he could see all the way to the other side of the mountains.

Suddenly, the feathers were plucked from his shoulders, Turning upside down, the man hurtled downward at intense speed as he screamed at the top of his lungs. After being violently pounded into the land of lead, The shock of being broken into pieces severed the thread of drowsiness. This repeated until morning. Every day, this repeated.

The man had always longed for a dreamless sleep, But it was never granted to him.

He opened the Bible. He gazed at it in the dim light as the morning sun was just showing its face.

The man could not read the words. Possibly due to the ball of lead lodged in his head. Before that, he read it through multiple times, but never understood the meaning. However, there was assuredly something good written there.

All he could do was gaze upon the letters as if they were orderly arranged worm carcasses, Yet the man's heart was able to calm just a little. And in this way, it began to tame him.

When the sun rose, like a corpse strung together with thread, He plodded towards the confessional.

The man liked to hear the repentances of others.

Hearing another's sins made his heart dance. If others regretted their sins, he thought that even humans were not things to be thrown away.

If others were rebuked of sin, even the anger could be felt inside.

He felt he did not have faith and that he was a sinner, But as he took on this priest-like role, the line to the confessional never ended. This city had been utterly choked by sin.

Lending his ear to people just like a wall, He listened intently and added the appropriate words.

Afterwards, everyone would head home satisfied. If they were led to believe that this wall had a heart, They didn't seem to mind that they were undoubtedly talking to a wall.

The confessional booth was a garbage can. Sins were garbage. Every person here came to throw away their waste. It would pile up for a few days until they came to throw it out again so they could face tomorrow anew. To the man, this trash was of great importance.

For him, the sins of others were an anesthetic for the spirit. Confessions were like Mama's burnt cookies. He crunched upon them greedily. He continued like this until he was finally full, Expectant that maybe then he could sleep peacefully. The man had become a wall and continued listening to confessions day after day. But the man was never able to sleep.

"In the end, the body is the coffin of the soul. No matter how far I go I will never be able to escape myself. My soul is held captive by my body And they can never separate. Until death.

I am afraid. My body is afraid of my heart. It is truly fearsome.

I can't escape from my own life. What on earth is this?!

My soot-stained soul makes my flesh ache. My body has regrettably been dragged along by my heart.

To eternally endure life as this sort of human, All I can do is abandon myself.

Catching small amounts of sleep, but only ever that. Even so, it allowed me to glimpse the world outside of this prison.

Certainly, in the beginning, the one torturing my heart Was me. This thing known as the heart seems to bear a truly horrific seed Which is why punishments are enforced.

It was what no longer allowed me to sleep, What granted this horrendous pain in my head. And even yet, the feelings in my heart will never be cleared in all of eternity. Please, enough already! Can you not forgive me?"

Neji's note) The priest is Havenna itself. He is a symbol of Havenna. His fall into depravity at the end shows him becoming more like Havenna itself.

(Ishida's note) What's written above is Ishida's interpretation. By the way, when I asked about Towada's interpretation of the priest She said a number of things but overall She thought back fondly on the cabbage patch kids it seemed. Well, that's what I think. What do you all think?

[After this, Towada tweeted this cryptic post about the cabbage patch kids. It's unclear who is speaking in it since most of it is phrased like how you'd write a warning on a sign. Ishida retweeted this just saying "O Rama Havenna"]

/Do not apply religious faith to the physical human form /Do not attempt to understand faith /At the moment of understanding, it will be bitten off by cruelty and degraded until it is only something to chew on /After that, it can never return to its original form /Do not touch that desire named 'understanding' /That person has no front and no back /Can you simply just love and kiss the cabbage patch kids? /O Rama Havenna

#jack jeanne #jackjeanne #sui ishida #shin towada #translation #this is gonna rot in my brain until the end of time

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strawberrypinky · 10 months

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all your loving (all or nothing) pt. 1 - a. sharp x reader

for the longest time, aesop sharp was absolutely certain that he must have eradicated an entire civilisation in his past life, as there was no other possible explanation for the sheer torture in found himself in. but as the months went on and the weather became warmer, and the flowers were blooming again, he found himself believing that retribution was possible – even for someone like him.

or: aesop sharp is an idiot in love with a breeding kink and this escalated in ways i can never speak of.

A/N: Right. What was supposed to be a simple, short, smutty one shot, escalated into this. Do I have regrets? Yeah - a lot of them. Am I still posting this? Absolutely. I blame @legacygirlingreen for enabling me, but I also thank her for the endless support she's given me throughout. M; you are the best 💚

To everyone else reading this; I have never written 'x Reader' before, so please give me some grace for trying 🙏🏻

FYI: (Y/N) - Your Name (Y/L/N) - Your Last Name (Y/E/C) - Your Eye Colour (Y/H/C) - Your Hair Colour

CW (here we go): Fluff, Romance, Idiots in Love, Miscommunication, Pining, Age Difference (Aged up Main Character), Canon Divergence (bc I can't stand to kill Fig off), Spoiler Alert for Hogwarts Legacy, Implied Hufflepuff MC (not specified), Porn with Plot, Smut (18+, MDNI) - for part 2 (lord, forgive me): Loss of Virginity, Breeding Kink, Impregnation, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Size Kink

Word Count (Part 1): 16k (yes - this escalated)

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48482581/chapters/122292907

Aesop Sharp was sure that he must have eradicated an entire civilisation in his past life.

There was simply no other explanation for the sheer torture he continuously found himself in.

He thought Scarborough Harbour and the curse in his leg might have been penance - the pain and guilt certainly served as a constant reminder of his misdeeds in this life, as if he could ever forget about them in the first place. His partner, his best friend, had died because of an oversight in judgement (one he had made), and the woman he thought he was going to marry ended things as soon as it became clear that he would be crippled for life.

Losing his job (one he had tirelessly worked for his entire youth) was simply the cherry on top.

He supposed he was lucky when he ended up in Hogwarts, of all places. Although he had never been one to stick to the rules in his time as a schoolboy, Aesop was a surprisingly studious pupil (he had to be if he truly wanted to become an Auror) and loved the school nonetheless. Potions was among his best subjects, right after Defence Against the Dark Arts, and even if it hadn't been his dream career, he liked it fine. It was certainly far more engaging than being confined behind a desk at the Ministry, looking at applications and deciding which hot-headed and possibly egotistical graduate he would send into the field, perhaps even subjecting them to a fate like his own (or worse).

His second career came with quite a few benefits, too, such as free room and board, fantastic meals (Aesop loathed cooking) and unlimited access to the Restricted Section - a place he had searched relentlessly for a cure or at least a treatment better to the one he currently received. And he could look out for his students, the Aurors of tomorrow, too. He might have been the reason his partner had died, and he might never be able to make that right. But, at the very least, he could ensure that his students would not make the same mistakes he did, lest saving them from the regret and suffering he endured daily. Some of them were brighter than others, of course. He didn't think himself to be horridly unfair. Strict, yes. He had to be; potions were fickle things, after all. But certainly not unfair.

If anything, Aesop would've described himself as quite reasonable most times.

There were, of course, students he had to be particularly strict with. Students such as Garreth Weasley.

The boy had been a royal pain in Aesop's arse from the second those ginger locks appeared in his classroom in the Autumn of 1885, and he continued to be one up until his graduation. Garreth Weasley wasn't stupid - far from it. He was actually quite brilliant if he tried to apply himself, which was rarely the case, but it had (much to Aesop's chagrin) been enough to qualify him for the NEWT level class. Matilda had apologised over and over, though as the years passed, the apologies always seemed to be accompanied by a small grin, possibly because Garreth's...creative...concoctions in school relieved the Weasley Household of their unfortunate duty of having to try them.

Other students were even less forgettable - although for entirely different reasons.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N) had been an enigma from the moment she timidly trailed behind their illustrious Headmaster into the Great Hall, late, looking as pale as a ghost. Scrap that. The girl had been an enigma from the second the Book of Admittance spat out her name - four years too late. Suddenly the teachers had found themselves in the precarious situation of what to do with a fifteen-year-old who had no prior understanding of magic but was to start at Hogwarts mere four months later. Eventually, their colleague Eleazar Fig had been sent to tutor the poor girl to at least try to get her up to speed, but Aesop would have been the first to admit that he did not have high hopes. He was pleasantly surprised when the girl was incredibly adept at magic. She had bested other top students on her first day, not to mention taken down a troll in Hogsmeade, and she was nothing short of talented at potions too. He remembered her first lesson vividly; she had brewed a perfect Wiggenweld and a perfect Edurus.

Miss (Y/L/N) continued to be an exemplary student, both inside and outside of the potions classroom. Any (extra) assignments had always been handed in on time, she picked up spells like magic was second nature to her, and she was overall an absolute joy to be around. Her peers likely would have said the same. Various rumours followed her, and though most of them were concerning, Aesop did not think that a new student (no matter how talented) would actually be taking down entire Poacher and Goblin camps. He had suspected that her heroic escape from the dragon and her Hogsmeade adventure let some students become a little too imaginative. How wrong he had been.

Aesop still remembered the February afternoon it all came crashing down. Eleazar Fig had stormed into the teacher's room after summoning them with a note that said the matter was of 'utmost importance' and no matter how many years Aesop had spent in the field, nothing would have prepared him for the reality of what he was about to be faced with. Not only had the girl, in fact, taken down Poacher Camps. No. She had been fighting an entire Goblin Rebellion, taken down both Theophilus Harlow and various operations of Victor Rookwood and (as if that hadn't been enough) she apparently wielded Ancient Magic, completed a set of trials that were meant to lead her to some grand mystery the rebellion leader - Ranrok - was also after and was now preparing to take said Goblin down. If the situation hadn't been so dire, Aesop was sure that Matilda Weasley would have chewed Eleazar Fig apart right then and there for his carelessness in hiding something like this. But when the teachers apparated into the caverns below Hogwarts, they didn't have time to dwell on any of it.

By some miracle, the young witch had done it. She had saved the entire school though it had almost come at the expense of her life.

When he, Matilda, Dinah, Abraham and Mudiwa finally had taken care of the last of the goblins that had invaded the caverns, they descended further into them, only to discover what could be described as an utter wasteland, complete with a peculiar gigantic orb of magic, a gravely wounded and distraught Professor Fig and an unconscious, heavily bleeding (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

When the young girl awoke in the Hospital Wing nearly two weeks later, she awoke a hero.

Aesop could tell she was insanely uncomfortable. She was not someone who was looking for glory or people to sing her praises. She was just a girl who had done what had been asked of her, even if the task she had fulfilled should never have been hers to begin with. She passed her O.W.L.'s with flying colours (of course she had), and thankfully, after an extensive summer break, her life had calmed down significantly. She was able to spend her remaining two years at Hogwarts in peace, having fun with her friends and enjoying her classes. Nobody had been more proud of her than Eleazar himself when she graduated at the top of her class (right next to Amit Thakkar) three years ago.

That had been the last time Aesop had seen her.

He knew from Eleazar (who had pretty much turned into the girl's father) that she had been travelling the world with Poppy Sweeting, one of her closest friends from Hogwarts, to study various beasts and plants - A waste of talent if Aesop had ever seen any. With her skill set and her stellar grades, she would've done phenomenally in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but somehow he understood her desire to live a more peaceful life. If anything, he was somehow glad that she wasn't out there risking her life continually to save others. She had saved Wizardkind once. Now it was somebody else's turn.

When Bai Howin, their resident Care of Magical Creatures Professor, announced her plans to retire last year, Aesop didn't think that (Y/N) (Y/L/N) would be the one taking over. She was just twenty (or perhaps twenty-one? He wasn't sure) and didn't seem like the type to enjoy teaching.

But there she was in front of him, and he was sure that this was another way of punishing him.

She had never been ugly. In fact, from what he remembered, (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was quite the sight to behold. She certainly had no shortage of admirers during her time, even if he couldn't recall her courting anyone specifically. But the woman in front of him? She was downright ethereal.

Her long (Y/H/C) cascaded down her small shoulders and framed her small, heart-shaped face. Her lips were fuller and deliciously pink, stretched into a warm and bright smile that lit up her doe-like (Y/E/C) eyes with almost childish excitement. She was positively tiny; he easily towered over her, but Merlin was she beautiful.

"Everyone, I am most pleased to welcome our newest addition to the staff. (Y/N) (Y/L/N) will be filling Bai's position the coming school year," Matilda announced with an equally bright smile at the staff's annual pre-term meeting on the 25th of August. From the corner of his eye, Aesop could see the proud smile Eleazar wore.

"Miss (Y/L/N)!" Abraham cheered, "How delightful to welcome you back to Hogwarts!" "Thank you, Professor Ronen," she smiled earnestly, "I'm so happy to be back." "Oh please," the jovial Slytherin jumped up, "It's Abraham now. We're colleagues, after all, are we not?"

Aesop was sure he had never heard a giggle as heart-warming as hers. He scoffed internally. He wasn't some schoolboy with a silly crush. Get over yourself, Aesop!

"Very well then, Abraham," her eyes twinkling, "I'm (Y/N)."

Aesop observed as the rest of the staff gathered around her, welcoming her back with just as much delight as Abraham and Matilda had done, and her smile only seemed to grow bigger. With a sigh, he got up himself and limped towards the group, his usual stern expression not giving a single hint as to what he was truly feeling.

"Miss (Y/L/N)," he gruffly said as he came to a stop before her, "How nice to see you again."

He did not think it possible for her smile to grow any bigger (seriously, her face must have hurt), but it did as her eyes took him in.

"Professor Sharp!" (Y/N) chirped happily, "It's nice to see you again."

He didn't know this, but he had been her favourite teacher throughout her short time at Hogwarts; his stern and keenly aware nature was calming to be around, and his classes were always interesting. There had been a time when she considered becoming a professional potioneer, but when the opportunity came up to study Beasts with Poppy, she simply couldn't say no. She had only been a witch for three years and barely knew what the Wizarding World had to offer. It was only natural that she wanted to go out and explore the world as she could honestly always choose a career a little later in life. When Eleazar had reached out to her a couple of months back to tell her that a position was opening up, she couldn't help but apply, and when Matilda (and Black) hired her, she was over the moon.

"As Abraham has said," Aesop cleared his throat, "We are colleagues now. You can call me Aesop."

"I look forward to working with you, Aesop," (Y/N) nodded, her cheeks tinted pink as she quickly averted her gaze and struck up a conversation with Dinah instead.

Aesop barely saw her until the following week. All of them were busy preparing their lessons and classrooms, and he spent most of his days brewing to replenish his and the Hospital Wings potion supply. Given that she lived in the small hut on the grounds, he didn't really see her around the castle either, but she continued to be on his mind nonetheless. It was a pity, really. He had wondered how she had fared over the past three years and why exactly she had returned. It was unusual for witches and wizards her age to return to Hogwarts to teach of all things, but then again, she's been hardly usual in the first place. Aesop knew that Y/N would be one of his more familiar coworkers - Bai had supplied him with by-products of caring for the beasts, and he supposed (or rather hoped) that her successor would do the same. If anything, it made brewing that much cheaper when he didn't have to hop into Hogsmeade and pester and negotiate with Parry Pippin or Ellie Peck (their prices were quite atrocious at times).

So when he was finishing up brewing some standard potions on the 1st of September and realised he was out of Unicorn Horn, Aesop decided that now was a good time as any to make the small trek towards the Beasts Classroom and hope that Y/N would somehow have some on hand. It was still early, and the weather was nice, sunny and warm, which helped Aesop's blasted leg tremendously. He knew the colder winter months would aggravate his leg further, but at least for now, he could enjoy his walk to the best of his abilities.

He spotted her before she spotted him.

She was outside in one of the pens, brushing and petting the Kneazles that would surely serve as a lesson in the coming days, looking absolutely content. The sun was shining down on her, illuminating her skin and hair, which, unlike last time, was in an elaborate and fashionable updo which framed her face artfully.

He stopped in front of the pen gates, simply observing the young woman who was entirely oblivious to his arrival. (Y/N) giggled happily as the Kneazles danced around her, desperate for her attention and happily purring whenever she offered them some. One of the older Kneazles cuddled up to her leg, flopping on its back and almost chirping, trying to get her attention.

"Now, now, Persephone," she chided as she turned her attention towards the needy Kneazle, "you've gotten plenty already. Leave some for the others."

"I don't think they understand you," Aesop interrupted her, and he chuckled when she jumped and turned around with a bewildered expression.

"How long have you been standing there?" she asked, her tone accusing.

"Just a few minutes," he answered with a shrug.

"Hmph."

He watched as she stood up, slowly rising from the dirt and dusting off her skirts. Her glare was accusing as she exited the pens, the Kneazles yapping.

"For the record, they are incredibly wise. They certainly do understand me."

"Alright," he held up his hands in surrender, "I am not here to fight you on your Kneazles anyway." He hadn't known that she was overprotective, though if he remembered correctly, Miss Sweeting had been too. Perhaps he should have figured that the Hufflepuff would rub off on her.

"Is there anything I can help you with, Profe-," she stopped herself, clearing her throat, "I mean Aesop."

Aesop... He liked the way his name sounded from her lips. It sounded almost like a reverent prayer.

He quickly cleared his throat himself, shaking his head to clear his thoughts before answering her.

"I was hoping you might have some spare Unicorn Horn? Bai usually provided me with by-products of her care, and I was rather hoping you would continue to offer."

"Oh," she blushed, "Yes, of course. Come. I have some inside."

As he followed her, he inevitably noticed how small the girl was. Even with his limp, he was no more than one step behind her - a highly unusual occurrence.

What had been previously Bai's hut was now completely unrecognisable (not that he had been in there all too often). The rooms were previously quite barren, save for the few personal artefacts and curiosities. A bed, a desk, a closet... Nothing to write home about. Now, though, Aesop had stepped into what felt like an actual home.

The floor was now covered by plush and comforting carpets, which would surely provide additional warmth during the winter months. The walls were warm wood in some places, though covered by paintings and illustrations in others. The beehive fireplace in the corner held the remains of a slow flickering fire, and the eclectic pieces that littered the home did not match one another but were harmonious just the same. One of the armchairs in front of the fire looked worn and old, the other rather contemporary and the shelves to his right reminded him of some modern Parisian styles he had seen some time ago. Various artefacts and trinkets were scattered across the room; some Aesop recognised, others he absolutely didn't. A Potions Station was bubbling away to his left, a small stove with a stray kettle beside it. The entire hut smelled like fresh pastries and freshly pressed linen - comforting and homey just the same.

"Whatever do you need a potions station for?" he asked as she fluttered around the room.

"Oh, that," she answered him. "Call it a force of habit or simply a pastime. I used to brew a lot back in school, and I was mostly responsible for any concoctions when Poppy and I travelled. I suppose I haven't lived that down."

Intrigued, he stepped up to the cauldron, trying to define the mixture by its smell and looks.

"Bruisewort Balm," he concluded quickly, "Looks very satisfactory." The jump back into 'Professor Persona' was one that he had been all too used to, even if it had been around his newest colleague.

(Y/N), however, blushed profusely. Potions had been her favourite class during her short time at Hogwarts, and Sharp's praise would always be special. His had to be earned (rightfully so), and that simply made it all the more satisfying. To hear him praise her years later made her chest fill with pride.

"I learned from the best," she offered, handing him a box which contained some Horns. "Antidote to Common Poisons, or did Madam Blainey run out of Blood Replenishing Potions?"

Surprised, Aesop raised an eyebrow as he took the box from her hands. He hadn't expected her to be able to recall such information, even if it had been relevant in her NEWT exams once.

"Antidote to Common Poisons," he confirmed, eyeing her beaming smile as his heart skipped a beat. Had her smile always been this pretty?

"And you have everything else you need?" she offered, "I think I might have some Bezoars lying around in case you're out of them."

"No, I have everything else," he grumbled, "I know you were a decent potioneer, but I must say I am surprised to hear you have retained that much information."

"Decent?" she sounded affronted, "Wasn't I top of the class by the time I graduated?"

"Perhaps." His grin was teasing; he enjoyed getting a rise out of her. "But even so, recalling ingredients is impressive. It has been a while, hasn't it been?"

"You're awful," she puffed, crossing her arms in front of her like a petulant child. "And for the record, Potions was my favourite class. I even considered becoming a Potioneer or a Healer once."

The words spilt from his mouth before he could stop himself. "And yet you decided to travel the world and study beasts? Enlighten me, Miss (Y/L/N)?"

She bit her lip, causing a jolt of... something... coursing through him as she shrugged.

"I supposed I had wanted to see the world. And I like Beasts; I hardly would've agreed to teach if I didn't. Before I was a witch, I was expected to be a wife. My sole purpose lay in providing children for my betrothed. When I suddenly had the freedom to decide what I wished to do, it was both overwhelming and exciting, and to see more of a world which was so foreign to me seemed like a grand idea at the time." She chuckled absentmindedly. "I apologise for rambling. I shall let you get back to preparing whatever it is you need to prepare."

"Oh, not at all," Aesop shook his head. "You are betrothed?"

"I was. My parents were rather well off and paired me with a suitor they deemed worthy. When I came to Hogwarts, they..." she shuddered, remembering the final conversation she had had with them. "Let us just say that they weren't...eager to have their only daughter in a co-educational environment outside of their ascendancy."

Merlin, suddenly Aesop wasn't surprised that Eleazar had taken the girl home after the events of her fifth year. She clearly did not have another one to return to. Aesop knew that, much like their pureblooded counterparts, muggles arranged marriages between their children in order to secure the most advantageous match possible. He also knew that muggles were even more traditional than wizards, though it surprised him to hear that a co-educational environment such as Hogwarts was deemed inappropriate enough to ruin a young woman's reputation. Most witches, especially those from better backgrounds (magical or not), held on to their maidenhood until marriage, much like muggle women did. Laying with a man who was not your husband was as inappropriate in the Wizarding World as it was in Muggle London, though, in all fairness, most Wizards (especially purebloods like Aesop himself) hardly ever followed that rule - nor were they expected to. And either way, Hogwarts itself had various... safety measures in place to ensure no such encounters would happen.

Aesop found it doubtful that nobody would have been able to appease her family's concerns, though, at any rate, he supposed she was right. It left her able to make her own choice - something she deserved, especially after saving both the school and Wizardkind. Suddenly her decision made all the more sense, and he found himself almost pitying her circumstances.

"I'm sorry," he offered, though he knew it would scarcely be a consolation.

"Don't be," she smiled sadly, "I am lucky to have Eleazar. He's been more of a father to me than mine had ever been. And whilst I would have loved to have a family and a husband by now, I cannot lie and say that travelling the world with my best friend hasn't been worth the sacrifice."

If Aesop ever had any concerns if she was suitable to teach, they had been laid to rest within the first two weeks, for whoever he listened to would say the same: that she was utterly brilliant.

Care of Magical Creatures class had always been decently popular among students - it was certainly more popular than Magical Theory or Alchemy, but ever since the one and only Hero of Hogwarts had started to lecture the class, its popularity had all but exploded amongst the students. They seemed more engaged than ever, and the fourth-year class he taught directly after her class was always in high spirits. Matilda had to refuse several students the luxury of adding Care of Magical Creatures to their curriculum, and if Aesop had to overhear another bulk of male students lusting after Miss (Y/L/N), he would rip off his own ears.

Sure, she was beautiful. Very beautiful, in fact. And smart. And kind. And funny. He had noticed that himself (any man with two functioning eyes would), but Merlin was it infuriating to hear constantly.

(Y/N) had her seat next to him in the Great Hall, and surprisingly they ate their meals at similar enough times, causing them to exchange pleasantries often enough over breakfast or dinner. She was as cheerful as he remembered and did most of the talking, but it was comfortable.

She often shared tidbits and stories from her many travels, the beasts she encountered or the people she met.

"Japan was the most interesting, really. Though one day, Poppy and I wanted to bathe in a local pond and nearly got eaten by a Kappa."

Aesop had nearly spat out his drink.

"A Kappa?" he asked, "The water-dwellers that look like scaly monkeys, with webbed hands itching to strangle unwitting waders in their ponds? Those Kappas?"

"Yes!" she grinned at him cheerfully before she took another bite of her scone. "Quite fascinating creature, really. Luckily we had a cucumber on hand. Did you know that they prefer those to human blood?"

"I...did not," Aesop shook his head, his eyes comically wide as he watched her devour her scone with such gusto and nonchalance - as if she hadn't nearly recounted yet another story of how she almost died. Someone desperately needed to teach her a sense of self-preservation.

She had many stories like that. Too many, if one were to ask Aesop. Suddenly he ceased thinking that she could have been a good Auror - she would have been blown up within weeks if her recklessness was anything to go by. In hindsight, it added up; no fully sane fifteen-year-old would willingly jump into battle over and over again, even if they had essentially been the sole witch able to save the day. Then again, she wasn't fifteen anymore.

Four weeks after the school year had started, Dinah and Abraham had the wonderfully stupid idea to commemorate (Y/N)'s arrival as a professor officially with a soirée an opportunity for most of them to get drunk off their asses. It was something of a tradition, one that even Aesop couldn't escape when he first started teaching, and Dinah, the absolute menace she was, usually ensured that at least half of the participants would nurse a hangover the next day. The bloody woman could hold her drink; Aesop would give her that much - he doubted (Y/N) could do the same. Sirona was all too happy to open up the small space upstairs of the Three Broomsticks, which teachers usually occupied throughout the school year so awkward encounters could be avoided.

So when the first Saturday of October had rolled around, their newest addition to the staff was all but ambushed and dragged to the Three Broomsticks, and Aesop had to confess that her helpless gaze was worth the tedious walk to the pub.

"What exactly-" "No questions," Dinah interrupted her before shoving a glass of firewhiskey into her small hands. "We are not letting you leave until you are drunk."

"Don't fight tradition," Eleazar grinned slyly at his protegé, "We've all been through this."

"You're evil," she pouted at him, the firewhiskey still in her hands.

"Yes, well," the older man shrugged, "Consider it a debt repaid after all the grey hairs you have caused me over the years."

"Excuse me?!" she gasped, but before she could continue, Dinah barked at her: "Drink up!"

Aesop could only watch with amusement as she nipped on the whiskey with a grimace, coughing as it went down. "It burns," she whined, trying to shove the whiskey back into Dinah's hands, but the former Unspeakable wouldn't have it.

"Get used to it."

It shouldn't have been a surprise to anyone really that she was drunk within record time. Aesop, much like Dinah and Eleazar, could hold his drink incredibly well, but it was always entertaining to see the rest of the staff utterly pissed.

Mudiwa and Satyavati were in a spirited discussion about their respective fields, neither wishing to meet the other eye to eye, and Aesop wouldn't have been surprised if the Ugandan native whipped out a crystal ball to smash it on Satyavati's head. Chiyo, Abraham, Matilda and Mirabel, on the other hand, were somewhere between singing and screaming an old drinking song Aesop did not recognise, though it frankly sounded horrible all the same.

"Honestly, Eleazar. I would have expected you to teach her how to hold her drink," Dinah grinned as she pointed at the slumped-over figure in front of the fireplace.

"She can hold her drink," Eleazar countered with a sneer. "You are simply a menace. How many of those did you give her?"

"Oh, not too many," Dinah grinned, taking another swig of her firewhiskey. "Eight, perhaps?"

"Eight?! Are you trying to kill her?!" Aesop chuckled. "Merlin Dinah, even I can tell she's a lightweight."

"She'll live," the woman waved her hand dismissively. "You should take her back to her hut, though."

"Me?!" Aesop asked incredulously, nearly spilling the remains of his drink in surprise. Eleazar had the same bewildered expression on his face, his eyebrow raised in question.

"Yes, you," Dinah rolled her eyes, "You think I miss the looks you two dunderheads share?"

Aesop's heart felt like it was beating out of his chest for a second, his mind completely blank as he took in his friend's words. His face must have given away his utter bewilderment because Dinah only groaned in exasperation. Damn her and her perceptiveness!

"Dinah, I have no idea what you are-" "Oh, quit it!" she interrupted him as fiercely as she had interrupted (Y/N) a while back. "I haven't seen your grumpy arse smile as much as you have during meal times in all my years of knowing you. And the reason for that is seated right next to you."

"She's just a good conversationalist!" Aesop protested, affronted that Dinah would even think he fancied his former student of all people.

"Good conversationalist, my ass," she snorted before shaking her head. "Take her home, Romeo. That's an order. "

Her tone left little to no room for argument (she was insanely good at that), and so Aesop found himself limping and straggling along the darkened path back to Hogwarts, thanking Merlin that no student was wandering about to see a wasted Professor (Y/N) slumped in his arms. She was thankfully rather light, considering that the colder weather was slowly creeping in. Aesop's cursed limp began hurting as it usually did during the winter months, so he was in no position to lift anything heavy.

She was rather close to him, nestled into his chest, though the top of her head just about reached a few inches below his shoulders. Typically, Aesop liked to keep people at arm's length, not one for physical contact, especially with people he hardly knew. But having her in his arms, of all people, was not only comfortable, but he also quickly realised he liked having her there. She was warm and small, fit perfectly into his side, and smelled divine.

He would have expected her to smell like the earth outside, given how much time she spent in Beast pens and caring for them, but instead, she smelled of fresh pastries and the sweetest fruits, a warm and homely scent that made him feel all ways of strange. He hadn't felt this way in a long, long time, but no matter what Dinah may have alluded to - it simply couldn't be.

"You think too much," a small, grumbling voice suddenly pulled him from his thoughts.

"Excuse me?"

"You're excused," she mumbled, pressing herself further into him before falling silent once more.

He thought too much? Aesop wondered what she meant by that. But he enjoyed the remaining walk in silence, understanding that she was far too inebriated to have an actual conversation anyways. She was half-asleep by the time they had reached her hut, so he carefully helped her onto the bed, wondering if he should at least help her take off her boots, but she was asleep before he could ask. So instead, Aesop placed a blanket over her softly snoring form before he limped outside and begrudgingly took the floo flames to the Faculty Tower.

Aesop wasn't surprised when she didn't show up for breakfast the following day, but breakfast did seem a little duller than it usually had been. He kept the affair short before he retreated to his quarters, deciding to catch up on some essays and potion quizzes, which would inevitably frustrate him but putting it off would only mean delaying the inevitable. Some of his students would make brilliant potioneers, but most of them were hopeless cases, unfortunately. Sometime in the early afternoon, a knock pulled him from his frustrating work, and he was surprised to find a sheepish and embarrassed-looking (Y/N) at his doorstep. She looked tired, her face a little more worn than usual, and her hair seemed mildly matted and disorderly, but realistically, she nursed a fat hangover. All things considered, she still looked pretty.

"(Y/N)," he acknowledged with a curt nod.

"I uhm," she shuffled her feet awkwardly, her face downcast and her cheeks adorably red. "I wanted to thank you," she said after a while.

"Thank me?" Aesop raised his eyebrow.

"Yes, uhm," she cleared her throat, raising her face to look back at him. "Thank you for helping me back to my hut. You didn't have to."

"Dinah was remarkably insistent that I do," Aesop blurted out before he could stop himself. A flash of hurt crossed her face, but it was gone within a second, her smile strangely contorted, and Aesop wondered if he had said something wrong.

"Well, either way. You got me back, and that's what matters, I suppose."

The two stood there for a while, staring at each other like fools, before she suddenly jumped and pulled at her satchel. "I made you some biscuits," she rambled, pulling out a small bag that emitted an enticing sugary smell. Aesop wasn't fond of biscuits, but the aroma of these was absolutely mouth-watering, so he gladly accepted. Maybe it was because the smell reminded him of her.

"Would you like to come in?" he offered, stepping aside and inviting her inside his quarters.

"Are you sure that's appropriate?" her tone hesitant as she stood her ground in front of the door.

"Why wouldn't it be?" his tone equal amounts curious and disturbed. Did she think he wanted to dishonour her?

"Nevermind," she shook her head before wordlessly accepting his invitation and stepping inside.

Even if she had been a part of the Wizarding World for nearly half a decade now, the rigorous societal standards she had been raised with for a majority of her life had stuck with her, and if someone from her old life had seen her step into a man's room, unaccompanied, her reputation would have been ruined. She had realised that the Wizarding World was far more relaxed than Muggle London fairly quickly when she had been allowed to be accompanied to Hogsmeade her first week by Sebastian Sallow - an event which never would have taken place without a chaperone in her old home. And whilst the concept of courting and preserving one's honour was the proper way in the Wizarding World as well, one was certainly not watched like a hawk every second of the day until marriage.

His quarters had been just like she remembered them; a little disorderly, muted in colour and sparse in decor. Tons of cauldrons stood against the walls, but his big windows let in ample amounts of sunshine. The smell of firewhiskey and the crackling fire permeated the air, though his unique scent also clung to it. It was comforting but hardly a home. Two leather armchairs stood in front of the fireplace, and his desk looked to be brimming with graded essays.

"Would you like some tea?" Aesop asked her, clearing his throat and effectively pulling her out of her daydreaming and wandering gaze. He usually didn't have guests over, much less pretty female ones.

"Oh yes. That would be lovely," she smiled gratefully. He only motioned for her to sit down as he prepared two cups of steaming Earl Grey, adding a bit of milk to hers (that's how she always drank it).

She thanked him with a bashful smile as he handed her the cup before he eventually sank down in the armchair opposite hers, nursing his own teacup in relative silence before he teasingly asked her: "So how are you feeling?"

"I can't believe you drink that nasty stuff willingly."

"It takes quite a connoisseur to appreciate Firewhiskey," Aesop grinned.

"I think I might prefer the occasional glass of mead," she pulled a face before taking a sip of her tea and sighing in relief. "In any case, I'm not touching alcohol for a good while."

"I didn't expect you to," he chuckled before sighing and stretching his leg. It had started to bother him a little more throughout the afternoon, which was not an unusual occurrence, especially given the events of yesterday. A little massage, his pain relief potion and perhaps even a warm bath and firewhiskey would make it bearable.

"Does it hurt more than usual?" she asked him boldly, her gaze fixated upon his leg as he shifted to find a more comfortable position.

"No," he grit out between his teeth. "This is usual given the weather and circumstances."

"I'm sorry," she meekly offered, her mind wandering off a little.

"I don't need your pity," Aesop spat out in a lapse of judgement, his gaze venomous. She flinched, just barely so, but it was enough for it to tear at his heartstrings and apologise immediately.

"It's alright," she sighed. "I was just...what remedies have you tried? I remember you telling me that you looked in the Hogwarts library, but..."

"That was five years ago," Aesop conceded. "I'm sure I have read every possible book in there by now."

"Perhaps I could ask Poppy to have a look?" (Y/N) offered him. "She is still travelling, and we came across quite a few treatments and fauna that we hadn't previously known..."

"I cannot, in good conscience, ask that of you."

"You're not asking. I'm offering."

Aesop thought for a second, but her offer was generous. He was slowly losing hope, as the Hogwarts Library didn't offer a cure, so perhaps it was time to start looking elsewhere.

"That would be very kind," he conceded, his voice stuck in his throat for a second.

Her smile was brighter than the sun itself, and Aesop's heart jumped erratically. It truly was beautiful.

They fell into a routine after that.

As promised, she had written to Poppy as soon as possible, asking her to keep an eye out for strange flora, beast products or books on curses and foreign potions. She had even secretly reached out to Sebastian, who was working as a Curse Breaker and stumbled upon more of them than she and Sharp combined could name; even if he didn't know a counter curse for Sharp's predicament, it was useful to keep tabs on it.

Whenever Poppy sent a small parcel, she would run to Aesop's room or the potions classroom just so she could share what may be a breakthrough in his research. And whilst nothing looked like a cure, the most recent batch of ingredients from East Asia had, at the very least, supplied Aesop with greater pain relief than usual.

"Hō-ō feathers and," she coughed violently, her face twisting in disgust. "Did Poppy send you Mimbulus Mimbletonia? This smells awfully rancid."

"She did indeed," Aesop confirmed, his face passive as he carefully stirred the potion before him. He was immensely grateful that Poppy had made due on her promise to send ingredients their way - ones that were either exceptionally difficult or downright impossible to get in England. That said, the Mimbulus Mimbletonia did smell awful, and it took quite a bit of willpower to not let his disgust show. He was surprised that the lovely woman sat in his potions classroom, just a little to the left of him, recognised the ingredients as quickly as she had, but the more time he spent with her, the more he had to acknowledge that she was smart beyond her years.

"I hated those whenever we came across them," she told him with a smile.

"Yes, well. Let's hope they're useful beyond repelling unsuspecting witches."

"Who said anything about repelling us?" Aesop could feel her smirk before he saw it. "We still wanted to see the Bowtruckles."

"Bowtruckles," Aesop shook his head in exasperation. "Of course."

Aesop was used to brewing on his own, usually secluded in his room, perhaps accompanied by a glass of firewhiskey and a melody from his gramophone. Unfortunately for him, he found that brewing in a certain witches' company was much more engaging, so much so that he began looking forward to spending time with her whenever the week seemed to pass him by a little too slowly for comfort. Most of their free days, however, they spent together in either of their quarters, drinking tea, sometimes playing Wizard's Chess, though usually, they graded their respective papers in comfortable silence. Some days Sharp listened to her stories, and on the very rare occasion, she listened to his.

"So you actually sent people to Azkaban before?" she asked with a shudder, her face a little pale.

"If I recall correctly, it was you who ensured Theophilus Harlow ended up there, too," Aesop countered.

"Technically, that was a group effort," she countered. "Natty was the one who tracked him down. I only duelled him."

"At fifteen?"

"I may have been sixteen. But I am not certain."

Aesop groaned at her carelessness and utter disregard for safety or rules. She was lucky he hadn't been her mentor during her days at the school. Eleazar might have even enabled her antics - he would have locked her up inside the castle walls.

"Either way. What kind of people did you send to Azkaban?"

"Reprobates? Dark Wizards?" Aesop answered her as if that had been the most obvious thing in the entire world.

"Obviously," she rolled her eyes, a teasing smile on her lips.

"Right. One time my partner and I helped cease the operations of an illegal freak show. The woman who ran the whole thing imprisoned and trafficked multiple of her 'curiosities'. Assaulted quite a few herself."

"And she ended up in Azkaban?"

"Yes," Aesop confirmed, "Died there too."

"Ugh," she pulled a sorrowful face, "What an awful place to die. So cold and frightening."

Aesop's eyebrows shot up in question at that.

"And pray tell how do you know what the inside of Azkaban is like?"

"That, my dear Aesop," she grinned at him, "Is a story for another time."

When he found out that Helen Thistlewood had essentially dragged her to Azkaban and she had consequently solved a cold case, he didn't know whether to scream or cry or laugh or perhaps all together. Of course, she fucking had.

The weeks continued like that, and Aesop found that the days he spent with her were days very well spent. His mood usually improved drastically, perhaps to the point where even his students could tell. What was worse, though, was that his colleagues, the nosy little bastards, could tell too. So in hindsight, it likely shouldn't have surprised him when both Dinah and Eleazar suddenly had "endless amounts of essays to grade", and both Aesop and (Y/N) found themselves patrolling the Defence Against the Dark Arts Tower on a late November night.

"I have to say, walking these halls after curfew isn't nearly as fun when you're a Professor," (Y/N) broke the silence after a while.

"And how often did you break curfew, Miss (Y/L/N)?"

"I am friends with Sebastian Sallow," she countered, "You take a guess."

"I forgot how much trouble that boy was," Aesop groaned.

Of course, he remembered. Aside from the horrors that used to be Solomon Sallow (who had died under incredibly conspicuous circumstances a few years back), his nephew had been quite the pain in Aesop's arse too. Sebastian and Anne Sallow were both exceedingly mischievous, pulling many (albeit harmless) pranks on their fellow students, breaking curfew, and Aesop had to brew hair regrowth potion on more than one occasion after they had illegally attempted fire spells on their own. The shenanigans did not stop after Miss Sallow had been cursed; if anything, they had continued with newfound vigour, and Sebastian was routinely caught in the Restricted Section. He had calmed down a little when (Y/N) had come to the school, and his sour mood had improved significantly. At one point, Aesop had thought that the two were courting, but the lovely woman next to him quickly assured him that there had never been any such feelings between them. It seemed like she simply had that effect on people.

"Oh, come on!" she whined cutely. "Don't tell me you've never broken curfew."

"Me? Never. I was the very picture of orderly conduct at Hogwarts."

The witch next to him only snorted. "I find that hard to believe."

"And you would be correct," Aesop jested, a wolfish grin on his face. He had broken countless rules during his time (though certainly not as many as she had), but unlike the Sallow boy, he had been smart enough to not get caught. At least not as frequently.

"I kne-" her words were cut off as she suddenly slipped at the top of the stairs, her feet just a little too close to the edge.

Aesop hastily steadied himself, wrapping his arms around her middle and pulling her into him ignoring her cries of surprise. She held onto the lapel of his coat, staring into his dark brown eyes with her wide ones, her cheeks suddenly a little more rosy as they tumbled a little. Aesop's eyes traced over her face, from the long lashes to the soft curve of her slightly open lips. His treacherous heart sped up the more he got lost in her captivating eyes, the very window to her soul, and all he wanted to do was dive in. Suddenly having her close didn't seem like it was enough - he wanted to be absorbed in her cosmos until he had unravelled each and every mystery it held, but before he could, his mind kicked into overdrive, and he pulled her away from the ledge.

"Are you alright?" he questioned breathlessly.

"Yes," she nearly squeaked, abruptly removing her hands as if he had burned her, avoiding his gaze as she took a steadying breath. "I'm fine."

He wanted, needed, to say something else. To reach out to her and pull her back into his arms, but before he could, she turned away to resume their nightly patrol, refusing to meet his eye again.

Things were oddly different after that night - and Aesop did not know why.

It was downright infuriating, especially since she liked to act as if nothing was amiss, but did she genuinely think she could fool a former Auror, of all people? Aesop might have left the field a decade ago, but he, all puns intended, was as sharp as ever.

She still sat beside him during meal times, but her stories became less and less until they eventually ceased altogether.

She still came to his quarters, though the visits became scarce until she muttered a pitiful excuse of "lots of grading to do" as if they hadn't done that together over the course of the term. And if ever he turned up on her doorstep, she usually had an excuse too or ensured their time together was as brief as possible.

And while she still kept bringing him the exotic ingredients Poppy sent her way, she typically delivered them by owl, which riled Aesop up so much that he hadn't even wanted to try and brew any possible cure in quite some time.

And worst of all? He didn't even understand why her sudden indifference suddenly infuriated him so much. She was a good friend - yes a very good one indeed. She was an exceptional conversationalist - also, yes. And she was breathtakingly beauti - Aesop stopped himself in an instant. Absolutely not.

He sighed in frustration, ignoring the curious stares of his fourth-year students as they, per usual, royally fucked up another potion. He didn't even recall what he had them brew, his mind a little too occupied with something - or rather someone - else. It was a loud 'BANG' that suddenly drew him from his thoughts, a colourful explosion from the back of the classroom that shone in a cacophony of various shades entering his field of vision. A sheepish Elizabeth Larson, younger sister of Andrew Larson and what Aesop wholeheartedly believed to be Garreth Weasley's spiritual successor, stood right next to the exploded cauldron, a tactless grin on her face as she ignored the dregs of whatever potion she had 'creatively enhanced' at her feet. She wasn't sorry; students like Garreth and her never were. If anything, they were only sorry that their concoction had failed and they had been caught. Furiously, Aesop rose to his feet, his leg aggravated and his mood so sour a lemon likely would have been sweet. The mess had been cleared up with a quick wave of his wand, but his fury hadn't dissipated in the slightest.

"Miss Larson," Aesop barked angrily as he stalked towards the back of the room, his glare pointed enough to explode another cauldron if he tried. "This is the seventh time you have acted outside of instruction. One would think your boneheadedness knows some bounds, but clearly, it does not." His tone was unusually cruel, the surprise of which evident on Elizabeth Larson's face as, while he was stern, he never insulted his students. "Fifty points from Gryffindor, and I want to see you for detention every day the following week!"

"But Sir, I-" the poor girl tried to protest feebly, her voice small, and if Aesop hadn't been as angry as he had been, he likely would've seen actual regret and tears in her eyes.

"No. I am done with your infantile deeds, Miss Larson. Either you learn to respect this class and its rules, or you can expect to not make the roster for any year after next year." He was positively seething.

"Yes, Sir," she dejectedly nodded, her shoulders slumped and gaze downcast.

Aesop huffed, turning to the rest of the class, ready to dismiss them early, as he frankly did not have the resilience to endure much longer. "Uh, Sir?" a meek voice spoke into the otherwise deadly silent classroom.

"Yes, Mister Finnigan?" Aesop grunted.

"It's Christmas next week. We don't uhm...have school."

It's Christmas next week... Aesop grit his teeth as he took the boy's word in, clearly an attempt to get Miss Larson out of detention. Great, so he had teenage lovers in this class? Nobody would have been stupid enough to stand up to him otherwise.

"Then Miss Larson will serve her detention after the New Year. Now, I want your potions labelled on my desk within five minutes. And then get out of my classroom."

None of them needed any further instruction, hurriedly finishing up whatever work they had left to do before they all but fled the dungeons, Miss Larson surrounded by her friends in an effort to comfort. At least that's what Aesop supposed.

It's Christmas next week, the words repeated in Aesop's head as he cleaned up the classroom, thankful that the day was finally over and he wouldn't have to deal with the imbeciles he calls his students until the morrow. He perked up when he thought of it again. It's Christmas next week.

Of course! Between classes to be held, essays and tests to be graded and an infuriatingly witchy problem, Aesop had all but forgotten the festivities that rapidly approached them, but suddenly, they seemed to be the answer to his very problem. If she was angry with him, perhaps a gift could put him back into her good graces and even if she wasn't, giving her a gift seemed like a perfect opportunity to have her talk to him again.

Finding a gift, however, seemed to be just as infuriating as she was.

It was the day before Christmas, and Aesop still hadn't figured out the perfect gift to give her. Books, even if she enjoyed them greatly, seemed boring and downright unoriginal. Household items were pretentious, and he felt as if he was overstepping multiple boundaries by even thinking about it. And whilst he would have loved to have gotten her Jewellery, given that she recently rehabilitated a Niffler, he threw that option off the Astronomy tower. So what exactly was he supposed to get a witch that could end the world with her powers and one he had utterly fallen in love with? Asking her was out of the question, but he was slowly running out of time. Businesses would be closing sooner tomorrow and not open at all on the 25th, and his options were dwindling, none of them good enough for someone as exceptional as her. Aesop hated asking for help, but in fear of making an even bigger fool of himself, he trudged down the stairs of the Faculty Tower, striding up to the door of the one place where he might just acquire an answer.

"Aesop?" the surprise in Eleazar's voice was evident. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

"Good morning, Eleazar," Aesop cleared his throat, already regretting his decision to come. "I... require your help with a...rather delicate matter."

"Oh?" This was most unusual for him. Eleazar and Aesop rarely interacted on the basis of their job alone, though they did strike up friendly conversation when time allowed it. And, as Aesop painfully remembers, the man had asked for his help years ago when (Y/N) had battled an entire goblin rebellion on her own, and he had dismissed the idea of Ranrok working with Rookwood as 'inconceivable'. He wondered if he could've eased the weight on her shoulders if only he had listened.

"Would you like to come in?" Eleazar offered, stepping aside as he recognised the ex-Auror's discomfort at discussing whatever he needed to discuss out in the open. Aesop only nodded curtly, stepping inside the disorderly room littered with a million books, effectively turning it into more of a library than a personal home.

"So," the older man joined his hands in front of him. "What can I do for you, Aesop?"

"I need to purchase a present," he pressed out. "For (Y/N)."

Eleazar raised his eyebrow, taking in the usually stern Potions Master standing before him. But this man wasn't stern, nor was he anything like he usually had been. No, this man resembled a lovesick teenager, ashamed to ask a parent for advice no matter how innocent and if Aesop had blushed, it wouldn't have surprised Eleazar.

"For (Y/N)?" he repeated slowly, carefully gauging Aesop's reaction.

"Yes," the man confirmed, clearing his throat.

"It is Christmas tomorrow, and I wish to get her something nice. I thought since you knew her best, perhaps you could... offer some advice."

Merlin's Beard, Dinah had been correct. Eleazar could not believe it. He was wholeheartedly gobsmacked. Aesop Sharp was in love with his former protégé slash adopted daughter. He had already been curious when Dinah had insisted that Aesop be the one to take her home the night of her inaugural celebration, but even more so when the woman had insisted that both he and her forfeit their nightly patrol with some lame excuse so that (Y/N) and Aesop would have to do it instead. He had frankly laughed when Dinah explained that she was doing it because she couldn't stand the pining between the two 'oblivious fools' but Merlin - when (Y/N) and he shared tea just shortly after, and the girl had blushed like a madwoman when Eleazar teased her by revealing Dinah's plans he realised that the astute Professor had certainly been right about one thing; that (Y/N) was in love.

But to know Aesop was too? Brilliant.

"Of course," Eleazar repressed a chuckle, though he couldn't stop a sly grin forming on his face. "She is exceptionally fond of ballet. She used to see performances all the time, when she was a child in London."

Ballet? Aesop thought, surprised. Wherever would he get something related to a Muggle art form? Clenching his teeth, he found his answer quite quickly: Muggle London.

"Thank you," he breathed out between clenched teeth.

"Anytime," Eleazar chuckled as Aesop swiftly exited his quarters before he rushed to tell Dinah that she was correct once again.

Off to Muggle London, he went.

Aesop positively hated the Muggle parts of London. Not because he hated Muggles, Merlin he couldn't care less about them if he tried, but because the streets were too crowded and dirty and the Muggles stared at him no matter how well disguised and because it all smelled utterly rotten. In all honesty, perhaps it was London that he hated, even if the wizarding parts of it were a little less seedy than the rest. Years ago, when he was a young Auror, he loved the hustle and bustle of the city, gallivanting around like he owned the place with a stunning woman (though not as lovely as (Y/N), his ex-fiancé, on his arm, but those days had long passed, and he preferred the quiet countryside and the fresh air and spending time with her.

He wasn't even entirely certain what exactly he was looking for, but it couldn't be that difficult to find something related to ballet. Perhaps tickets for a performance? Though most pureblood families ensured to stay away from Muggles as best as they could, they did enjoy Muggle arts on occasion; both Ballet and Opera performances were frequented by even the most extremist of pureblood families, and Aesop used to enjoy the odd art exhibition in his days. He hadn't ever been to a ballet performance in particular, but he could endure, especially if it had been for her.

He decided on tickets for a premiere, Swan Lake, or whatever it had been called. Apparently, the ballet had been all the rage in Russia, and a company was bringing it to England for the very first time. He could be certain that his lovely colleague hadn't seen it, and the image of pure joy he had conjured in his mind was worth the insane galleon he had spent on them.

His step was considerably lighter and jovial when he made the trek towards her hut on Christmas morning, hoping, wishing that she would love her present and all would be well again. She looked surprised to see him, with a smile on his face nonetheless.

"Aesop? What are you doing here?"

"It's Christmas, isn't it?" he grinned, excited for the first time in his life to give a present. "I wanted to give you a present."

"You got me a present?" she suddenly sounded excited, her eyes lighting up in almost childlike wonder. His heart jumped as he watched a smile light up her entire face, dazzlingly bright and beautiful and so very her. However had he survived hardly seeing it over these past few weeks? He needed, craved, more.

"Of course," Aesop cleared his throat, suppressing any potentially inappropriate thoughts. He couldn't allow himself to feel it. "We're friends, aren't we?"

He missed the brief flash of hurt that swept across her face, accepting her silent invitation to join her inside before he was enveloped in the homely scent that brought him back to his childhood. Her home had been decorated with tinsel, and ivy leaves sewn onto strips of ribbon, some odd mistletoes hung around, and a wreath had been placed on the table. It smelled oddly reminiscent of speculoos and oranges, the sweet notes of honey and cinnamon biscuits hanging in the air, so very unlike his room back at the castle. The fire was crackling away, and the room was comfortably warm, so Aesop took the liberty of removing his coat and placing it onto one of her mismatched chairs, but not before he pulled a small, golden box from its pockets.

"I might have outdone myself," he grinned, holing out the present like a little boy.

"Think that highly of your present-giving skills, do you?" she jabbed back, accepting the box from his hands with a grateful smile. She was curious, to say the least. Aesop didn't seem like the gift-giving type in her eyes. Admittedly, she hadn't even expected one in the first place, not after she had all but avoided his presence to the best of her abilities ever since that fateful November night.

"I'm excellent at many things." "I'm sure you are."

They smiled at each other before the woman in front of him redirected her attention to the box in her hands as she carefully slid it open, revealing a glittering, crystal Swan ornament.

"Godric's heart," she gasped as she pulled it out, observing the way it shimmered and glittered in the morning light, its reflections casting various shapes across the room. "It's beautiful, Aesop."

"I'm glad you like it," he grinned. "But it's only a part of your present."

She looked at him with surprise, her mouth slightly open, and he wanted to kiss he wanted to laugh as he picked up on the evident bewilderment in her eyes. "This isn't my present?"

"Not exactly. I..." Suddenly he was nervous, wondering if he had picked the right thing. What if she didn't wish to be seen with him in public, especially outside school, and clearly unrelated to work? She had been avoiding him, after all, no matter what she tried to make him believe.

No going back now...

"I got us tickets for Swan Lake. In London."

The astonishment on her face was comical. If there had to be an illustration of the expression "the jaw was on the floor", Aesop was sure that this would have been it. She didn't say anything for a while, only looking at him with her wide eyes, not even blinking.

"That's..." (Y/N) cleared her throat. "That's too much, Aesop. I can't accept it."

"Bollocks," he dismissed her. "You love ballet, don't you?"

"I...I do," she conceded, though her brow furrowed. She hadn't ever told him that, had she? "I must confess I wonder why you, of all people, know about this."

"I have my ways," he tried to dismiss her, apprehensive at the prospect of her finding out that he had asked Eleazar for advice. Unfortunately for him, though, the witch was keenly astute and analytical.

"Eleazar told you, didn't he?" she concluded after a few seconds, horrified when he nodded. Eleazar knew her exceptionally well; he was like her father, for Merlin's sake. So even when she had told him that Aesop was 'just a friend', he didn't even try to suppress his laugh, evidently not believing a word she said. She had only hoped that the older man hadn't alluded to anything because Aesop could never know that she had irrevocably fallen in love with him.

"Thank you, Aesop. Truly. This is the best present I have ever received," she earnestly told him, quickly covering up her embarrassment. "I admit, my gifts truthfully don't compare to this, but..."

She only sighed, deciding to simply get it over with. She didn't recognise the excitement on Aesop's face. She had gotten him something too?

Swiftly she summoned two boxes from their hiding place across the room, offering him the first one with an ashamed smile. "I'm afraid it's no Swan Lake, but..."

"I don't want Swan Lake," Aesop quickly interjected, opening the green box. "I want – a blanket?"

"It's a scarf," she quickly corrected him, her cheeks flushed.

"A scarf," he mumbled, pulling the soft maroon fabric from the box. It was the most delicate material Aesop had ever felt, luxurious too, even if the pattern was slightly off and the edges seemed slightly frayed. He wrapped it around his neck, catching a whiff of that same homely scent that made his heart grow fonder.

"I made it myself," she nervously admitted, gauging his reaction though his face was fairly impassive. "I haven't made one in a while, but it's been a tradition in my family to always give two gifts; one that is handmade and one that is bought and usually a necessity."

"Thank you," he breathed out, enjoying the comforting feel of the fabric around his neck.

"It's no Swan Lake –" "–I don't want Swan Lake," he interrupted her again, his voice a little rougher than he wished to. "I want this scarf."

And he did. It was perfect, especially because it had been made by her delicate hands, and he never wanted to take it off again. How could she think that he would hate this?!

"Right," she mumbled before handing him a second box. "I hope you like this just as much."

The second box was also green, though slightly larger than the box with the scarf and Aesop was intrigued, if admittedly a little guilty that she had gotten him two presents in place of only one. He opened the box to reveal –

"Charcoal?" he had already been confused at the scarf, but why on earth would she give him charcoal? He watched as she nervously wrung her hands before her, avoiding his gaze as she had done all those weeks, a bright flush on her cheeks.

"I –," she audibly gulped, clearly afraid of his reaction. "I may have snuck into your room in fifth year and found your... art room."

Whatever explanation he had expected, it certainly wouldn't have been this. He should have been furious, and if she had been a student, he likely would have taken so many house points from her that her house wouldn't have recovered for years to come. Instead, he laughed.

Of course, she had snuck into his room. Of course, she had found his art room. Of course, she remembered it.

What a devious little thing she was.

The winter break passed in a calm manner, and Aesop was utterly content.

While (Y/N) still seemed somewhat reclusive, she didn't avoid his presence - a win in Aesop's mind. They had tea together again, and she had even assisted him in brewing yet another potion, even if that one hadn't helped to any greater extent. His mood had improved drastically, so much that he even apologised to Miss Larson for his harsh tone in the new year and cut her detention time short (though not forfeit it altogether). The girl was confused but obviously didn't question it any further, quite happy that she only had to spend two nights in detention instead of five.

If his colleagues noticed his new and improved mood, they at least had the decency not to comment on it, even if he caught Dinah and Eleazar throwing him and (Y/N) conspicuous glances every once in a while when they believed he wouldn't notice. He was in far too good of a mood to comment on it, not even irked by it in the slightest.

The day before their planned 'excursion' outside the palace walls, a Saturday, Aesop walked into breakfast a little later than usual, his sleep unusually restful. His favourite colleague was already seated at the table, animatedly chatting with Matilda as they finished up their breakfast.

"Mornin'," Aesop mumbled as he sat down next to (Y/N), grabbing the teapot and helping himself to a cup of Earl Grey.

"I still don't know how you can drink Earl Grey without sugar or milk," the young woman beside him grimaced. She typically had her tea with both, the brew always a perfectly creamy colour that was far too much milk for Aesop's liking.

"I can't understand how you can essentially drink sweetened milk," he jabbed back, grabbing a bread roll and putting some eggs and sausages on his plate.

"It's not sweetened milk," she pouted.

"Well, it's certainly not tea."

Matilda snorted as she watched the two of them interact, slowly starting to understand what Dinah and Eleazar had reported to be seeing. It was no secret among the staff that Aesop had a... soft spot for their newest colleague (if his much-improved mood had been anything to go by), nor had it been a secret that the two of them spent a great deal of time together outside of the necessary interactions. But as the two looked into each other's eyes, the very picture of devotion and adoration, she realised they were obtusely pining for each other. Merlin, if this really was the state of things, Matilda might join Eleazar and Dinah in their efforts.

"Something funny, Matilda?" Aesop asked her with a raised brow.

"Oh no," the Transfiguration teacher shook her head, sipping on her tea. "Nothing funny at all."

"Right," he grumbled, clearly unimpressed, before he continued his breakfast.

"Well, then," (Y/N) smiled, pushing back her chair and standing up. It was then that Aesop noticed that she looked...different. Her usually simple dress had been traded in for a much nicer one. It was moss green, lined with fur to keep her warm from the icy temperatures outside and had some intricate gold stitching that almost shimmered in the sunlight. "I still have to collect my coat. I'll see you tonight, Matilda."

"Oh, do tell Garreth I said hello."

Aesop nearly spat out his drink. Garreth? As in Garreth Weasley? The ultimate headache of a boy, the same young man whose existence had tortured Aesop for seven bloody years? Why on earth would she –

"Will do, Matilda," she singsonged before skipping outside the Great Hall, and Aesop was left with a million questions in his head. Matilda watched as Aesop's jaw was unnaturally clenched, his eggs picked up with strange aggression that hadn't been there before. Surely Garreth's name couldn't have riled him up that much?

"They're having a small reunion in the Three Broomsticks," Matilda spoke into the tense silence. "I heard Mr Sallow, Mr Thakkar, Miss Reyes and some others would be attending too."

"And that is of interest to me how?"

"You tell me," Matilda winked, chuckling as she watched the Potions Master hastily swallow the last of his breakfast before he excused himself to 'do some brewing', limping out of the Great Hall.

"I don't think I've ever seen Aesop being so obvious about his feelings," someone chuckled to the right of her. Matilda looked over to see a grinning Abraham looking at her.

"It is strange to see; I won't lie," Matilda nodded. "Quite the unlikely pairing too."

"The girl was a Hero at fifteen and has ensured that entire poaching operations have ceased in the Highlands," Abraham reminded her with a chuckle. "Just because she is less grumpy than him, I wouldn't write them off. After all, opposites do attract, no?"

"I suppose you are correct," the Transfiguration teacher agreed. "The question is, how exactly do we make them see it? It seems everyone, but them knows."

"Which I told you months ago, you bloody lot," Dinah jumped in from next to Abraham. "Merlin knows Eleazar, and I have tried to talk sense into them. He is too thick-headed to make the first move; that much is certain."

"I would not worry," a final voice joined them, the ever-elusive Mudiwa Onai looking at them with twinkling eyes. "I could see that their future together would be quite...fruitful."

(Y/N), unaware of her coworkers conspiring against her and blissfully unaware of the Potions Master she had left completely riled up, was rather looking forward to seeing her old classmates again. Even if she had spent significantly less time with them than she might have liked, largely because of her late arrival and fifth-year 'extracurriculars', many of them had become close friends of hers, and she kept in contact with most of them. Poppy, unfortunately, would not be able to make it, as she was somewhere in the Amazonas researching yet another creature, but she looked forward to seeing her during the summer. She hadn't seen most of them in quite some time, though letters between them were still largely regular.

The Three Broomsticks was as warm and inviting as ever, the establishment always having been a place of comfort and safety, especially after Sirona had fearlessly stood up against Victor Rookwod and Theophilus Harlow as they had tried to kidnap her for Ranrok and his plans. Natty was the first to spot her old friend, having them over enthusiastically. Quite a few of them had shown up; Garreth Weasley, Imelda Reyes and Nelly Oggspire, Nerida Roberts, Amit Thakkar, Ominis, hell, even Everett Clopton and Leander Prewett had made time to come with their wives, simply to get together again. The large group chatted animatedly, exchanging stories about their careers and lives.

Unsurprisingly, Garreth had started an apprenticeship under a potioneer in London, whereas Imelda and Nelly were both on the Puddlemere United Team, happily courting and enjoying life, whereas Nerida had realised her dream of becoming a Liasion for the Mermaids ("I even learned how to swim!"). Amit had relocated to India for a while, researching the stars on behalf of the Ministry and Everett Clopton and Leander Prewett both had somewhat stable careers at the Ministry. Ominis, on the other hand, had become an apprentice at a French Wandmaker's shop, fully distancing himself from his family and all that the Gaunt name entailed. And Natty, ever the Gryffindor, was slowly but surely working her way up in the Auror Office (much to her mother's chagrin). The final one, who had yet to join the group, was fashionably late and none other than Sebastian Sallow himself.

The Curse Breaker in question walked in around lunchtime, and they were all more than surprised when he was accompanied by a woman their age, clearly pregnant, and beaming smiles on their faces.

"Sorry, everyone," the man sheepishly excused himself, arm wrapped around the woman's middle with his large hands. "I returned from Romania last night, and the Ministry wanted me to drop off some reports. Took a little longer than expected." "Yeah, yeah, blah blah," Garreth waved him off, "Now who is that?"

Garreth asked the question everyone had been dying to know, and (Y/N) eyed the woman beside her close friend with curious but kind eyes. She was definitely around their age, quite petite and pale, her long ginger hair in an intricate braid, with a few pieces framing her oval, freckled face and strikingly blue eyes. She blushed as the attention diverted to her, though her smile was still beaming.

"This is Megan," Sebastian introduced them with a bright smile. "My wife."

"WIFE?!"

The reaction was immediate, the group gaping at the apparently married couple in front of them, waiting to hear just about any explanation for... well. Megan, apparently, was a witch from Ireland who had eventually attended Illvermorny as her father was relocated from the British Ministry of Magic to the MACUSA, and the two had met on one of Sebastian's curse-breaking expeditions. Sebastian, the ever-rational man he was, married her rather quickly and privately before he whisked her back to England and settled down with her in the Cotswolds. To say that especially Ominis and (Y/N) were affronted that their friend hadn't even mentioned his wife, let alone the fact that he was going to be a father soon, in any of his letters was the understatement of the year, but Sebastian placated them with some Firewhiskey and a heartfelt apology, explaining that he wanted Megan to get settled before bombarding her with the 'bloody lot they were'.

Megan was lovely, (Y/N) had to admit. A little shy, perhaps, but lovely nonetheless, and she had a great snark about her as she continued to open up to the group and the antics throughout the day. They laughed and ate, having far too much fun and far too little time before a majority of them were drunk off their asses and started to dance in their corner of the pub, absorbed in their own world and free of their adult responsibilities for just one day.

It was perhaps exactly why any of them failed to notice their old Potions Professor walking into the Three Broomsticks after the man had begrudgingly spent the afternoon brewing some odd potions before he realised that he was all out of Bicorn horn, thus needing to venture into Hogsmeade to order some from Pippin. Aesop hadn't planned his short foray into the village, so when he spontaneously decided to walk into the Three Broomsticks to drink a firewhiskey, he hadn't expected to see (Y/N) in the arms of Garreth fucking Weasley, happily dancing to some music and looking the very picture of beauty and grace.

It shouldn't have bothered him. It shouldn't have bothered him at all, but when he saw her so beautiful in the arms of another, all he could see was red as his heart audibly shattered inside his chest, his lungs constricting as he watched her do something he could never give her. He quickly retreated from the Three Broomsticks, not even bothering to order a Firewhiskey. Instead, he chose to hole himself up in his room, getting drunk there instead as he moped around.

Why was he even bothered? She didn't owe him anything, certainly not a dance or physical affection. She was a friend, a good friend. Nothing more, nothing less. It shouldn't have hurt to see her in the arms of someone else, even if that person had been Garreth Weasley, of all people. He should have been happy for her - she did say she wanted a family, children, and someone her age could certainly give her that. He was just an old, grumpy, crippled failure of a man, his best years long gone. It shouldn't have bothered him, but the more he thought about it, the more it did.

Fuck, he realised startingly as he downed his third glass of firewhiskey. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It bothered him because he cared.

Because – Aesop could hardly bring himself to think it – because he was stupidly, irrevocably, utterly and wholly in love with her.

Aesop wasn't sure how many he had to drink by the time a knock sounded on his door. He cursed his own tolerance, not nearly drunk enough to forget what he had just barely been able to admit to himself. If anything, he might have been slightly buzzed. The only person that would ever come knocking on his door, he realised, was the one person he very much wanted to avoid right now. Before he could call out a 'No', the doors opened, and she walked right in, a tray filled with his favourite foods in her hand and that damningly beautiful smile on her smile. Why in Salazar's name was she so ethereal?

"I didn't see you at dinner and got worried. So I asked the house-elf's for some of your favourites, and they were kind enough to prepare them."

Aesop's dark eyes swept over the tray, spotting roast beef, his favourite vegetables, a cornish pie and even some sticky toffee pudding. It was perfect, and it only infuriated him more. Couldn't she have ignored him? Or at least treat him unkindly? That would have helped his feelings much more than being cared for by the one person who shouldn't.

"Thanks," he hissed lowly, downing yet another firewhiskey. "Can you just leave it here?"

Her smile vanished, regarding him, with a concerned look on her face.

Why on earth did she have to wear her heart on her sleeve?! Why did she have to show him she cared about him?!

"Are you alright?"

"Yes." No – he definitely wasn't.

"You don't look like you're alright," she pushed on, carefully placing the tray on his table and walking towards him.

"I'm fine," he pressed out, glaring her way, but she didn't even flinch. "Can you please go?"

"Now I know you're not alright," she smiled, "You've never asked me to leave."

"Well, now I do," he snapped, unwilling to deal with it any longer.

"Have I done something to upset you?"

Yes. "No," he sighed dejectedly. It wasn't her fault, not really.

"Right," she drew out, clearly not believing him but choosing to save him from further mortification. An uncomfortable silence hung over them, Aesop just wishing that she would finally leave. Eventually, she sighed, turning around to leave his room and leave him alone, but not until she turned around one last time and smiled again.

"I can't wait for Swan Lake tomorrow."

Fuck, he thought once more. Swan Lake would be utter torture. With that, she left.

Aesop hadn't dreaded anything for a while now, but when he stood in front of her hut the next day, late in the afternoon, dressed in his best suit, he dreaded every second that would follow. He just had to get through this, he reminded himself. Just this, and he could be the one to avoid her. He was the one who gifted her this in the first place, and so he would have to endure it. Unfortunately, though, he hadn't expected her to look as good as she did. When she opened the door, with her big smile and bright eyes, Aesop wished that Scarborough had killed him. This was pure torture. She looked delectable and absolutely ethereal. Her dress was a silky pink colour with an almost scandalously low neckline (Merlin, was she trying to kill him?!), appropriately trimmed with gold stitching, soft lace around the shoulders and arms and a white ermine cape around her shoulders. Her hair was up and out from her face, curled and pinned to perfection, making her eyes shine even more than usual.

Well, this is going to be a problem, isn't it?

"You look bewitchingly beautiful," Aesop whispered, relishing in the blush that rose on her cheeks. At least he could tease her a little, too - he wasn't sure if he could survive this otherwise.

"You don't look so shabby yourself," she cleared her throat, swiftly joining him outside. Like a true gentleman, he offered her his arm, walking the short distance to the outside of the ground before he apparated them into a secluded alleyway in London, only a short distance from the Opera House. He hadn't held her this close since the night at the Three Broomsticks, but the warmth she emitted and the scent she carried both comforted and strangled him. She was oh so close, yet not close enough. He could only fondly smile at her when she entered the place like an excited child faced with all the candy they could ever want.

"Oh, I haven't been here forever. It's still as beautiful as I remember!"

Aesop wouldn't lie; the place was thoroughly impressive. The high ceilings shone under the million candles and crystals, illuminating the site in a comforting way. The high arches and intricate design gave the place a neo-classical feel, and it was bustling with Muggles of various ages, though, as swiftly became clear to him, most of them were likely obscenely rich. Thankfully, they hardly paid him and the beautiful woman on his arm any mind, a rarity and a crime in Aesop's mind, for he couldn't stop staring at her.

"Do you think that –"

"(Y/N)?!" a shocked voice sounded from behind them. He watched as the woman on his arm visibly paled, almost shaking in his hold as she turned around and faced the man that had spoken to her. Aesop turned around, too, wondering what could make the literal Hero of Hogwarts, a woman with world-ending ancient magic, so frightened. They came to face with an elderly man, possibly around Eleazar's age, and a slightly younger woman. The closer Aesop looked at her, the sooner he spotted it; she had her eyes, her nose, her lips, hell, even her hair, though the other woman's was visibly fading into white. Her parents, Aesop thought, surprised. What were the odds?

"(Y/N) is that truly you?" the man asked, stepping closer, and Aesop felt the need to take a small step forward, effectively shielding her from their gazes.

"Evening, Father," she mumbled, and Aesop loathed how demure she sounded. Was she an innocent and sweet woman? Yes. Demure? No. She was a fighter who didn't back down against various beasts, poachers, and goblins. And this man was scaring her? Not on Aesop's watch.

"You look well," she added after a while, though it sounded awfully strange and forced. Her mother at least had the decency to look ashamed, and Aesop could name a thousand reasons why as he glared at them. Her father, however, had flickered his gaze over to Aesop and was regarding him with newfound interest. He knew that her parents were wealthy, but the people in front of him were nothing short of gaudy, pompous and carried a sneer as arrogant as the one on Black's face. These people had raised her? His lovely woman that emitted so much warmth and comfort that it could kill several Dementors?

"Thank you," her father said after a few seconds, though his eyes were firmly trained on Aesop – and his gigantic scar. "You have grown up beautifully."

Aesop had never wanted to strangle someone as badly as this man. The sheer audacity. Was he right? Absolutely. Did he have the right? Absolutely not.

"And who is this, might I ask?"

She tensed beside him, and Aesop wondered why for a second before he remembered one of their earliest conversations. If her parents hadn't approved of a co-educational school, they surely wouldn't have approved of her spending time with a man she was not married to.

"He's my –" "I'm her husband," Aesop interjected, eyebrow raised as he regarded the people before him with as much of a sneer as he could muster. Fight fire with fire, Aesop thought deviously.

"Husband?" her mother suddenly spoke up, a look of surprise on her face.

"Is there a problem?" Aesop asked, his tone menacing. It didn't impress her father one bit.

"So you actually managed to find a decent husband?" he sneered, looking back at his daughter for a fleeting second before returning his attention to Aesop. "Consider me surprised that a man would marry a dishonoured woman. Though perhaps the market was too slim for a cripple."

"Father!" "Listen here, Mr. (Y/L/N)," Aesop growled as he stepped as close to the man as he possibly could, not wanting to cause a ruckus among all of these people. "I will not have you question my wife's honour. She is a Hero in our world, did you know that? Of course, you didn't because your arrogant, pompous ass was too vain to ever reach out to her. I cannot even begin to fathom how someone like you raised someone as wonderful as her. She nearly lost her life as she successfully stopped people so evil they would make your skin crawl from ruining our world. That said," his glare was intense enough to burn the man, "my wife's honour was perfectly intact. You wish to know why? Because our school ensures any untoward things do not happen. You could have known that before you left her for the gallows. Now, you will leave us be. And if I hear of any attempts to reach her, I will personally ensure you will burn in hell. This cripple," Aesop spat the word angrily, "knows how to make it look like an accident."

He pulled (Y/N) away without so much as a second thought, grabbing her arm and walking as fast as his damned leg would allow, hoping that her parents were seated far away from them.

"Aesop?" his company meekly asked him as they had settled in their box. He was still heaving, his breaths coming out a little erratic as he fought the primal urge to turn around and kill a certain someone. When he finally turned to face her, he looked into her watery (Y/E/C) eyes, relieved to at least see a small smile on her lips. "Thank you," she whispered gratefully.

"Any time."

The ballet was beautiful, possibly the closest thing Aesop had ever seen to magic in the muggle world; the delicate nature of the dancers and the way they were seemingly carried by the music was enchanting. He could see why she loved it as much as he did. The greatest thing, though, was catching her smile. It was so bright and wide, and Aesop couldn't get enough. This was worth every galleon, and he would've emptied his and his family's vault to just get a single glimpse of it again.

Her father's sperm donor's words continued to run in Aesop's mind as the two of them wordlessly made their way back, apparating and then walking the remaining distance to her hut. She, utterly content and smiling; him, revisiting what the poor excuse of a man had said to his own child nonetheless. He was correct about him; Aesop was but an old cripple, undeserving of someone like her. In some way, Aesop had accepted that he might never be whole, that his best years had long passed and that he was meant to be confined to Bachelorhood for the rest of his days. But when the woman of his dreams stood close to him, so near yet far beyond his reach, all he wished for was to be whole again.

"Would you like to come in for some tea?" she offered as they reached her hut.

"Yes," Aesop answered without a second thought. This night was bound to end soon enough. He could be selfish for just a few more minutes, relishing in her company, before he would have to ban her from his life.

She beamed at him, the same smile that made his heart skip several beats and that had him wish he could up and kiss her. The smile that was his undoing. Her cabin was as cosy as he remembered, the same smell of fresh pastries and freshly pressed linen and something uniquely her permeating the air and enveloping him in what felt like a suffocating hug. He sat in one of her comfortable armchairs, watching as she waved her wand, her gramophone quietly filling the space with a tune Aesop didn't recognise, her kettle slowly bubbling away on her stove.

"I want to apologise," she spoke into the silence after a while, still next to her stove as she waited for the water to boil.

"Whatever for?" Aesop asked.

"My...father," she sighed.

"Well, forgive me for being forward, but it is hardly your fault that your 'father' is a raging piece of shit."

He watched as she let out a single laugh that sounded more like a scoff than anything else. "No, it is not, but that doesn't mean I don't feel sorry for what he's said to you in particular."

"Don't be," Aesop grumbled as he averted his gaze, hoping to end the conversation right there. He didn't want her pity - that would be far worse than her rejection. "He wasn't entirely wrong."

"But he was!" Her ferocious tone surprised him, his eyes finding hers and seeing pure, unadulterated rage in them.

"I am a cripple," Aesop slowly corrected her. "And I am well above your years."

"You are not a cripple, Aesop Sharp," she seethed at him, further surprising him. "And you are not old. Have you any idea what kind of man my father had me betrothed to? He was fifty when I was thirteen, and the betrothal was finalised."

Aesop clenched his hands into fists at her revelation, wishing to seek out her father to beat sense into him.

"Simply because the man you were supposed to marry was even older than I was does not mean I am not old nor a cripple," Aesop pressed forth, wanting to run from this conversation, his resolve to leave her hanging by a precarious thread.

"You are not a cripple," she repeated herself, her voice resolute.

"I am," Aesop seethed, having risen from his position on the armchair as quickly as his leg would allow, unable to stop himself. "I am but a man whose prime had passed when I stepped into Scarborough harbour. A man who is undeserving of the wonderful woman you are and have become. Surely you must know that a woman like yourself could do far better than me."

She gaped at him with wide eyes, a million thoughts running through her head. "A woman like me?" she asked, her voice reduced to a whisper.

"Yes, a woman like you," Aesop's resolve had finally broken, and he was incapable of telling her anything but the truth. When she inevitably hated him after this, when she inevitably rejected his sorry arse, perhaps he could move on. "A wonderful, beautiful woman like you. A woman who has given her all for this world and has expected not one thing in return. A woman who is so bloody kind and loving that even I couldn't help but be drawn in. A woman who hasn't escaped my mind, no matter how infuriating she is at times."

"What –" she gulped audibly, her eyes still wide as she searched his. The air in the room was stagnant as neither of them refused to say anything, though Aesop could feel his heart beating out of his chest, praying to whatever god would listen to him that she would finally get it over with. "What are you saying, Aesop?"

"Do I actually have to spell it out for you?!" he groaned exasperated, running a hand through his hair as he grew more frustrated than he thought possible.

"Well, do not get angry with me." "I am not angry." "Well, clearly you are. Look at you."

Aesop stalked up to her in quick strides, towering over her much smaller frame as he looked down into her eyes furiously, feebly attempting to ignore her comforting scent. "Right then," he growled. "No matter what I bloody do, you are on my mind like a damn pixie infestation. My thoughts of you simply never end. You carry my heart in your hands and do not even know it. I am yours; painfully, I am yours. But it is utterly ridiculous to think someone like you," Aesop stressed, "would ever burn for someone like me."

Not even wishing to hear her rejection from this point forth, Aesop attempted to turn around to hastily exit her home, only to be stopped by her small hand reaching out for his. He turned back, expecting to see disgust, hate or even contempt in her eyes, but all he found were unshed tears and a look he could not read.

"You...You care for me?" she cautiously spoke, a small (Aesop didn't believe it) hopeful smile on her face.

"I don't care for you," Aesop gulped, finally allowing himself to speak the words that likely had been on his mind since she stepped back into the bloody castle. "I burn for you."

A sob spilt from her lips, though they simultaneously widened into a smile. "Aesop Sharp," she tearfully grinned at him, "You utter fool."

Yes, pour salt into the wound, Aesop thought dejectedly. He knew he was a fool for –

He didn't have time to finish his thoughts before the witch he had fallen in love with grabbed the lapel of his coat to pull him down, her soft, plush lips meeting his.

pt. 2 coming soon

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archiveikemen · 1 year

Text

Liam Evans Main Story: Chapter 18

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by playing their games and buying stories. Not 100% accurate, expect mistakes.

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The only sound that could be heard on that abandoned clock tower was their breathing.

Max, the father, had a facial expression filled with desire for control as he pointed a gun at his son.

However, to his son, Liam, that ugly expression looked painful.

Liam: OK. I’ll do everything as you wish.

The man standing in front of Liam wanted him to jump off on his own.

Liam: However—

Liam: I have one favour to ask of you.

Max: Anything except begging for your life.

Liam: … Haha, I know.

Liam: I want my dead body to disappear without a trace. Decapitate me or toss me into the ocean, I don't care how you do it.

The starry sky reflected in his rose coloured eyes.

The stars were shining brightly that night, like the ones he saw with Kate.

Liam: … Can I say a few things? Take it as I’m saying my last words.

Liam: My life is worthless. I’ve always thought that I’d be better off dead, just like you said.

Liam: Just by being alive, I had countless wrongdoings that hurt people. Therefore, it was best if I disappeared as soon as possible.

Liam: However, when Jacob saved my life…

Liam: His last words, “please live”, held me back.

Liam: That’s why I’ve been living my life so miserably and searching for a good reason to die.

Liam: … Weird, right? People die without warning, and yet here I am living this way because I want to die.

Liam: It was ridiculous, miserable… and I felt so guilty. I felt sorry for being alive.

Liam: Therefore, I decided that for as long as I was alive, I wanted to be the kind of person everyone wanted me to be…

Liam: I tried so hard not to be hated, not to hurt others, and not to ruin anything. I looked like a complete fool…

Liam: Because of that… I don’t hate the idea of dying.

Liam: I can finally end my life.

Liam: However.

Liam: I thought I would have no regrets, but… there's one thing that scares me.

His eyes narrowed into a gentle look that seemed to contain feelings of affection.

Liam: One day, I met a woman.

Liam: She looked very anxious… so I approached her because I wanted to make her smile.

Liam: However… now that I think of it, I said I was doing it for her sake, but the truth is that I did it for myself, isn't it?

Liam: I wanted to be someone who she needed, because it made me feel like I had a reason to live.

Liam: Our relationship started because of such selfish reasons… but she gave me so much.

Liam: Her every word, every glance, every move… all of it made me feel truly happy.

Liam: I especially liked the way she always belived in a tomorrow.

– Flashback Start –

Liam: Is your appetite back?

Kate: … Not really. But I don’t want the food to go to waste, and I have to at least eat something so I’m ready to face tomorrow.

Liam: … Tomorrow?

Kate: Even if today was a bad day, I want to keep going in hopes that tomorrow will be better. Therefore, I need strength to do that.

– Flashback End –

Liam: Whenever she was having a hard time, even if it was to the point of her being in tears, she always reached her hand out towards tomorrow. Her wise way of living was so moving.

– Flashback Start –

Kate: I want to help others to not be afraid of what tomorrow will bring them... by writing a story.

– Flashback End –

Liam: She was the kind of woman who had hopes for the tomorrows of not just herself, but everyone around her, including myself.

– Flashback Start –

Kate: The stars are beautiful tonight, so tomorrow's weather will definitely be clear… I’m looking forward to spending time with you tomorrow.

Liam: Tomorrow…

Liam: I’m part of your tomorrow too…?

– Flashback End –

Liam: Her existence was truly radiant. She made me feel like I could accomplish anything as long as I had her by my side.

Liam: I was definitely more in love with her than I deserved to be… I longed for her from the bottom of my heart.

Liam: She’s so kind hearted, she’ll feel hurt and cry for sure if she knows I’m dead. … That’s the only thing to avoid happening.

Liam: I should never be the reason why she’s unhappy.

Liam: I… I want all her tomorrows to be bright.

Max: You want me to dispose of your body so that the girl won’t find it. … A very audacious request.

Liam: I’m sorry I can’t be a good son till the end. But, please, I’m begging you!

An icy breeze hit his cheek, as if telling him that his life was at its end.

Liam: Come! It’s time to put an end to this life.

With a light foot, Liam stepped up and leaned his body out.

The stars looked beautiful that night.

And he was sure that the world would be much more beautiful if he disappeared.

He thought that death was something he had already accepted.

… And yet, what were those feelings surging in his heart that made him want to scream and cry?

Liam: Ah…

Liam: Ahh…

Liam: In my next life, I want to be someone who’s loved by everyone…

Liam: I want to be someone who will genuinely… make Kate smile…

Liam: I wonder if I’ll still be a nuisance to Kate even after I’m reborn…

Liam: … But… I wish that I’ll meet Kate again…

Liam: How strange … this is a thrilling situation that could satisfy my curiosity.

Liam: And yet I’m not the least bit excited…

…

We hopped off the carriage and looked up at the highest point of the clock tower.

Harrison: Roger. Can your hearing pick up his voice?

Roger: Yeah… I hear him.

Roger: He must be at the very top of this clock tower.

(... The belfry.)

Alfons: Hm. There are no buildings we can jump from to get to him, so it seems that we’ll have no other option but to climb up the stairs quietly.

The thought of having to climb the stairs to reach a place so high up that it looked like it was touching the sky, could've been enough to make me lose motivation.

But—

(... Liam’s life might be in danger even now as we speak.)

Kate: Let's hurry.

…

We ran up the spiral staircase towards Liam, who was at the belfry.

I had no idea how far up we’ve gotten, but I was already gasping for air.

Kate: Haa…

Roger: Oi, you don’t look so good. Are you alright, young lady…!

My knees were so pathetically weak that it was laughable, and I certainly didn’t look alright at all.

(But I can’t give up right now. Giving up is not an option.)

Kate: I’m alright. Let’s hurry, Roger.

Roger: … Haha. That must've been very unnecessary for me to say. Let’s work a little harder.

I was becoming even more breathless, but I didn't let that stop me.

(I need to reach Liam as soon as possible.)

(I need to hold Liam with these hands.)

(Faster, faster…)

The nearer I got to Liam, the more I felt the air of death surrounding him.

I was starting to notice it, but I just couldn't dive deeper into the core of that heart.

I recalled Liam telling me “make sure that nothing can harm what’s at the core of your heart”.

But the core of Liam’s heart must've been covered in wounds that bled continuously.

(Reaching out to try and touch it, is the same as touching his wounds directly.)

I was afraid that touching his wounds would worsen the pain.

(Therefore, I want to stay by Liam’s side and gradually get to know what those wounds are.)

(I hope that one day, we can share those wounds and sorrows.)

(However.)

I claimed to be doing it for Liam’s sake, but the truth was that it was only because I was afraid of hurting him.

At that moment, from the tower’s window, wind mercilessly blew against my face.

The cold made me imagine Liam falling over the edge of the tower.

(It's useless to regret anything.)

(— Regrets won't do anything to help Liam.)

(I need to force myself to ignore my fears.)

(I just want to reach out my hand to him.)

Harrison: *pant*... Kate, we’re almost at the belfry.

Kate: *pant* Y-Yeah…!

(... Please, please let us make it in time.)

I had never missed that sweet vanilla scent so much before.

His slightly quirky yet sweet voice, his rose coloured hair and eyes, I missed everything about Liam.

With every step I took, memories of the time I had spent with Liam came flashing clearly into my mind.

(... On the night we met, he helped to calm my anxiety.)

– Flashback Start –

Liam: Hey, Kate. You don't have to force a smile when you don’t want to.

Liam: Forcing a smile is an act of kindness towards the people around you, but you’re not being kind to yourself, you know?

…

(After that, Liam would always try to be there for me.)

Victor: Oh, Liam just negotiated with me about you becoming his personal fairytale writer.

Liam: — And Victor said OK to it.

…

(Whenever I felt uncomfortable in an unfamiliar place, he would be right there by my side, giving me his gentle encouragement.)

Liam: It’d be much easier to stop thinking about those things. And yet… you’re not the type to run away from your problems.

Liam: But I want to make you smile, that’s why I’m always pampering you.

I received more kindness from him than I could ever hold.

The last words Liam said to me that were so painfully kind resonated in my heart.

…

Liam: Therefore, you’ll be alright, Kate. I hope you’ll always be someone who believes in tomorrow.

– Flashback End –

(Hey, Liam.)

(You were lonely and afraid of what your tomorrow would bring you.)

(And yet, you still tried to protect my tomorrow…?)

He was always putting others before himself, always giving and never taking.

If I told Liam that, he would definitely deny it saying “it’s not real kindness”.

But, to me, all of that was true kindness and they’ve saved me so many times.

Whenever I received his kindness, I had a burning feeling in my heart.

Whether it was longing, sympathy, or the desire to protect… I couldn't put a name to it.

I wouldn't say that the time I spent with Liam was completely peaceful.

(But, at last, it was clear to me.)

(I… I’m fond of Liam.)

(So much that I don’t want to lose him no matter what.)

I knew that it was foolish and awful to only realise it at a time like that.

But—

(I don’t want to lose you.)

(I will never let you die.)

— Even if it’s painful for you.

Roger: We reached the belfry! All of you stay behind me.

Roger held the shotgun he was carrying on his back.

Roger: … Let’s go.

With Roger in the lead, we rushed out onto the belfry.

(T-That person is… Liam’s…)

And the person he’s pointing his gun at was—

Facing out of the belfry with his arms wide open, Liam was about to jump off.

Kate: … Liam.

Max: What are you people!

I sensed the gun’s muzzle being pointed at me, but I never took my eyes off Liam.

In the corner of my eye, I saw Roger and the others jump onto the man pointing his gun at me.

Still, I ran towards Liam.

(Wait, please, wait… don’t go)

Liam slowly threw himself off the edge and—

Kate: … Liam!

I fell to the ground with my hand outstretched, reaching out to Liam.

I instantly felt a force on my hand.

(... Ggh.)

His rose coloured eyes widened.

Liam: … K… Kate…

Liam: Why… why are you… here?

Liam: Stop! If you don’t let go, you'll also… ugh.

Kate: I don’t want to! I will never, NEVER, let go of you…!

My arm was getting cramped up.

Liam: W… Why…

Liam: Why… why are you doing this for me—

(I can’t tell him why…)

My vision shook and tears fell from my eyes.

Kate: Isn’t it obvious! I… I’m here to save you because you're someone who's precious to me!

Kate: I cherish you, and I want to protect you…

Kate: Because I love you…!

Liam: …

(... I’m sorry, Liam.)

(I can’t give up on you, even if it hurts…)

Kate: I’m begging you. Grab on tight…!

I yelled as loud as I could, trying not to let my voice be drowned out by the sounds of gunshots being fired wildly behind me.

But Liam never grabbed my hand.

(No… my hand…)

(I don’t want to, I don't…)

Kate: … Ue… uwaahh…

It wasn't the right time and place to cry, but I could no longer hold back my tears.

Kate: … Liam…

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #otome #ikevil main story #liam main story #niki translates

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nenilein · 11 months

Text

Drama CD #7-3: Yu and Rei’s Lingering Regrets? (ENG)

[DISCLAIMER: This translation was made by me! Feel free to repost parts of it or the entire text wherever you want as long as you credit the translator correctly!]

Happy Birthday, Yu and Rei! To celebrate the occasion, I decided to finally post this translation here! (It was previously only available as a Google Doc)

_________________

INTRO

Yu: Yu and Rei’s… dwindling outlets!

Rei: …Lingering regrets.

STORY

Yu: Hey there, I’m Yu! And I’m here… to haunt the pants off of you!

Amitie: EEEK! Don’t just jump out and scare me like that, geez!

Yu: Hey, young lady over there! Won’t you come and join us on our skyward vacation as a whole new ghost!?

Raffina: No thank you! As if I would ever lower myself to becoming something that can’t have these beautiful legs!

Yu: Heyo, nice girl over there! Sorry to just pop in but here comes a POP QUIZ!

Lidelle: Eek! W…W-W…What is it about…?

Yu: What never eats and never sleeps, and yet always stays full of energy and healthy!?

Lidelle: Um… well… That’s, uh…

Yu: The answer is: A ghost! So it’s time for you to become a ghost too!

Lidelle: N…Nooooo! Please, stop it!

Yu: Oho, young man over there!

Sig: GOODBYE.

Yu: Whoa, today sure was fun again! Right, Rei?

Rei: Yeah. Sure was.

Yu: Right! So, so, so! Let’s keep at it! Today, tomorrow and the day after tomorrow! As long as I’m with you, Rei, life as a ghost will never be boring!

Rei: Hm…

Yu: Huuuuh? Rei, what’s wrong…? You look like you’re thinking about something.

Rei: Yeah, I guess I’ve been thinking… a bit lately…

Yu: Well if that’s how it is! Never fear! For Yu is here! Doesn’t matter what it is that you’re wondering about! I’ll have it figured out in a jiffy!

Rei: So, why… Why are we ghosts…? Is what I’ve been wondering…

Yu: Huuuuh? What’cha mean?

Rei: I’ve been a ghost as long as I can think… But, why? Why am I like this…? I just can’t remember anything from before…

Yu: Hmmmmm….! Wow, you came up with some trivia even I can’t give an answer to!

Rei: Yu…

Yu: Alrighty, let’s go and ask someone who looks like they might know!

Rei: Huh…?

Yu: Let’s go! Go! Ghost step ahead!

Rei: Step… without legs…?

Yu: And that’s why we’re here! Hi there, Mr. Bespectacled Knows-it-All!

Klug: My name is KLUG! Gh… What are you here for!? Another pop quiz, perhaps? Or… You aren’t trying to make me into a ghost again are y-!?”

Yu: BZZZZZZZ! Sorry, wrong answer! Today we’re haunting you for consultation!

Rei: …We’re consulting you.

Klug: A… About what…?

Yu: We’re asking: How and why did the two of us become ghosts?!

Rei: How and why…?

Klug: Huh? Why you two became ghosts? Hm… Let’s see… To my knowledge… It is generally believed that a soul is likely to become a ghost if it has strong lingering regrets and attachments left in the living world…

Yu: Oh, I see! So maybe we just left some bread in the oven!

Klug: Regrets, not baguettes!

Yu: Or maybe we never finished sewing all the sequins on that dress…!

Klug: Regrets, not paillettes!

Yu: Or maybe we had a favorite newspaper we never finished reading…!

Klug: REGRETS, not GAZETTES!

Yu: Just a few more of those twilit evenings…!

Klug: REGRETS, NOT SUNSETS!

Yu: Those powerful emotions left by an unfinished business, that tie us to this world!!

Klug: ONCE AGAIN! REGRETS, NOT REGRE– uh. Huh?

Yu: Ahahahahaha! You nailed that punchline, thank you very much!

Rei: Many thanks.

Klug: Argh…! You are driving me insane! I shall excuse myself now, goodbye!

Yu: And thus Klug left, trying to look as smart as possible!

Rei: Because you did a number on him, Yu…

Yu: And thus we are now here, with that very certain girl, who probably knows a thing or two about all things occult, and another three or four about how to be just the slightest tad terrifying!!

Rei: Here we are…

Feli: The twin ghosts… What are you plotting? Did you come to let me exorcise you off this mortal coil once and for all?

Yu: Aaaaaaahhh! She’s just as scary as e-ever! But, but! That’s not what we’re here for!

Rei: Yeah. We’re not.

Yu: We come to you on this fine day because we’ve got a question to ask!

Rei: An important question.

Feli: Hm… That’s unusual of you. Very well. I shall let you speak.

Yu: You see! The two of us have no idea why we ended up becoming ghosts!

Feli: And why in the world would I know that?

Yu: Whoa!! Talk about being rebuffed! Um, UM…! Oh! Then, then! Why don’t you try to read our pasts? You’re so good at fortune telling, I’m sure you can make it work somehow!

Rei: …somehow.

Feli: I • Don’t • Want • To. It is most likely for the better if you don’t know it, anyway.

Yu: HUUUUUH? Why, why?

Feli: Well, let’s suppose you did find out. What would you do with that knowledge?

Yu: Um, well… It’s just that Rei…

Rei: I want to know. It’s… always been bothering me.

Feli: Whatever. Go home. Don’t keep thinking about these things.

Yu. HUUUUUH? Ah! I get it! You just can’t do it!

Feli: …Heh?

Yu: I’m right, right? You don’t know the truth, AND you don’t have any faith in your ability to divine it, either! That’s why you don’t wanna tell us!

Feli: What did you just say?! …Well, if you are going to insult me, very well! Just watch me! I shall peer into the fate that befell you • In • The • Past…

[magic noises]

Feli: KiiiiiiAAAAAAAHHHH!!!

[magic noises]

Yu: AAAAHH! She’s doing something!!

Rei: She is.

Rei: Hey, Yu! Yu! What’s wrong? Aw, why are you holed up back here all on your own again?

Yu: R-Rei… I was just reading a book…

Rei: Oh, c’mon Yu, the weather is so nice outside! Let’s go out and play together! What else do we have so many friends for?

Yu: Um… I… uh… I am more comfortable… back here… where it’s quiet.

Rei: Huh? Really?

Yu: And… uh… The others might just call me… ‘depressing’ again…

Rei: I’m sure they won’t! And if they do, I’ll protect you! I’ll always be by your side, Yu, so don’cha ever worry!

Yu: You’ll… always be with me…? Really?

Rei: Sure! We’re twins! As long as we’re together, there’s nothing we have to be scared of!

Yu: Y…Yeah. You’re right. As long as I’m with you, Rei…

[magic noises. There is a scene transition.]

Rei: Huh? Why does my body feel so light all of a sudden? Yu…? Yu, where are you?

Yu: I’m here…

Rei: Yu! You’re floating!

Yu: Ahahah… You’re floating too, Rei.

Rei: Yu… What’s going on…?

Yu: What’s happened to us…? …Well, I don’t mind. Looks like we can still stay together, and that’s all that matters. And… I feel so light now… all that weight has fallen off my heart, too!

Rei: We’re… together…?

Yu: I’m sure as long as we’re together, every day will be fun, no matter what becomes of us! Forever and ever! We’ll be HAPPY foreeeeever now!

[magic noises. There is a scene transition.]

Lemres: Feli… FELI!

Feli: Ah!

Lemres: Feli…

Feli (trembling voice): L…L-L-L-LEMRES!! W-Why are you… here…?

Lemres: I was just passing through, that’s all. I think you should stop this reading while you’re ahead. Okay?

Feli: Y…Y-Y-Yeah… E-E-E-Excuse me…

Yu: HUUUH?! So, so! How was it?! What did you see? Tell us, tell us!

Rei: Please tell us.

Feli: Uh…. [she stays quiet for a while] …The divination failed.

Yu: HUUUUH?

Rei: Huh?

Feli: Unrelated memories… disturbed the flow of what I was trying to read…

Yu: Oh noooo…! Hmpf! HMPF!

Lemres: I guess even our Feli can have an off day sometimes. Alright, let’s call it a day! I’ll give you all some niiice, sweet chocolate, so let’s all go home, okay?

Yu: Oh sweet! Now I can’t stay mad. That chocolate makes me melt, like it’s melting in my mouth! …Hey, Rei, are you okay with that?

Rei: Um.... Yeah, I guess…

Yu: Alrighty, with that all settled! See ya next scare! Bye-bye!

Rei: Bye-bye…

[They leave]

Feli: L…Lemres… I saw…

Lemres: Feli.

Feli: Lemres…

Lemres: I guess you saw something really strange, huh? Maybe you still need to train your power more, so you have better control over it.

Feli: … Yes… Maybe that is just it…No, I mean… I’m sure you’re right.

Lemres: Aw, c’mon, don’t make that face. Come with me. I’m taking you out for some dessert.

Feli: …! I’m coming!

Lemres: As they say… chocolate makes you melt… hm…

-END

#Neni translates #puyo pop #puyo puyo #puyopuyo #puyo #puyo pop fever #Yu (Puyo Puyo)#Rei (Puyo Puyo)

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thegirlfromhawkins · 2 years

Text

Bleaching/Dyeing Your Hair ft. Eddie Munson

Inspired by me bleaching my hair for the uhhh idk how many times I present you this lovely headcanon. It was something short and sweet I could write today since I’m a bit busy at the moment but welcome to my blog! First actual story post and there is more to come! Thank you for reading! (I will be making a master list when I get more works out.)

✪ good lord when you came to his trailer with a box of bleach and hair dye he was shocked but not super shocked

✪ he totally gets the whole do it yourself thing and not having to pay for someone else to do it for you… even if doing it yourself has a more likely chance of something going wrong

✪ before even letting you bust open a box he’d stop you

✪ “Babe are you sure you want to do this?”

✪ “Yes. I am positive.”

✪ “I just don’t want you to regret it or something love.”

✪ though he has no experience with the whole changing hair color thing he gladly steps in to help

✪ he even bestows one of his old band tees to wear so you don’t ruin your clothes

✪ he must read through all the instructions before allowing the process to start even if you tell him you know exactly what you’re doing.

✪ (it’s not because he doesn’t trust you, he just doesn’t want to mess up while helping you)

✪ “Y/N it says to split your hair into four sections not two.”

✪ “I don’t care if it takes longer to section it out, I am not messing up your hair.”

✪ once he’s got the first step down after however long it takes for this man to get his shit in order he insists on mixing everything up and begins to claim he’s your “personal hairdresser”.

✪ “Jesus Christ why does it smell so strong!?”

✪ “It’s burning my nose just smelling it. You’re sure you want this on your head?”

✪ after he finishes each section making sure to get the bleach on every strand possible he gives you a kiss

✪ he also sticks his tongue out as he’s trying to work with such precision

✪ (if only he would have worked that hard to graduate sooner)

✪ after he gets done with your hair he looks it over and gives a satisfied smile to you

✪ he’s so proud of himself gosh he’s the sweetest boy

✪ after setting a timer on his watch and giving you a kiss you’d think he’d be more relieved but nope

✪ this boy checks his watch constantly while you sit and watch tv while waiting to rinse out your hair

✪ “Eddie it hasn’t even been ten minutes.”

✪ “I know, I know! I’m just checking the time…”

✪ right as that timer beeps you better get your ass up quick cause your hair will not be ruined with this boy around

✪ he quickly finds a nice temperature for the water coming out of the faucet and helps you get your head under it

✪ running his fingers through your hair he watches as all the bleach goes down the drain

✪ he was doing great until…

✪ “Eddie! My eyes! You’re getting it in my eyes!”

✪ water is then flung around the bathroom as he curses frantically trying to find the closest clean towel as fast as humanly possible

✪ profusely apologizes for the incident after finishing up your hair and drying it with a towel

✪ even after you say you’re okay he still can’t help but feel a little bad

✪ when you both make your way back into the kitchen you notice how late it was

✪ with pleading eyes Eddie simply asks,”Tomorrow night?”

✪ knowing you were both tired from not only the day but also the hair bleaching events you agree

✪ (how could you not agree with those eyes?)

✪ after a sigh of relief from Eddie you both enjoy the rest of your night in watching movies and listening to music as usual until it’s time to get some sleep

✪ cuddling up together is Eddie’s favorite part of you sleeping over but he can’t help but have other things occupying his mind and one thought comes out in a whisper

✪ “You still smell like bleach.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #joseph quinn #joseph quinn imagine #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #st4 #eddie cult #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson headcanon #joseph quinn headcanons #headcanon #hawkins #stranger things imagine #stranger things s4 #stranger things headcanons

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ghostlygeto · 2 years

Note

okay last one for now, because I don't want to overwhelm you or anything.

"you deserve better than me" from the angst prompts with keishin, preferably with a fluff ending if possible though, please? <3

okay so i KNOW it says preferably a fluff ending, but you said it was okay if i posted this anyway and i’ve been sitting on it for ages so i am going to. i promise i will give you the most teeth rotting fluff for ukai if you want it next, just to make up for this lol

pairing: ukai keishin x reader

warnings: angst, breakup, hurt/no comfort, just sad shit but <3 part 2 here

wc: 650

“You deserve better than me.”

Ukai hated having to pick between practicing longer and coming home to you. Because even though you were the most important thing in his life, he felt it easier to let down one person than to let down twelve. And of course for awhile you understood, you'd get most of the day together anyway. Hanging out in the store during your shifts during the day, sleeping next to each other at night.

But it got old fast, Ukai coming home well past midnight because he had been at a late practice with the boys and then discussing tactics over drinks with Takeda. Even in the time you did have together before he left for practice, it felt like you never spoke. He was busy talking to Takeda over the phone or watching old games and practice matches or coming up with new formations. It didn't matter if you'd try to talk to him, he would just hum in response or give a simple "yeah". You knew he wasn't listening.

You weren't sure when the thought came to mind. But when he had stood you up after promising to be home for dinner, you knew what you had to do. It was 8pm on a Friday, and you knew at this rate he'd be there for another two hours. But you needed to get this out now. You needed to go to the gym and tell him everything.

It was a short walk to the gym, but a cold one. You regretted not changing into pants before leaving your shared home, but you were sure that if you had given yourself anymore time to think you may have talked yourself out of it. So there you were, outside the school's gym door in shorts and one of his hoodies that was far too big on you.

"Keishin," You called out, taking everyone in the gym by surprise. It seemed like everyone stopped what they were doing when they saw you. And you say his face drop, "Can you come out here please? I want to talk to you."

All he did was nod, telling the boys to go back to doing whatever it was moments prior before joining you outside and closing the door behind him. "y/n, I'm so sorry. It completely slipped my mind, I promise I will make it up to you tomorrow."

"I don't think you'll have to do that," You took a deep breath in, "I can't do this anymore, Keishin. You've been so absorbed into volleyball lately that you've barely spoken to me. You promised you'd be home tonight but you're still here. As always."

It didn't feel real, not for one second. You hadn't said it yet, but you didn't need to. He knew where you were going with this. "I love you, y/n. Please don't do this now. You deserve better than me, I know you do. But I can fix this. Give me a chance."

"I love you, I do. More than anything I've ever loved before. But I can't handle being in a relationship with someone who is never there anymore," You finally let the tears fall from your eyes, "I'm going to my friend's house tonight. I'll be by tomorrow and Sunday to get my things. Goodbye, Ukai."

The use of his last name was the final nail in the coffin. He felt his legs start to give out underneath him as you walked away. He couldn't fight it. He knew he had been doing wrong by you lately, but didn't realize it had gotten so bad. He figured he could make it up to you as soon as they have gotten past the game they were prepping so hard for.

As it turns out, when it comes down to it, letting down one person hurts much, much worse than letting down twelve.

angst sentence starters

comments, requests, reblogs, nd likes appreciated <3

#haikyuu #coach ukai angst #ukai keishin angst #ukai x reader #coach ukai x reader #coach ukai #ukai keishin x reader #ukai keishin #haikyuu ukai #ukai x y/n #ukai x you #mine !!

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newtonsheffield · 2 years

Note

Oh gosh Molly what I wouldn’t give to read your take on Kate and Anthony’s internal experiences in the post Sheffield Dinner scene 👀👀

Oh this is easy.

But there is a lot to unpack emotionally there.

I thought I was done with my Season 2 meta but apparently I am not.

Let's start with Anthony, because I feel like his is the more obvious motivation. His overwhelming emotion when he leaves that room is relief. He has, from the moment he knelt in front of Edwina felt a strong mix of guilt and regret and longing for someone else and he's imagined the rest of his life knowing that the Sharmas are a close family and his wife will always want Kate close by and it's awful. Because at this point he knows he will want Kate close as well. And yet he'll dread it. He'll spend every visit anticipating her presence and feeling sickened at himself and the self-loathing that already lives so deep in his bones will thicken and sit like lead. Because he forced his own hand, it's true. He knew that what he felt for Kate was more than lust but he also thought he knew himself better than this. He thought he was a man who would never lust after his fiance's sister and that would be the end of this but he was wrong. Because here he is. Betrothed and desperately wanting another but it's done. And there was no way to undo it until this. Because they lied. And even though he has no use for a dowry (which he didn't need, Kate is right on that score, and he didn't even know it existed until right then) he can use this as an out. He can say that the Sharmas did not fulfil the terms of their agreement and he can back out. He's relieved but he's also hurt.

And he feels a but stupid because it's possible, it's possible that this was all a scheme. And he thought he knew Kate better than that. He feels just for a moment as though she might have played him for a fool. She was a fortune hunter, even if it was not for herself and he was stupid enough to fall in love with her. He's hurting and confused and still she's pushing forward. Still she's needling at him and his composure slips for just an instant in the face of her absolute obstinance and refusal to admit there's something between them.

Kate, for her part is terrified. Everything is crumbling around her. Edwina and Mary, who she's done all of this for are angry. If Edwina doesn't marry Anthony now, there will be no money and she's still hurt that Anthony would push the moments they shared aside and propose to Edwina anyway. She's annoyed at herself for still feeling this pull towards him even though he's betrothed to her sister and he won't even acknowledge what past between them and still she wants him. So she's focusing on the one thing she can fix. If she can get Anthony to still marry Edwina all is not lost. The plan can continue, there will be money for her family, she believes enough of Anthony that he would never let Mary go without and Edwina will be happy and she won't have to acknowledge the feelings she's having. She won't.

And then he ruins it. His composure slips and he steps closer to her because he knows she feels something. He felt it when he held her in the study. He felt the hitch in her breathing and he heard her gasp and lean into his touch, he knows there's something there and he can't help himself. He can't. Even when he knows tomorrow he will loathe himself for this. Not for the moment he stole but for the weakness it betrayed, for the way it compromised both their characters and made him into the very worst things his own mother thinks about him. But he loves her, and aches to be close to her and she's right there, he can't help himself. He's always been weak. Everyone knows that.

And as soon as Anthony crumbles, Kate does as well. Because she does love him, and she wishes things could be different. She wants the things he's saying to be true, even if they aren't.

That scene is both of them, clinging to one another on a jumble of emotions that neither of them can make sense of. They can only make sense of each other. And when he leaves Anthony is sure they're on the same page. This wedding cannot happen. They care for one another too deeply for that to happen, even if they cannot be, they cannot do this to themselves, they cannot do this to Edwina.

And then she takes it back in the cold light of day and Anthony is left reeling again. Because her mask is back in place, and he doesn't even know where his is anymore.

#bridgerton season 2 #kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

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marvelsmylife · 2 years

Text

The consequence of a fathers action part 3

Pairing: Morpheus x reader

A/n sorry I didn’t post yesterday but hopefully you’ll like this part. I have a vague idea about how this is going to end but I’m also open to suggestions. Also, I’m sorry but Thor and loki aren’t in this chapter.

part two - part four

Terrified. That’s how you felt when you arrived in the dreaming. While everyone you were introduced to was nice to you, you couldn’t help but feel out of place. Asgard was your home and while Morpheus tried to create a replica of your home in the dreaming, you told him you didn’t want a cheap knockoff of your home. “I just want to go back home. Please let me go back home to Asgard” you pleaded with Morpheus and earned a sympathetic look from Lucienne.

“No. This is your home now. Give it time, I know you will love it here” Morpheus tried to place a kiss on your cheek but you moved away before he had the chance. “Fine, you don’t have to kiss me now, I’ll see you in a few hours” Morpheus huffed out before he went with Mathew to deal with a few rogue nightmares.

Your wedding was two days after you arrived in the dreaming. It was only you and Morpheus with death, Lucienne, and Mathew as the witnesses. Morpheus wanted to invite your family and friends but he didn’t trust them. Especially since the last time, he saw one of your family members they promised they were going to get you out of the marriage.

Once your wedding “celebration” had come to an end Morpheus brought you back to his chambers. Before Morpheus had a chance to speak you blurted out “I am not having sex with you tonight”.

That caught Morpheus by surprise but he didn’t want to show it. “That is ok, we have all of eternity to do it. Let’s get some rest, we have a realm to rule tomorrow” Morpheus replied.

While Morpheus wanted to make love to his new bride on their wedding night, he respected your wishes. He knew you would eventually change your mind and when you did he wanted you to regret not making love earlier in your marriage.

To your surprise, Morpheus was respectful and did not touch you without your consent. It took you an entire year for you to allow Morpheus to touch your hands and one hundred more to finally let him kiss your cheek.

By the three hundred year mark Morpheus managed to get you to let your guard down around him. He discovered why you were so against the marriage to begin with and why you still hold a grudge against Odin. “Have you given it a second thought about inviting your father here? I’ve heard he’s still mourning your absence” Morpheus asked as he held you in his arms. You are at fiddler's green discussing the possibility of your mother and father visiting you in the dreaming.

While your relationship with Morpheus has changed for the better since you first got married, he still didn’t trust your brothers enough for him to extend an invitation to them. He’s heard through death that they are still plotting on getting you out of the dreaming and while it looked like you were falling in love with him, he didn’t know if you would still consider running away from him and the marriage.

“I don’t want to see him for the rest of my life” you whispered into Morpheus’ chest “I’ve told you what my life was like growing up and having to win my father's affection. I thought I won it until I found out he gave me away in exchange for a favor”.

Morpheus wanted nothing more than to defend your father and let you know that Odin genuinely loved you. He knew Odin saw you as his daughter even though you weren’t blood-related. Of course, Morpheus didn’t though, he was finally in a good spot in your marriage and he didn’t want to ruin it by defending the man that was now the target of your anger.

“Very well. I shall send an invite to your mother, and your mother only. Your brothers are still prohibited from entering our home” Morpheus placed a kiss on the top of your head before you both headed back to the palace.

You guys did not have sex until you were five hundred years into marriage. What finally got you to give yourself to Morpheus was the night he told you about his first marriage with Calliope and the death of their son. You could tell the death of his son still hurt so you did what your mother used to do when she saw your father get emotional, you kissed him to distract him from his pain. Morpheus was stunned at your sudden action but welcomed the sudden affection you gave him.

“I’m so sorry” you apologized “you were just talking about your son and I-“

Morpheus interrupted you with another kiss, this time he took control and got you pinned down on the mattress. “Never apologized for kissing your husband, especially since it is the first kiss in our marriage” Morpheus murmured against your lips.

You let out a soft moan at the word husband. Yes, he has called himself your husband thousands of times but for the first time, you actually liked it. You have spent so long fighting off the thought of actually giving yourself to Morpheus that you finally allowed yourself to stop. “I’m ready to give myself to you, my dear husband” you moaned into Morpheus’ ear once he started leaving kisses down your neck.

“Are you sure you want to my darling wife? I will not stop once we start” Morpheus asked, giving you the chance to back out before it was too late. All you could do was nod as you finally allowed yourself to love and give yourself to your husband.

@secretdreamlandmentality @intothesoul @jesllianaquilesrolon

#morpheus imagines #morpheus x reader #the sandman imagine

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serinemolecule · 1 year

Text

It turns out the 36 questions to love were originally 40 questions and the questions were slightly different. Quoting the Twitter thread, "study results make a lot more sense now".

They were posted to Twitter as images, so here I am OCRing them to text:

Appendix G:

Ouestions/Tasks for Getting Close

(These were each printed on a separate 3x5 card)

Instructions: Read the first card out loud and do what it asks. Then read the second card, etc. Please don't skip any cards - do each in order. If it asks you a question, share your answer with your partner. Then let him or her share their answer to the same question with you. If it is a task, do it first, then let your partner do it. Alternate who goes first with the reading of each new card. You will probably not finish all the cards in each section with the time allotted.

1. Take four minutes and tell your partner your life story in as much detail as possible.

2. Tell your partner something that you like about them already.

3. Share with your partner an embarrassing moment in your life.

4. If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? Why haven't you told them yet?

5. If you were going to have a personal relationship with your partner, please share what would be important for him or her to know

6. What would constitute a "perfect" evening for you?

REMINDER TO FOLLOW SPECIFIC INSTRUCTIONS: [Insert card for control group, yes only group, no only group, or yes and no group].

Control Group

At the beginning of today's experiment you and your partner were both given specific instructions. This is a brief reminder for you to keep sharing with your partner and to let them keep sharing with you.

Yes Only Group

At the beginning of today's experiment you and your partner were both given specific instructions.

This is a brief reminder that the best way to get very close to your partner is by saying yes to sharing yourself fully and letting them say yes to sharing with you.

No Only Group

At the beginning of today's experiment you and your partner were both given specific instructions. This is a brief reminder that the best way to not get too close to your partner is by saying no to the degree to which you share with each other.

Yes and No Group

At the beginning of today's experiment you and your partner were given specific instructions. This is a brief reminder that the best way for you to get close to your partner is for you to say yes to fully sharing and that the for the best way for you to not get too close is for you to say no to the degree of sharing that you do.

7. Alternate sharing something you find attractive in your partner; include the way he or she looks, dress and his or her personality. Share a total of 10 items each.

8. For what in your life do you feel most grateful?

9. If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one ability or quality, what would it be?

10. How close and warm is your family? Do you feel your childhood was happier than most other people's?

11. What is your most treasured memory?

12. What is your most terrible memory?

13. If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or the body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?

14. What is the greatest accomplishment of your life?

HALF-HOUR BREAK; CHANGE TO NEXT SET OF CARDS

15. When did you last sing to yourself? To someone else?

16. Is there something that you've dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven't you done it?

REMINDER TO FOLLOW SPECIFIC INSTRUCTIONS: At the beginning of today's experiment you and your partner were both given specific instructions to follow. This is just a brief reminder to keep following those instructions. Thank you!

17. If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future, or anything else, what would you want to know?

18. Share a personal problem and ask your partner's advice on how he or she might handle it. Also, ask your partner to reflect back to you how you seem to be feeling about the problem you have chosen to share.

19. Name 3 things you and your partner appear to have in common.

20. Would you like to be famous? In what way?

21. If you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living? Why?

22. Of all the people in your family, whose death would you find most disturbing? Why?

23. Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say? Why?

24. Your house, containing everything you own, catches fire; after saving your loved ones and pets, you have time to safely make a final dash to save any one item. What would it be? Why?

25. Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as your dinner guest?

HOUR BREAK; CHANGE TO NEXT SET OF CARDS

26. Make 3 true "we" statements each. For instance, "We are both in this room feeling …"

REMINDER TO FOLLOW SPECIFIC INSTRUCTIONS: At the beginning of today's experiment you and vour partner were both given specific instructions to follow. This is just a brief reminder to keep following those instructions. Thank you!

27. Tell your partner what you like about them; be very honest this time saying things that you might not usually say to someone you've just met.

28. What do you value most in a relationship?

29. If you wanted to look very sexy, how would you dress?

30. What roles do love and affection play in your life?

31. Role play with your partner how you would ask them out for a date. Have your partner reflect back to you how it makes them feel to be asked.

32. Complete the sentence: "I wish I had someone with whom I could share …"

33. Pretend you are in a play with your partner. In this particular scene the director has asked you to tell your partner that you are interested in having more than a casual relationship with them; that you are beginning to fall in love with them Your partner will also be pretending with you in this play and they are to tell you how it feels to be asked to move into a more meaningful relationship.

34. Spend three minutes in complete silence with your partner, making only eye contact.

35. When did you last cry in front of another person? By yourself?

36. If you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be?

37. How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?

38. Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?

39. What does love mean to you?

40. What, if anything is too serious to be joked about?

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