#I do know he can only do magic with his staff and not directly so maybe something to do with that ? Like the staff gets it’s magical energy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

deafsignifcantother · 3 months

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if music be the food of love

♥ relationships: aroace Alastor x deaf female reader (queerplatonic) ♥ word count: 2.1k ♥ warnings: reader got hurt by someone they loved before death, reader is shorter than him, bickering, reader loves tea, lonesome reader, alastor invading space ♥ my idea is that reader has a small stereo on her chest that lets out classical music based on her mood. I imagine that it comes from both her chest (softly) and the outside of her manor (loud as fuck). matching pinterest board

Your manor is only visible to the town when the lights are on a tall hill and covered in trees. However, even if all the lights were off, people would at least know it's there.

There are two reasons: the tale and the music.

Tale, a story for the newcomers. They speak of a demon who plays music all day, doomed to play music forever. Oh, the music. The music can be heard from even miles away.

It's refined and dainty, and it reeks of misery. The classical music never seems to repeat itself; it goes on and on and on and on. The demons hear you only through your music. When you cry, the violins and cellos grow with a cruel crescendo. When you sleep, the music is soft, almost quiet. Everyone comes to an understanding, assumption, that if the music were to stop, you would be dead.

The demons who try to step closer to your manor will find themselves experiencing unfathomable sorrow and guilt. The sound of your music is the demonic ability you possess, and it's out of your control. Due to the sadness of your death, you are forced into misery in the afterlife. When you were alive, those you loved and devoted yourself to only broke your heart.

Everybody affected by your music feels that grief.

Alastor doesn't understand why people fear your manor. Your love-related pain doesn't affect him at all.

He starts up the hill, moving both on his feet and through the shadows. On his way to your manor, he focuses on the landscape. The landscape is beautiful; the forest below is so dense that the red sky disappears. Personally, he loves the music. He loves tuning in on you and hearing how you're doing. He sparsely gets to visit, so hearing the song of your heart is always so welcoming.

The worst thing to him is how long the damn walk is.

You're in your house, passing through the dining room, when the lights flicker. The people from the nearby town stutter when the usual sad music suddenly becomes upbeat.

Opening the door, you are greeted by Alastor's traditional smile. You're the one that initiates the hug. He gently wraps his hand around you, only for a short time before he pulls away and establishes his distance.

"Long time no see, my dear." He signs, his claws adding a flare to the simple signs. Truthfully, his sign for "my dear" translates directly to "sweetheart," which he's aware of, just putting faith into you understanding what he means.

"I'll start some tea." You sign, turning immediately to the kitchen.

He smiles at the jazz sneaking its way into your music. The people outside know what it means.

Alastor looks around at the new decor; the place is different every time he enters. It's all the things that you enjoyed when you were alive. That's what is most noticeable about you beyond the aura you possess and how stuck you are to the past; you refuse to acknowledge your situation, which is both a curse and a blessing.

From the kitchen counter, you look at him, seeing him behind you, his staff out of his hands.

He leans a bit forward. "I have news! Have you heard of the new buzz, the new project from the princess of hell?"

A small smile forms. "Charlie?" You remember many years ago when she appeared at your door, in tears due to your involuntary magic, begging you to teach her ASL. You politely declined, though you wrote her a long paper about Deaf Culture (often derailing to rant about your opinion on common debates/crazy events). You've never seen her again, but you're confident she's read it.

You continue, "Her projects are... sweet?"

"Sweet and quite peculiar. She believes that demons can be redeemed. How absurd!" His smile grows, his eyes squinting in interest. He knows you're devoted to being good and staying away from violence. He's here to convince you to join her cause.

"Fascinating," you can't help but show your pure astonishment. "She's on our side."

"Oh, how kind you are!"

The tea is ready. You turn entirely away from Alastor, and he lets you. Your thoughts are apparent; he has spent weeks excited about this conversation. He's absolutely fighting the urge to spill out every argument he has; he wants to mention that if you participate, you'll see each other daily. That hasn't even crossed your mind yet.

You pour the tea and take your time, a little nervous to continue the convo. Alastor's eyes remain on your frame, your casual clothing. The last time he saw you, you were dressed up despite spending your days alone.

You hand a cup to him. Neither sign; you stand still, staring at each other and drinking. Both of you already know what the other will try to say next. Your eyes are deep in thought while he is locked on you. The only reason you are doubting being involved with everything yourself is that you know your aura makes others depressed. It is not very good, isolating. On the opposite stance, Alastor always noticed how your music gets positive whenever he's around. He knows (guesses) that in the hotel, with his presence, your saddening demeanor would be no more.

He moves abruptly, you follow, and he sits on a heavily cushioned couch, dipping deeply, which makes him smile. Your soft smile grows—more piano.

"What are your thoughts?" He prompts with one hand. You take a very long sip of your tea before putting it down.

"I wouldn't make them feel comfortable," you explain. "That's all I think about."

"Ever so pessimistic, my dear. You never know unless you come to visit. What do you say?" He grabs his mic and jokingly reaches it to your face, "A simple visit?"

You put a hand to your temple. "My love," you sign without noticing how his lids droop in comfort, "do you really think I would belong?"

He puts his hand to his chin in faux thought. "Of course I do! The princess will approach you with open arms."

You let out a small, broken groan. You're not going to be winning this little debate. Alastor's going to be able to rebuttal everything you say. Knowing that, why is it still so hard to give in?

You put your hands in your lap before returning them to your temples. His smile grows, and the static radiating off him grows ever so prominent, tickling your skin. You look up at him when you notice the change in the air.

The way he looks at you gives away his intentions. He is standing tall in his usual formal way in his seat, but his eyes are ever so casual. He gazes at you more than anything. His smile is still wide and prideful.

You wiggle a finger at him. "Ah."

He squints.

You continue, "You want to see me more, don't you?"

"Who wouldn't?" He plays off, shrugging. "Your captivating presence has every demon in hell dropping their jaws agape."

"Youuuuuu," you smile mischievously, "you want to see me more."

He continues to wave his hands. "Your accusations are futile, go ahead and fill your pretty head with things such as affection," his shoulders bounce as he chuckles, "dreams about how I miss you."

A breathless laugh leaves your lips. Rather than continue the teasing, you let the positive atmosphere linger in the air. You lift your chin with confidence. "Practically admitting it."

"I know what you want me from me." He signs. You smile at how he interpreted it. You don't bother responding. Instead, you give him a sly smile and lift your cup, taking another long sip; his bottom eyelid is twitching.

The last time he saw you, he signed you many compliments and even danced with you to the rhythm of your music. He let you put your hand on his face as he leaned his forehead against yours.

Admittedly, you only started teasing him because you wanted him to tell you that he missed you. Obviously, he did. You didn't expect him to be so stubborn about it.

When you don't respond, he continues. "When I'm here, your heart sings in happiness."

You nod and sign with one hand. "Very true."

"Well, I find the sound lovely."

"Very appreciated."

You watch as he leans back and crosses his legs, lifting and finishing the teacup. You both spend a few seconds without conversation, just looking at each other. In an attempt to hide how flustered you are starting to look, you lean your head back and gulp down the tea to the point where the cup is hiding your face. But you can only keep it in that position for a short time. After finishing the drink, you place it back down, finding that Alastor is already sitting with his fingers intertwined and waiting for you. His eyes sparkle.

"My dear, I missed you very much." And as quickly as the affection comes, it disappears. "I must give the little lady what she wants. There, are you happy?"

"I missed you too, Alastor. Thank you for coming up again."

Sappy, sappy, sappy. Will you agree to return to the hotel with him now?

He straights his bowtie and stands. "My dear, I'm afraid our time here will be cut short; I have a hotel to show you, don't I?"

You stay seated, just eyeing him. Peer pressure, you sigh and try not to roll your eyes. A simple nose exhaling is enough to show him how you feel.

He leans his head to the side. "Is there anything I can do to convince you?"

You finally stand and meet his eyes. His eyes are gorgeous; you love the way he looks at you. He doesn't take his eyes off you when you step close to him. Your hands reach for his overcoat, and you adjust it fruitlessly, only wanting an excuse to touch him.

You smile. "I can cook you something for your long trip back."

"Our."

"Your."

You both lean in, smiles straining.

He tries again. "Our."

"Biscuits, I assume," you turn your heels and motion for him to follow you. The motion you make is beckoning, and when you flick your wrist, he grabs it and pulls you into him. He lets you go to see your response. Your heart is beating out of your chest. You fall for people too easily. His touch is demanding, yet his face is calm, and with how close he is, all you can do is stare up at him. Your feet stumble a bit to adjust to your new stance. He will fight tooth and nail to get you to follow him back; throughout his days, he always wonders what you're doing and your music might sound like. He'll close his eyes and try to imagine the melody in moments of silence at the hotel.

You can't find yourself stepping back. "I'm perfectly okay with where I am." A lie. "Nobody will bother me if I'm out here."

"And nobody will bother you when you're next to me, get it?" After he signs, both of his hands hold your cheeks. He tilts your head back and forth to try and lighten the mood that's getting a little serious.

You try to hold his wrists and pull his hands down, but he fights against you. He lifts your face so he can look at you head-on. The waist bends his body; he curls himself up to you. Your touch falls to his sleeves and then moves to his biceps, your fingers grazing him gently.

The music is fast-paced, like your heart. It sounds almost angelic, a new ethereal sound surrounding it.

"Okay," you fold but then immediately chew on the inside of your lip.

"Perfect!" He presses his forehead to yours quickly before pulling away. He's taking this win. He turns and eyes the room, motioning. "Packing anything?"

With a small sigh of defeat, you place your hands on your temples again. What would you even need? Like a spoiled child, you realize that if you did need something in particular, Alastor would get it for you. You smiled and shook your head to yourself. "I don't think I need anything at all."

"Spectacular!" Another dramatic sign. "Come along then." The fast twirling of his staff blows air onto you when you start to walk behind him, eyeing how his fingers twist. His head turns as he glances at you from the corner of his eye, his head dipping as his smile widens. The static in the air becomes thicker.

You take a deep breath. If you can say 'I told you so' to him, you will be bringing it up until the end of time. He knows that, so it's good that he's confident in himself and his deductions. He'll ensure you won't be leaving and isolating yourself any longer.

#x deaf reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #x reader

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powdermelonkeg · 4 months

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Archwizard Gale lore???

Okay, SO! My personal headcanons for Gale's powers, both as archwizard and Chosen of Mystra, are based upon the following:

D&D makes a distinction between "archmage" and "archwizard," with the former being a spellcaster dedicated to the arcane arts and either: the counsel of royalty, a lich tyrant, or a reclusive hermit, all with multiple apprentices, and the latter being "an arcane spellcaster of extremely high power who successfully claimed a floating enclave," that specification coming from the time of Netheril.

Gale is NOT royal counsel, NOT pursuing lichdom, NOT a hermit (willingly), does NOT have apprentices when he first makes the claim, and does NOT have a floating enclave.

Despite these, he still claims "archwizard" as a title. This is significant, especially from Waterdeep, where the most powerful wizards in the world gather, including Laeral Silverhand (another of Mystra's Chosen, immortal to a degree, and Open Lord of Waterdeep) and Vajra Safahr (current Blackstaff and Archmage of Waterdeep).

Bonus points for his significance, he is Gale of Waterdeep. His personally chosen moniker marks him as outstanding among Waterdhavians. There might be a handful of people named Gale in Waterdeep, but there is only one Gale of Waterdeep. This is further backed up by Lorroakan recognizing him, with his only reason for Gale being lesser than someone who supposedly figured out immortality being that Gale was Mystra's discarded lapdog.

Gale is skilled in all manner of magic. This is confirmed directly in his epilogue, where you can question him about his choice teaching the School of Illusion, and he says that he wanted to teach ALL the classes there, but the staff told him no. That includes schools you wouldn't normally associate with him, like Divination and Necromancy.

Based on all of that, I've decided that "archwizard," as Gale means it, is a term referring to a wizard who's multiclassed into all their subclasses.

Does this make him overpowered? Yes. But he's an archwizard, prodigy, and Chosen, he's MEANT to be within the bounds of his own lore.

In addition, I also believe him to be an untrained Storm Sorcerer, based upon the following:

Sorcerers and wizards differ in that sorcerers know magic intrinsically, while wizards study it to use it.

When talking to Halsin as Origin Gale, you can tell him that as a baby, you summoned a whole pack of rabbits. Presumably, baby Gale was NOT reading and comprehending arcane textbooks.

Gale has an intrinsic understanding of the Weave, by his own admission, saying he could compose it rather than just control it. He was also casting third level spells like Fireball at eight years old.

Gale's theme is all about storms: his name is Gale, he occasionally says "A rough tempest I will raise" in combat, almost all his official art has him controlling lightning, and his robe is thunder purple. This continues into God!Gale's design, where he has literal glowing lightning bolts framing his eyes, and his outfit is lightning blue.

K'ha'ssji'trach'ash: On his own, the mephit is pretty self-contained; it's a magma mephit capable of revealing the true form of a True Ressurection scroll. However, the key to getting him to do this is to respond to the question "what is my name" in Ignan with the correct answer. After which, K'ha'ssji'trach'ash says "T'i n'uthrantha m'ahthra Gale." We don't know what this means, but it's clear that he's talking to us, about Gale, possibly thanking us or asking us to pass a message along. This implies that he doesn't speak Common, or else he would, because we answered correctly. Why do I bring this up? Storm Sorcerers have an innate ability called Wind Speaker, which allows them to speak Primordial (including Aquan, Auran, Ignan, and Terran). Thus, Gale can speak to/understand K'ha'ssji'trach'ash, despite his known/studied languages being Common, Celestial, Giant, and Draconic.

Because he's untrained, and rather than Storm Sorcery being just a Lv1 flavor bit that does little, I've decided that Gale has access to the class features of Storm Sorcery without access to its spell slots or Metamagic, that way it's reflective of his power without training.

With both of these conclusions, both archwizard and sorcerer, I've decided to pick and choose which class features are from which iteration of both classes, because BG3 and official D&D have a few key differences that were mostly changed for gameplay reasons. I've then taken those and added more flavor to them, based on the already-given flavor of D&D and effects of BG3, doing away with the mechanical side of things for storytelling reasons.

On top of this, because the maximum level you can reach in BG3 is Lv12, and we know that the Orb consumes "the greatest of [his] talents," I've decided that the Orb consumes any ability beyond Lv12 until its removal.

That being said, beyond whatever spells and slots you care to give him, the powers I think Gale has pre-tadpole are:

Abjuration

Arcane Ward: When Gale casts Abjuration spells, residual magic shields him from the worst of incoming hits

Projected Ward: Gale can extend Arcane Ward to someone nearby instead of himself

Improved Abjuration: On short rest, Gale can strengthen Arcane Ward to sustain itself beyond a single hit

Evocation

Sculpt Spells: Gale can control his Evocation spells and keep them from harming allies

Potent Cantrip: Gale can force enemies that resist his cantrips to take half damage from them anyways

Empowered Evocation: Gale's Evocation spells are particularly deadly (based on +INT modifier to damage rolls)

Necromancy

Grim Harvest: Gale can harness the power released when a spell kills a creature to heal himself, UNLESS it's undead or a construct

Undead Thralls: Animate Dead: Gale can reanimate a corpse

UT: Additional Undead: Gale can efficiently harness the power it would take to reanimate one corpse to reanimate two corpses with Animate Dead

UT: Better Summons: Gale's reanimated dead can take more of a beating than others' dead

Inured to Undeath: Gale's been exposed to necromancy enough that he's resistant to necrotic damage, and his life force capacity can't be reduced (this one in particular helps with the "Netherese bile" flowing through his veins)

Conjuration

Create Water: Gale can call forth rain at will (BG3's feature over D&D's to align more with storm sorcery)

Benign Transposition: Teleport: Gale can teleport up to 30ft, and can use that to swap places with an ally

Focused Conjuration: Gale's concentration on conjuration spells can't break due to pain

Enchantment

Hypnotic Gaze: So long as Gale holds eye contact with someone, he can charm them into stopping everything they're doing and staring at him in a daze

Instinctive Charm: Reflexively, Gale can make a split-second charm attempt to redirect an attack at someone directly nearby

Split Enchantment: Gale can efficiently harness the power it would take to enchant one person and instead enchant two targets at once

Divination

Portent: Gale can focus and gain split-second glimpses into the immediate future (such as the next blow about to be thrown in a fight)

Expert Divination: Casting divination comes naturally enough to Gale that he can cast divination spells using a lower spell slot

Third Eye: Gale can increase his powers of perception and gain a very limited Darkvision/Ethereal vision at will, as well as read any language

Illusion

Improved Minor Illusion: Gale can cast illusory effects with incredible ease

See Invisibility: Gale's experience with illusions lets him detect invisibility spells at work, focus on them, and see through them

Illusory Self: Gale can create an identical double of himself reflexively to confuse opponents

Transmutation

Experimental Alchemy: Using transmutation magic, Gale can more efficiently refine potion ingredients, occasionally enough to create a second potion

Transmuter's Stone: Gale can lock some of his transmutation magic into a stone, granting whoever holds it an effect of his choice from the following: Constitution proficiency, Darkvision, extra speed, resistance to acid/cold/fire/lightning/thunder damage

Shapechanger: Gale can polymorph himself once a day without consuming a spell slot (only into beasts with a CR of 1 or less)

Storm Sorcery

Wind Speaker: Gale can speak, read, and write Primordial (Aquan, Auran, Ignan, and Terran)

Tempestuous Magic: Gale can summon gusts of wind around him immediately after casting a spell greater than a cantrip. These winds are strong enough to propel him in flight for ten feet

Heart of the Storm: Gale has resistance to lightning and thunder damage. In addition, whenever he casts a spell that deals lightning or thunder damage, the magic that erupts is stormy and more powerful than other kinds of magic at equal level

Storm Guide: Gale can subtly control the weather around him, causing rain to stop falling in a 20 foot sphere centered on him, or wind to blow in a different direction in a 100 foot sphere centered on him

Feats

These are based on what I, personally, think make the most sense for him pre-tadpole:

Ability Increase: +2 to INT score

Elemental Adept: Thunder: Spells/attacks ignore resistance to thunder, and when a spell he casts causes thunder damage, it can't critically fail

Elemental Adept: Lightning: Spells/attacks ignore resistance to lightning, and when a spell he casts causes lightning damage, it can't critically fail

Okay, so Gale's crazy powerful, right? What could he have possibly lost that's greater than all this?

Well...

Abjuration: Spell Resistance: Gale was in tune enough with the Weave that he could resist spells (as well as gaining advantage on saving throws against them)

Evocation: Overchannel: Gale could deal maximum damage on a 1-5 level spell without ill effect on first cast, but suffered unresisted necrotic damage when using it again

Necromancy: Command Undead: Gale could bring undead made by other wizards under his control

Conjuration: Durable Summons: Gale could give anything he summoned a temporary shield against damage (30 temp HP)

Enchantment: Alter Memories: Gale could make someone unaware they were charmed by him, as well as make them forget something that happened during that charmed period

Divination: Greater Portent: Gale used to be able to predict more split second decisions ahead with ease

Illusion: Illusory Reality: Gale used to be able to pull shadow magic together into illusions and make them, temporarily, real. He can still do a limited version of this, but only via concentration to keep the threads together (hence the "anatomically correct" illusory wizard in the Drow twins scene; shadow magic is NOT the same as the Shadow Weave)

Transmutation: Master Transmuter: Gale could consume magic stored in his transmuter's stone in one go, using it to transmute one object into another, remove curses, diseases, and poisons, raise the dead, or reduce a creature's apparent age by up to 30 years

Storm Sorcery: Storm's Fury: Gale could react with lightning damage when struck physically Wind Soul: Gale was immune to lightning and thunder damage, could fly at a speed of 60 feet, and could reduce his flying speed to 30 feet for 1 hour to make four additional people fly

Yeah. Ouch. And that's not even including his former Chosen abilities.

Gale's Chosen abilities

Silver Fire: Gale could command pure energy of the Weave in the form of silver-white flame, which, at his command, could destroy anything in its path, banish dead magic areas, restore torn Weave, purge external magic and psionic effects from his own body, teleport without error to the last location he used the ability at, or cast spells without verbal, somatic, or material components

Mantle: Gale could cast the dangerous Mantle spell without suffering any ill effects, while other wizards casting the spell would suffer a drain of life force as long as it persisted

Weave Detection: Gale could detect magic's presence without the use of a spell

Weave Tapping: Gale could cast high level spells repeatedly without losing a spell slot, although this was discouraged by Mystra

On the page for Mystra's Chosen abilities, it says that sometimes her Chosen gained an immunity to magic, as well as disease and poison. I don't think Gale was so lucky, however; in the House of Healing, he mentions that he once turned himself in to a hospice in Waterdeep for a "bout of ruddy pox." Him having turned himself in implies he was an adult at the time, and should, therefore, already be Mystra's Chosen.

All that to say: behold, Gale of Waterdeep, in his original splendor. How the mighty have fallen.

#bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #long post #ask bee #the neat thing about the storm sorcery stuff is that it's JUST close enough in proximity to what gale's already capable of #that he probably didn't even give it a second thought #he can fly at lv18? he could fly at 8yo. doesn't matter #lightning and thunder immunity? well mystra's chosen get magical immunity sometimes. must be that!#his lightning/thunder spells are stronger? they're his specialties! he studied those!#i love it

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harlivy-timkon-supremacy · 1 year

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GUYS CAN WE **PLEASE** TALK ABOUT THIS

DO YOU GUYS KNOW WHAT DAMIAN GAVE TO EACH OF HIS FELLOW BAT SIBLINGS??? Because these are all real established items in DC canon!!

I’m going to work my way back from Dick, because, OMG.

Damian gave Dick the Sword of Sin. If that sounded vaguely familiar to you, you might be an Azrael fan because that is his preferred blade to use. What is so special about this sword??? It’s ability: The Sword of Sin can be ignited with the mind of the wielder, if the person is powerful enough. The sword has the ability to conjure in the mind of its victims all of the sins for which they are guilty or have not atoned for. Golly gee, I wonder who this might be super effective against. You know. Giant bat guy with a guilt complex bigger than Texas. You can bet your butt Dick is going to send Bruce through a series of ‘Nam war flashbacks before this series is over. I can absolutely see why Damian would give Dick this weapon here, as he’s known Bruce the longest. I can easily see what part in this story Dick is going to be playing as he clearly has the most directly effective weapon against Batman. Damian’s favoritism here is both sweet and a little cruel if you think about the context much.

Now let’s talk about Stephanie’s weapon, and yes she very much is Damian’s older sibling even if she isn’t a Wayne. Damian gave her the Coup-Stick of Black Bison (A DC Super Villain.) What can this staff do??? The mystical power of the coup-stick can animate material objects and in so doing, command these objects to do its bidding. This power cannot affect living biological material, but can affect non-living organic tissue. Black Bison once used the coup-stick to re-animate the stuffed remains of a white stallion (as well as other animals). Black Bison has also used the coup-stick to control the weather, such as summoning a strong wind to deflect attackers. Guys Damian gave Stephanie a weapon that will allow her to call on back-up, and COMMAND her own creations, a weapon that allows her to be a leader!! Something she has wanted for a long time??? Also, it sounds like it has the power to control the weather??? Damian really said #girlboss and how much he loves her without actually saying it. I cannot stress enough how well DC could do her justice in this series if they at least tried.

Now, wow. Damian really straight up gave Jason’s dramatic ass the actual Trident of Poseidon, which is an unbreakable weapon that that serves as an extension of the wielder’s own power. Damian really gave Jason not only a King’s weapon, but a godly weapon. What other powers it has might not be relevant to whatever power it might awaken with Jason as its wielder. Damian really cut out the middle man and just said, “Look, you are stupidly strong. I’m going to give you a stupidly strong weapon. Have at ye!” And you know Jason is going to wield that thing like he’s Poseidon, rightful ruler of the sea. I literally cannot wait to see Jason just absolutely power-housing his way through whatever gets in his way.

Lastly, but not least in the slightest, Damian gave Tim the Cloak of Cagliostro! Which I want to acknowledge right off the bat, 🎶one of these things is not like the others~🎶 And thank Rao for that, because: The Cloak of Cagliostro is a magical item which allows the wearer to teleport, and to become intangible, and invisible. That is the *cutest* Easter Egg ever! Gotham Knights acknowledgement of Tim’s teleporting anyone????? Tim was the only one Damian gave a defensive weapon, and not an offensive weapon to. And that makes sense, because Tim is a defensive fighter! Tim never has to be the strongest person in the room. He just needs to be clever enough to use what he knows to win. Instead of giving him a weapon to swing around, Damian gave him something that Tim could use to protect himself, and actively use to make ALL of his skillsets stronger, not just his fighting power!!! This! Is! NOT! Damian looking down on Tim or considering him weaker. He’s playing to Tim’s strengths! He literally gave his big brother a cloak that straight up is like a cheat-code of meta-powers that would suit Tim SO WELL, because he knows Tim will be able to use those abilities to bullshit levels of effectiveness!!

It genuinely looks like thought went into what weapons each of the Robins were given. I know fanon likes to bash on Damian or bash on his relationship to his siblings, or vice-versa, but in canon it has been clear for some time now that Damian considers all former and current Robins his family. (Including Tim. He refers to Tim as Timothy nowadays, and calls him his brother, that’s not fanon) No matter if Damian is not himself right now, he’s genuinely looking out for all of their best interests, and is ensuring that each one of them is as well-equipped as possible.

Regardless, genuinely curious to see how each of these weapons will be used by their respective Robins, and how this will all end up. Hopefully, it ends with a giant group hug that will break the internet. (Also, ngl, I hope if Tim gets a new superhero identity soon his new suit will play off of Gotham Knight’s Tim’s abilities or be based off this cloak. Just think that would be neat ✨)

#batfam #batman #robin #damian wayne #dick grayson #stephanie brown #jason todd #tim drake #batman vs robin #gotham knights #meta analysis #nightwing #red hood #the spoiler #dc comics #bruce wayne #also I got my info on the weapons from dc wiki #still reeling over how cool this stuff is #comic spoilers

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blues824 · 5 months

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Its 💗🌸 /Rosa / @toconolaw ^×^

Staff doing secret Santa with magic music arts teacher s/o! But some how teacher s/o's twk familiar which are chinchillas that gets a bit aggressive/ jealous!!

You requested: Secret Santa

The Wiki said Vargas is shorter than Sam 💀

Dire Crowley

The fact that you’re married to this man was mysterious enough. However, you had asked about a possible Secret Santa amongst the staff to add some more mystery to the pot. The rest of the staff members agreed, and so all your names were put into a hat, and you drew a name. You had gotten Professor Mozus Trein, and you immediately noted that you might want to go to a pet store to get some treats for Lucius.

One stipulation in this Secret Santa game was that you put a charm on the hat so that neither you nor your husband could choose each other. After all, you both knew each other quite well, so it would be cheating. After everyone drew their names, you immediately went to Sam’s shop with your chinchilla. If there was anyone who would have what you needed, it would be him.

You actually ran into Crowley there, and who his gift was for was rather obvious, as he was purchasing some protein powder. Once you had purchased everything you were going to, which included new inkwells and a crystal pen, along with catnip, your husband had extended his arm to you. You put your hand in the crook of his elbow, and your familiar hopped from your shoulder to his. It took years for the little animal to even let your husband touch you, but now it seems you both have to fight over him.

Leaning your head on his free shoulder, you spoke to him.

“I love you, Dire Crowley.”

Now, he had a bit of a quirk about him. He never says ‘I love you’ directly back. He says it’s ‘too simple’. Instead, he would say something poetic, and it made your heart flutter every single time.

“In the musical tapestry of our connection, your presence is a delicate arpeggio that dances through the notes of my heart, composing a ballad only the two of us can hear.”

With that you both kissed each other, starting to head back to his office, where the wrapping paper and ribbons that you needed for the gifts were.

Divus Crewel

Being wed to this man meant a life of elegance. He wouldn’t let you settle for anything less. That being said, you were also a professor at NRC, and since you were a staff member, you proposed in the staff meeting that you all do a Secret Santa of sorts. Crewel was all for it… until you put a spell on the hat that would prevent you and him from getting one another. You pulled Sam’s name, and you had to admit that you were completely stumped.

Luckily, your chinchilla has been around, and it learned Sam’s favorite food. That being said, you needed to go to the town below NRC to get the ingredients necessary to make the chicken gumbo that your friend loved so much. Your husband went with you, and a few people paused in the street upon seeing you both, such an elegant and beautiful couple, doing such domestic things… or maybe it was your familiar.

Now, once you got to the grocery store, you both separated so that you could get the things you both required. You had no idea who Divus had gotten, and he did not want you to know until the day you would give everyone their presents. In addition to all the stuff you purchased, you bought some dried fruit for your animal.

You both headed to your apartment, where you started making a huge pot of chicken gumbo. Your husband came up from behind you and put his hands on your hips, pulling your back flush against his chest.

“I love you, honey~” You sang softly, before starting to hum as you put all the chopped veggies into the big pot on the stove.

The chinchilla you grew to love climbed from your shoulder to his, and all the way to the top of his head.

“I love you too, darling,” He leaned down to place a kiss on your temple, but the chinchilla sitting on the top of his head pulled a strand of his hair.

He let out a yelp of pain before removing the animal and placing it back on your shoulder, where it was giving him a death glare that could probably kill a very weak human. He mumbled about how jealous the familiar got, and you just let out a laugh.

Ashton Vargas

To be this man’s spouse meant that you probably had a very active lifestyle, or you knew where to duck away to hide from his “couple’s workouts”. Luckily, your chinchilla often took your place. Anyway, at the staff meeting, you proposed that you do a Secret Santa, and Vargas agreed with that idea. Even when you put a spell on the hat that prevented you from getting one another, it was fine. You pulled Divus Crewel’s name, and you had a few ideas that came to mind for your gift to him.

You had to go to town, however, and your husband did not like you going alone. He was a tad worried that something was going to happen to you, so you strolled down the street with your guard dog and guard chinchilla privileges. You decided to get Professor Crewel some gift cards for a new restaurant that has opened up recently. He told you that he was considering going, and maybe he could come back and tell you if the place is a good date location.

Ashton got Crowley, and so you both just went around town to see what he would like. Personally, you would have loved to give him a knuckle sandwich for pushing all of his responsibilities on one of your beloved students, who you viewed as your own children. However, you settled on getting him dumbbells, so maybe he would have a chance to catch the hands you’re going to throw.

Boarding the bus that would take you back to NRC, along with a bunch of students, the Coach that you happened to love pulled you onto his lap, surprising you. You were incredibly embarrassed as a few students started to whisper, but he wasn’t letting you go. Your chinchilla tried to bite him, but nothing came of it.

“Coach Vargas, if you don’t let me go right now, there will be consequences when we get home!” You exclaimed.

However, your husband broke out the puppy-dog eyes. A groan of annoyance made its way out of your mouth before you finally stopped struggling against him, and you resigned yourself to your fate.

“I love you, baby,” The mere amount of love in that sentence made you melt, placing a kiss on his cheek in response. A few nearby students, who you both taught, by the way, started ‘awwww’ing, making you even more embarrassed than before.

“Shush, you! Otherwise you all get detention and you have to help me grade assignments!” A smile was on your face as you made this threat, as you weren’t completely serious. This also made the students laugh, as well as your husband.

Mozus Trein

You two had grown close because of Lucius. Normally, Trein would never be interested in someone so young, as he was nearing the age of 60 and you were in your 30’s. However, your music lured his cat, and as you played the piano, Lucius plopped himself on your lap. A few years later, you were married, and you found yourself in the staff room during a meeting, and you proposed a Secret Santa so as to get into the holiday spirit. Names were drawn, and you had picked Coach Vargas.

Again, a few ideas came to mind on what you could get him, but a lot of them required you going to town. Your husband also had to go, so you decided to go together. Luckily for you, you were able to head to the fitness section and get what you needed. You also called into a high-end gym in the area and you asked if you could purchase a day-pass for a friend, and they let you..

Mozus headed to the stationery section of the store, and you had two guesses on the names he picked out. Your chinchilla was chilling on your shoulder as you made it through checkout, texting your husband to meet you in the square once he was finished. You then headed to the meeting location, enjoying the scenery and the different people that were in the town.

It didn’t take long for him to meet you there, and he also got some other stuff for when you both headed back home for the holidays. You had another Secret Santa thing going on with your step-daughters and your sons-in-law. The older professor took the animal from your shoulder and placed it on his as he held his hand out to you to help you off the bench.

“What a gentleman~ Thank you, darling.” You said as you stood. He lifted your hand to his lips to place a kiss on your knuckle.

“It would be wrong to teach our students to be something that I’m not,” You both started walking to the bus that would take you back to NRC.

“I love you, Mozus Trein,” You said.

“I love you, too, Y/N Trein,” He answered, a hint of a smile on his face as you place a kiss on his cheek and go to board the bus.

Sam

You were not married to Sam… yet. It all felt like a fever dream, as he had proposed to you in the most casual way possible. You both had met at the first staff meeting, where he kept writing on the corners of your notes. However, your chinchilla was not exactly happy about how you both kept giggling with another, and it even bit one of his fingers. Time skip to now, where you had an engagement ring on your finger, your chinchilla is on his shoulder, and you proposed a Secret Santa amongst the staff.

From the hat, you pulled out the name of the Headmage. Sam could see the anger in your eyes, and he was snickering because he already guessed who you got. You looked like the only thing you wanted to give Crowley was a large stick up his derrière, and that just made him burst out into laughter. He himself pulled Crewel’s name, and his friends on the other side had a few gift ideas.

Anyway, you both headed into town and walked around, window shopping. It was like a moment in a Hallmark Christmas movie, where you both kind of dance around each other, laughing and not taking anything seriously. Even though you were yet to be officially married, you were in a honeymoon phase. Well, you were always in a honeymoon phase because Sam never let the romance die out.

To get back to the Secret Santa shopping, you purchased a calendar for the next year. It wasn’t anything special. You also bought some pens, muttering about how the old crow was lucky you weren’t going to shove them down his throat. Your fiancé just laughed it off and got some gift cards for Professor Crewel.

“Are you ready, my imp?” He asked after you checked out, holding his hand out to you.

“I wish this didn’t have to end… I love finally being able to spend time with you, love.”

“Who said we were going to go back just yet? I’m not quite done with you either…” He placed a kiss on your lips, and you felt a pressure around you that you knew wasn’t coming from Sam, but rather his shadow.

“You’re not the only one, apparently,” You giggled.

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judyfromfinance · 4 months

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See You Again

(Heimdall/Reader SongFic)

I’m trying to jump back into writing for my boy again. This song has been stuck in my head and it’s so beautiful that everyone needs to hear it. This will be like an AU to my long fic “Olden Times. Modern Thinking.” It’s the same reader but anything that happens in this fic does not impact the main storyline. It’s just supposed to be a cute lil thing for y’all.

Special shout out to my queen @engardeitsme for always slaying the writing scene and being a big inspiration for me~

The song is See You Again by Tyler, The Creator ft. Kali Uchis.

You live in my dream state.

Relocate my fantasy.

It was so reckless of you to have followed Atreus to Freya’s old abandoned home. And even more so when you jumped through that vortex of ravens. When you realized they dropped you both off at the top of the wall instead of the outskirts of Asgard you knew things were going to be different than the game. Especially when you lifted your head and found yourself staring directly into the most beautiful violet galaxies to bless this world. Thank god for Santa Monica Studio.

“I don’t know who that is, but I assure you… they have nothing to do with my godly appearance.” Heimdall preened after reading your unmitigated thoughts. You should probably try to keep your thoughts under lock and key.

“You can try but I think we both know that won’t work.” He smirked down at you after he offered you a hand. Only one more thought crossed your mind as you could feel his unadulterated godly power beneath his skin. If he had wanted to, all he had to do was pull a little bit more on your hand and you’d be down an arm. Oh fuck.

Heimdall’s eyes filled up with mirth as he let go of your hand, perhaps a bit more gently then he had grabbed it.

“Yes, ‘oh fuck’ indeed.”

I stay in reality.

You live in my dream state.

It was, to put it mildly, fucking annoying to have someone be able to read your every thought. Especially when that person was a dickhead like Heimdall. Why was that prick allowed to be gorgeous? Like who gave him the right?

“You know it’s honestly quite pathetic how often your thoughts linger on me. Though I can’t blame you. I am, oh how did you put it…” he took a bite of his apple as he failed to look like he was actually thinking. “… oh right, gorgeous.” He tossed his half eaten apple aside as he smirked down at you. Eyes crinkled with amusement. You rolled your own as you shot back your own retort.

“You know it’s honestly quite pathetic how often you linger around me. Though I can’t blame you. You probably don’t get many compliments do you?” You uttered, trying to mock him. His mouth fell into a flat line as he walked closer towards you. He bent down to be closer to your height. Your eyes fell to Gjallarhorn before you quickly moved them back to meet his eyes as you made a conscious effort to not think about the game you were currently residing in. Their future.

Heimdall narrowed his eyes before immediately rolling them and standing back up to his full height. He immediately turned and walked away but not before slightly turning his head back towards you as he threw out the first backhanded compliment he’s ever given you.

“No need to be so feisty. All though your nothing compared to all the goddesses I’ve seen, you’re not too bad. For a mortal.” Despite being no where near nice, you felt your face heat up anyways. God he’s such an ass. And you fucking like him.

2020 2020 vision.

Cupid hit me, Cupid hit me with precision eye…

It’s been a week. A full week of being stuck in Asgard doing fuck all as Atreus went and did his little magic lessons with Odin. You tried to help out the staff here and there but it seemed they didn’t want you to. You couldn’t tell if it was because they saw you as a guest and therefore shouldn’t be doing chores or because they saw you as human and therefore were inept at even doing chores. Either way, you were stuck with nothing to do. Occasionally Thrud would show up to hang with you but for the most part, she also had her own things to do. So that left you alone with your thoughts.

Heimdall would often come by to annoy you. But for some reason his teasing had become more bearable. You can tell it was all on his part too. His snide remarks would hit less. He’s even slowed down on the constant reading of your thoughts. Though you don’t understand why. You huffed as you sat down on a bench just outside of a field of crops. Your mind began to wander to your home. And of all the things you were missing as your brain filled this void with music.

“…wonder if you look both ways when you cross my mind.”

The song and the beautiful music video played in your mind as you lost yourself to the beat, not knowing someone was watching it with you.

The video began to shift in your mind as you thought about the past week. Heimdall taking you on patrol so he could keep an eye on you, or so he says. You wondering out loud in the silence on why he would need to keep such a close eye on you, a measly mortal. Him not giving you an answer as he crossed his arms and looked over the New Midgard settlement. And that non-answer being answer enough for you.

You trying to find Heimdall in the humdrum of Gladsheim. Thinking about how maybe if you thought about him hard enough he might show up and whether or not that constitutes as praying. Heimdall showing up immediately after, answering your question that yes at least for him, it counts as praying. Heimdall then trying to poke fun at you by saying how none of your friends had time for you but never got to it as he saw in your mind that for some reason you came looking for him first. You frowned up at his frozen face as he backtracked and instead said if you had nothing better to do then at least be useful and help him brush Gulltoppr.

The past immediately transformed into the future in your minds eye as your heart beat quickened with images of what’s to come. Kratos, the intimidating yet kind god who took you in, pummeling Heimdall’s face into the ground.

Heimdall grasped his throat as these images played in your mind. The God Killer once again living up to his name as he squeezed the life out of him. Heimdall didn’t want to believe that was him on the ground. Couldn’t believe he was covered in his own blood. Missing an arm even. These images flashing through your mind seemed too real to be just visions of a potential future. It’s like you’ve witnessed them before. He noticed in this vision that you weren’t there when it happened. In this image you were holding onto some strange device. Your thumbs moving these strange black levers as a blue light emitted from it. There was a strong connection between you and Kratos in that moment. But before he can try to figure out what exactly was happening your mind warped once more.

You now were thinking about ways to alter this future. What could you say? What could you do? Is there anything you could do to persuade Heimdall that you didn’t want him to die? That for some ungodly reason, you actually like him and believed that he could be more than what his father wants him to be.

Heimdall felt a wave of emotions crash over him as he stared into the back of your head. He listened carefully to the next words you sung under your breath, hoping the breeze would carry them away from you, along with all the emotions tied to them. The breeze instead carried them straight to the man, the god, they were sung for.

“Can I get a kiss? And can you make it last forever?…”

Heimdall then wondered in his very long, very loyal life… if he was truly doing the right thing. He glanced towards the sky as black feathers danced together. Almost mocking him with the simple fact that he would never be able to dance with you. Not in the way you’d want him too.

“…I said I’m ‘bout to go to war. And I don’t know if ima see you again.”

No. Heimdall wouldn’t let you go to war. This war was his to fight in and his alone. He couldn’t be with you in the way he desperately wanted to. Lest you both face the ire of the All-Father. But he will make sure that you stay safe.

Heimdall turned on his heel as he left you to think. After all, he was given a mission by the All-Father. Shouldn’t be too hard, it’s only in Vanaheim after all.

Just a short and cute lil oneshot to get back in the groove~ (о´∀`о)

Taglist: @sumebuddy @sissontrinity123 @different4black @r6co @slaying69696969 @dijanur @frog-cultist @jamellemal @star-angel1 @mrsurrealism @ladysaribu @shirocchi13 @noxiemoon @fullmoonwolfer1 @forg1 @onix-a @silvergoldraeven @inky-weeaboo-weirdo14 @fandomcatchall @Imorg149 @doubledaredevil @screaming-potato @6demonica9 @einsvei @mad4hugs @oreocookie24 @lunaryasha @rustypotatospork @love-giselle @entityunbound @nixeustheclamity @majestichugs @blazingstarsblog @cheesewithasideofcheese @photos-fantasy-and-scifi @shycandykitty @photographykomiko @snoriander @lunamomos @rowanlovesmoonknight @fairytale202 @cbradio18 @fantasticcollectordefendor @coochie-crawler @booksandblanketnests @sun-bae @anything-scary @frida-oydna @couldyoutellmewhatsreal @damonsalavatore-best @tnnadia @dddraven @longshlong2 @crunchychicken1231 @multifangrell @actualhawkesworld @coralpositivityclassroomsoul @pugger775 @mr-trick @romanzpixxablog @violet2507 @bonsaijoons @the-broken-faucet @missmannequin @chaoticlandsoul @a-bunny13 @httptaegi @utterlynuts @blarba-girl @jellyedkazoo @lynn-haitani @pandoras-box2 @fugtrap

#See You Again #Heimdall/Reader SongFic #heimdall x reader #god of war ragnarok x reader #heimdall gow x reader #god of war x reader

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inaconstantstateofchange · 2 months

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Raphael/Haarlep | there is wise valour (and there is recklessness)

A/N: 18+ | a pre-canon exploration of the possible origin of Raphael's Ascended Fiend form, and the begrudging rapport between him and Haarlep.

Words: 3.4k

Read it on AO3

Raphael stalks through the halls of his House – nothing so grandiose as to deserve the epithet, yet, but he is prepared to impress his will upon the universe until it is – cringing imps scattering into the shadows as they avoid his fearsome tread. A telltale haze shimmers at the edge of his vision, overwriting the dull stonework with rippling red. The door to his personal suite looms out before him, and he scrabbles at the handle, forcing it open just enough to allow him entry, then spinning to force it closed again with a barely-tempered thud. The resolute click of the arcane locking mechanism grants him some small measure of relief.

His servants, few as they are, know not to disturb him here, so he will have his peace.

This simple and inanely optimistic certainty is broken almost immediately, with the voice of potentially the last being he desires to encounter in this moment: Haarlep, his lord father’s wretched consolation gift.

Oh, he certainly did not deign to express it as such, but the timing made the implication exactly as clear as the Archduke of Cania required. Too slow to profit as he had desired – as he had planned, painstakingly – from the fall of Netheril, and the fatuity of the fool Karsus, the Crown and its fearsome power already swept up and shelved away in the vaults of Mephistar, to be ignored or studied – then ignored again – at his father’s leisure.

“Oh dear, our little lord’s in quite a state today, is he not?” The silken tones of the incubus’s voice might be enticing to another, but they grate against Raphael’s ears like the music of a fingerless bard.

Raphael grits his teeth, refraining from digging his horns into the wood of the door before him by willpower alone. Haarlep, his father had named the wretch, an insipid mirror to reflect his every action back to Mephistar. He could not afford to be known to his father in this state.

A fit of temper was one thing. Hypocritical though he be, Mephistopheles could not deny his blood ran true in such matters. An uncontrollable beast-form, however, one twisted and warped by the broken magics of Netheril? Such knowledge would bring either disdain or interest — and a scrutiny he would not be liable to profit from in either event.

“What are you doing here?” He grinds out, refusing to turn around. Poor form, to leave his back to an enemy, but better the suspicion of weakness than the truth of it, until he can master himself as he ought.

A light, chiming laugh floats through the air like gossamer webs, undulating as the incubus steps closer to him. They run fashionably tapered claws in maddeningly delicate tapping motions down his back, between the base of his wings. He’s certain it is meant to entice, but all it does is make his skin itch and crawl, hungering for slaughter – for satiation – in a ravenous manner he has not felt before.

The desire itself is certainly not new to him, but the drive to follow through, and damn the consequences? That is more of a struggle. He’d thought the beast-form would take a mighty shape, one that would augment his own power and prestige, that he could gloat about to rivals and hold over the heads of his siblings.

Instead, he is left to feel grateful for his position of no note, that he has no true household staff to warn away from loose tongues. Only a few wretched imps, too foolish to put one brick atop another were the plans directly before them, and the incubus, its true thoughts held scrupulously behind dancing eyes. Said incubus’s vexatious tapping continues, clawtips light enough to refrain from marring even a thread of his richly embroidered tunic, but refusing to respond to the intimation of his shifting motions and leave well enough alone.

“Why, I aim only to remind my lord that I am here at his disposal, of course.” The incubus’s tone is conversational, as though they are speaking over a formal luncheon, rather than after they had barged into his own private chambers without so much as a by-your-leave. Raphael’s fingers curl against the door, leaving slight gouges this time.

The incubus is not finished, however, continuing on languidly, “We have had so little opportunity to connect, you and I, since I was first remanded into your… care.” The subtle emphasis put on the last word indicates the incubus’s cognizance that the reality was anything but, and invites him to commiserate with their shared circumstance. Raphael declines. Their situations are nothing alike, and he’ll not be condescended to by this… this… wretch.

At his limit with the damned touching now, Raphael spins away, knocking the incubus’s overreaching arm to the side. “Enough, damn you!” His voice begins as a snarl but he manages to quell it to a hiss. “Your presence is neither desired nor requested, and thus you should be anywhere at all in the estate but my private chambers.” He gestures to the door in a clear dismissal. “You may count yourself fortunate that I have more pressing matters to deal with at the moment than your insolence.”

He knows as soon as the last word leaves his lips that he’s made an error. The incubus’s eyes light up behind the graceful drape of their hair, filled with a dancing glow as its plump lips curl with keen delight. “More pressing than making use of an esteemed gift? The little lord is keeping secrets.” Its tongue flicks out, long and forked, wetting its lower lip with a glistening sheen as it draws, achingly slowly, back in.

Raphael tears his eyes away from the gallingly-enticing gleam, displeased to find that, yet again, his threats are as puffs of air to this detestable creature. He attempts to draw himself up, mantling his wings with oblique menace, and flattens his voice to a firm register. “I have no obligation to keep counsel with you, cur.”

The incubus taps one long, slender finger mockingly against its chin. “Mmmm,” it lets out a long, unnecessarily drawn out hum. “‘Obligation’? Certainly not. I would not dream of prevailing upon the goodwill of your august personage to demand as such.”

It pauses, a glimmer of sweet-edged malice drifting across its face. “However… It might behoove the little lord to indulge an ally, rather than order an adversary.”

The hellfire haze, nearly dissipated while he was not paying attention, blazes back into being around him. The beast howls within, clawing at his bones, desperate to cleave flesh and willing to settle for his own if more suitable sacrifice was not provided. Raphael grinds his teeth against the cry of pain, keeping his voice unaffected even as it feels like speaking through blades of infernal iron.

“You presume much, gift-of-my-father. Perhaps too much. Why should I seek to find an ally in one so markedly bound to higher loyalties?”

The incubus laughs, light and mocking. “Loyalties? What a precious concept. A lord must have strength enough to protect his vassals, in exchange for their loyalty.” Their friendly mien drops entirely, pinning him with a flat, piercing gaze as that damned finger taps, slow and languid, against their chin. “Thus far, I have seen no indication of any such strength from you, little lord.”

At this final expression of disrespect, the delicate webs of Raphael’s remaining self-control fracture and wisp away. A hideous sound of ripping flesh and crackling bone echoes around the room, dissipating against the sound-muffling enchantments etched into the stone. Between one interminable blink and the next, his vision doubles, then trebles, the shifting haze edging out to line the fringes of his new sightlines. He looks to the incubus standing before him in triplicate – a reflection now in truth – with fury the forenote of the increasingly bestial bent to his mind. He loosens his disjointed jaw in anticipation, and awaits the wretch’s usual twist of mockery.

Haarlep stares – up, and up – at the mangled, marvelous creature before them. So this is what their little master has been hiding since his return from the broken remnants of Netheril, bare days after their own arrival. He’d slammed back into the House like a meteor strike, a furious tempest raging throughout its halls ever since. Haarlep’s sole attempt to ingratiate themself had been met with glowering fury followed by curt dismissal, and a silent, fraught détente ever since.

That, of course, simply would not do. Perceived failure at such a level would, sooner or later, make its way back to the lord of Mephistar. And, generous though the terms of his commandment had been, none were that generous.

Haarlep had bedecked themself in their finest things, gauzy drider-silks embellished with blood-pearls and ornate, embroidered sigils, and hied away to the little lord’s personal chambers for one final attempt. Either they’d finally come to some conclusive understanding, or… Well. The consequences for a failed contract with the lord of the Eighth Layer would not be pleasant. Haarlep took pain to bed as a lover as willingly as pleasure, but even their malleable form and aberrant senses had their limits.

And, at first, it had seemed like their cause was just as lost as it had initially appeared. The stubborn little brat, refusing to treat with them as their positions demanded, to engage with the realities they were – the both of them – constrained within. They’d pushed, pressed up close to his body the way they knew he loathed, needling at him with claws and words alike, pricking about for any crack in his obdurate mask.

And then — not a crack, but a shattering entire. Emerging from the stagnant shell of the lordling was birthed a monstrosity, pure and twisted.

An agglomerate skull, eyes glowing baleful and amber from cavernous sockets. Jagged limbs unsuited for movement and coated imperfectly with dappled scale, internal fire licking out from the crevices against undefended flesh, searing and cauterizing in continuous agony. Wings, groomed and genteel mere moments before — now marred with rot and ruin, mantled in tattered shreds held in place by blackened scar tissue.

What a mess. Haarlep could understand why the little master had been so reclusive if this was the shape now lurking within him. His new form’s structure might be passingly compared to that of a cornugon, but only to a witless imbecile. The bone-plate, tarnished and burnt, bore some similarity to the lustrous ossified mail of an osyluth, but lacked entirely their ordered and brutal beauty. In truth… beneath the surface, there was truly nothing of the Hells about this form at all, but rather — something far more Abyssal in origin.

Haarlep smiles, slow and sweet, their long tongue flicking out from their mouth and dragging back the scent of the beast as it returns, a delectable sweet hint of Chaos just discernible below the rest. Their smile grows wider still as they savor it, subtle fangs bared by the action.

“Little master has been quite the naughty boy, hasn’t he? Dabbling with magics too powerful for him, perhaps? Snooping around in pilfered Netherese parlors, grasping at scraps?” They tut chidingly, shaking their head at him.

The beast huffs out a gusting breath, fetid air coursing from its maw, its blackened claws all too obvious as they raise to strike.

Haarlep coos. “How cruel of the little lord to keep this lovely surprise all to himself. Why, we could have been playing together long since.”

Silence, for a moment. Then a reverberating growl shudders from its chest, emerging as a guttural hiss from its frayed vocal cords. With a crack of over-stressed bone, the beast crouches, then springs forward, toppling them both and slamming its forelimbs down on either side of Haarlep’s head. Its bone-jaws open and chitter against one another in accompaniment to its hissing. Hot, silvery liquid drips from the base of its throat, settling in searing pearls on Haarlep’s face before streaking wincingly away.

Haarlep clucks their tongue, reaching out a hand to caress along the roughened bone of the closest skull. “You can certainly take me like this, if you’ve a mind,” they say leadingly, rolling their body languidly upward to brush against the delightful texturing of the beast-form above them. Oh, it has been too long since they’ve dealt with any of Chaos’s get. An admittedly amateur transformation, perhaps, but nothing they cannot endear themself to their little lord by offering some much-needed assistance.

The beast responds with a huff, moving toward their touch for one brief moment, then away again, the creaking of misaligned joint and bone filling the chamber with a grisly cacophony. It seems the little lord isn’t particularly accustomed to his new form’s mind yet, either. That will make some things harder — and others easier.

Haarlep rolls their body up against the beast’s once more, to regain its attention and realign its purpose. Its triune head with trebled skulls, raised to scan the room around them, swings back down to pin him with those flat, glowing eyes, set so far back in their sockets. The vision on this beast-form must be disorienting indeed.

A snarling rumble rises up from the cavernous chamber of the beast’s chest — perhaps a disdain of the presumption, or an unfamiliarity with the sensation in this form. In either case, the little lord is welcome to communicate his desires to Haarlep should he choose. Otherwise, they shall do as a good attendant ought, and attend him.

They undulate again, aiming with particular focus for the most likely location of a hidden pleasure structure, sparing a moment to hope that their rash little lordling had not botched whatever ritual he’d stumbled upon with such talent as to lose that. Haarlep could certainly make an exemplary showing without any such element present – and had upon multiple occasions in the past – but it would certainly help the situation along. After a long moment, they feel an answering pressure coming from the boiling hot area between malformed limbs, and devote particular attention to encouraging it to emerge further.

The beast, plainly feeling the results of their efforts, snarls again, its claws scraping against the stone floor and leaving deep, gouging furrows. Its central skull flashes down and fastens around Haarlep’s throat, just barely stopping before it would cause true harm. They freeze for a moment, elegant neck extended, and luxuriate in the dull prick of those rending fangs — then moan, low and throaty, relaxing into them until the prick becomes true penetration.

The beast huffs, in what resembles nothing so much as sheer bewilderment. Haarlep throws their head back in laughter, relishing the bite of the bone-tooth collar, and the gentle rivulets of blood that begin to seep steadily from the punctures. “No stomach for the devouring, have we? A pity. By all means, then, allow me.”

They slither sinuously free of the beast’s hold, loosened in its surprise, earning more tender tears from the delightful drag of fang on flesh. The beast seems fully lost in its puzzlement now, crouching back on its haunches, its budding member just beginning to poke forth from the sheath at the twisted apex of its hips. Haarlep feels their mouth water, venom pooling slick and sweet, as it emerges in jerking, ungraceful spasms. Their eyes curl up in a true smile.

“Look at you,” they croon. The cockhead is blunt and brutal, with raised ridges at irregular intervals across its surface. The shape of it tapers just under the first bullying bulk of the head, then flares outward again, with diagonal, tiered ridges forming concentric circles underneath it. It looks delectable.

They slide closer on their knees, bowing their head and letting the smooth flood of their hair fall to the side to keep the nape of their neck – and its sluggishly bleeding marks – exposed. The beast observes the motion, skulls twisting to keep them centered in its vision and mantling its tattered wings, but makes no move to dissuade them by force — a clear invitation if Haarlep has ever seen one.

They lean closer, tongue flickering out to wrap around the flat tip and taste. The beast lets out a screeching cry, contorted hips juddering forward and one hand slamming down to tear at the floor. Misshapen then, but no less sensitive for it, it seems. Haarlep retracts their tongue slowly, savoring the taste of ash and burnt sugar. All things taste saccharine to them from contact with their venom, but the overwhelming edge of conflagration on the beast adds an alluring dimension they hunger for more of. And they’ve certainly never been one to deny themself an indulgence.

Prepared this time for the response of the beast – so clearly never touched before in this form – Haarlep wraps their long fingers around it, inanely delighted by the way they nestle into the hollows created by the banding ridges. The size would be difficult to fully encircle for the average mortal, but fits the grasp of Haarlep’s long fingers near-perfectly. The beast gives another rattling cry, starting forward as the stimulation encourages forth one final pulse of the cock from its sheath, a raised nodule at the base of the cock itself tugging free from the lip of the sheath.

Haarlep hums, eyeing the little structure with consideration, then moving their thumb down to caress it with the barest edge of claw. The beast growls, and the blaze of heat about it increases as it curls forward, its skulled head coming to rest in the air just above Haarlep’s upper back. They begin to feel enshrouded in the waves of heat rolling off of the beast, caged between it and caught in the dizzying miasma of Chaos.

They send their tongue out once more, this time holding the beast still by their hand around its cock. Their tongue flickers dexterously in between their fingers and the roughened flesh of the cock itself. The beast pants above them, gusts of air teasing down along their spine. With more of that ash and cinder scent filling their senses, Haarlep widens their mouth and takes the beast’s cock within them, the blunt head rubbing pleasantly up against the back of their throat. Their venom catches and pools in the crevices on the cock’s surface, easing its glide as it enters them. They shift away their fingers bit by bit as they usher the cock into their mouth, adjusting their mouth to its size before removing the last implicit constraint on the movement of the beast.

The head catches against the opening to their throat just as the beast recognizes its freedom, chasing the sensation they’ve granted it with jerking thrusts of its hips. Haarlep angles the flexible muscle of their throat to better receive it, feeling the ridges pressing back against their flesh as the beast bullies its way further into them, utterly uncaring of their own welfare. It is for the best that they’ve been the one to give the little lord’s beast its sorely needed outlet. Any other and the lordling would have more likely awoken to a shattered corpse, with the whole House aware of just how fastidious he is.

Overcome by the sensitivity of its fledgling flesh – and, if Haarlep might be so modest, the experience of their own peerless form – the beast only lasts a few more minutes before its thrusts grow even more frenzied. A sizzling heat permeates Haarlep’s throat as the cock flexes and shudders within it, seeming to grow larger for a few moments as the taste of ash and honey intensifies.

The next moment, the beast is tearing back from them, just barely avoiding slicing itself on their fangs as it stumbles backward, flesh cracking and splitting in a grating inversion of its earlier transformation. Its own form sizzles and steams, a haze in the air around it for a moment before, transmutation complete, their little lord stands before them once more. He looks lost, for a moment, before his scan of the room – now in quite some disarray – comes to a halt with his eyes on Haarlep, still kneeling gracefully with their hair cascading about them. His face twists, too many emotions to quantify spasming across it all at once, before settling on a faint, haughty sneer.

Haarlep licks their lips – and the visible remnants of their activities – slowly, sensuously. “Why, little lord, I do believe you and I have much to discuss.”

#voidling speaks #my writing #my fic #bg3 #bg3 fic #haarlep #bg3 haarlep #raphael #bg3 raphael #raphael x haarlep #ascended fiend raphael #fic

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legacygirlingreen · 3 months

Text

Burning Eyes & Laughter // Aesop Sharp NSFW

A/N: I absolutely apologize for this unedited mess. It’s also a massive stray from my usual content but I just had to write one for my best friend around the anniversary of the games release. I know most of you follow me for Sebastian content and I’m working on updates for those, but this was a quick write for my favorite person. @strawberrypinky I absolutely adore you, and I dedicate this one to you.

This was using a Sharpuary prompt for today (which I was only made aware of via my favorite Potions professor loving girl 🤣) so if you want more content for this theme , the challenged was created by @ynyseira if you want to see the whole list. Also this is written to be whatever you prefer for insert: could be your OC, MC , yourself/ y/n (no judgement) and NO use of any of the above for whatever floats your boat the most. Just note it is AFAB for the ugh… *cough* content…. 😈

This was prompt 13. Alihotsy

Word count: 7k

Warnings : SMUT, mild dom tones (but still respectful), mentions of woman on top, swearing, character gets drugged with laughing potion

AUDIO CAN NOW BE FOUND HERE

MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE

Aesop Sharp had been surprised when a professor rivaling even his own level of grumpiness joined their staff replacing poor Eleazar Fig following the man’s untimely death. When the end of term concluded, and the students sent home, Aesop was looking forward to a few months without Garreth Weasleys constant mischief, monitoring Sebastian Sallow’s detentions and just the general rude chatter provided by the students. It’s not that he hated kids directly… just struggled with their lack of maturity at times.

When Phineas introduced a daughter of one of his friends - a young woman from a sacred 28 family who walked behind the man with annoyance even in her light footed steps- he had been… intrigued. This interest growing more so when Matilda informed the rest of the staff that the young woman was taking over for the late professor as the school’s Magical Theory educator.

The final nail in the coffin so to speak came in the form of the polite but formal greeting she seemed to share with one of the only colleagues he actively enjoyed : Dinah Hecat. Upon further listening - or perhaps it was eavesdropping - he discovered she too had worked for the Ministry of Magic, often dropping off dark artifacts at the Unspeakable office, thus crossing paths with Dinah.

It wasn’t until he was having the young woman stare in his direction, fire in her eyes as she raised an eyebrow he realized she had been talking to him.

“Pardon?” He asked coming to his senses as the woman actually had the gall to role her eyes at him before snapping.

“Can I help you?” She repeated, this time much firmer as he decided that perhaps the young woman, while having the appearance of a sweet and lovely maiden, was in fact much more nasty at heart than he could’ve imagined.

“No”, he said curtly before turning to Hecat trying to excuse himself from the conversation as not only had the woman’s reaction brought annoyance to him, but deep down he was growing embarrassed. He had been out of line to stare and put a listening ear to a conversation he was not a part of.

“Didn’t anyone ever educate you that it’s rude to stare?” She continued to berate him and despite knowing she had every right to do so.

“Bold of you to assume that I was staring at you Ma’am. If it is such an offense than perhaps I shall make amends with your husband for being so rude to his-“ he started, the formality he was accustomed to especially with wealthy pure blood families coming to light.

“You shall make your amends directly to me as I have no husband” she said once again with anger burning in her eyes. At her words she straightening, almost as if she was attempting to make herself taller.

In all his years he had yet to meet a woman her age from a family like hers who remained this way. Being a spinster was often reserved for half blooded families or those less wealthy.

Intriguing…

Despite finding her words to be interesting he couldn’t stop the natural response he often had to terse conversations like this. Aesop would like to blame it on the years of being an auror, dealing with less than pleasant dark witches and wizards, but when he looked back on his life he always tended to have a bit of an edge that was never shakable.

“Well perhaps if you did have a husband you would be much more agreeable. Excuse me.” Aesop said, straightening to full height and forcing the pain in his leg to quiet as much as possible so he could stomp away without giving allusions to his limp.

The gasps leaving the staff members behind him initially being the only thing he heard, that was until her splintered tone muttered “cantankerous bastard” with a scoff.

Aesop Sharp wasn’t proud of the small flame that started burning in his soul at hearing her open rebellion to his brash actions…

————————————

Whoever said that first impressions don’t matter surely hadn’t been in the room the day the potions professor first met the Magic Theory replacement. Ever since that moment they had been the definition of “water” and “oil”. Often exploding at each other in staff meetings and angrily squabbling as they planned their lessons in the library.

As much as Aesop tried to blame his frustrating with children on their lack of maturity, he certainly continued to find himself reporting to such immature when trying to rile up the new professor. The woman, over a decade his junior and nearly half his size in stature carried a spitfire soul that continued to plague him when he was in his quarters alone at night.

He found observing that inferno take hold in her eyes as she stared him down as she lashed out in retaliation to be something more intoxicating than the most expensive whiskeys he had ever consumed. The anger within her pulling him in like a sire luring sailors to shore. Essentially, he’d grown addicted to making her angry purely for the reaction she provided while fuming.

If someone had told him that into his forties Aesop would be harassing a younger woman solely to see the rise out of her he’d have assumed them to be a liar. Yet, here he found himself stomping by her bedchambers, intentionally causing more noise than inherently necessary as he did so during the early hours of the morning. Knowing Abraham had returned home for the weekend he had little qualms of making the noise as they were the only two professors on this floor. And when she didn’t come bounding out to scold him, Aesop decided to take it a tiny bit further, intentionally dropping a book onto the floor right outside her door, despite knowing that it would be a pain to pick up.

When the wooden door flew open and she looked at him ready to draw blood he knew it had all been worth it.

“Merlin’s bloody ballsack!” The woman shouted, and despite her toned down attire and frustration he was almost surprised as she took one look at him directly outside her door and still bent down to retrieve the book. Despite her obvious annoyance with him, he wondered why she still felt the need to reach down and collect his fallen book. Inside he hoped that perhaps she didn’t fully hate him - even going as far to worry about him following over with his aliment - but when she stood back at full height again she instantly took to berating him.

“What in Salazar’s name are you doing loudly stomping through the halls and dropping things right outside my door in the middle of the night? Honestly Sharp, this is getting out of line. It’s one thing to fight during the days, but to bother me when I’m alone is entirely another. I thought you were Peeves acting a fool, turns out you’ve decided to bring your childish antics into inappropriate hours as well. Not only is is just rude but it’s shameful knowing I could’ve come out indecent-“ she chastised in such a fast tone he was almost impressed with her ability to angrily yell at him so quickly without taking a breath.

He caught the part about her possibly coming out indecent and the thought alone made his mind wander as he stood there, mouth agape all the while the young woman continued to yell at him. In her attempt to thrust the book back into his hands she dropped the arm wrapped around her abdomen, which was acting to keep her robe closed. As this happened he got a decent enough glance at her night-slip and as his eyes once again darted back up Aesop Sharp realized he had regretfully been caught gawking at the tiny sliver of indecency she accidentally had flashed.

“You are a swine Aesop Sharp!” She yelled promptly slamming the door in his face hard enough it echoed through the entire staff ward.

“You’re the least agreeable woman I’ve been privy to encounter!” he responded though the door, turning on his heel as he began the ascent towards his own room and when he made it to the next floor he was met with the floating smirk of Peeves.

Who would have thought

the potions man does indeed have a heart…

————————————

“This is getting quite ridiculous you two both have to admit” Matilda said with a frustrated sigh.

The young woman paced the floor while he leaned against the wall. The deputy headmistress had regretfully begun receiving complaints not just from other members of the staff, but even hearing from students how much the potions professor and the newest staff member were struggling to get along. Thus leading to one of the more awkward interventions she’d been forced to have in her career as an educator.

“I will not tolerate fighting amongst my staff. It is a shameful look, especially to our students, when two of our educators cannot act cordial” Matilda said with a frustrated sigh.

Just as Aesop moved to apologize to Professor Weasley a small house elf he’d seen on occasion apparatus into the room startling the pair of quarreling professors.

“Professor Weasley, I have made all the arrangements you asked” he informed her as he stood on the woman’s desk.

“Thank you Deek. Would you be willing to meet them in the astronomy tower corridor?” She asked the elf who only nodded before leaving once more.

“I have asked Deek to assist you both in searching the room of requirement. The headmaster would like specific items currently stored for an alumni event coming up. Considering you both cannot get along I figured this would provide you both ample opportunity to either get out all the anger you have away from students or perhaps even come to a middle ground,” Professor Weasley spoke.

Thats how Aesop found himself in the dark and cramped storage configuration of the room of requirement with the woman he found so attractive yet incredibly infuriating.

“I’m going to look over that way for those wizard chess boards and awards, come and find me when you’ve finished looking for the quidditch trophies” she said with an annoyed sigh and abandoning him before he had the opportunity to say no.

“Hobbling down the crowded walkways of the room he eventually made it to a broom rack surrounded by trophies. It wasn’t until he got closer he saw it.

Amongst all the relics associated with the schools only sport, he found a framed photo of someone recognizable. As he came closer he realized why. There, holding the quidditch cup was the woman he had found to frequently be on his mind. She was happy as she sat amongst the shoulders of other teammates, holding the hand of another woman as they held the cup high. Underneath the text read:

1880 Slytherin Quidditch Cup Winners

As he kept reading he found two familiar names. The woman in the room with him, along with another name he had heard before. Gaunt. Noctua Gaunt

Against his better nature Aesop Sharp found himself putting the small framed photo in his coat pocket for later as he heard her footsteps.

“Find what you were looking for?” She asked, tense but not the fully rude tone he’d grown accustomed to.

“Not quite. There’s much in here to get distracted by” he admitted as he turned back to look for the items he came for. Someday he’d ask her about the photo but for now, he’d just be content with the proof she had the ability to be happy.

—————————

“How dare you?!” She said as she stormed through his office door during a free period.

“We’ve been over this before, if you were more agreeable and spoke like the adult you claim to be perhaps we could come to a common ground sensibly” he told her with an eye roll.

“I will approach you with sensibility when you learn how to be sensible” she snapped as her arms came to her chest as they crossed.

“What am I being accused of this time?” He responded with an unimpressed tone.

“I was just informed that you refuse to allow accommodations to one of your students despite being told by the headmaster to do so” she explained and suddenly he knew what she was referring to.

“Mr Gaunt is perfectly capable to preform in class without the aforementioned accommodations. Asking for such is unreasonable ” he told her knowing that she held a soft spot for the boy.

“Making him guess what potion ingredients he’s adding is cruel, not to mention dangerous” she retorted and he scoffed.

“So I am to allow special treatment for all my students? Or perhaps only advantage those you hold sentiment towards?” He asked her with a scowl.

“This has nothing to do with my connection to Omi-Mr Gaunt” she corrected herself as she tried not to think about her friendship with his late Aunt. Letting a small ounce of vulnerability show she sighed as for the first time she tried to speak to the man in a calm manner. “It’s not advantaging him, it’s purely making sure he’s not at a disadvantage compared to his classmates”

He tried to remember what had even been asked to help the young man. A way to identify his ingredients?

“How does Mr. Gaunt normally read?” He asked her.

“With his wand…” she trailed of knowing that to ask for usage of a wand during potions examinations was unreasonable.

“Before he got a wand?” He asked her.

“We uh-“ she once again looked down unsure before clearing her throat to say, “he knows brail”

“Then I can arrange for ingrient bottles for him alone to use with brail on the labels. It will be on Mr. Gaunts accord to make sure prior to an examination that I confirm they are suitable to use. Is this agreeable?” He asked her.

“Yes” she told him, turning on her heel to leave. As she did so she looked over her shoulder briefly to say, “thank you Mr. Sharp” then leaving before he had a chance to reply.

————————————

For the most part not much had changed after their one pleasant interaction. If one could call it pleasant that is. Aesop certainly did. Ever since then, it felt as if the young woman had intentionally been avoiding him. Every attempt he made to rile her up, ignored. He hardly saw her in the dining hall or in the corridors. Or was almost as if the young woman had vanished completely.

Aesop tried not to let it bother him - in many ways it was good for his jobs sake that he wasn’t tempted by her immaturity - but a large part of him was starting to miss the anger behind her beautiful eyes.

“So I have gotten less complaints of a certain professor and you as of late? Am I to understand the matter has been resolved?” Matilda asked him as she stood in the entry way of his office. She had come to discuss more punishment options for Garreth as the boy had yet again stole from his stores to blow up another cauldron. After which the conversation shifted to his frustration with the Magic theory professor.

At her inquiry he was reminded of their last encounter. He has yet again caught her in her night gown. This time it had actually been on accident as Peeves the poltergeist stole from his art room and was parading through the wing as he yelled after the entity of chaos. This woke the woman up as she stormed out of her room in yet another silk slip ready to draw blood. Before he could actually apologize for seeing her in such a state she snapped as she retreated into her room and he followed closely behind, pounding on her door until she opened up, this time covered but entirely flustered.

“What is it Sharp?” She hissed through clenched teeth.

“I was trying to apologize before you rudely took off” he huffed out.

“I was rude? I’m not the one staring at a woman in an improper state!” She countered and he laughed, once again setting that fire he’d missed.

“Perhaps if you stopped opening the door in these improper states it wouldn’t be an issue” he spoke with a smile as he turned to leave, not bothering to turn around, but from the way he didn’t hear her door close until he rounded the flight of stairs he knew he had left her speechless.

“Well?” Matilda Weasley asked breaking him out of his memory.

“I believe your prize new faculty member seems to be avoiding me” he responded honestly.

The older woman sighed in annoyance. “I really had hoped you two could get along. She has such a similar background to you. She often worked with both the Auror program and Dinah’s department. It’s a value to have such a person her. I hoped you could come together and better prepare those students who seek that lifestyle. Especially in encouraging those students whose family’s expect little to no career of challenge with such fortunes to fall back on. You both could lead by example. If I recall your parents wanted you to be a pencil pusher like your father Aesop, and you were adamant about taking your own path” she explained.

“What does that woman know of choosing to leave such expectations. She relied on her family name to get a job here? Connections through Phineas. And any ministry job -“ he tried to argue but the red head cut him off.

“She was nearly forced into marriage at such a young age like most pure blooded girls and she resisted it. She made a career. That is nearly unheard of with the sacred 28, especially those with close ties to the house you both called home while here” Matilda alluded to the common lifestyle of pure blooded families with obsession in maintaining that status.

“Matilda you’ve met the woman, I suspect she sent any suitor her father picked running for the highlands” he grumpily responded.

“Regardless I had hoped you both would find some common ground after you reached an agreement in assisting Mr. Gaunt” she said.

“I have hardly seen her since. She’s the one avoiding me. If anyone is to blame it’s her” he tried to reason with the deputy headmistress.

“Perhaps it is you who needs to extend the olive branch then. You are older and usually wiser than this Aesop. Yet when this woman is involved you resort to such childish manners and antics.” She told him.

Perhaps Matilda is right.

“How do you suggest I even do that?” He asked her.

“I had picked up some wine last time I was in Hogsmeade since I know she’s struggled to acclimate. I would like you to deliver it and perhaps you can apologize for any unsavory behavior as you both attempt to make bygones by bygones” she explained and he sighed.

“Fine. I shall take it to her” he said grabbing the bottle from her and grumbling as he began the long walk to the woman’s classroom.

When he finally made it to the secluded classroom he walked inside to find her with Ominis Gaunt and his friend Sebastian Sallow, as the three were going over material.

“This really is out of my wheelhouse Mr. Sallow, you really should reach out to Professor Sharp on your potion related questions. I am quite dreadful at them -“ she admitted and upon hearing her words he straightened up as he cleared his throat.

“What is it Mr. Sallow?” He asked, startling them all as the three heads turned around towards his direction.

Aesop watched as the boys eyes darted from his to the other professor and she gave the brunette a reassuring nod before he relented.

“I needed more practice with some of the seventh year brews. I want to make sure my application to the Auror program is perfect and there’s a few potions I am really struggling to master. Anne was always the potioneer, not me” he admitted aloud.

“Perhaps if you stayed out of detention you would have more time to work on honing your craft-“ he started as the woman gave him an angered stare over the two students head.

“If you can manage to stay out of detention Mr. Sallow, then perhaps I might find myself staying after hours on the rare occasion to go over some of these particular brews” he further explained as shock crossed the young man’s face.

“I- thank you Professor Sharp” he said. Aesop nodded at the boy before turning towards the professor.

“Might I have a word?” He asked her and she nodded.

“Perhaps you boys can swing by after dinner for me to go over this again? I appreciate you both recounting in better detail about your… experience” she said softly as the boys nodded and left her.

Before Sharp had an opportunity to speak she closed the door to her classroom, muttering out “thank you”. The words held just as much vulnerability as the day she’d last spoken them.

“What for?”

“For offering to help young Mr. Sallow” she explained.

“You mean to thank me for doing my job?” He asked.

“Working after hours to help a student isn’t necessary.” She reasoned.

“No I suppose it isn’t. Yet you find yourself helping him” sharp pointed out.

“I dare say he was helping me more than I’ve helped him…” she explained sadly and instead of pressing he merely reached into his enchanted long coats pocket to retrieve the bottle and the reason he had hobbled up here.

“Matilda asked me to bring this” he said bluntly.

“Oh, thank you. If I’d known she left it with you I’d have stopped by on my way to the library so you didn’t have to walk all the way here-“

“I am not incapable” he responded curtly.

“I - I know that. I still feel guilty you walked all the way here on my behalf” she explained.

“It wasn’t entirely on your behalf” he explained.

“What do you mean?”

“How else would I have offered to tutor Mr. Sallow?” He asked rhetorically.

“What really bringing you here?” She asked skeptically.

“I wanted to make sure you were alright. To be frank I’ve been worried with the lack of fire and brimstone exploding about the castle in your small form” he explained and she scoffed.

“I can assure you I’m fine-“

“You know, your eyes tell a different story” he explained as the words slipped through his lips before he could stop them.

Expecting her to be angry he was almost taken aback when her cheeks flushed red before she swallowed hardly and the fear in her eyes was replaced by that fire he knew.

“Perhaps you should spend less time worrying over my eyes” she said, turning to go up to her office, bottle in hand.

“Unlikely when they so often contain daggers seeking to strike me down” he told her as she scoffed.

“The door is behind you Sharp” she called over her shoulder as she entered her office at the back of the classroom and he couldn’t help but smile as he heard the small smirk in her voice.

——————-

It wasn’t that much later when he heard it. The smooth melodic sound filled the hall leading to his classroom as his ears perked like a dog discovering something.

Rushing to stand he begun hearing voices as well.

“Hurry Ominis!” He recognized the voice of Sebastian Sallow just before the fellow Slytherin called out.

“I’m doing the best I can, she is heavier than she looks and I’m walking blind without my wand” the boy hissed.

Both voices were nearly drowned out by the sound that had caught his attention in the first place: laughter.

Sweet, rich, deep laughter.

Unlike anything he heard before he quickly flung open his office door to see both the young men with their arms holding up the poor unfortunate woman.

Her body writhed as the uncontrollable laugher continued to pour past her lips and her cheeks collected the tears that spilled from her eyes. And although she was laughing he could see it there: anger in her eyes.

“What in Merlin’s name?” He asked as he begun searching for it. He knew he had Glumbumble somewhere in his stores. Treacle could relief the laughing potion she’d obviously been slipped.

“We came back after dinner and found her like this we swear professor. She couldn’t move. She has likely been this way for hours” Sebastian explained as he set the woman down on one of the desks, holding her up the best he could as she continued to lean forward, doubling over.

Professor Sharp watched as the other Slytherin stood nearby, anxiety plastered on his features as he turned to him.

“Mr Sallow I need you to help me find the antidote. This is a perfect opportunity to practice some of that potions knowledge. What plant causes uncontrollable laughter?” He asked, gently guiding the shoulders of Ominis towards the woman to hold her upright as he took the opportunity to educate.

“Uh… alihosty sir” Sebastian said after a moment of thinking.

“Good. And what plant reverses the effects of Alihosty?” He asked.

“It’s…” the boy looked back over his shoulder at the young professor who was still crying through the laughter and suddenly his eyes lit up. “Glumbumble!” Sebastian said quickly taking off in the direction of the store room and grabbing a vial.

“Mr. Gaunt this shouldn’t take long, but please do not let our friend here fall to the floor” he explained as he begun instructing Sebastian through brewing the potion.

What the students and the woman didn’t know, was that he had the potion already brewed in his office for such emergencies. And his intentions hadn’t been in the vain of education either. He simply wanted to keep hearing the woman’s laughter, as it was the closest he’d been to seeing her happy since she arrived. Something about it warmed his heart despite the horrible situation that had brought about it.

It wasn’t long before he had the potion and was forcing the young men out since it was nearing curfew. Both of them looked sad as he slammed his classroom door in their faces without knowledge of their new favorite professor’s condition.

Walking back towards her, he knew she likely couldn’t hold the vial on her own, so he steadied her face with one hand, leaning her cheek back until she was looking upward. Gently bringing his thumb to holding her lips open, the sound of laughter still filling the air, he tipped it back, as he quickly used his hand to close her mouth so she could swallow them removing himself.

Her skin had been much warmer than he had anticipated but he knew that once the potion took effect she’d been out for blood. Not that he could entirely blame her. He would be furious in her shoes as well. Whoever it was that slipped her a laughing poison was going to get an earful from him.

Walking into his office he anticipated her lashing simple due to him being the only person around to receive it. After a few seconds just that happened.

“This is a new low even for you Sharp!” She said storming in behind him as she wrapped her arms around her sore abdomen.

“I’m not following. I’m the one who just helped you” he explained.

“After you poisoned me” she scoffed.

“How on earth would I even do that?” He asked and she raised a brow.

“The wine!” She shouted and suddenly he remembered that Matilda had him deliver the bottle. But there’s no way the woman would’ve slipped a new professor a laughing potion, certainly not one that strong.

Regardless he still responded in anger to the accusation. “How dare you accuse me of such. I would never dare slip something into a young woman’s drink” he seethed at her insinuation despite knowing she had every right to question it. It didn’t stop his stubbornness from taking over.

She stepped further until their chests were nearly pressed together as she poked her finger into his lapel and continued “you haven’t liked me the moment I arrived. You have made my time here miserable. You were the one who gave me the poisoned wine. It’s not looking good for you Aesop” she spat and he immediately felt his blood begin to pump at hearing her use his first name and not his surname for the first time.

“Say it again” he said as he stared down at her. That inferno he so deeply coveted in her eyes burning more than it ever had as he told her to repeat it.

The young woman mistook his request to mean the accusation as she once again repeated it, this time with the additional words “you don’t want me as an enemy Aesop”

At hearing her venomed usage of his name he growled, stepped forward once more as she continued to hold her ground.

“You are so insufferable gorgeous when you are angry you know that?!” He nearly screamed at her, watching as confusion crossed her features. Her brow softened before once again her expression hardened.

“I hardly think it matters at the current moment Sharp-“ she started and he stopped her, as his body seemingly reacted before his brain could process. Grabbing the young woman’s waist he gripped her tightly, hauling her into him as he stared her down.

“Of course it matters” he told her through clenched teeth and once again he saw her waiver. She tried to step back and he tightened his hold once more as she looked up at him.

“Aesop-“ her tone much softer and nervous than it was previously as she had said his name and he finally let go of the tense of his forearms, loosening his hold on her.

“If you want to go you’re free to” he told her as he allowed her the ability to remove herself from his arms.

Suddenly as if putting together all the pieces he realized that perhaps he hadn’t been so angry at her presence. It wasn’t frustration at her antics. It was lust driving him to act this way. This is why he felt the need to take her portrait from the room of requirement. This was why he always harassed her to get a rise. As he came to putting together the pieces, it seemed she did so as well.

No longer behaving like a brute he reached a hand up to cup her cheek as gently as he could.

Your laughter has got to be the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.

He wasn’t sure who moved first, but he quickly became aware as the young woman’s lips met his harshly. Soon he was walking backwards to his desk, her hands pulling his hair as he clutched her waist.

The sudden movement caused him to almost fall over as he wasn’t expecting it and she actually giggled as their kiss broke and he caught himself on his desk. Sliding up as he sat slightly, she pressed herself into his tall frame and resumed their kiss as he tried to wrap his mind around the exchange.

A part of him knew they should stop. Despite being after hours anyone could walk in and this was hardly appropriate. However finally kissing the woman he’d been so entranced by all year superseded his rationale.

Aesop nipped at the young woman’s lip as she eagerly opened her mouth so their tongues could unify themselves in a dance. At the feeling of her warm appendage against his own he couldn’t help but groan as he placed his large hand against the small curve of her waist.

Soon she broke apart, breathless as she looked up at him with a confused mix of emotions.

“Where is this heading?” She asked him as she gripped his jackets lapel in one hand and steadied herself against him with the other.

“Do you wish to stop?” He asked, wanting confirmation she truly did want this as it wouldn’t be right to force himself upon such a woman.

“No it’s just…” she trailed off and he leaned forward, seeking her eyes as he saw an unreadable look within their depths.

“What is it?” He asked her gently, his hand taking root along her cheek as he sought out an answer.

“I just do not wish for you to grow soft simply because, well, whatever this is” she frustratingly said and he took a moment to process her words before realizing that she enjoyed the banter, she enjoyed the frustration. She enjoyed his fire.

Chuckling darkly he pulled her closer this time with much more of the force he had used initially and told her “I can assure you that I am hardly soft at the moment…” he said, knowing that while crossing the line or crass she would probably enjoy such a statement.

The return of that glint in her eyes being confirmation.

“Turn around” he told her as he let her go.

“What?” She asked.

“Turn around” he repeated as she arched an eyebrow. Suddenly a smirk crossed her face and just as he had reignited the spark in her eyes she lit his own by bringing the immature routine back to the forefront.

“I’m not sure…” she teased and he once again reached forward, grabbing her hips as he forced her to face his desk, loving the sound of the chuckle passing through her lips at his rough nature.

“When I tell you to do something, you do it” he hissed in her ear and he felt the small tremor run up her spine as she pressed herself into him without responding it.

“Do you understand?” He asked her and she didn’t respond at first but when he bit her earlobe and she once again pushed herself back into his dominating frame she shook her head yes.

“Yes…” she whispered and she chuckled in her ear after gently licking the place he had bit.

“Yes what…?” He asked her.

“Yes sir..?” She asked him, unsure that’s what he wanted to hear.

“Aesop” he told her as he slowly reached a hand down to start lifting her long skirt upwards. At this her hips bucked slightly and he smirked as he watched her hands go down to help him lifting the thick material over her waist.

“I’ve got it…” he cooed as she dropped her hands and let him lift the skirt up.

“Yes sir” she whispered and he pushed her forward slightly.

“Try again” he told her and she hitched her breath, contemplating for a moment before she once again said “yes sir”

This caused him to push her forward, her bottom only covered now by undergarments as her skirt had been pushed over her waist. Her stomach laid flat on the desk as he bent her over his workspace. Once again leaning down into her ear, he frustratingly said “you’re such a brat” through clenched teeth as he reached a hand back to begin unbuckling his trousers while holding her lower back.

The girl let out a slight whine at his taunting as her hips bucked backwards seeking his.

“You want this don’t you? Want me to take you over my desk? Teach you a lesson?” He asked as he finally removed himself from his trousers and underclothes as he pushed them down to his knees.

His cock stood upright between them and he waited for her to continue.

“Yes…” she said as her cheek laid flat upon his desk.

Slowly he began to slip her underclothes down her thighs, revealing the globes of her ass to him as he reached around to feel if she was aroused. Sure enough his finger easily slid into her hole, coated in her wetness.

“Yes what?” He once again asked

“Yes Aesop” she whispered and as a reward for being such a good girl he pulled her into his frame as he shoved himself inside.

The young woman let out a shrill noise as he easily plunged within her walls, holding her close as he began to buck in and out of her.

“So perfect” he praised her as she continued to push herself back the best she could, trying to produce friction for the both of them to enjoy.

The lewd sounds filling the air as his body continued to make contact with hers. The slapping of bare skin against bare skin and the wet squelching of her cunt taking his cock mixed with the sounds of their joined moaning.

For the first time in years Aesop Sharp felt as if he was burning alive in the best possible way.

The woman’s cries growing louder and louder as he slapped his hand over her mouth while pounding into her harder.

“Shhhhh… wouldn’t want anyone to find you with my cock buried within you now would we?” He asked her as she shook her head and he let go, watching over her shoulder as the woman took her bottom lip between her teeth and continued the muffled sounds.

Suddenly the grip on his manhood began to grow more intense as she seemingly grew closer and closer to release, him climbing right along side of her.

“That’s right, keep taking me” he praised and she sighed, rolling her head back against his shoulder as he fought to hold them both up. Her hips began to move uncontrollably as he held on, his hand firmly against her waist as he tried to steady her wonton movements.

“Let go my little spitfire…” he told her and with that she let out a shrill noise and sobbed as she collapsed back on his desk. Not even a second later he exploded within her, his cock painting a masterpiece inside her inner walls as he flooded her with release, before collapsing onto her back.

His nose found the skin of her nape as he caught his breath and removed himself so he wouldn’t crush her. Almost like an injured animal she pushed herself up and pulled her skirt back down as he tucked himself back into his pants.

They both looked to one another as the list filled moment wore off but the smell of sex continued to linger in the room.

“I apologize” he said after a moment, shake filling him as he realized what he had done.

“For?” She asked as she placed a hand to her forehead.

“For how ive acted all year. I’ve provoked you instead of being honest about how I felt… also that was wildly inappropriate” he admitted.

“It was inappropriate… but I quite enjoyed it” she admitted with a smirk as she turned to him.

Reaching forward she put an arm around his shoulder tentatively as he looked at her in shock before he put his hand on the small of her back.

“Well… I would be lying if I say I also didn’t enjoy that” he admitted. The young woman turned to face him as she smiled and pushed his hair out of his eyes. She looked at him, her eyes searching his dark ones for something before she whispered out, “did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” His eyebrows drew as he spoke.

“what you said… about my laugh?” She asked him and he smiled as he unwound himself from her affections to walk over to a small chest in his office, grabbing a vial before handing it to her.

Upon reading its contents she gasped then turned to him with the annoyed gleam in her eye he’d grown to enjoy as she smacked his shoulder.

“I knew you had one brewed!” She snapped as he laughed.

“You wanted me to teach young Sallow… it’s partly your fault…” he explained as she set down the vial on his desk and groaned into his neck while he began to laugh harder.

“You are still a pig you know that?” She said into his skin as he pulled her tighter, knowing that whatever this was blossoming into was quite lovely….

Aesop Sharp did allow the woman to take out her frustrations over the already brewed remedy as she bounced on his cock in his desk chair while refusing to allow him to grab her unclothed breasts like he wanted. Not that he’d complain.

—————————

As the pair of them slipped into the faculty tower that night they were met with the sight of one Professor Weasley outside the door with her nephew.

“My nephew would like to apologize for trying to test a laughing brew on a wine he didn’t realize was meant to be a gift” she spoke sternly as she held the boys shoulders.

Aesop simply looked to the boy and back at the slightly dishelved young woman with a shrug before turning towards Matilda to say “accidents happen, everything was alright. Don’t you agree Miss?” He asked the young witch accompanying him.

“It’s alright Garreth. That’s quite a powerful brew. Compliments” she said turning to leave.

Matilda watched as the two professors slipped inside the faculty tower before she turned to her nephew and passed him a few galleons.

“finally see those two… resolved their differences. Thank you garreth” she told him before pushing him off the stairs to his own common room. As she walked by the newest staff members quarters she tried not to smile as she heard the muffled conversation between the woman and Professor Sharp about going to Hogsmeade that weekend.

They really do say that laughter is the best medicine… and in this case perhaps the remedy…

THE END

#hogwarts legacy #aesop sharp x reader #aesop sharp x mc #aesop sharp #professor sharp #professor aesop sharp #sharpuary #enemies to lovers #angry idiots in love #I apologize for this unedited mess

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look-at-the-soul · 1 year

Text

The secret celebration

Cillian Murphy x reader

Happiest of birthdays my dear Liv @gypsy-girl-08 🥰🎁🎂 I hope you had a fantastic day and you keep celebrating all weekend! I started working on this little bday treat since the end of November, made with all my love to celebrate you on your special day xx

⚠️ Smut 🤭

“Are you finally telling me where are we going?” You scoffed sitting on the bench in front of your bed to put on your high heels. He only asked you to wear a particular dress that drove him wild.

Cillian just stepped out from the shower, fresh aftershave and lotion and your mouth went dry.

“Are you finally stopping with the complains?” He half joked, feeling nervous, wishing every single part of his plan worked out.

“We could’ve just cooked here something…” You pressed while walking towards him as Cillian started buttoning his blue shirt.

“Ah no, no, no… I know what you’re doing Y/N.”

You gave him your best innocent look. “What?”

“Every single time you start bitting your lips like that, we end up having sex, and I worked really hard for-” but he stopped himself mid sentence, his plans almost ruined. “See? You get me all worked up…”

“Me? But I didn’t do anything.” You wanted to laugh really loud, he was so easy.

He arched his eyebrows, his full lips pursed in a tight line. While his eyes wandered down your body.

Fuck, you looked fabulous and if it wasn’t because he worked so hard in every single detail, he’d bend you down the dresser and fuck you until you couldn’t walk.

“At least you could give me a hint?”

“Nope, let’s go… it was hard to get a reservation and I don’t wanna loose it birthday girl.”

“But what about my birthday treat?” He looked at your cute pout for a few seconds, feeling lost in those lips.

His hand sneaked around your body, landing directly on your bum, to bring you closer. “You can get plenty of that later tonight.” He promised stealing one quick peck, trying not to ruin your make up.

The whole trip was the same, the endless questions about why was he so mysterious. Your hand on his thigh, dangerously close to heaven, a kiss on his neck… you were the master when it came tactics to distract him, but he was determined, he wasn’t going to tell you any of his plans.

“Now, I need you to wear this.” He waved a black scarf in front of you, after stopping midway.

This couldn’t be his final destination, he parked close to the beach.

“Please.” He requested giving you those eyes that made you forget your own name.

“No, Cill…” of course you trusted him, but it was so stressful not knowing what to expect, what his next move was.

“It’ll be fun, I promise.” He winked and didn’t give you more time to protest.

The rest of the car trip, you lost track of time and space… was he driving in circles? Going to the family holiday house? You couldn’t tell. The soft music coming from the speakers of his favorites pieces of jazz, the soft humming of his deep voice, he could practically do anything he wanted with you.

“And, we’ve arrived.” He announced proudly, surprising you, stealing a kiss.

When he took the scarf from your eyes, you blinked a couple of times, not recognizing the destination.

“I’m stealing my fiancée for the weekend.” Cillian announced, eyes sparkling.

Looking at the incredible place before you, it made you think of a dream; big trees around, fairy lights decorating it even though it wasn’t Christmas, but it surely added a magic touch, a rustic cabin, cottage-like looking. As you stepped out of the car, you could hear a waterfall close… ugh and the smell, pure fresh air.

You were lost of words, didn’t notice when Cillian walked around the car until his arm wrapped around your waist.

“We’ve got everything we need here, there’s a couple of restaurants with international food, a spa, pool, a café… oh, right the phone signal is kind of bad.”

Turning your entire body to him, your smile simply didn’t fit your face, you needed more room for a bigger smile, if that was even possible.

He asked the staff to put a bottle of your favorite wine and dessert in the room, they even offered flowers and another birthday treats, the chef would prepare your favorite childhood dessert. He wanted to make this day extra special for you, a day you could remember forever.

“Are you really locking me here?”

His laugh vibrated through his chest, against your cheek as you hugged him.

“I hope that’s a good thing and not a torture.” He joked, pushing you gently.

After confirming the reservation, the bags you didn’t know he packed for the weekend were taken to your room, he explained how his sister found the place and suggested it would be nice to celebrate in private, just the two of you, before the crazy press schedule he had booked for the release of the Oppenheimer movie.

“I like it when you torture me.” You teased pulling gently at his curls, now that he had grown them back, you didn’t want them to ever be gone again, his toned beefy body was back as well, and to think you’d have him all for you during the entire weekend… your mouth watered.

“Y/N, behave.” He slapped your bum slightly, taking advantage that no one was around. “What will people think? Poor man, that woman is insatiable.”

That was one of your favorite things of your relationship with him, the constant teasing, how you both matched the other filthy attitude. It was like an inside joke just for the two of you.

Walking towards the restaurant, you were met by another breathtaking view, in front of the terrace there was a huge fountain with ‘dancing water’ that moved to the rhythm of the music, just like the iconic fountain from Las Vegas.

Dinner was amazing, but the best part of it was the privacy you got, something Cillian craved so much.

After meeting in 2018 when Professor Pat Nolan introduced you to Cillian after assuring you that your life experiences were vital for a project that Cillian was working on, you met at a café and even though the book project that brought the two of you together was on hold for four years, your relationship started right away, you still remember so well how he leaned against the table, chin over his hand and his eyes tore apart every layer of your soul. He was fascinated by your empathy story and you were by his brilliant idea of turning it into a book and bring the matter into the table, he wanted the world to talk about empathy.

Over the curse of those years you witnessed the endless hours he dedicated to the book, to every story that would be part of it…

“What are you thinking of?” His question pulled you back to present time.

Those eyes, still sneaking into your heart.

“When we met.” You stated with a smile.

Squeezing your hand he smiled, thinking of that as well.

“I firmly believe there’s a reason for everything, the right time and place.”

“And the right person.” You added, thanking the staff for dinner and walked back to your room. “Thank you for this beautiful surprise.”

You wasted no time once he opened the door, taking the initiative after an eternity of waiting.

“I want, no… I need my other present now.” You kissed his jaw, then his neck, feeling his pulse quickening.

“Your wish is my command.” He turned you around to undo the straps that held your dress together.

Clothes quickly thrown to the floor, no words needed. Your legs trembling after he had been slowly teasing your breasts with his mouth, you standing between his legs, one of your hands using his shoulder for support, while your fingers of the other, pulled at his curls, a deep moan abandoned your mouth as his fingers moved in and out of your center. His eyes focused on your pleasure.

When you thought you couldn’t resist it anymore he made you straddle him, and then he stood up with you anchored to his waist, turning Cillian placed you gently on the mattress, waiting no time to push your lower lips apart to find the way home.

In a tender, but firm rhythm, he rocked your bodies, legs tangled, hands touring each other’s skin, until your orgasms danced in unison.

Looking into his eyes, you could only think of the waves of pleasure setting your body in fire.

Until the fireworks subsided, your eyes kept locked.

With a groan, he pulled out from you.

“Can we stay for the whole week?”

Taking your leg, Cillian placed it on his lap, fingers running up and down. “So you liked my surprise?” His lips brushing over your shoulder, ready for the second round.

“This is the perfect way to celebrate my birthday… the perfect date.”

****

Part 2

Want to ‘hire’ me for special occasions? 🤣 send your request, here we celebrate birthdays, anniversaries, holidays.. whatever you want! xxx

Master list

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @gypsy-girl-08 @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @heidimoreton @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @strayrockette @the-forest-witchh @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @zablife @peakyscillian @moral-terpitude @babaohhhriley @ange-thoughts @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @cilliansangel @rangerelik

#That’s what Cill said #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy smut

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captainkirkk · 1 year

Text

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes.

ATLA

Perfection is Overrated by JaggedCliffs (+ podfic) (NOTE: I've recced this fic before and I'll rec it again. When I die, I want to be buried with this fic)

For his first thirteen years, Zuko was raised in a palace. And yet somehow, it's the three years outside the Fire Nation that seem to count more – at least to the palace staff, who act like he's been raised by fox-wolves.

At first, this only annoys Zuko.

Until he begins to think that the Fire Nation needs more than a formerly-banished prince.

a brush of fingers, a kick of shins by lesmiserablol (+ podfic)

"Okay, I’ve been thinking all day, and here’s my idea,” Toph tells Zuko on their way to dinner. “You’re so sure he’s not into you, so I’m going to help you out and give you a gentle nudge every time he flirts so that you notice it.”

“Okay,” Zuko says slowly. He doubts it will be necessary, he and Sokka have been best friends for over five years now and that is probably all that Sokka thinks of him as. A good friend. “I don’t know if it’ll come up, but if it does...just don’t make it obvious, yeah?”

“Don’t worry, I have a plan,” Toph smiles. Zuko knows her fairly well, he knows he should be worried at that, but he just follows her into the dining hall.

Stranger Things

who wants to live forever? by starbeyy

In which Steve Harrington has two nightmares: The one he has about the fire at the Starcourt Mall every time he falls asleep, and the one where Eddie Munson visits him at Family Video to ask him for a favor.

shape it up (get it straight) by fivecenturiesverse (+ podfic)

Mike doesn't know when he started caring why Steve and Eddie are friends now, but Dustin has made him curious. Eddie and Steve were enemies before, sort of. So why are they now best friends? They've just got to do a bit of surveillance to work this puzzle out. If Mike accidentally finds out he has feelings for his best friend along the way then... well, shit.

“At least I’m not using binoculars.” Mike shoots a derisive look over at Dustin. “Like we’re not in the middle of the high street, if they spot us how are you going to explain away those, huh?”

“Bird watching,” says Dustin. “My new hobby.”

Lucas punches him on the arm. “God you’re so fucking stupid.”

“You gave them to me!”

Shadowhunters

Portable Magic by smilebackwards

Magnus may go slightly overboard helping Alec set up for the book club gathering.

Technically, perhaps, he didn’t need to create a signature cocktail or barter a favor to Raphael for O neg blood for the vampires or source the biscotti directly from Italy. But hospitality is important and these are Alec’s friends. He wants to make a good impression.

Or: Alec is in a Downworld book club and Magnus finds this unaccountably fascinating.

count the ways by smilebackwards

"I know the nephilim have some truly skewed perspectives on our history and culture but have you ever seen anything like this before?” Magnus holds out the book, open to Warlock Courting Traditions. The text only takes up half a page, a mystifying run-on list of odd and impossible tasks. It’s formatted almost like poetry and his dear, pedantic Alexander has turned it into a checklist, penciled lightly down the margin.

Ragnor snorts into his tea.

“Oh,” Catarina says, looking at the book. “That."

In somno veritas (In sleep lies the truth) by lawsofchaos (+podfic)

Jace blinks, peering at the loft in vague stupefaction. “This,” and Alec’s parabatai’s voice sounds like he’s dragging each noise out from his exhausted mind and forcing it out before he can forget what word he just discovered. “Isn’t the Institute?” The final phrase comes out as a question.

Alec tilts his head in puzzlement, glancing at his brother as if wondering how he could possibly consider that Alec had taken them there instead of here. “No?”

Alec’s head moves back to level and he narrows his eyes instead. “We said we were going home after patrol.”

The ‘ergo, we are home now’ wasn’t said, but it was obvious in implication.

bloom by smilebackwards

Alec loves watching Izzy get flowers but he thinks he would have liked, just once, to know what it felt like for someone to send him something so bright and sweet, frivolous, just because they cared.

#the shadowhunter fics made me SO soft #thank you to fic authors for making me feel incredibly single #now i know how isabelle lightwood feels #weekly fic round up #my posts #fic recs #shadowhunter recs #stranger things recs #atla recs #podfic available

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therentyoupay · 8 months

Note

18. "You look lost." for jelsa ??? :3c

from this askbox meme!

"On the contrary," she says, slotting a hand over one cocked hip, sending shimmering fractals of reflected light across the inner walls of the glacier. "I live here."

Jack blinks. "Okay. So... Am I lost?"

The look of mild antagonism in her eyes disappears, and the judgmental slant of her brow softens into something more perplexed and curious than defensive. Jack twists his staff behind his back with a flick of his wrist—partly to seem unarmed but mostly to fill the silence.

"Are you?" the woman in white asks, her gaze narrowing at his bare feet on the ice. Concern curves into the lines of her mouth, her brows. "How did you get in here?"

Jack wasn't sure how well 'Oh! I was just flying around and passed through this funny-looking cloud and found this super cool glacier in the middle of the sea and decided to poke around!' would, no pun intended, fly.

"I don't know," he shrugs, sloooowly making his way closer to where she stands in the center of the cavern. He is careful not to watch her directly, and instead makes a show of looking up and around and admiring the giant slabs of ancient ice—he can feel the Old Power in them, kind of similar to how Manny feels—but out of the corner of his eye, he can see that she still stiffens up, wary of his not-so-subtle encroaching. Her shoulders, he notices, are bare. He tightens his grip on his staff, behind his back. "How do people usually get in here?"

"They don't."

Interesting. "How did you get in here?"

She doesn't answer him, which isn't a surprise at this point. "You aren't wearing any shoes," she observes, a question mark hanging in the freezing air of the chamber.

Jack knows he should try to be polite—has actually been working really hard on it, thank you very much—but he can't resist just a tiny bit of cheek. "I'm not," he agrees, and to emphasize his point, he takes another step closer to her with a cheerful glint in his eyes. He crosses both hands behind his back to clutch his staff behind him—relaxed, but ready.

You're like me, Jack knows, but not?

The woman in white's gaze travels over his hoodie, his old pants, his messy hair. It lingers on the drawstring cords at his collar: on the frost that lingers there. Her gaze snaps to his like an accusation. Like a wish.

"You're like me," she says, "but not."

Jack feels the magic in the walls, threaded into the frozen veins of this ancient labyrinth of secrets. Some instinct inside compels him to slowly reach out a hand and twist the molecules of air above his palm into sparkling diamonds of swirling snow, delicate and fragile: he watches her as she watches, transfixed, as his snowflakes dissolve into the air and become a part of the very fabric of the cavern that contains them, forever with the memory of this moment. Her eyes widen, and her fists clench.

Interesting.

"I don't think I'm lost," Jack says, slowly, like he might to a skittish deer; he knows, in this moment, that she has never met anyone like herself, either. I think we were supposed to find each other, he knows, but does not say.

The woman in white considers him. Raises her delicate palm aloft. Jack swallows. Now who's the deer?

Watches as, from the fabric of time and space above her palm, she pulls forth a wave of Old Magic so powerfully condensed that Jack nearly stumbles back—only catches himself at the last moment, as his staff drops to his side, at the ready—and the woman in white's Old Magic coalesces into a tiny flake of glimmering ice and snow. She briefly closes her eyes, and warmth suffuses the flake, dissolving it exquisitely into nothing but memory, and leaving the air of the cavern alive and singing.

The woman in white looks him in the eye; he'd gotten rather too close when he'd thought he was being sneaky, and now it's hard to meet the blue of her gaze. But he does.

"I don't think you're lost, either," she whispers. She glances at his hands.

Jack swallows. The air in the cavern surrounding them feels alive. He feels like he could do anything; when her gaze returns to his, he knows it. For whatever reason—we are supposed to find each other.

Slowly, through the heavy invisible energy sending sharp shocks of electricity over his skin, Jack Frost reaches out his hand to the woman in white, and waits for her to take it.

→ on ao3

#cnidariandreams #therentyoupay ask #therentyoupay fic #jelsa #therentyoupay drabbles #LIV SEE WE JUST YEET THE FICS OUT INTO THE UNIVERSE ---- YEET THEM DRABBLES #YEET AWAY ---

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highkeykithes · 2 years

Text

Our Little Secret

↢ ❦ ↣

Synopsis: Before having a family with Ran take a look at how it all started.

Pairing: (Bonten!) Ran Haitani x (Fem!) Reader

Contains: Fluff? Implied Sexual Content, Pre-relationship, mentioned pregnancy.

A/N: I tried putting this in more of a younger [name]'s perspective to express some awkwardness before getting comfortable with Ran.

[1] [2] [3]

Your parents weren’t the best— no, they were actually the worst people to seek help from. So you really had to do everything on your own.

Your older siblings left the second they turned eighteen, leaving you alone with those people who don’t deserve the title “parents”. None of your siblings even offered you help or advice, they just left.

Your friend's parents were better than yours. They paid for their children's college tuition and their textbooks.

You ended up getting into college with a scholarship. But that didn’t cover the textbooks you needed. That’s why you were currently lacking sleep, and sitting with a bunch of old women who requested you.

The nightclub you worked at was huge. There were different areas occupied by many men and women who were most likely only going to be one night stands. never to talk to each other again.

You know that because you’ll see the same men and women come in and leave with different people.

“You are really young to be working here, no?”

you were torn out of your thoughts by one of the women sitting next to you. She had a joint in one of her hands, the smell of it going directly into your nose.

You scrunch your face, “Ahhaha…They really don’t seem to care who they hire here” You chuckle, pushing a strand of [hair, braids, etc.] behind your left ear.

It was true. This place was apparently run by some huge secret organization, the current boss was just a decoy—which he was aware of. Only staff knew that, and they’ve been loyal for years. You were barely informed about it a few months ago during a meeting between trusted staff and the boss.

They real masterminds were careless, because they knew they would never be in the spotlight if the place ever got raided.

“Well if I may be excused, I have another table to serve” You politely excuse yourself after feeling a buzz in your bra.

It was a small square screen that every server had. Appearing on the screen would be a number representing the tables, or it would be a short sentence of where you’re needed.

The women giggle and wave you off, not before stuffing their tips under the shoulder straps on your dress. You had waved them off, suggesting they come again soon.

“Looks like you found yourself new customers” The bartender—also a very close friend of yours—winks with a teasing tone.

You pull out the device from your bra and set it down on the counter, rolling your eyes. “Why was I called?” You asked, gesturing towards the buzzer.

The man picks it up and magically makes it stop vibrating. “Someone has requested you. VIP room six, second floor” He informs, sliding it back over to you. “Don’t fuck it up”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “What? Are these guys undercover cops or something” You ask, resting your chin on your palm.

The older man shakes his head and leans closer to you, making sure no one was in earshot range.

“they're the ones that own this place”

Your body froze at his words.

It was easy for him to lean back and go back to cleaning the counter, unfazed by the situation.

However, you were the one serving them. You might as well just die.

“You’re the only one I can trust with this tonight” The dark haired male admits, throwing the rag over his shoulder. “Tana and Rei are too dumb to even remember simple orders. And the others are new, so they don’t know anything about them” He explains.

You swallow the lump in your throat and nod your head. “Of course, you don’t have anything to worry about” you assure.

Obviously he had nothing to worry about.

if you fucked up, then you were most likely going to die. not him.

+++

By now you were already in front of the door your manager assigned you to. Your legs wanted to give out just seeing the number six on the door, knowing Tokyo’s biggest gang is on the other side.

You didn’t want to keep them waiting. So you took one last final deep breath and reached for the doorknob, twisting it gently as ever.

Only an inch open and you could hear their voices mixing. You couldn’t tell how many there were, and you simply didn’t want to know.

Once you enter the room you immediately take notice of one of the new servers. He wasn’t much older than you, maybe in his third year of college. But you knew he wasn’t supposed to be there.

“That's our server” you heard one of the men say as they stare the boy down.

“Kyo, this is where I was assigned” You didn’t want to come off as rude, but these new staff just couldn’t listen and always caused trouble for everyone.

“Tana told me to—”

You pull the device out from your shirt and swipe past a few screens, turning it around to show red words that say “V.I.P ROOM 6: [NAME]”

The male huffed and walked past you, purposely bumping his shoulder on yours.

like always, trouble.

You mentally sigh and lock the door once he is out. “I apologize for the inconvenience” Your voice went soft as you turned to the-

eight men?!

You had to take a moment to collect yourself from all the intense stares. You couldn’t meet a single one, you thought you would piss yourself if you did. So instead you bowed.

“If there’s anything you’d like to get started on, I’d be more than happy to take your order” You announce, raising back up from your greeting.

Your eyes ended up landing on some sort of open folder displayed in front of a man with white hair. You noticed there was a small photo in the corner of it.

“[name] [last name]…” The man spoke first. “taking a gap year to raise money for college needs…nineteen years old…comes from a drug abusive family…blah blah blah” He read aloud, making you grip the device in your hands.

They had your information. Well why wouldn’t they?!

“huh” A man with the pink mullet hums. “Guess you really aren’t that different, how disappointing” His lips curled up into a smirk.

The same white haired man waved him off. “So [name]” he calls, making your chest tighten. “Do you…know who we are?” he asks, dull and dark eyes staring right into yours.

don’t fuck it up.

don’t fuck it up!

“I apologize sir but I don’t have a clue on who you may be” You answer. “But i’m more than happy to get you started on drinks” You suggest, raising the small device up and switching to the notepad screen.

fuck, that was extremely hard.

From afar you couldn’t see it, but the corner of his lips slightly curved up into a satisfied smirk.

‘So they are training them to say it. good’

For a good twenty minutes you stood there as they went around the table, ordering what bottles they wanted. They would end up getting off track and bickering with each other, that’s what caused the delay.

You had to admit, their shameless bickering for some reason brought comfort to you. As if this wasn’t going to be bad after all.

+++

“I think i’m gonna puke”

Your manager rolls his eyes as you take a seat on the bar stool, hands covering your mouth while your eyes go wide.

“Well get used to it love” He says, looking down at the small screen you dropped, memorizing what bottles to send with you.

“Huh? Wait, I can just drop it off and leave, right?” You grip the counter.

“Yeahhh, these aren’t your typical “V.I.P’s” remember?” He cocks an eyebrow, placing two bottles onto the counter. “They requested you with a full stay” he informs, making your lips part.

He begins to put the bottles in an eight cup carrier, oblivious to your panicking face.

“Tadashi, I feel like a mice in a room with sna—”

Cutting off your sentence was the man reaching over and slapping a hand against your mouth.

You widen your eyes and yank his hand off. “What the hell?!”

“You want to survive the night? I suggest you don’t talk about them like that” He harshly whispers, sliding the crate over to you. “Trust me doll, you’ll be fine” He assures, changing his voice to a softer tone.

You wanted to just stay there the entire night. Wishing someone else would take your shift and customers.

But once again you found yourself in front of the door that scared you so much. The drink carrier in one hand, and your work device in the other. This time you were a little more prepared.

You opened the door, walking in the middle of a conversation you obviously have no interest in.

You do your best to cancel their voices out as you go around passing the respected bottle choices along with setting down shots, and regular sized glasses—depending on their option of booze.

It wasn't until you passed out the last bottle and crossed out its name on your virtual notepad when you felt a hand reach up to your hip.

That’s when the room got silent.

“did you not hear me, doll?”

You avert your eyes away from the screen and only had to look down a little until you were met with lilac colored eyes.

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat and nervously shook your head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that” you apologize.

The man squints his eyes and looks down to your waist, using his fingers to pinch your skin and tug on it, making you widen your eyes.

“hm…I thought the servers were supposed to show more skin?” he questions, looking over at the white haired male you assume was the actual boss behind everything.

You furrowed your eyebrows. You thought servers already showed enough skin. Well, what you have to wear is exposing way more skin then you’d enjoy.

During the week every staff would have to throw in ideas for a theme. You could never use the same theme more than once unless it’s already been a month or two.

On this specific night it happened to be a “forest” theme. The women staff were required to wear a dress or a tank top with a skirt. Dancers wore their usual attire along with adding something small having to do with the theme. And the male staff only had to flash a smile and they were good for the night.

For tonight’s themes you wore a white, sleeveless, pencil dress that went from the top of your neck and to the end of your thighs. You had white wrapped heels that went all the way around your calves, stopping just below your knees. It created “X” shapes on the front of your legs. On each heel was a white daisy with one green leaf—The leaves matched your earrings identically. You even had little white daisy clips in your hair.

You had soft makeup applied, not wanting to break out with any pimples. You did however add green eyeshadow, black eyeliner, and lashes to make your [color] eyes pop.

Another tug to your waist brought you out of your thoughts.

“[name], was it?” The same man asked.

You nodded your head.

The violet eyed man smiles and points a finger to his empty glass. “Be a dear and pour my drink for me. My wrist has just been hurting too much lately” he requested, finally letting go of you.

However, before you could even show a reaction, someone tugged at your opposite arm.

“Mine too, might as well get our moneys worth” The pink haired man from earlier said.

“Oi, is that anyway to treat a woman?” The man with the scar on the left side of his face rolls his eyes at the two.

“I’m sure [name] doesn’t mind, right [name]?”

You meet the first man's eyes again, instantly nodding your head in agreement. “If it’s what you request then I don’t have an issue with it” you assure.

Soon enough, everyone around the table made their own request of you pouring their drinks for them.

Let’s just say, it was a busy night.

About four hours later of walking around pouring drinks, going out to get refills, and earning teasing remarks—they had finally wrapped things up.

“[name]”

You looked up from the ground and meet eyes with the one you found out was named Mikey. He was in the middle of putting his coat on.

“If you repeat a single word of anything discussed within this room, or mention that we were ever here—” His words were already making your chest tighten.

“I’ll kill you”

you might as well just piss yourself now.

You inhale a deep breath and close your eyes before bowing your head. “I don’t recall you ever being here” You state.

“good”

With his response you lift your head back up, watching him throw some cash on the table—most likely your tip.

He was the first to walk past you, not sparing you a glance. Everyone else followed behind, and you memorized every single one of them.

“Think we found ourself a new personal server” Sanzu winked.

“Can't wait to see the other themes” Takeomi, the hypocrite, mumbled.

“Idiots…” Kakucho rolled his eyes.

The others also had a remark directed towards you or your features. It felt like it took forever just for them all to leave. But even when you reached the end of the line, one lingered behind.

The man that tugged your waist earlier, Ran.

He purposely walked slow, watching as his colleagues exit the room. His hands were tucked into his suit, a small smile formed on his lips.

“You know…”

You looked up at him for one last time that night.

“you’re way too pretty to be working somewhere like this”

Your face expressed that you were puzzled. But your eyes showed admiration.

Ran grabed your hand, placing who knows how many bills in your palm. He had personally handed you the tip, unlike the others who left it on the table.

He left you with a wink that night.

+++

It seemed after your first interaction, Bonten started to have frequent meetings in the club you worked at.

And every time they would request you to be their server. always requesting a full stay.

You couldn’t deny the fact that you enjoyed being their server. They tipped very well. What they tip you a night is more than what you get tipped in a week. And that’s saying a lot.

You even started to pick up on a few things between them all. How Sanzu and Takeomi share interest in the same booze. Or how the Haitani brothers always seem to appear in matching suits. And you even picked up on how they all have the same tattoo, just in different places of their body.

Every time you would serve them they always requested you hand pour the booze yourself. It started to become a natural thing that they didn’t even have to ask anymore.

It also became a frequent occurrence that when you would pour the liquor, they would mess with an accessory on your outfit, or actually tug at your clothing/skin.

On nights you didn’t work or had to call in sick, they would be displeased with the club service. So to make sure that never happened again, Mikey personally took a look at your schedules and changed them himself or worked around it.

He even made you work on your birthday. It’s not like you were doing anything important anyways.

Sometimes they’d even wait till you were done serving a table. Other times they’d tell your manager to find someone to replace you just so you could serve them.

However, one thing you took a major notice in was Ran.

It seemed he was the one who showed more interest in you than the others.

Every night when they left they would all tip you. Ran would always end up tipping you the most, sometimes even more than the others combined. Following his personal handed tip was always a new flirty comment.

“Those clips make you more beautiful”

“Have your eyes always been that captivating?”

“Oh come on doll, it’s okay to smile with me”

He loved the way you’d become flustered at his comments. Always hiding your face with a hand as a shy smile made a way to your lips.

Maybe it was the abandonment issues and loss of touch that made you so interested in him. He probably said this to a lot of girls, right?

“here”

However, one certain night is what made you realize just how much of an interest he took in you.

You hold the cash in your hands, feeling his warm ones slip away. You tilted your head when you saw a small piece of white paper be mixed in with the money.

The paper had numbers on it.

“Is this your number?” You asked, looking up at him.

Ran nodded his head. “Text me if you ever need help with anything. Or if you’re in trouble, or just bored…” He trailed off, offering a sweet smile.

He lifted his left arm, using his hand to brush his knuckles against your cheek, reaching it further back to push strands of your hair behind your ear.

Another moment of you two alone should’ve ended minutes ago. But here he was, closing in on you.

“Ran—” You whisper, placing a hand on his chest as he backs you up into the wall. “don’t keep them waiting” you say, glancing at the open door.

“They can leave, we all brought our own cars anyways” he assures, using his other hand to tilt your head up towards his. “Perhaps you can even go home with me” he suggested, making your stomach twist and chest tighten.

His hand that pushed your hair out of the way lowered down to your waist, bunching up the pink tank top you wore. His cold and slender finger-tips digging into your skin.

“What theme is it tonight? Barbie themed?”

You nervously nodded your head, slowly retracting your hand away from his chest. It felt like a frog was in your throat, you couldn’t say anything but hold your breath.

“Come on now…” He leans his head closer to yours, noses a pinch away from touching. “Tell me I can kiss you. Ask me to kiss you. with your own words” You could feel his breath fan over your lips.

You tried shaking your head, but his hand that tilted your head up by your chin wrapped under your jaw. four of his fingers on the left side of your face while his thumb is on the opposite.

You had to admit that you took the most interest in him as well.

The attention he showed you. The touch you never received growing up. The compliments you never heard.

you loved it.

you loved him.

You slowly nod your head, eyes darting to his lips and back up to his lilac eyes. “Kiss me, Ran” you give your permission.

Without another thought crossing his mind, Ran attaches his lips to yours. He tilted your head more, lowering his own to properly connect your mouths.

He was obviously experienced unlike you. Your eyes were wide, noticing how his own were shut.

He wasn’t rough. He didn’t do it like he was in a rush.

He was patient and considerate.

His lips were warm and soft. His hand placement on your body wasn’t as tight anymore, they had relaxed the second your mouths connected.

you could feel his mouth part as he tilts his head to the side in order to prevent your guys noses from bumping any further.

You didn’t know what to do, which was really embarrassing.

Ran didn’t mind. He was too caught up with your perfume he now had the chance of smelling even stronger. He loved how you didn’t know where to put your hands. He loved the way you tensed your body from the feeling.

He loved having the honor to be the first person to show you such affection.

Noticing the way you started to wiggle he opened his eyes and pulled away—but not by much. Your faces were still inches apart, close enough that you felt each other’s breath.

“Did I just have to figure out that you’re twenty years old and never had your first kiss?”

His tone was teasing, but his eyes showed deep affection.

Your lips were left parted along with your expression being a mix of flustered and bothered.

“Did I just have to find out I'm kissing a twenty-six year old who’s been through many girls?” You finally spoke, words coming out harsh.

The man laughs and leans back a little more, “just girls?” He cocks an eyebrow.

You furrow your eyebrows and scoff, shoving him off of you. “Whatever” you mumble, walking to the table to collect the tips.

He caught your arm before you could get far and pulled you back to his chest, staring down at you with admirable eyes.

“One more before I go?”

Your bothered expression softened to a curious one. “I'd rather you grow a new pair of lips. Who knows whose mouth I'm kissing” you say in a flat tone.

The man just watches you collect the money, folding it into your bra while collecting the glasses as well.

He had to come clean, he loved seeing you work like that.

Ran decided to back off for the night, for he was in no rush to make you two official. He already knew the connection both of you shared was tightly secured, and that it wasn’t going anywhere. He knew he was yours, and that you were his.

“Don’t let that paper go, or we’ll have some problems” He mumbles, leaving one last peck on the side of your cheek from behind.

You didn’t exactly want him to go that night, nor did you want him leaving so soon any other night.

Because when Ran left, you felt alone all over again.

You only had his tips, words, and brief touch to think about for the rest of the night. Then overwhelming thoughts of him treating different women the same way would crowd your mind. You didn’t like that there was a chance this was a one-sided crush.

Even with access to his number you still felt alone. He wasn’t physically there, leaving you alone and no part of him to comfort you.

No one ever showed you the amount of affection and love Ran Haitani did.

Boys in middle-school and high-school would use your family issues as an advantage, gaslighting you into thinking no one would ever love you the way they do. Shamelessly degrading you about the way you act and dress isn’t appropriate for a girl, blaming your family for not raising you right.

Their words would make you cry the second they said them. In public, in their room, at school, etc.

You only realized now how they didn’t apologize when tears stained your face. They were manipulators, leading the situation into making you their doll. Their puppet. Their plaything. Their phase.

Ran didn’t do any of those things.

+++

“Do you like it?”

By now it’s been about a year and a half since you’ve met Ran. And still you two weren’t official.

However, that didn’t mean you two weren’t together.

Ran would try taking you back to his home since it was more secure, but you mostly rejected at first. And you wouldn’t exactly let him go to your home either, for obvious reasons.

So it was mainly meetups at fancy hotels. You didn’t like the idea of him paying for unnecessary things. But his claim was that if he got to see you, then he didn’t care.

Currently you leaned up against Rans chest while he had his back leaning on the headboard of the bed. In your hands was a small open box, soft black texture filling your palms. Reflecting in your eyes was a luxurious silver necklace. The pendent was a locket, shaped like a heart.

That wasn’t even the part that made your body go stiff. It was the way the locket dropped into a four leaf clover shape when you opened it, four different pictures of you and him.

His arm around your shoulders gave you a squeeze, bringing you back to your senses.

You close the box and set it between you two, examining the necklace even more with a smile. “The best gift i’ve gotten all day” you admit, lifting your head up and placing a quick kiss on his lips.

Ran used his other hand to caress your cheek before bringing you back for another loving moment. Though he had to say he was quite tired from the night you two shared. A night like any other when you two meet up at the hotels.

“Happy birthday, love”

Moments like these are the reasons you’re so insecure about moving forward with him. You feared what you two had was too good to be true. That the love Ran offered you was nothing but false hope.

It worsened your trust issues. But it increased your obsession.

“[name]...” Ran had pulled your head more onto his bare chest. “How much longer are we gonna play this game?” he asked, fingers twirling in your hair.

You cupped the necklace in one hand while your other wrapped around his lower stomach. “I don’t follow what you mean” you say in a tremulous tone.

He scoffed past a smile but continued to caress your hair. “I feel as if I’ve given you more than enough time…” he started off, fingers trailing the love bites on your shoulders and neck. “When will the day come that you become my girlfriend?”

It might actually be time for you to admit a dirty secret.

Your main obsession was Ran, obviously. But part of the obsession was that you loved the way he treated you. The way it was basically a game of cat and mouse between you two. How Ran would always do anything to make you happy.

You loved seeing the effort he put into pleasing you. How he wouldn’t stop unless you were officially his. And maybe that was a bad thing for you to take a liking in.

But Ran wasn’t any better.

“The day you ask me is the day I’ll say yes”

“Have I not been asking?”

You separate yourself from the man and lean yourself up against the headboard. “Gifting me things isn’t exactly asking me, you know?” You tilt your head with a smile. “If I knew that was your way of asking me then I would’ve straight up asked you to be my boyfriend” You joke, carefully setting the locket on the hotel nightstand.

Ran slides further down the board, head almost reaching his pillow. He ran a hand through his hair and let out a deep breath.

You lower your smile and instinctively scoot closer to him, pulling his head to rest just below your chest covered in his loose tee. His own arms easily snaked around your waist as he adjusted himself to your touch. Loving the feeling of your nails running over his scalp.

You found it fascinating how much Ran loved being babied and taken care of by you. How he would easily fold when your arms wrapped around him. You probably enjoyed moments like this more than when he takes care of you.

“There’s this thought that runs in my mind everytime I think about you,” he admits. The tone in his voice was one you’ve never heard before. It sounded shaky, almost as if he was going to break down. “I fear that if we don’t get together then…then the beautiful children of Ran and [name] won’t get to experience this world”

Of course. Why would anyone expect Ran Haitani to be straight with his feelings?

You pulled a strand of his hair, making him laugh and dig his head into your stomach to yank his hair out of your grip.

“You are way too annoying” you rolled your eyes.

Ran calmed to a natural smile, agreeing with your statement. “Yeah, but, you’re the only one who puts up with it. Makes us perfect for each other, you know?” He asks, turning his head which then gives him the opportunity to stare at your features.

“Ran, just ask me already”

“Ask you what, sweetheart?” He teasingly shuts his eyes.

“Don’t make me ask it first, idiot”

Ran pushes himself up and sits on the back of his legs. “In no universe will I let you ask first” He sternly states, playfully shoving your leg. It reminded you that he still has that childish mindset, most likely due to the fact he had to push it aside to raise his brother.

He grabs one of your hands, pulling you to sit up straight. “[name] [last name]-”

“erm…” you hum, scrunching your face.

Ran’s face drops. “Oh my- okay fine” he clears his throat. “[name], my long time secret, will you be my girlfriend, and promise to become my wife later on in life?” he asks, lips curving back into a smile.

Another example of what you meant by your obsession.

You smugly smile and bite your lip as a instinct reaction. “I mean…we have been seeing each other for a while now…” you trail off, never meeting his eyes just to spite him.

“So yes, I will go out with you”

Ran didn’t even give you a chance to do anything after answering him, for he launched forward and engulfed you into his arms, rolling along the bed. The laugh you two shared was muffled by the kiss you both leaned into.

Ran was so happy to the point he didn’t let you go for the rest of the night. You two ended up sleeping sideways on the bed, fortunately it was big enough so your feet didn’t dangle off the sides. You didn't even need a blanket, his arms were warm enough.

Looking back you wouldn’t change a thing.

But at the same time you wish you paid more attention to the words and jokes Ran would slip in.

That night you two became official should’ve been the first tip. Ever since then it became obvious by his constant neediness and random times where he would mention it.

You always brushed it off as a common thing a man was interested in when behind the bedroom door. You were always safe anyways—most times. And even when you weren’t properly safe you always had a backup plan, but that was never needed because every test came out negative.

So imagine the thoughts running in your mind as you look down at the stick with two lines in your hand.

You couldn’t help but feel as if you owed this to Ran. All the gifts he gave, the attention he offered, etc. And it’s not like you ever shut down his idea of having a family.

You dropped the test back onto the counter, shaky arms trying to hold yourself up as you slid down the wall behind you.

Three different tests, all of which came back positive.

You were already halfway through college. You weren’t in the proper position to become a mom.

Oh but at the thought of having some part of Ran left behind when he goes on oversea missions brings comfort to your heart. The image of being a young and beautiful mom was also interesting.

Nevertheless, you wanted to complete college first. You didn’t want to end up like your mom and just get your GED just because some guy got you addicted to drugs.

You wanted a better life.

But you didn’t know which was the better life.

“[name]?”

Three knocks came from the bathroom door, making your heart drop.

“Is everything alright? What did it say?”

#ran haitani #ran haitani x reader #bonten ran #oneshot #Fluff #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers #anime #tokyo rev x you #romance

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