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raven-awed · 2 years ago

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Defense Lessons

Professor Aesop Sharp x fem reader

Summary: Sharp offers Defense Against the Dark Art lessons to J. Pippin’s new employee.

A/n: Couldn’t resist writing for this sexy professor. I’m hoping to write a part 2! Thank you @minichrismd for the help!

*Not my picture

Professor Sharp opened the door to his office and shuffled in. With a flick of his wand the candles and lanterns illuminated.

His office was immaculate, as usual, a potion master's paradise. His shelves were stocked full of every ingredient imaginable, from Ashwinder eggs to Wormwood essence. There wasn’t a single conceivable potion he wouldn’t be able to brew with this stock.

He sighed, glancing down at the full bag he lugged into Hogwarts with him and dropped it carelessly onto the floor. Slowly, he moved to the attached closet, glaring at the door before pulling it open. A frown formed on his face as looked at the crammed shelves and the materials spilling over onto the ground.

Sharp was completely aware that he didn’t have the space for any more ingredients, but he couldn’t resist stopping at J. Pippin’s when he saw that y/n was tending the counter.

That’s how this whole mess started in the first place.

Roughly a month ago he had gone in to purchase Dugbog Tongues, as he no longer felt up to venturing into the Forbidden Forest to hunt down his own. Afterall, he wasn’t a spry wizard anymore, unable to maneuver through the thick woods or climb like he used to, especially with his limp.

When the door chimes had rang over his head, he wasn’t greeted by the familiar face of Mr. Pippins, but the warm smile of a lovely stranger. The gruff professor nodded politely as she welcomed him in and introduced herself as Mr. Pippin’s new assistant.

Her good mood must have been infectious because he soon found himself making small talk with her. She had easily impressed him with her potion’s knowledge and her eagerness to learn and improve. Perhaps if his students were more like her, he’d have more hope for the future.

He huffed again, looking at his recent purchases on the floor. Now everytime he found himself in Hogsmeade, he made some sort of excuse to see her. He dragged a hand over his face, he was too old to be acting like such a fool. He shouldn’t be getting so worked up over a pretty face anymore, even if she was pleasant to talk to.

Grabbing the new supplies from the floor, he unceremoniously shoved them in the closet and slammed the door shut. He’d deal with that some other time.

In fact, a certain red headed Gryffindor came to mind, he’ll be overjoyed the next time he sneaks in here to steal ingredients. Sharp could just let him know everything in the closet up for grabs, but it was more fun to make him work for it. That Weasley boy would rob him blind if Sharp isn’t careful.

The week progressed as usual, lessons, potion brewing, sending students with minor burns or cuts to the hospital wing. One student had managed to singe his eyebrows off, it was probably the most memorable event of the week.

By the weekend, Professor Sharp was ready for a break, he went to the Three Broomsticks by himself and had a few drinks. He didn’t see y/n on his way over when he passed the potion shop, just Mr. Pippin assisting a couple of customers.

He sighed as he finished his last drink of brandy, setting the empty glass on the bar and rising to his feet.

The autumn air was brisk and the sun was beginning to set as he started walking back to the castle. On the bright side, he saved a few galleons by not spending anything at J Pippin’s, that man already has enough of his salary.

As he slowly headed back to the castle, Sharp froze when he spotted y/n walking towards him, or to be more precise towards Hogsmeade.

A wide friendly smile made its way on her face as she waved at him. “Good evening, Professor Sharp!”

He nodded, “Evening.”

She looked a little less composed than normal, her hair a slightly out of place with leaves sticking out, she was wearing pants instead of her typical uniform she wore at the shop, and there was mud caked onto her boots.

“Did I miss you at the shop?�� She asked, her voice was light and sweet. “I was just out collecting some ingredients in the forest.” She held up her sack.

He shook his head, “I’m already set for the week with ingredients.” And probably for the rest of the year, he thought to himself.

They continued to walk towards each other, meeting halfway. Sharp narrowed his eyes and immediately pulled a handkerchief from his coat pocket, “You’re bleeding.”

“Oh?” Y/n blinked in surprise while the older man began to clean the blood from her temple.

“What happened out there?” He asked firmly, on the outside he appeared as calm and collected as ever, but he’d be lying if he said that his pulse didn’t start racing at the sight of y/n hurt.

“Poachers,” she answered quietly. “Didn’t know I was so close to their camp before they attacked.”

Sharp frowned, lifting the handkerchief to get a better look at the wound. The cut was long and gushing blood, there also appeared to be some dirt mixed in.

“I’m alright, really I am,” she tried to reassure him, placing her hand on his.

“We should go to the hospital wing, have the nurse check it,” he suggested.

“It’s just a scratch-“

“There are all sorts of things out there in those woods, could get infected if you’re not careful,” he explained. “Come on.”

“But I should really take these back-“

“Your health is more important,” Sharp pointed out. “Parry will understand.”

Sharp escorted y/n to the castle and up to the hospital wing. He lingered while she was examined, sitting quietly with his brow furrowed, while he mulled things over.

It wouldn’t be reasonable for him to ask her not to go back, especially with her line of work. Perhaps he could suggest that next time he could accompany her, however, as a retired auror he knew that dangerous witches and wizards were everywhere, not just lurking in the Forbidden Forest.

From what he had seen y/n had proven to be a capable witch, skilled at potions and quite knowledgeable about other subjects, maybe with more support she could learn to properly defend herself. She most likely knew the basics, but he could show her a few more advanced spells, help her be prepared for next time.

Sharp cleared his throat, his dark eyes locking onto hers as the nurse finished treating the wound. “Starting next week, I’d like to offer you lessons.”

Y/n lifted her brow and tilted her head, “Potion lessons?”

“Defense against the dark arts lessons,” he stated, rising to his feet. “With some practice, I’ll have you ready to take on any dark witch or wizard.”

He acquired a practice dummy from Professor Hecat and brought it up to his classroom. He flicked his wand and all the tables and potion stations moved to the side clearing the space in the center of the classroom.

They met once a week for lessons, Sharp taught y/n advanced spells that were not part of the basic curriculum as well as strategies he had used back when he was auror. Sometimes two seemingly unrelated spells could be a powerful combination if used in the right order at the right moment.

Sharp’s main goal was to get y/n more accustomed to using these spells, make it so it was second nature for her to defend and attack if posed with a threat. The only way for that to happen was practice, lots and lots of practice.

Her nerves and discomfort were apparent from the beginning. Her hand would tremble slightly each time she attempted to produce a combat spell.

“Defensive magic wasn’t exactly my favorite while in school,” she explained one day as Sharp pushed the practice dummy in front of her. “Was always too much pressure, too much risk, I didn’t want to accidentally hurt anyone.”

Sharp sighed, “Unfortunately the world doesn’t share that mindset, cause out there,” he gestured to the window, “There are plenty of witches and wizards who couldn’t care less who they hurt, and if you’re not prepared, you’ll wind up injured again or worse because of one of them.”

Y/n nodded, taking his words in, she hadn’t shared with him how shaken up she had been after the attack. In all honesty, she was quite scared that something like that would indeed happen again.

“Let’s retry that spell,” he directed. “And no holding back this time. It’s important to have conviction when casting, remember that.”

Y/n practices the spell a few more times, getting better with each turn. She wondered if Sharp is this patient with his actual students; she had graduated from Hogwarts before he took on the role of Potions Master.

“You’re improving,” Sharp pointed out as they finished for the evening. “I’ll see you next week.”

“Good night Professor Sharp,” y/n smiled, heading towards the door.

He frowned for a brief moment. “Y/n?” He called.

“Yes,” she answered, spinning around on her heels to face him.

“You know, it’s unnecessary for you to call me ‘professor’,” he said, his hands clasped behind his back. “You aren’t my student.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” y/n pursed her lips for a moment. “Mr. Sharp…?” She addressed him, but unsure as the words left her mouth.

“Aesop would suffice.” His eyes remained as cool as ever, but in truth the matter had been bothering him for quite sometime now. Her referring to him as Professor Sharp presented a hierarchy when there shouldn’t be one, or at least he didn’t want her to think there was one.

“Oh, alright,” she responded, a little wide eyed, heart fluttering more than it should. “Good night Aesop.”

A barely noticeable half smile formed on his lips as he prepared his classroom for the following morning, it even remained as he retired for the night.

In the weeks that followed, Sharp observed y/n’s growth, she had become more confident and casted spells with ease. But besting a dummy in the safety of a classroom was nothing like a real duel.

“Today we will be doing something different,” he explained while shucking off his coat and laying it on the back of his desk chair.

Y/n tilted her head, face heating up as Aesop also removed his tie and vest. “What did you have in mind exactly?”

“Dueling,” he answered with a smirk.

Her face fell, “Me duel you?”

His smirk grew, “I’ll go easy on you, but this is the best way to see how you’d fare in an actual fight.” Aesop drew his wand, “Ready?”

Y/n raised her wand but she hesitated to cast a spell, Sharp, however, didn’t.

“Expelliarmus,” he shouted.

“Protego,” she responded just in the nick of time, deflecting the curse.

Flashes of lights lit up the classroom as the duel evolved into a dance as they circled each other. There wasn’t a single pause or lull between spells.

“Depulso!” Y/n blinked in surprise when the spell actually landed, sending Aesop flying back. Immediately she rushed over.

“Aesop!” She knelt beside him, her hands cupping his face as he groaned slightly. “Are you hurt?”

Her touch was so light and gentle as she cradled his head. It had been quite a long time since anyone touched him like this.

Looking up at her so close to him, his face began heating up. Sharp cleared his throat, “I’m fine.”

“Looks like you can hold your own in a fight,” he commented, rising to his feet and dusting himself off. He frowned for a moment as his own words sunk in. “I suppose that means you don’t need anymore lessons,” he explained solemnly.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she agreed, with a hint of disappointment in her voice.

They both stood at the doorway, realizing that they wouldn't be seeing each other anytime soon.

Sharp could try to go back to the shop, but he knew after spending so much time in his classroom that she had noticed his well stocked shelves. He racked his brain for another excuse to spend time with her but he was drawing a blank.

He sighed, glancing at y/n, she had probably had other things to do tonight, “Well, good night-“

“We should get drinks!” Y/n chirped, interrupting him. Her face revealing her excitement over the prospect. “To celebrate and as a thank you!”

“As a thank you?” He asked, raising a brow.

“Yes! For teaching me how to properly defend myself! Nothing big,” she rattled on. “Just drinks and maybe dinner. Does next week work for you at the Three Broomsticks?”

Aesop smiled, “See you next week.”

#aesop sharp #aesop sharp x reader #professor sharp #professor sharp x reader #female reader #reader insert #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic

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dtmacgxstorys · 8 months ago

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Aesop Carl X Reader!

This is an Aesop Carl/Embalmer X Gender Neutral Fluff! Probably some cursing. (I never have a solid plan, I just write whatever comes to mind!)

Note: Aesop doesn't love easily and probably wouldn't show it in normal ways. I do NOT see him as a yandere, though!

Sign note: I Am An Aesop Mine! I love him SO Much!

You have lived in The Oletus Manor for almost 4 years. You're a friend group consists of Eli Clark, Andrew Kreiss, Victor Grantz, Tracy Reznik, Luca Balsa & surprisingly Aesop Carl. Aesop It's a very reserved man. He would much rather spend this time tending to the dead than talk to others. One day, 2 years ago, you were trying to get away from everybody and accidentally find his secret Oasis. Behind a painting, there is a little hallway that leads to the little room. Aesop has in the room at the time.

"What are you doing here? How did you find this place?" Aesop asked you. "I'm so sorry, I just wanted to have some peace and quiet & this painting moved & so I went behind in an-" He cut you off by saying: "You may stay as long as you stay quiet." "... t-thank you." Is all you said before sitting across from Aesop. A few months ago, while sitting in silence in that room, Aesop surprise you by saying: "... you know, I actually don't mind your company." "T-thanks, Aesop." You said, hoping he can't see your blushing face or hear your pounding heart. You are the type of person who falls in love hard & fast. You didn't need to know anything about him to fall for Aesop, but him saying that maybe you almost to lose your mind.

Shortly after that incident, your friends found out about your crush. "You have a crush on Aesop!?" Both Luca & Tracy said at the same time in disbelief. "... really!? HIM!?" Victor said with a little bit of venom in his voice. "... are you sure, Y/N?" Eli asked. "You guys are acting like I said that I'm in love with a demon! Have any of you even truly talked with him?" Your friends all looked at each other when you asked a question. "... he's an Embalmer who much rather talk w-with corpses than the living." Andrew finally spoke up. "So!? That doesn't mean, No, I KNOW that doesn't make him a bad person!" You spate out. "Y/N, that's not what we are trying to say!" "He doesn't have human emotions." Victor said, hugging Wick close to him.

A few months after Aesop told me he didn't mind your company, you heard a knock at your door, but when you opened it, nobody was there. You look down to see a letter and a golden rose. The front of the letter said, "Open in three days." "Pritty handwriting, I wonder who it's from." You think to yourself. Two days after reserving the letter, Aesop approached you at breakfast & timidly asked, "... c-can I join you?" "Of course!" You said. Luca & Tracy almost never wake up for breakfast, Andrew & Victor were sitting elsewhere, so for today at least, it was just you & Eli. "...are you good, Aesop?" Eli asked. "I'm fine." Aesop told him.

Aesop also asked to join you for dinner, but, unfortunately, for both of you, Luca, Victor & Eli were already setting with you. "Why do You want to sit with them anyway?" Victor asked with that same venomous tone as before. "Yeah, get lost(under his breath) you necrophaliac." "What The Fuck Luca!" You Yell at him. "Guys, please, calm down." Eli said. "...I'll just sit elsewhere." Aesop said. "Aesop..." You say, glaring at your friends. "He's a monster, Y/N." Victor said. "You deserve SO much better." Luca chimes in. "Luca, calling him that was completely uncalled for." You spate at Luca.

You couldn't even finish dinner. You just stormed off to your room after yelling at Luca. You flop face first on to your bed. Some time passed by, and you're starting to regret not eating. You heard a knock at the door, and you expected to see Eli with some kind of health snack. He did have food, but it was Aesop. He couldn't make eye contact with you, though. "... I noticed that you didn't eat dinner, so, I brought you snacks." He said. "Thank you Aesop! Would you like to come in for a while?" You ask him. He just stands there for a moment, even though you can't see his face that well, you can tell that he's a little shocked. Without saying anything, he comes into your room.

He sits at the foot of your bed and hands you your favorite fruit bar. "Thank you Aesop." You said sitting next to him, but not too close. You didn't want to scare him off. "So,... do you want to talk or sit in comfortable silence?" You ask him. "Silence, please, but, please est." He said. "Oh, ok!" Is the last thing you said before opening your fruit bar & eating it. Sometime after you finished, he asked, "you still don't mind being near me despite all the rumors around me?" "Yes, I don't believe any of them!" You replied. "And you don't mind that I work on the dead?" "No." You said looking at him with a small smile. His quickly looks away after making eyes contact you.

"You ok Aesop?" "... h-have you read my letter yet?" "Oh, it's from you!? No! You wrote on it on it to open it in three days. That's tomorrow." You replied, a little bit surprised to learn it from him like this. "So I can trust you!" He said, looking at you. He pulls down his mask, you can only see his beautiful unmacked face for a moment before he kisses you on the lips. Your eyes widened in surprise, but you quickly close him and kiss him back. You are pleasantly surprised to feel him scoot closer to you & place his hand on the back of your head & run his gloved fingers through your hair.

After a little while of passionately kissing, you both pull away for air. "... I never thought I would feel this way for anyone again." "Again!?" You ask him. "... I don't want to talk about it right now." "Ok, so what do you want to do?" "... to tell you the truth, I want to spend tonight cuddle you and holding you close." "Sound good to me!"

End!

#identity v x reader #idv x reader #aesop carl #Aesop Carl X Reader #idv Aesop Carl x Reader #fluff #idv embalmer #idv embalmer x reader #Embalmer #Embalmer X Reader #Gender Neutral

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aesopsharpmybeloved · 1 year ago

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Tess' Sharpuary - 3. Wheelchair

Aesop hated that he needed it, and that he felt grateful to have it. But now it was time to say goodbye.

chapter specific tags: trauma, healing, friendship

relationships: aesop sharp & reader, aesop sharp & abraham ronen, aesop sharp & dinah hecat

3. Wheelchair (2k)

tw: trauma, grief, canonical character death

Aesop hated that wheelchair.

No, that was not entirely right - he hated the fact that he needed that wheelchair. From the first moment they sat him into it to wheel him over to Ashley’s funeral, he hated the blasted piece of wood and metal. That first day, he felt entirely powerless to do as much as try to operate it himself, and instead let people push him around. The healers, his mother, Dinah… He barely spoke, only gasping for breath occasionally when a particularly insistent sob fought its way through him. He didn’t even climb back into his St Mungo’s bed from it afterwards. He felt so completely empty, that he wouldn’t have cared if they left him sitting in it the entire night.

Later, he hated that he was grateful for it.

The healers insisted that while he was in pain, he was able to walk. He’d just have to use a cane and pain-relieving potions. The Auror was very tempted to tell them to go fuck themselves. They couldn’t heal him, and they were making it out to be some sort of blessing that he’d be able to walk as long as he drank copious amounts of Wiggenweld potion and hobbled around with a cane. A blessing, in Aesop’s opinion, would’ve been the ability to walk like he once had. Walking hurt, even with the use of cane and potions, and Aesop found himself to be glad when they allowed him to sit back down into his wheelchair again.

After they finally allowed him to go home, the first thing he did was check up on his stock of alcohol - and promptly started to get rid of it down his throat. He didn't know how many days passed then. All he knew was that while he was in his own house, the wheelchair was now his only home, and it was his prison as well. He hated it like he hated himself, but it would seem he’d have to learn how to live with both.

Or did he?

It was this thought that brought him back to the hospital, and into Dinah Hecat’s wrath.

His second stay in St Mungo’s was even less pleasant than the first one, as now he had to suffer through near-constant surveillance, and the only time he was allowed outside of his room was when Dinah herself was pushing him around the pale corridors and bringing him outside for some fresh air. Aesop still believed that it was what he deserved. It was what he deserved for causing her, and the other people who for some reason still cared about him, distress. He deserved it for what happened to Ashley.

It would seem he would be forced to accept the reality after all.

—

But then he didn’t.

After all, while Aesop’s home had been slightly modified to accommodate him, namely his bedroom moved to another room downstairs, there were still things he couldn’t exactly do while sitting down, like shaving in front of the mirror or brushing his teeth. That is, he could do these things while sitting down, he could enlarge the handheld mirror to be able to shave properly without leaving his wheelchair, or he could ever bring the new mirror in his bathroom down to his current height, but being used to do things one way for so many years made it all seem like more of an inconvenience than it already was.

And this, along with much, much pestering by Dinah, resulted in him bracing himself into a standing position to tend to his routine. More and more, he found himself leaving the comfort of his wheelchair to perform his tasks. And then, when instead of going through the tedious process of lifting himself onto the bed to remove his clothes, then moving to the wheelchair again to traverse the short distance from his now bedroom to the bathroom, awkwardly covered by his dressing gown, only to once more transport himself out of the wheelchair and onto the seat conjured in his bath, he actually got up and walked. Aesop knew he couldn’t rot away in that blasted contraption forever.

It wasn’t an easy process - he got tired quickly and had to either sit down, or brace himself against something often, but every single day, he found himself relying on his wheelchair less and less. His leg hurt, but it was far from the unbearable pain it was when the wound and the memory were fresh.

And then one day, he looked for his wheelchair throughout the house, only to realise that it was in his bedroom, and it had been there since the previous day. He had not used it at all.

He looked at the device with contempt, his head held high as if mocking it. Aesop Sharp stood mostly straight, only partially leaning his weight on the doorframe. He suddenly remembered why he was looking for it - him standing over his cauldron, working on yet another experimental cure didn’t do his leg much good, and he was hoping to rest a bit. He wouldn’t. He stared at the wheelchair, barely blinking, and reached into his pocket for a vial of Wiggenweld potion. He made it this far already, he was not about to give up now.

And yet, when he sent his things to Hogwarts for his very first year of teaching the young minds the art of potion-making, the wheelchair had been one of them.

Better safe than sorry, Aesop reasoned. After all, even after he began using his own bedroom on the first storey of his home again, Hogwarts still had a considerably larger amount of stairs, and one never knew when he’d need the rest. For the first few months, he carried it around in his coat pocket, shrunken to the size of a playing die, and ready to be used whenever. It almost happened a few times - but then, just when Aesop thought he’d fish it out of his pocket, enlarge it again, and sit down, he stopped. The tip of his finger traced over the miniature object. He considered for a few seconds, but in the end, he always decided to just power through it.

Dinah occasionally said that while she was delighted Aesop seemed intent on getting better, perhaps he truly should take a break from time to time, but a single look from him was enough to discourage her from saying anything else on the matter. He was a stubborn bastard, and he knew it was one of the qualities she liked about him the most.

The wheelchair stayed in his room the other year. And the one after that. And the one after that as well.

In the blink of an eye, he hadn’t used it for years, the very object he thought he’d never truly leave. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of it.

A voice in the back of his mind kept discouraging him from doing so. ‘What if you need it again?’ it asked, its voice unbearably annoying, ‘what if it gets worse, and you’re not able to walk again?’ Aesop always angrily shut it down. There was no way he’d allow himself to once more descend into that blasted thing, he’d do anything he could to prevent such a scenario. And yet… and yet it remained there, in the mess that he called his chambers, catching dust that would only be wiped down over the summer when he wasn’t present.

—

When he returned to his bedroom, it was already getting light outside. He was completely exhausted. It’s been a decade since he last had a chance to fight like this, and his body kept the adrenaline in his veins for hours afterwards, only to cut him off the moment he stepped over his threshold. He sat in the armchair of his sitting room, looking into the flames. Twenty-four hours prior, he was certain the worst that could happen today was Garreth Weasley blowing up yet another cauldron. And then, suddenly, he was hurling spell after spell at goblins and trolls in caverns under Hogwarts.

He hadn’t felt this alive in… in over a decade if he was being honest with himself. But then again, even though they won, they lost Fig. Fig was a good man, a good colleague… And Aesop might have even gone as far as to call him a friend. He never thought it imaginable that the two people to save Hogwarts from certain doom would be his elderly professor friend and a sixteen-year-old girl. The world was getting stranger by the day.

Those involved in the battle sat in the staff room for hours, discussing what the official story should be. The potions master knew there was more to it, but they’d hardly know just how much more until the young woman who went to the caverns with Fig woke up.

He was the one who brought her all the way to the Hospital wing, not taking a single pause, barely feeling his leg at that moment. He stayed there with her until his presence was required with his colleagues, but promised to return. Not that she heard him…

Now he felt exhausted and restless simultaneously, and he fidgeted with his finger like he usually did when feeling a little lost. The following several days, weeks perhaps, would be mad, of that he had no doubt, and yet, instead of getting some sleep, he was just sitting there, doing nothing. Finally, he scoffed and got up to walk into his bedroom.

But then something caught his eye - his wheelchair. It was, once more, covered by dust, unused and unnecessary, now more so than ever before. Aesop Sharp, who some ten years ago thought he’d never be able to walk again, slayed several trolls and countless goblins tonight, all without the use of his cane. And while the adrenaline was gone now and the pain in his leg was slowly seeping back, his hands closed into fists.

“Can’t sleep either, can you?” sounded from the fireplace after he tossed a pinch of Floo powder into it, and called into Dinah’s rooms. “Meet me by the ruins en route to Hogsmeade,” he said simply, “and Abraham too, please.”

Mere minutes later, the three professors were standing within the remains of the ruined building by the road. All of them knew it well, having passed it hundreds of times during their years both as teachers and students. All of them were in various stages of wear, exhausted and heartbroken, and yet neither of the potions master’s friends questioned him when he summoned them, and simply just came.

Aesop made it a little before his two friends, and he set the wheelchair some ways from them.

“Aesop?” Dinah asked, her normally authoritative voice weighed down by the things that occurred on this cold night. He didn’t answer, only breathed deeply, eyes fixed on the object in front of him. It would seem he needn’t answer, as his colleagues soon guessed why he asked them here.

“My friend,” Abraham said quietly, voice still hoarse from both his tiredness, and the tears he shed for Eleazar Fig, “You know I’m not one to question your judgement, but… are you certain?” Aesop didn’t say anything for the longest time but then gave a single short nod.

The former Auror raised his wand.

“Incendio.”

Not a second later, the wheelchair was engulfed in flames. His friends repeated after him, first Dinah, then Abraham. Soon the flames began licking up his skin, making him feel warmer in the dark night turning into pale morning where they stood.

And even though he knew the following days and weeks would be difficult, even though he now had one more person to mourn, and even though it was now obvious the new Fifth-year was far from being a regular student, Aesop Sharp felt strangely light as he watched his wheelchair burn.

“I bloody well hope classes are cancelled today, I’m way too old to teach after no sleep,” Dinah grumbled next to him.

And despite everything, Aesop grinned.

[AO3] - [Sharpuary] - [Masterlist]

#sharpuary #sharpuary 2024 #aesop sharp #professor sharp #hogwarts legacy #fanfiction #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #fanart #hogwarts legacy fanart #digital art #artists on tumblr #hurt/comfort #reader insert #reader mc #eleazar fig #abraham ronen #dinah hecat

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slytherinsomniari · 2 years ago

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Of Parchment and Desires| Aesop Sharp x F! Reader

Pairing: Aesop Sharp x F! Reader

Summary: You return to Hogwarts 4.5 years after graduation in the pursuit of completing your dissertation. A chance encounter with your former Potions Professor leads to him staying at your cottage while you work. A slight struggle with desire ensues before the two of you are brought together through the paper you have been working on.

Word Count: 3850

Themes: Masturbation, Smut, Teasing, Mutual Pining

A/N: The beginning was a bit hard to do since I had the nighttime stuff written out so I am sorry if it is poorly written compared to the rest of the story. Sorry, I had to insert “Pride and Prejudice” somewhere lol

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Why your professor had decided to help you with your dissertation you did not know. Yet there he was in your room, quietly working while you tried to finish and edit your dissertation on the difference of the effects of potions and charms and the advantages and disadvantages to each in combat and other such situations. Him being in your room was even more strange and you couldn’t quite put together how or why he decided to do so. You had graduated from Hogwarts about 4.5 years ago and had continued your education afterwards, with it culminating in a dissertation like they did in the muggle world. You didn’t expect to get any reward or recognition from it, but you had wanted to make sure you were properly educated before you sent yourself off in the world outside of school.

You had chosen Hogwarts to complete your paper because of the vast knowledge its library had. That and you couldn’t help but want to take another peek at the potions professor after the few years you have been gone. You encountered him after leaving the library with books meant to help with your paper and he had stopped you for a conversation. It appeared he was interested in your paper and one thing led to another and there he was in your room in the cottage you were renting near Hogsmeade.

Snapping yourself back to reality, you turn your focus back to writing the paper at your desk. Professor Sharp sat at the table in the middle of the room grading exam papers and essays, occasionally asking you about your dissertation and the state of its completion. He had stripped most of his clothing on the upper half, leaving him in just a button up, vest, and tie. This sight nearly drove you mad. It was your first time ever seeing him this relaxed and it did wonders to you. He practically matched you in casual wear, with you wearing a button up, cardigan and a skirt. Seeing him like that felt like he was teasing you, but you knew he was only getting more comfortable. Despite this, you couldn’t help but occasionally take peeks at his fine form while completing your work.

Time passed and the endless day turned to night. You assumed he would have left by now but low and behold he was still there, not making the slightest hint of wanting to leave. You had told him he could go to the Three Broomsticks for dinner if he didn’t want anything you made as you were having a simple sandwich, but he surprisingly stayed. You had made the sandwiches and ate yours while you continued to work on the thesis. Once you finished it, you sighed and clutched your head.

Hearing you sigh, he gets up and walks over to you, standing right behind you as he asks, “Is something the matter?”

You quell the shock inside you and replace it with a dejected sigh and a frown on your face. “I’m not sure if I’m explaining this properly. The Invigoration Draught is dangerous to use in combat alongside Felix Felicis as it could severely affect your body once the effects stop working. It could lead to you being easily overtaken in battle and being unable to fight due to the strain but I don’t know how else to connect it.”

He leans down to look at your paper, face mere inches from yours, “Yes, you are quite right. If I may, I’d suggest you expand upon those effects and connect them with your discussion on the effects of the Cruciatus Curse and the extent of bodily and mental harm that can occur.”

Smiling, you thank him and once you realize how close he was, you flush and turn your head. You hope he didn’t notice how your breath caught or how you flushed when he placed his hand on your back as he leaned down. Unbeknownst to you, he did happen to notice, but he convinced himself it wasn’t what he was thinking. There was no way you could love him–a miserly old man with a bad leg. You deserve someone better. Regardless, he had let his hand linger on your back for too long, letting his fingers press into the fabric of your cardigan as he itched to move them, to massage your back and move lower and underneath your shirt. He shook his head and returned to the table, finishing up the papers for the night before he went to bed.

Later that night, you were practically passing out in your chair but despite this you kept on writing. Your dear professor, however, thought that enough was enough. He had seen many students struggle with writing papers until dawn but he did not want you to neglect your health. Besides, you had plenty of time to finish it. He gets up and walks over to you, placing his hands on your arms.

“It’s time for you to rest. Your paper can wait another day without you killing yourself over it.” Pulling you from your chair, he drags you to your bed and puts you on it, placing the covers over you. Despite your protests, your body immediately starts sinking into the bed. You lose consciousness, last feeling your former professor’s hand brushing the hair out of your face and stroking your cheek before he lets go.

Sharp gets into the bed, slipping in quietly next to you. Exhausted, you do not stir from the dip in the bed and continue to rest. He gets ready to attempt to sleep next to you, forcing down the urges that are bubbling up inside him, but tenses when you switch sides, letting your body face him. His body relaxes once he realizes you are not awake and gets comfortable, wrapping his arms around you and bringing you to his chest. Eyes lingering on your lips, he brings his lips down to yours and pauses, trembling from his restraint. His lips ghost yours, just barely touching and it sends electric sparks through him. He wanted you so bad, you were destroying him. The room is eerily silent and the tension is palpable, causing him to nearly give in and claim your angelic lips with his own. However, he knew that if he went through with the kiss he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from carrying on with what happened afterwards. Not wanting to force himself onto you, he makes up his mind.

Painfully, he removes his lips from yours and breathes heavily. He feels an ache in his lower area and grits his teeth. It wasn’t something he would have chosen to do with you there, but he had to get rid of the urge somehow. He places a tender kiss on your head, muttering the words “I’m so sorry” before sitting up and unbuttoning his pants, taking his member out. He strokes it back and forth repeatedly, thinking of you–of what it would be like if you were doing it for him. Or even better, if you had allowed him inside you so he could feel you and hear you moan as he thrusted into you and relieved his stress. He picks up the pace and feels himself tighten up at the thought of your face scrunched up in ecstasy and releases into his hand. Relieved of his ache but not of his desire, he cleans himself up and gets back into bed, wrapping his arms around you as he falls asleep.

You wake up to the sun shining through the window and a fragrant aroma permeating the room. As your eyes adjust, you find a teacup on your bedside table with a steaming cup of Earl Grey tea inside it. Looking to find its maker, you spy none other than your professor sitting at your table drinking a cup and conducting business, reading countless papers and most definitely grading his students’ final exams. He appeared to be at ease in your room, as if he had always belonged there. You bolt up, stuttering, “P-professor? What time is it?”

“Ah, I see you’re up. It is 11 o’clock in the morning. A bit late for you I suppose, but you had worked yourself to a near comatose state. Naturally, I let you sleep in. I hope you don’t mind me staying over, it took quite a while to remove you from your paper.”

“Blimey, that's late! Oh, not at all sir! I am so sorry for inconveniencing you, especially at a time like this. With your students’ exams to grade and all, I would have expected you to leave, so thank you for taking care of me.”

“It was more convenient to stay here and grade them. Otherwise, I would run the risk of one of the students trying to convince me why they deserve a grade higher than Acceptable. An aunt however many times removed dying is no excuse as to why one would score poorly on an exam.” He rolls his eyes.

You snicker, feeling a little bad for his students but at the same time delighting in their misery. The real world was more cruel than that, and if you couldn’t manage to get a good grade on an exam, it would be very hard to get better work outside of school. Speaking of grades, you had a thesis to finish editing. Inwardly groaning, you sit up and sip the tea. It was the best cup of Earl Grey you had ever had. Later you would have to ask him which brand he got and if he had put any milk in it.

Noticing your change of mood, Sharp comments, “It was far easier to grade the exams here than it would have been in my office. I am nearly done and had enough time to write up a few comments on your dissertation. It is awaiting you on your desk for your perusal.”

You get off the bed and take your cup with you to your desk and set it down. Taking a seat, you take a look at the paper and quietly gasp. At your desk was your thesis paper and on it in beautiful handwriting was your professor’s critiques. It was more than just a few comments–he wrote many things from words of encouragement to genuine critiques that would help you improve the paper itself. It must have taken a lot of time and concentration to be able to write this much on your paper. You were touched. It was the first time someone had ever done something this kind for you and you didn’t know how to react. Judging from his comment, however, it appeared he didn’t want to draw too much attention to it so, following suit, you smiled and took out a new set of parchment and started writing the finalized thesis.

Time passes while you write, with you constantly drinking more tea that he has graciously prepared for the two of you. A while later, you hold your breath and read over your dissertation one more time before you turn it in. This would be the only time you would do it, so you had to make sure you got it right. You get to the last sentence and once you finish, you let out a sigh of relief as you have now finished it. Smiling with tears in your eyes, you get up and run over to Sharp and hug him, giggling and telling him you were done. He gets up from his seat and hugs you properly, congratulating you sincerely. You bury yourself in his chest and inhale his scent, soothing yourself with the smell of his cologne. Looking up, you stare into his eyes and realize what you are doing. It must have been such an embarrassment seeing his former student carry on like this but despite wanting to crawl into a corner and become one with the nonexistent mold, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

Sharp stiffens as he comes to the same conclusion as you. He didn’t think it was possible for you to like him that way but based on your reaction, you at least favored him and certainly didn’t mind kissing him. With your lips parted and your face tilting upwards, he tentatively presses his lips to yours, testing your boundaries. You give into the kiss, pressing into him and letting him know that you wanted this. Once he feels your lips permit the kiss, he deepens it in a passionate fury. His grip on you tightens as his need for you explodes. This is what he wanted from the previous night–you in his arms kissing him and heading towards the moment he’s been waiting for for so long. His change of speed takes you by surprise, forcing you to stand on your toes and lean into him to keep yourself steady.

At the same time, you had also wanted this for a while. When you were at Hogwarts, you had harbored a crush on your potions professor but like other girls, you didn’t expect it to go anywhere and graduated without anything happening. You couldn’t believe that you were kissing your former professor and the fact that you were thrilled you. You whimper into the kiss, legs shaking as you can’t hold out any longer. His hands travel across your body, pulling your shirt out and going underneath your top, reaching for your cleavage. You hadn’t worn a corset, instead opting for stays, but this prevented him from fully touching you and made him grunt in disapproval. He removes his lips from yours and makes fast work of the laces and loosens it, taking your cardigan off and unbuttoning your shirt. He slides it off and helps you out of your stays and chemise top before he reclaims your lips once more, finally pawing at your breasts. He works them as he dominates you again, rubbing your nipples and kneading your breasts. Moaning at his touch, you open your lidded eyes enough to look towards the bed.

His eyes are drawn to where you are looking, seeing the bed the two of you desired. Heat filled both of your bodies as you gave into temptation and lust. Directing your two bodies, he brings you to the bed and onto it. Not wanting him to take charge just yet, you decide to tease him a little by pushing him to the headboard of the bed and getting on top of him. His groan upon impact grows once he understands what is happening. Nipping at his lips playfully, you leave quick and lengthy kisses while you remove his vest. Taking it off, you get rid of his tie and unbutton his shirt, taking the time to rub your hands on his chest and appreciate his fine physique. You let the shirt slide off of him and he wraps his arms around you, desperately in need of you.

However, you weren’t done just yet. You nuzzle into his neck as you roll your hips into his, drawing out his response. His hips buck into yours and you moan, his neck muffling the sound. Agony is all Sharp could feel at the fact that he is not properly inside you. Your hips sensually rock back and forth, enticing him with your slow pace. Attempting to regain control from you, he drags you onto the right spot, placing you directly on his penis and ensuring you would feel the hard bulge with every movement. It pressed upon your entrance deeply, forcing you to reconsider your actions as you let out a simpering moan. You could feel a wetness begin to form and knew you were ready. Lifting yourself up, you begin to get off of him when his grip on your waist tightens.

“Sir…”

“Aesop. And we’re not done yet.”

He forces you back onto him as he grinds into you, rubbing into your aching pussy. Just as you teased him, he’s doing the same to you. This time, however, he will make sure you finish the job. Your body grinds with him and you embrace him, moaning every time he touches you. He picks up the tempo, pulling you with him as he grinds into you. Feeling it build up, you lean back and let out a loud moan, cumming all over yourself. Some of your fluid spills out onto your legs and glistens in the light of the day. The mere sight of this entices Sharp to spill his own seed into you, and that he will make sure to do.

With your face flushed, you murmur in a sultry tone, “I don’t think we’ll be needing these anymore.” Unbuckling his belt, you pull his trousers down and off him, placing them on the floor and drinking in the sight of his enormous length. He is huge, so huge that it makes you shiver with excitement. Pulling you close to him he says, “The same goes for you, dear Y/N.” With that, he grabs your skirt and unbuttons it, sliding it off your body alongside your soiled drawers. The clothes land in a heap on the floor as he tosses them aside, eying your body.

Hands grab your waist, flipping you onto your back as Sharp takes his place on top of you. Already getting started, you feel him ready himself as he pushes your legs far apart and places himself at your entrance. The feeling you get as he pushes himself into you is pure ecstasy and causes you to moan in surprised delight. The sheer size of him stretches you out but at the same time feels like the perfect length inside you.

“Oh god, Aesop” You whimper, “You’re so big.”

His arousal peaks at an all new high at your comment, pressing into you even more and sending a blissful sensation through your body. A calloused hand cups your face as his lips gently press against yours, landing a soft yet dominant kiss on you. “You feel just right around me Y/N. You’re doing so well.” That was the calm before the storm. As soon as you are ready he begins his attack.

He starts going at a breakneck pace as punishment for your teasing of him and you love every moment of it. You wrap your arms around his torso, digging your nails into his muscled back as your legs cling to him. His grunts mix with your moans, creating a harmony of pleasure.

“Aesop” You mewl as he thrusts into you particularly hard. Eyes scrunched, pleasure jolts through you as you let yourself feel his desperation as he moves inside you.

“Louder” He growls, lunging into you with the same harshness. His need fills you with unending desire and you do your best to please him.

“Aesop!!!”

The sound of his body hitting into yours increases at hearing you call his name. His name soon leaves your lips and is replaced with heavy cries as you lose all thought. Nothing could be heard in that room for a while except the sound of two bodies coming together with power pairing with the exquisite sounds coming from both of your mouths. Your pussy grows incredibly wet and sensitive, tingling at the sensation of Sharp grabbing one breast and fondling it. He rolls it around in his hand before placing his mouth on it and biting down. A whimper escapes you at the feeling of his mouth sucking on you and his rough tongue licking at your nipple. His tongue toys with it, knowing the right moves to make you buck into him to chase the high he was giving you. His lips leave your breast, leaving a trickle of saliva as he turns towards you. Looking you in the eye, he sees the ecstasy written on your face and adores you for it. He loves you and the fact that he was having you at that moment, like he had always dreamed of, even when you were his student. In the sea of love, the two of you clashed bodies, each thinking of the love you had for the other.

Your lips meet his in a fevered kiss before you feel a familiar tightness in your body. His body tightens as he too reaches his limit. The two of you pick up the pace as you both chase the remaining high left before your coinciding climaxes. You groan into the kiss and break apart, throwing your head back and arching your body. Hitting your peak, you orgasm with a final moan and let your fluids run down you. Sharp cums right after you, unloading himself into your satisfied cunt. You hum in contentment as the warm feeling fills you up, making you feel complete. Getting up, he plants a loving kiss on your lips and lays down, pulling you to him.

“I suppose this isn’t the worst congratulatory gift you have received so far.”

Turning towards him, you trace a finger on his chest and reply, “I’d say it is by far the best gift I have ever received, and that’s saying something. I place you first, right above my special edition of Pride and Prejudice I received for keeping up my grades when I was a student at Hogwarts.”

Rolling his eyes, Sharp retorts, “I’m happy to find that I rank higher than a book. Didn’t realize my competition would be so…difficult. I shall have to make you even happier if I am to compare to such an honorable opponent.”

“Hmm, I don’t think it will be that easy for you. You have to defeat Mr. Darcy after all and he’s a charmer, albeit a bit grumpy at first–not unlike a certain someone I know.“ you hummed in thought, cheekily smiling at the last bit.

“I wonder how ever I shall endeavor to defeat such a man who struggles against his better judgment to confess to the one whom he loves. I suppose it may be simply solved by saying this plainly: I love you, Y/N. I would love to court you, to marry you, to live with you for the rest of my life and tie you down to a miserable lonely man such as myself.”

Tearing up a little, you respond, “To that I say, yes, a thousand times yes. I would love to be with you and live with you–to deal with your sour attitude and whatever odd habits you may have.”

Chuckling, he looks at you in adoration, “Well then, that was easy. I wonder why it took your precious Mr. Darcy so long to court Elizabeth. Perhaps it takes a better man to see the beauty in front of him and accept it, rather than scowling about and using his despicable nature to wreak havoc on the lives of others.”

Your snort turns into laughter and you bring yourself to him, wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his chest as the two of you fall asleep in each other’s arms.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy x reader #aesop sharp #aesop sharp fanfic #aesop sharp x reader #professor sharp x reader #professor sharp

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coffeeandmagicaltales · 9 months ago

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The Auror & the Devil part 18

Aesop Sharp x adult MC

Disclaimer: ANGST

She stood at the top of the hill, from which the view of the Hogwarts Valley stretched out.

It was so beautiful here.

The evening mist slowly enveloped the surroundings bathed in the reddish-golden glow of the setting sun. The sea of dark hills—menacing, wintry, and wild—vanished somewhere in the distance, beyond the horizon, against which lazily drifted fluffy clouds filled with snow. Hmm... She hadn't thought that leaving the castle would be so painful, because Hogwarts was not just stones bound together with cement and a pinch of magic. It was made up of people, memories... Her friends, everything she had experienced here so far... Everything, both joyful and painful...

The first moments as Professor Fig's student, not knowing what fate awaited her... She drifted away in memories to the moment when she was summoned to his office, climbed the winding stairs eagerly anticipating what her professor had in store for her this time, what task she would have to fulfill... She expected to see his smiling face and that mischievous twinkle in his eye... Instead, the first thing she saw was a hunched, very tall man speaking in a rather harsh tone. She was somewhat frightened by him, not knowing who he was. When he heard her footsteps, he fell silent and changed the subject, then headed towards the exit, casting her an unpleasant glance. She vividly remembered those dark eyes staring at her sternly and intrigued.

The "Hmph" that escaped his lips as he passed her, as if he had immediately judged her and probably labeled her as "conceited" and "impudent" because she dared to return his gaze sharply, not knowing he was a teacher...

How did it happen that this completely unknown man became someone she couldn't stop thinking about?

"Morana?..." She trembled hearing his soft voice behind her. Aesop stood a few steps away, shyly lifting his gaze from the ground, glancing at her from time to time. He was wringing his hands as usual when he was nervous or embarrassed. She thought about just abandoning everything and flying to Durmstrang under the cover of night, but... She wanted to see him, even if just one more time.

"I thought you wouldn't come..." she confessed very softly, blushing with embarrassment.

"I'm mad at you, yes, for being a stubborn goose instead of a crow, but... it doesn't mean I would let you go without saying goodbye..." his voice broke slightly, he tried to cover it with a clearing of his throat and changed the subject. "Have you found someone to help the Dimms?"

Mora smiled faintly and nodded. "Sirona, she'll manage, such a brewery is her little dream, once she has hers, she'll have the experience."

Aesop seemed not to hear her response, feverishly thinking about what to say to buy a little more time in her presence, to be with her for a few more moments. Morana approached a few steps closer, looking at him tenderly, in a way that made him feel awkward... yet, he greedily wanted more of it, those looks, her touch...

"Write to me sometimes... I'll be curious about what's happening at Hogwarts..." she whispered with a trembling voice, standing just a step in front of Aesop, and the wind tousling her long hair made it occasionally brush against his clothes, carrying the scent of hops...

"I promise. I want to investigate what's been happening here lately on my own, I'll definitely write to you about it... You have my word."

Word? His promises?

Did they really mean anything when this woman stood on tiptoes, and he without hesitation leaned slightly to let their scarred cheeks touch for a moment? That tiny caress, just a brush, made his heart, after years of dormancy, start burning with a living flame, and his body was seized by a celestial ecstasy. He felt her so close, the warmth of her body, which, though still not touching his, was very, very close, just half a step away... That scent, the rhythmic sound of her breath, the rustle of her hair moved by the wind, brushing against him...

Well, he kept his word. He wasn't her friend.

He was hopelessly in love with her.

He desired her. He longed for her to allow him to touch her body and for her to lay her hands on him... He dreamed of her beautiful, shapely lips uttering words that would give him permission to tightly embrace her against his bare chest, showing her that his heart beats only for her... He would give his life to feel through his skin the rhythm of her heart, breasts moved by the breath that he eagerly would take with kisses...

It spun in his head, and pain pierced his chest. He spoke in his mind as if it mattered. As if he were worthy of her... He was just an old cripple with no future.

He stepped away, not knowing where to look so she wouldn't see tears in his eyes.

"It's so hard for me to bid farewell to such a talented student; Durmstrang will benefit you..." he forced out, cursing his fear, his disability, his age, the pathetic words he uttered, ashamed of his feelings for her. The whole embarrassing conversation, the artificial phrases, and the teacher-ish tone behind which he hid, like a shield, just to avoid hearing that... Morana doesn't reciprocate his feelings, and that he'll lose her forever.

That would be the end; he would take his own life knowing that he simply went mad for her.

Morana didn't look his way, gazing sadly at the horizon submerged in the pastel blanket of pink clouds, whose charm lost any meaning for her and equated to a muddy puddle. What good is beauty when it can't stop the tears streaming down her cheeks? Her heart fluttered, startled by words she didn't want to hear, she felt cold inside. They hurt her. She didn't expect to hear that from him, despite the thousands of scenarios she had played out in her head for weeks, planning this encounter... His words were utterly hollow, as if he had spoken them to any of her classmates... She felt terrible, disappointed, and somewhat offended.

"How could he!?" flashed through her mind, but... what did she really want to hear? What was she expecting? What did she want?

All she felt was a monstrous tearing apart. Ridiculous desire to possess him. Incredibly selfish, yet she couldn't describe differently what was happening inside her. That fear mixed with anger at herself, the excitement caused by the closeness of this man's body, with whom she wanted to merge and make love... Here and now, to be his only. She felt like she would tear apart anyone who dared to come near him, who dared to look at him... That was wrong.

Ridiculous. Pathetic. Childish.

Their sorrow-filled gazes met.

"Goodbye, Aesop," her words were carried away by the wind, she turned on her heel and hurried away. She ran towards the horizon, quickly catching her breath, while the icy wind stabbed tiny daggers into her lungs. She was running away from Hogwarts, from all the memories and feelings, not wanting them to hurt her. She threw herself into the abyss, turning into a raven so quickly that Aesop didn't even have time to react, stunned by her sudden departure. He stared blankly ahead at the majestic creature soaring high above the clouds, his mind in complete disarray...

"Mora..." he whispered, and when he realized she was truly far away, he began to run towards her, stumbling and limping, as if hoping he could still catch her. "MORANA!" he shouted with all his might, looking around to see if by any chance the crow hadn't left yet.

He stopped just at the edge of the cliff, desperately shouted her name a few more times, each one quieter than the last, barely moving his lips.

He was left alone.

His heart pounded wildly, and his mind was in turmoil. It was the end.

He felt such terrible, wrenching pain that he collapsed to the ground and wept, clutching his chest. His heart was bleeding, and no magic or medicine could cure it. Only the closeness of Morana's body could heal him; the touch of her hands, lips, voice, scent...

"What have I done?"

Time seemed to lose any meaning.

He didn't know when he reached the castle, didn't know who he greeted at the entrance passing by the prefects. His mind seemed to fall into some abyss, into a deep well, from the bottom of which he barely heard the words spoken to him.

From time to time, he took breaks leaning against the stone walls, wandering through the castle, as if he had lost his sense of direction. His thoughts wandered too. He didn't know whether he was dreaming or awake; everything seemed unreal, distant, abstract...

"Sharp!" he heard like an echo of the headmaster's voice and somewhat regained his composure. Black approached him, and his unsympathetic expression softened slightly. Aesop must have looked terrible if Phineas' eyes showed pity.

"I... ehm... Of course, if you're up to it... please do something with that portrait again... I need to get rid of it because the former headmistress won't let me live... She's asking something from you again... Until she stops bothering me, I'll be staying in Professor Fig's room..." Aesop nodded, Black glanced at him with concern and quickly walked away, probably fearing that Sharp might faint or something would happen to him, and it would be on his conscience.

Aesop appeared at the Floo Flame, just before the entrance to Keeper's Hall, and struggled to descend its stairs, limping towards its center.

"Professors, you wanted to see me," he muttered, not lifting his gaze.

"Allowing Morana to leave Hogwarts before she finishes her education wasn't the wisest move..." explained Professor Rookwood. Aesop remained silent.

"Well..." Rakham interjected, disappointment easily detectable in his voice. "We're only concerned about the safety of the power she possesses... We don't want it to fall into unauthorized hands, or be subjected to certain influences..."

"I don't quite understand," Sharp growled, increasingly irritated by this meeting.

"Durmstrang, really?" Parcival grimaced. "That's a nest of Dark Magic and people just waiting to manipulate a young woman for their own purposes!"

Sharp snorted with laughter.

"Oh, the irony... Four people who almost sent her to her death are saying this."

"Could you have at least tried to stop her!" Rookwood snapped. "Everything's gone to waste, everything we've worked so hard for... You don't care at all, Professor!"

"I don't care!" Aesop hissed. "She's the only one who matters to me. HER! What do you know about her!? Hm? She's not a vessel for some magic, but a woman who has the right to decide her own fate and go where she wants. You don't care about her, she means nothing to you, she's always been just a pawn in some game to save the world!"

"Please, control yourself, Professor..."

"I let her go because I love her," Aesop confessed in a sharp tone, the professors immediately exchanged glances.

"Your own student!? That's unacceptable," Professor Fitzgeralt scolded him, to which he only responded with a snort.

"Leave me alone, I don't want to hear that you want anything from me anymore." He turned on his heel, slowly limping towards the door, then threw over his shoulder in a dark tone. "Otherwise, I'll burn this place down."

End of part 18, thanks for reading.

#hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy oc #professor aesop sharp #hogwarts legacy meme #aesop sharp x mc #professor sharp #hogwarts legacy #aesop sharp smut #aesop sharp

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julietpricee · 1 year ago

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Day 5 - Sharpuary (Dungeon)

18+ only!

This fic will always be known as 'The crossover you didn't know you needed'...

TW - Smut, explicit language

It was a quiet Friday evening in The Three Broomsticks with only a few people inhabiting the pub. The majority of students were spending their free time studying for their upcoming O.W.L.s so your recent shifts had thankfully been a lot easier and much, much quieter.

Sirona joined you behind the bar, after taking her break, slapping a thick book atop it with wild eyes. “Muggles are freaks,” she whispered.

“What?” You replied swiftly, bursting into laughter.

Sirona slid the book over to you. “My muggle friend lent me this, and said it’d change my life.”

“Fifty shades of grey?” You read out loud.

“Pure filth.” Sirona giggled. “Take a look.”

You leaned your back against the bar, flicking the book open to a random page, clearing your throat as you began to read aloud. "He undoes the buttons of his jeans and slowly pulls his jeans down, his eyes on mine the whole time. He leans down over me and, grasping each of my ankles, quickly jerks my legs apart and crawls onto the bed between my legs.”

You look up into Sirona's eyes and begin to chuckle. “This is just porn Sirona.”

“It’s literature!” She corrects you, hitting you playfully with a rag.

You look back down at the book, scanning ahead slightly before reading aloud once more. “He thrusts his finger inside me, and I cry out as he does it again and again. He palms my clitoris, and I cry out once more. He pushes inside me harder and harder still.”

“I hope he took you out for dinner first.” A gruff voice called out from behind you.

You threw the book back at Sirona in embarrassment as you spun around to see Aesop’s smug face chuckling at you as he perched himself on the bar stool in front of you.

“It’s Sirona's book, not mine!” You pleaded whilst your face turned a bright shade of red.

The two of them fell about laughing as you timidly started to pour Aesop a pint of his favourite ale with your head hung low. Aesop was one of your regulars, he’d often sit at the bar to keep you company on a Friday and Saturday night. He was a big flirt but completely harmless and rather handsome, so you definitely didn't mind.

“Go on then Sirona, pass it here,” Aesop said through a thick exhale.

Sirona slid the book to him, raising her eyebrow at you curiously. He took one look at the cover before turning just as red as you did, realising what book you were reading from.

“What’s the matter Sharp? Can’t even make it past the front cover?” You teased him.

He grinned to himself before pushing the book back to Sirona. “I’ve actually already read it.”

You glared at Sirona who matched your look of surprise. “Bullshit” Sirona spat at him with a wide smile.

Aesop awkwardly scratched the back of his head and took a big swig of his beer. “Yeah… I confiscated it from a student a few years back and curiosity got the better of me.” He scoffed before admitting “I read it in one sitting.”

Both you and Sirona fell about laughing. “You’re kidding right!?”

“Grey just felt relatable to me, what can I say?” he replied, giving you a flirtatious wink.

Sirona rolled her eyes. “That’s my cue to leave.” She walked from behind the bar leaving you and Aesop alone as she made her way around the pub, talking to the few customers it had.

“How has your day been anyway Aesop?” You asked him whilst starting to wipe the bar down.

He took another sip of his beer before answering you. “Ah you know, same old, it’s thankfully quiet and uneventful in my dungeon.”

“Your dungeon?” You inquire curiously, leaning towards him across the bar.

Aesop chuckles a little embarrassed. “Nothing like the dungeon in that book.”

“Well, that’s a shame.” You smile at him flirtatiously.

Aesop matches your smile and places his hand over yours, stroking his thumb gently across your knuckles. “That doesn’t mean you can't have any fun down there.”

His touch ignited something lying dormant inside of you, changing your entire persona. His eyes were hungry, but you were practically starved, screaming silently for him to fuck you right there on the bar.

“I think I’d like to see this dungeon,” you confess in a rush of confidence.

“When does your shift end?”

After helping Sirona close the pub and without telling her a word, you sneak down to the Hogsmeade entrance to meet Aesop, successfully avoiding her motherly lecture. When Aesop first started showing an interest in you, Sirona pulled you aside to warn you about him. She explained how the students were terrified of him because of his stern and gruff persona, but the more you got to know him, the more you realised it was all a facade to intimidate weaker souls. Sure he was strict and dismissive at times, but he was also witty and charming… and so, so handsome.

The walk down to Hogwarts felt oddly intimate. He wrapped his scarf around you, submerging you in his musky scent and walked close enough to you that your hands constantly brushed against each other. He shared more about himself and his job at Hogwarts and made sure to ask you questions about your life. It was the best date you’d ever had… and it wasn’t even a date.

Aesop ushered you through the castle, being careful not to be seen by any stray students or lurking professors. Since it was so late, the castle corridors were thankfully almost completely empty. Soon enough, he brought you into a large classroom filled with cauldrons and workstations, taking your coat and removing his scarf from your neck, hanging them up alongside his own.

“Welcome to my dungeon,” he announced, shutting the door behind you.

You took a few steps into the room, stopping at a workstation to look around and take in your new surroundings. You suddenly felt a gentle presence behind you as Aesop pressed his chest against your back. He softly moved your hair to one side, before placing his large hands on your hips. His mouth then found its way to your exposed neck, leaving sensual kisses from your collarbone up to your ear.

“Like I said, there’s plenty of fun to be had here,” he whispered to you.

You quickly spin around, leaning your back against the workstation as Aesop moves his hands to either side of you, effectively trapping you in front of him. You practically fuck the man with your eyes as you stroke your fingers up his arms, and let them finally rest around the back of his neck.

“I’ve been thinking about kissing those lips from the moment I met you.” You admit to him.

He smirks, enjoying the newfound effect he has on you. “Well then, I better not keep you waiting any longer.”

Without hesitation, Aesop leans in and plants a quick, gentle kiss on your unexpecting lips, teasing you to no end. His coarse hand firmly grasps the side of your face before he pulls away to reveal an enormous grin plastered across his face. You feel his long thumb run softly against your cheek and practically watch a fire ignite in his eyes as he leans back in to kiss you with an even deeper desire.

Your fragile skin is attacked by his sharp stubble as he moves in closer, further immersing himself in the steamy exchange. His free hand finds its way to your rear, giving it a firm squeeze and encouraging a gentle moan to escape your lips. You feel him smile as he presses his lips harder against yours.

Soon enough, he pulls away to allow you a breath but rests his forehead against yours. For a brief moment, he closes his eyes and you see him savour the moment for himself. It was obvious that the poor man was touch-starved and this simple makeout session was enough to move him. His eyes softly opened and locked with yours as both of your arms remained wrapped around each other.

“...I don’t want to do this here,” he hesitated, “not like this.”

You offered him a kind smile, understanding his decision. “Ok,” you replied matter-of-factly. “I’m free next weekend, I think you should buy me dinner.”

Aesop chuckled. “I’d like that very much.”

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53448181/chapters/135539740

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fandom #professor sharp #aesop sharp #professor aesop sharp #aesop sharp x mc #daddy sharp #hogwarts #aesop sharp x reader #aesop sharp x oc #professor sharp x oc #professor sharp smut #professor sharp x reader #aesop sharp smut #sharpuary #sharpuary 2024

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emblemxeno · 6 months ago

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Man I hate the fire emblem fanbase so much it is hurting my enjoyment of the games. They can nitpick every little thing about Engage's and Fate's story, but watch out if you point out that Edelgard blaming the church for her experimentstion and not, y'know, her uncle who she KNOWS is an Arganthan, or how it doesn't make sense that the disappearance of 9 royals was swept snugly under the rug in the empire, or how Jeralt was suspsicious of Rheas doing to Byleth what she did to HIM, and suddenly you're a "hater" and "you have bad taste" and " lack media literacy".

3houses has the same storytelling issues Fates and Engage have, but bc the game has big tiddy lesbians and "I can fix them" traumatized characters = best JRPG since FF7. Fuck right off bruh. I'm so tired.

It does lend a lot of chances to be hypocritical in the fandom yes.

For as much as people can hate about Engage's time travel and magic stuff, or anything regarding Valla in Fates, at least those are purely fantastical. Does it erase the problems? No. But "magic world has magic things that don't need to always be explained in great detail" is-or at least should be-a sufficient explanation.

3H's issues, meanwhile, are almost always logical, informative, and communicative. Edelgard's war is predicated on logic jumps built upon exaggerated issues, an inflated ego, a savior complex, and half truths, and she herself is a canonical liar and manipulator. 3H's worldbuilding is based upon taking NPCs, books, and character biases as fact, despite there being known cover ups in Fodlan's history; to the point where it's not even fully known whether the other Hresvelg siblings actually exist. Jeralt is supposed to be 100% trustworthy as your dad, but being vigilant means you'll probably realize he's kind of shit and did a poor job properly teaching Byleth growing up.

Fates might have the Valla curse and a magic truth throne, but those things have a simple A -> B explanation and impact on that game's plot. It's easy to criticize because it's easy to understand.

3H on the other hand, you have to constantly twist yourself into a pretzel in order justify every angle and every motivation for every character in the game, mostly in service of not overly shitting on Edelgard's character, which usually results in kowtowing to her fans by shitting on Rhea, Dimitri, the church and Faerghus or, in my eyes, giving up and claiming "no one's completely in the right and that's why the story's good in the first place!"

From my perspective, if this happens, where someone can't form a rock solid opinion on even just how they personally feel/think about the writing, then either they need more time to themselves instead of online discourse or (where I lean) the writing they're discussing simply isn't that good enough to warrant engaging with its bad faith fans.

Side tangent that doesn't really fit but I wanted to say it anyway: Other FE games' moral dilemmas worked as well as they did because they were ornamental; a spice to the main emotional and thematic thrust of what their stories were trying to convey. Even the more complex examples like the Tellius and Jugdral games, weren't trying to sell their stories based on "look how complex and morally gray everything is", they were natural elements of war stories that supplemented the more major storytelling beats (Tellius' discrimination aesop, religious and political dogma, class warfare, and Jugdral's geopolitical inheritance feuds and territorial disputes, blood quantums, and passing the torch to the next generation).

3H's main drive... is the moral grayness. War horrors, comparisons between peace time and conflict, and constant conversation over "what the other side's justification is" while trying to "fix Fodlan." And the sloppy, fractured, and overly bleak attempts at nuance exemplified in the story is precisely why moral grayness shouldn't be the main factor. But people ate it up because... well, the prose wasn't too shabby I guess.

#fire emblem discourse #edelgardiscourse

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darkdevasofdestruction · 2 years ago

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Troublemakers ~ Aesop Sharp x Gaunt!Reader

Summary: Just a little story of Aesop and his best friend and childhood sweetheart going on an adventure that turns out to be more than they could take on, which ends up as one of the catalysts between them losing contact after Hogwarts... Only to end up meeting against, at the most unlikely of places, over a decade later.

“I am SO bored.” Y/N sighed dramatically, plopping on the couch next to her best friend, Aesop Sharp, a particularly brilliant half-blood that excelled in DADA and Potions especially. It was no surprise that the two would always pair up for Potions, they were a terrific duo and the teacher always praised them. “Not much room for new adventures, unfortunately.” the boy with long, chestnut hair nodded his head in agreement. “There is so much exploring to do at Hogwarts, but we’re stuck here, with no lead.” Y/N suddenly turned to her friend, grabbing him with the arms desperately. “You’re the future Auror, aren’t you? You’re supposed to smell danger and adventure! Do something!” the poor boy looked weirdly at her, putting his hand over her wrists and suspending them in mid-air. “Calm down, you little troublemaker, I’ll think of something. I always do, don’t I?” he offered a mischievous smirk. “Now, how about you stop bothering me and you do something useful with that energy of yours - Like, for example, retrieving THAT book you promised me?” no doubt, he was referring to her having promised to sneak into the restricted section of the library to find more advanced potions and dark arts spell books. After all, how better to know how to guard yourself against the dark arts, if not by learning about them? That is an Auror’s job. “Right. I almost forgot.” the girl muttered, nodding lightly. “A’ight! What’s the time... Ah, yes, just the perfect time for a raid. I’ll see you tomorrow - At our spot.”

The Slytherin girl hopped off the couch, wearing a mischievous grin as she swiftly exited the Common Room, leaving Aesop behind to gaze at her gorgeous swaying hair. “You’re going to be the death of me, little lady.” unbeknownst to even himself, his otherwise sardonic expression was replaced with a soft smile. He never could deny the way Y/N made him feel, from the very same day they met, and he stood up for her when getting bullied by other Purebloods for being a complete embarrassment not only for their House, but for every respectable Pureblood family such as her own. Aesop could never stand injustice, and though he wasn’t usually one to go out of his way and solve others’ problems, the situation was getting out of hand. He hoped at first that, if he were to befriend the lonesome girl, people would stop targeting her - And although she seemed to be significantly livelier, and he couldn’t believe how kind and tender she was. He couldn’t comprehend the reason behind her bullying, save for needless fanaticism.

Regardless, Aesop never once regretted his instinct, which led to this beautiful friendship of theirs - And, perhaps in the future, even more. He did appreciate how diligent she was in her studies, oft times even passing him in various subjects altogether. Her conviction of becoming a Healer was commendable and it was yet another thing which brought them together - Their love for practical studies and saving people, though in different ways. The young man was cheeky though, and there was no end to his resourcefulness, especially when it came to intentionally practicing more dangerous spells and getting injured, only for the pretty lady to fawn over him with worry and tend to his wounds oh so gingerly.

He, the strong knight in shining armor, protecting his beautiful damsel in distress, who would heal all his injuries with a sweet kiss. Ridiculous thoughts such as this one always did make him chuckle with amusement. To think that even someone so cynical and pragmatic like himself would be capable of daydreaming of romantic scenarios was outright hilarious - Not that he minded though, it was a rather pleasant way of passing the time when relaxing or falling asleep.

The next day, just as promised, Y/N waited for her friend at their secret spot, a room only known to them, and she was already peaking at the contents of the book. As soon as she heard the door opening, a smile instantly graced her features as she jumped to her feet. “You will NOT believe what I found!” the girl chirped immediately, only to take a good look at the boy towering over her. “Have you been dancing with the mooncalves the whole night? You look positively disheveled. Get over here, you.” with a smug smile, the boy stepped in front of her and bent slightly at the waist, allowing her access to his hair and clothes to fix properly. He’d lie if he said he didn’t enjoy it - His own mother always fixed his dad’s clothes and hair before going to work, and now he completely understood the appeal. His mum sold him this cheeky tip, saying that girls love doing this, just as much as boys do. “I’m not quite sure I could match mooncalves at their dance.” Aesop joked lightly. “But would you like to match other people?” the girl asked, looking down with a smile. Aesop’s brows furrowed a bit for a few seconds, only to let out a soft ‘oh’ sound. He remembered now, a crucial thing that he missed. Though it wasn’t announced yet, everyone knew that all students in their terminal year were invited to a Ball reserved only for them, as a graduation celebration. How could he forget? Silly him. “Well, perhaps that wouldn’t be so bad, if only I have the right company by my side.” he said, gently holding her hand into his own and planting a kiss on her fingers. “That is, only if you would join me.” “Ever the charmer. I wouldn’t even consider going without you.” the sweet blush on her cheeks only made her even more beautiful, if it was possible. “Now, look here - This book has some really nasty stuff, like the Unforgivable curses and even Horcruxes or... How to raise inferi!” “You’ve struck a mithril mine.” Aesop’s fascination was pooling in his eyes, as he swept the book from the girl’s hands and brought her over to the couch to read together.

With the stress of their NEWTS all gone, and euphoric smiles on their faces thanks to their imminent success, Aesop and Y/N were able to enjoy the Graduation Ball at their leisure, without any kind of responsibility left. On the evening of the Ball, the young man dressed his best, checking himself in the mirror a hundred thousand times before going to the Common Room and waiting for the girl of his dreams to descend down the stairs from her dormitory. He wasn’t the only one waiting, and lots of boys his age were anxiously fidgeting on their feet, left and right, waiting for their dates to come over.

One by one, beautiful lady after beautiful lady appeared in sight, and was immediately met up with her date, and guided to the Great Hall, where the Ball would take place. Finally, Y/N too appeared in sight, rendering Aesop breathless for the first time - That gorgeous updo of hers, leaving her supple neck revealed, and her cleavage adorned with an expensive necklace of gold and precious gems, that dress made of the best velvet and silk, and embroidered with small, twinkling diamonds - She looked like the brightest star in the night sky. She was glowing, and Aesop Sharp was feeling head over heels in love with Y/N Gaunt.

There weren’t many words exchanged on that day, as they were both rather embarrassed, watching their crush being so positively perfect. Still, nothing stopped them from having fun together the whole magical night, and dancing together until there was no other couple left around. Though bashful, it took a single look into his warm, dark eyes, a single gaze at that tender smile of his, and Y/N’s arms slowly wrapped around his neck as she leaned in to steal a little kiss from him. The little vixen wasn’t allowed to just be a thief and run away, however, as Aesop trapped her closer to his body, and with one hand on the back of her head, he deepened the kiss.

It was supposed to be the beginning of a beautiful relationship, started in their last week at Hogwarts, however, things never end up the way people want.

Two days after the Ball, Aesop came over to the girl, telling her he’s found clues for a new adventure - Finding Salazar Slytherin’s Scriptorium. Y/N frowned, looking away. She was skeptical of such a discovery - After all, no good ever comes out of dealing with Slytherin’s things. It was true, in a way, she could understand his policy of training only purebloods, in fear of having the whole wizarding world completely destroyed; However, that fanaticism and fear only brought misfortune and destruction, not only for himself, but for all the Pureblood lineages to come. Y/N knew that better than most.

“I don’t know what to say, dear, this is... This smells like a trap. Like, like... Like something bad’s going to happen if we meddle with him and his cursed antics.” Y/N tried to persuade him, only to end up getting kissed, a charming, adventurous smirk on his face. “And if anything happens, I’ll protect you. Aren’t I your knight in shining armor?” he laughed it off carelessly. “This is so much more than that, Aesop! Slytherin was known for playing with dark magic - I cannot even begin to imagine the implications! It’s not that I’m fearing for my life, but that I’m fear for you, more than anything. You know my family and how obsessed they are with muggle-torture and killing - Why else would I have gotten disowned? Regardless - The things I’ve seen, the things I’ve experienced - I wouldn’t wish them upon anyone! Anyone, Aesop! I mean it!” the frantic monologue was cut off by a kiss. “And I’m going to become an Auror - Isn’t that the perfect way of seeing whether or not I’m even cut for this job? Come on, Y/N, where has your braveheart disappeared?” he tried to convince the girl, only to see her hanging her head and shaking it in disbelief. “I’m going to regret this for the rest of my life. I take no responsibility if anything happens to you. I warned you! I did - You can’t blame me for anything that happens!” Aesop rose a quizzical eyebrow, seeing her so frightened, unable to even meet his eyes - Could things really be that bad, considering the Scriptorium was supposed to be in the safest place alive - Hogwarts? “Come on, I know the entrance.” The young man allowed himself to be guided by the wrist to some corridor, and watched as the girl revealed some braziers, before litting three of them on fire. “You already knew of this.” “Of course I did, who do you take me for? I stepped in this place, and as soon as I saw how vile it is, I left.” she spat, angrily. “Move along.” she nodded his head at him to follow inside the pitch black corridors.

Y/N cast Lumos to create some light, and once she did, Aesop already rushed to cast Reparo on the broken relief shattered all over the floor. All of a sudden, the soft sound of hissing echoed through the short corridor. “What is that?” Y/N sneered in annoyance and went by the door, touching it. “Are you sure you want to continue?” the girl received a frantically positive answer, she sighed and started speaking in Parseltongue to open the massive door. “Here goes nothing.” “What was that?” the young man asked. “Parseltongue, of course. Only the Slytherin’s own bloodline is capable of speaking with snakes.” she explained, just as the door behind them slammed shut and locked. “Yes, of course, how bloody likely!” the girl cursed angrily. “Don’t worry, I think I’ve found the door forward. It has these two symbols on it, see? And this snake statue too, is sitting on rotating stone engraved with the symbols. If we just match the order, then... Aha, yes, just as suspected! See, dear? The door opened?” with a smug, victorious smirk, Aesop threw open the doors and continue forward, with Y/N on his tail, watching as he quickly moved between the next two doors to open them.

When he was done opening the final one, they were led to yet another corridor, filled with cobwebs on the walls and on the ground. Aesop went to the ominous looking door before them, only to realise it was perfectly locked, and it had no puzzle mechanism, nor riddle to open. Behind them, the door was slammed shut, and nothing Y/N did could get it open. Y/N cursed Slytherin with very unlady-like words, and it was then that Aesop realised why Y/N was so terrified of pursuing such an adventure. They were ultimately stuck in a small corridor, with no resources and no way of escaping. He doomed them both.

“Maybe if you speak to the door, it will provide some answer?” the boy tried to suggest, only to see the girl crouching to the ground, her head in her hands. “I don’t need to speak to it. I already know what it wants - And I cannot give it! I will not do it! I refuse -- I can’t do it!” the poor lady whimpered so strongly that it made Sharp fall to his knees in front of her and gather her up in his arms. “What is it, tell me? Some kind of dark magic? I know you don’t want to do any kind of dark spell - You’re not like your family - But if there’s anything I can do, I will do it, alright?” the girl nodded slowly. “The door - It... It wants to witness torture. It... It’s cruel, it... It wants to hear and witness nothing but anguish and sorrow and torment. I... refuse. I will not - I will not cast the Cruciatus Curse on you, even if I have to die here, starved and dehydrated.” the girl growled softly. “If casting the curse is the only way forward, then you’re our only means of getting out of here! Y/N, you’d be saving us, come on! It’s just once, and --” he tried to reason with her, only to find himself being pushed away, and onto the ground, as the girl stepped away from him. “WHAT WOULD YOU KNOW OF CURSES?! IT’S NOT LIKE YOU HAD TO EXPERIENCE ANY OF THEM!” the girl yelled at him. “Just once, you say? JUST ONCE IS ENOUGH TO CORRUPT ANY PERSON INTO BECOMING DEPENDENT ON CURSES! Next, you’re going to say - Oh, an inconvenient person, I’ll just kill them! No big deal, yes? Oh, that guy doesn’t want to do what I say? Imperio his ass!” Aesop remained silent, watching the girl he loved breaking before his eyes. He shouldn’t have pursued this stupid adventure. They had just a few days left, and he ruined it. “Keep me out of this. I will not cast it on you. If you want to escape, just cast it on me, I don’t care. I’m used to it, I can take it. But I will not be forced to cast it. I almost died, I ran away, and I got disowned, just to escape this. I will not back down now.” her back was turned to him, and he could see her small form trembling in the dim light offered by his wand. He sighed, feeling ready to smash his head onto the adjacent wall out of frustration. How could he possibly be coerced into torturing his own girlfriend? That was... That was impossible! He was a gentleman, and he was supposed to save his beautiful maiden, not... Not throw her in danger and torture her, just to escape.

But they couldn’t stay there forever, could they? They had to somehow get out of there, before they lose all their senses. “Y/N, my love, we need to get out here. I will not force you to cast it on me... Even though it should be me, on the other side of the wand, not you. A gentleman should never hurt a lady, let alone his own lover.” he gently went to her side, embracing her and kissing her temple. “But if you refuse to cast it on me, the only other way of escaping is if I cast it on you. Will you ever be able to forgive me? Not only for this, but for getting you in this mess, against your will?” “I told you... I’m used to it. It doesn’t matter for me. If we get out of here, all the best. As long as I don’t do it... It’s fine.” her mumble was so soft, that he had to strain his ear to hear. “Come on, we have to do it in front of the door.” she guided him on the opposite end of the corridor, placing him into position. “You know how to cast it, don’t you?” he reluctantly nodded. “Good. At least that.” she muttered to herself. “Whatever you do, you must NOT stop until the door opens, understand?” though reluctantly, Aesop nodded. “And you MUST mean it, otherwise it won’t work. Pretend... Pretend that I angered you some day, or... Uh... Imagine something bad. Doesn’t have to be true. As long as you get angry, you can mean it.” Aesop gulped, raising his wand - But a single glance at the girl was enough to shatter his resolve. How could he possibly curse his girlfriend? “I can’t. I can’t. Merlin... I can’t.” “Then I guess we’ll just die here.” came her harsh voice. “In the name of Salazar, you are SO pathetic. How in the bloody hell were you sorted in our house, anyway? Incompetents like yourself don’t fit in. Surely, that dusty old hat must have made a great mistake, allowing a half-breed like you to step in our sacred house of Slytherin.” Aesop’s eyes widened with shock - He’s never heard Y/N speaking so harshly, nor with words so disgusting. No, he understood, she was trying to piss him off so much that he will be forced to cast the curse on her. Damn it all. “If you think you’re going to become an Auror, you’re seriously deluding yourself. Look at you, unable to even cast a simple curse. Do you think the dark wizards are just going to wait for you to disarm them? Oh, look at me, I’m a small, simple-minded graduate, all I know how to cast is Expelliarmus! I’m going to rid the wizarding world of all dark wizards! Whooo~! And they are going to throw their wands away when they see you, the ever intimidating child. Goodness, you are absolutely ridiculous. No, not even ridiculous, you are laughable. The laughingstock of Slytherin. Incompetent, good for nothing, half-breeds like you should just go back to the muggle world where you belong. You are not wanted, nor needed in ours.” her acting was exceptionally good, he realised - Were all of these words that her own family yelled at her for years on end? “What can you even offer me, anyway? Status? Wealth? Fame? Purity lineage? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You are a nothing, Aesop Sharp, and you will forever remain that way - A nothing.”

All of a sudden, the corridor was illuminated a bright, blinding red, and Y/N fell to her knees, shrieking from the familiar pain she was experiencing. It was hell - No, worse than hell - A searing heat, like getting electrocuted, surging through every vine, every capillary, every nerve and synapse, to the point of going crazy.

The amount of torturous torment she was feeling almost felt like the comfort of her own home, the warmth of the anguish mixed together with the freezing cold misery she was suffering with every second spent in that house, among those people. But it was fine, truly, it was - It almost felt like the gentle arms of death were there to hold her and reassure her a gentle road to the other side, and the angels were singing her hymns in her name.

Instead, it was Aesop holding her and dragging her into the Scriptorium, away from the cursed corridor, afraid that it might lock up and they’d have to repeat the process once more. It was an experience neither of them wished to repeat, no matter what the cost of it. “I’m so sorry, my love, please forgive me. Y/N, are you awake? Can you hear my voice? Merlin -- Please, wake up, please, Y/N, wake up already.” “I’m awake, mum.” the girl grumbled, trembling softly as she got up from his arms. “I’m okay. Truly, I am.” she dragged a hand down her face to properly wake up. “I told you, I’m used to it.” “Can you... Can you walk?” he asked, offering her to lean on him. “Yes, yes, I’m all good. Erh-- Now that we’re here, let’s look around, see if we can find anything of worth.” she said, though not refusing the helping shoulder of her lover.

The atmosphere was eerily quiet and uncomfortable, a heavy pressuring aura falling over, making them feel suffocated. Thankfully, Y/N found a chair to sit in whilst Aesop waltzed around the Scriptorium and investigated every little thing before settling for some books, ingredients and a cauldron, before helping the girl get up and leave through the door - Only to end up in their secret place. How? Unknown. But they weren’t going to question it anyway. They really needed to rest and forget about everything that happened.

With the ending of their beautiful educational era at Hogwarts and the beginning of their young adult lives, Y/N became a fantastic emergency Healer at St. Mungo’s, whilst Aesop became a renowned Auror, getting rid of dark wizards and what not, two little prodigies in a bast world filled with an ocean of skilled witches and wizards. A life so busy, that it made them lose contact ultimately, and for years on end, Y/N and Aesop stopped sending letters altogether... Mostly because the Auror was afraid of endangering the beautiful maiden, yet he had naught the heart to tell her the reason behind not replying to her mails anymore.

But one’s dream was bound to shatter rather swift into his otherwise pristine career, as Sharp and his partner were working on an assignment, where they got ambushed by the evil-doers, resulting in a severe injury for himself... And the fatalist ending of his partner’s life. Watching a friend die before his very eyes was never easy, nor having the torturous curse cast on him - Was this the blazing agony that Y/N felt when he cast it on her, that evening, in the corridor to the Scriptorium? Was this what she was feeling, whenever her awful family wished her ill for not obeying their evil orders, and she had to be punished?

Y/N... My beautiful Y/N... Will I ever see you again? Aesop’s thoughts flew in a crazy disorder around his mind, as he lay on the ground, helpless, staring in the dead eyes of his partner.

He closed his eyes, thinking himself succumbing to the darkest pits of death, only to next open his eyes and see bright lights, blinding even, and the ethereal face of an angel, in the likeness of his lovely Y/N, sitting on a chair, holding his hand, her sleeping form leaning on the edge of his bed. He quickly realised her thumb was carefully placed over his artery, to feel his pulse, to feel if he was alright. It wasn’t an angel, and he wasn’t dead either. His sweet Y/N was taking care of him.

“You’re awake?” the girl asked, unmoving, as she felt his body stir. “Yes... I think so.” came his gruff, hoarse voice. “How long--” “Two days.” Y/N slowly rose her head, looking out of the window. “Three, actually.” she quickly corrected herself. “How are you feeling?” “I, uhm... My leg... It hurts like hell.” Y/N nodded grimly, looking down at the floor. “There was nothing I could do about it. The curse they cast on you... So far, nobody found a cure for it. The pain will come and go, and it will get better, and worse, sometimes from the season, sometimes from the cold, or overexertion... Sometimes, for no reason at all. You will need a cane... And a moderately sedentary life style.” Aesop looked at her with disbelief, only to feel a wave of surging agony cramp up his entire leg. He tried to cling onto it and bear the pain, only for the girl to give him a potion to relax. “I’m sorry, Aesop. Every Healer in St. Mungo’s tried everything - We even went over the very old and slightly less efficient spells... But nothing worked.” “So... You say I’m stuck with an office job?” Y/N nodded solemnly. “Guess it’s time to resign.” “I’m really sorry. I know how much being an Auror meant for you.” she spoke softly, only to see him wave his hand dismissively. “I am alive, aren’t I? My partner wasn’t as lucky. I may not continue my life as an Auror, but I can do other things that will have some meaning and impact. Besides, I have to find a cure.” he offered a small smile as the pain subsided. “Won’t you help me?” “No.” she curtly cut him off. “I know why you stopped owling me, but I did not appreciate the rudeness. I think I deserved better than complete ignoring.” Y/N gave him a sarcastic smile. “Rest well.” “Wait, Y/N--” he called after her, feeling suffocated. “Will you come visit me again?” “You’re fine. I see no reason to. At most, the nurses will come offer the medication I prescribed, and when you’re entirely healed, they will release you.” she shrugged, not bothering to look back. “And when I get out of here, may I return to courting you?” Y/N thought hard about it, only to smirk in amusement. She turned her head slightly to watch him over her shoulder. “Only if you shave that raccoon off your face.” she let out a dry chuckle, before leaving him all alone in that chamber. “What’s wrong with my facial hair?!” he summoned the mirror from the wall and examined his face. Sure, he looked tired, and perhaps a little more mature than she remembers him at 18 years old - But that didn’t mean it was a bad change by any means!

It took awhile for Aesop to accept that he needs to leave behind his Auror life and retire, but every time his flesh was in searing agony, he reminded himself that it was for the best. At least he was alive... His partner didn’t have such a privilege. He had to make the best out of what was offered to him, and that was his life. For the time that he is allowed to remain on this earth, he was going to search for a cure for this pain to disappear, and perhaps find means to teach the next generations of young witches and wizards.

And thus, Auror Sharp became Professor Sharp, as he was accepted as the Potion Master of Hogwarts. All for the best, he always did love potions, though perhaps not as much as DADA - And now, he had not only the freedom, but the resources to start about his research for an antidote. The only downside of this would be that, once again, he would have no way of courting his sweet Y/N. Should he just let her go? No, he couldn’t. He’s been pining over her for ages now, since they first met each other at eleven years old. He couldn’t just give up. Weekends at Hogsmeade, perhaps? He heard of a nice tea shop that opened recently, at it was all the rage amongst people of all ages, for being so romantic and what not. Not exactly his thing, but Y/N loved cheesy things like this. Flowers, sweet words, slow dances, walks in the moonlight, romantic dates.

But Aesop never took into account the amount of pain he would be in, and how difficult it would be to return to a regular day to day life. It wasn’t just his walking, or rather, his inability to do so, nor was it easy to get used to the complex work of teaching students and actually creating a proper curriculum. For one, most text books were completely useless - And some even had wrong potion ingredients or instructions altogether! How was he supposed to teach young children, when the books help so little? He had to spend so much time properly structuring his lessons for all seven years, and organising all the ingredients, the tools and... Gah, what a mess. Months on end passed, and he had not even a minute of free time - Hell, he barely had time to sleep or eat, let alone do anything but work. How was he supposed to care for his social life, when he was buried under work tenfold - No, a hundredfold rather, than when he was an Auror?

Thus, the whole Summer ended, and the very first month of Hogwarts began, and with it, Aesop learnt how to properly teach his students of all ages the refined art of potion-making; yet even now, just like during his younger days, he had zero tolerance for troublemakers who didn’t keep up with the work. He was, after all, a troublemaker during his student-days, and so was his crush, but they were the top of their class and could afford some mischief here and there.

And thus, more months went on, before, with a lot of difficult, Professor Sharp was able to balance his work with his recovery, and could now live a relatively normal life - At least by his standards... Though he will forever dread the annoyingly ugly cane that he had to rely on. Some gentlemen used canes for the aesthetic of it, while some kept their wands inside of it. He didn’t care for any of that silliness. He just wanted his health back, and maybe his sense of normalcy too.

It was around late December, and Christmas was approaching - Aesop finally dared send an owl to Y/N and ask her whether she wanted to go on a date with him, on Christmas Eve. Surprisingly, she accepted. For the first time in ages, he felt giddy, like he was a young man once again. But what should he get her? What were some good gift shops around Hogsmeade?

Y/N apparated at Hogsmeade, wearing a beautiful dress and a warm cloak over, and she stepped inside the coquette, little tea house she was invited at, and quickly spotted the gruff looking gentleman tapping his foot with impatient nervousness. “You always did like taking your sweet time before inviting me anywhere, didn’t you?” the man immediately shot up and took off her cloak, hanging it on the coat hanger, before dragging her seat for her. “I have to admit, this place is gorgeous. I had no idea such a beautiful place was opened in Hogsmeade. Says a lot about my social life.” she let out a dry chuckle. “I couldn’t have you walking by the arm of a cripple who couldn’t even walk properly. It would be improper for a beautiful lady like yourself.” Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, looking away and shaking her head in disbelief. “Ever the charmer, you always know what to say to get out of trouble, don’t you, you troublemaker? You might have matured and... That raccoon from your face might make you look older, but you are still the same nasty troublemaker I met decades ago.” Aesop cringed a little, hearing the plural of ‘decade’. “Now you’re making the both of us sound so much older than we are.” he smirked wryly. “Besides, I have to say, I am rather proud of the way I trim my facial hair, and I will not tolerate such disrespect.” he said, before sipping from his tea. “I am very proud of the way my ferret looks.” Y/N couldn’t help but stifle her laugh. “Alright, forgive me, I mistook the furry animal residing on your face.” a comfortable silence took over them, as they held a tender look, gazing at each other. “I heard you became a professor at Hogwarts. How is life treating you?” “I learnt how to manage it properly, I suppose. It can be positively dreadful, though it’s nothing short of an adventure for cripples like myself. Though, I can’t deny, most students can be so dreadful. Our generation wasn’t like this.” Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “We totally were. In fact, the two of us, were the worst of the bunch, if you recall. We’d have gotten detention so much more, were it not for our brilliant grades. Always sneaking out at night, always going into the Forbidden Forest, looking for trouble, always stealing from the supply chambers... Need I go on?” Aesop’s eyes widened with horror, before tapping his cane into the rug. “I knew I forgot something.” he grumbled lowly. “I thought I was mis-counting my supplies. Instead, I was being robbed. Those nasty rascals!” the poor man dragged his hand across his face, crestfallen at his own silly mistake. “As long as you don’t rig it with deathly traps, I’m sure it’s going to be fine, whatever you choose to do.” the woman chuckled in amusement at his exhaustion. “I never imagined how much of a drag it would be, teaching students. I don’t get how Hecat or Weasley do it so well, but I’m having a hard time inspiring authority without everyone trembling in fear before me, as though I’m Salazar Slytherin himself.” Aesop complained about his students. “Could it be that you’re in need of some help, then? You, Aesop Sharp, the greatest Auror the Ministry ever had - Needs help, taming a bunch of unruly students?” Y/N leaned over the table, teasing the taciturn man before her. “I’d take battling dark wizards any day, over hordes of annoyingly loud students. Besides! We both know I worked better alone during missions.” the man crossed his arms to his chest, as though he was a grumpy, indignant child. “Our potion teacher might have begged to differ, watching us paired together.” the girl smirked teasingly at him. “You have always been different. That’s why I liked you. We were always on another level than anyone else. Not to mention, if you recall, it was you who dealt with people, not me. Getting us out of trouble, mediating and sweet-talking.” his smile turned bittersweet. “Those days were good.” “They were, indeed.” Y/N agreed. “Though you do need to learn how to listen to me, every once in a while. Maybe that way, you wouldn’t get in so much trouble.” “Ah, here she goes, reprimanding me.” Aesop shook his head dramatically. “But I would greatly appreciate some help.” “Well! I’m not entirely sure how I can aid you, all the way from St. Mungo’s... However! I can help with... This!” she put her purse on her lap and took out a surprisingly long gift box. “Figured at least one of us should care for the aesthetics.” Half excited, half nervous, Sharp took the box and removed the ribbon, revealing a gorgeous-looking cane - Expensive and polished, with gold embedded in intricate shapes, all that would suit a perfect gentleman. Unfortunately for him, he never truly did think of himself as one, considering the amount of rudeness he addressed his sweetheart, in the midst of courting her. “This looks more expensive than my house. I can’t... Accept this.” “Ah, there you go again, being so rude to me. I’m very upset, Aesop, and if you refuse it, I’m going to be even more upset with you.” she threatened with a smile on her face, only to steal his old cane and destroying it. “Oops. An accident.” “Alright, alright, I don’t have the right not to accept a Christmas gift from the heart. Of course, that means, you are not allowed to deny my gifts for you either.” in a swift move, he placed a gorgeous bouquet of flowers, along with a small, velvet gift box. “You complain about the cane being expensive, but this couldn’t have been any cheaper. You hypocrite.” Y/N muttered, gazing at the gorgeous white gold necklace filled with emeralds. “Come on, go ahead, put it on for me.” with a cheeky smirk, Y/N pulled aside her hair, revealing her thin neck and the supple nape. Aesop stood behind her and carefully placed the necklace around her neck, before planting a soft kiss on her shoulder. “Happy Christmas, Y/N.” he whispered tenderly into her ear. “Happy Christmas, Aesop.”

But a cane wasn’t the best Christmas gift that Aesop Sharp received - Instead, a few months later, he was surprised with the announcement of a teacher’s helper, mostly there to aid the newly arrived professors who are in need of accomodation and settling in their role as educators for so many students at once. He almost thought it was a cruel jab addressed to him, all by the insufferable Headmaster, but no, it wasn’t a cruel jab. Instead, it was a favour, from one noble Pureblood, to another - Namely, the esteemed Heir of Slytherin. It didn’t matter that Y/N Gaunt was more or less estranged from her family, and she might have had her portrait burnt - A Gaunt was a Gaunt for life, and for once, Y/N used her family’s name for good, as she was hired by the Headmaster.

When Aesop went to his classroom the next morning, he saw his beautiful lady drinking coffee and idly arranging all the bottles and jars of ingredients for the day. When she noticed him, she offered a sleepy smile, before returning to her work. “You always did prefer arranging everything by hand. I could never understand the appeal.” Aesop limped behind her, wrapping his arms around his waist. “It is called - Relaxing - Darling. I believe you should search that word in the dictionary, I truly doubt you’ve ever heard of it before.” her smile only widened, feeling herself melt in his loving embrace. “Ah, yes, because the overworked Healer does such a great job at taking breaks.” he jabbed at her swiftly. “This overworked Healer knows that you’ve overexerted your leg and that the pain is getting worse. Care to explain your misdemeanours?” she looked at him over the shoulder, only to be surprised with a kiss stolen from her sweet lips. “I will tell you, only if you agree to help me out with the pain.” he bribed her jokingly. “That is why I have come here. Not only you are in dire need of someone taking care of you... But I also want to help find a cure for your ailment... Mostly for you and your incredibly rude and inconsiderate self, but also, to help out St. Mungo’s, if any case like yours happens again.” Y/N admitted, turning around and placing her arms on his shoulders lazily. “As long as I have you by my side, it matters little to me - Though, I can’t deny, having your help makes me feel like we’re students again, ready to take on more troublemaking.” Aesop chuckled lightly. “All fine with me - But no more Slytherin adventures. I’m so done with that.” the ex-Auror cringed at the memory. “Deal.” he agreed, leaning in to plant a loving kiss on her forehead.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy imagine #aesop sharp #aesop sharp x reader #aesop sharp imagine

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finkinthisfrew · 1 year ago

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Anything (Pt.2)

A Matty Healy Fanfic

cw: non-lifethreatening burns

Chapter 2

I came to in what can only be described as a very peculiar situation. I was fully clothed, laying in a bathtub, soaking wet. Above me, I could see concrete ceilings with warm glowing lights, and a hand holding a showerhead. Cold water poured over my chest, and I sat upright quickly in a panic. Turning to see the owner of the hand, I was once again met with those chocolate eyes.

"What the fuck?" I said sitting up, head spinning too much to cringe at my ineloquence.

"I'm so sorry, I know this must be terrifying, but we're just in my flat which is above the coffee shop you were just at." My face must have shown my lack of understanding, so he continued. "I was being a complete bellend and was rushing to get to a meeting I was extremely late for and wasn't looking where I was going. I ran directly into you and when we crashed, my coffee poured all over you. I think with the fall and the shock from the hot coffee you passed out. I didn't know what else to do and your chest was bright red so I grabbed you and took you up here. Fuck me, I'm never asking for my coffee extra hot ever again..." he said, his hands in his head.

He looked up and said with such sincerity "I cannot begin to explain how sorry I am."

The shock from everything must have disoriented me because the first thought that I voiced was: "But what about your meeting?"

Caught off guard, he looked at me in confusion and then broke into a smile. It was such a charming smile. If I wasn't so disoriented I would have had half a mind to flirt with the handsome stranger who was taking care of me. I also would have half a mind to get up and run, but this man's energy was too genuine, too earnest, for me to feel in any danger.

"I called and cancelled it. Too busy burning beautiful strangers to do business today." He said rolling his eyes, half-flirting, half-self-patronizing. I laughed in response.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, the twinkle in his eyes replaced with concern.

"I think I'm okay." I stopped to assess myself. "I just feel a bit dazed, but otherwise I think I feel fine," I continued.

At that moment I felt myself begin to shiver. He must have noticed too because he then pulled the showerhead away and started to reach for a towel, but as soon as he did, my chest began to burn with such pain that all I could say was "Oh my God no, bring it back."

"Fuck, sorry!" he said, eyes pained as he turned the showerhead back to my burn. "I'm sorry I didn't think this through. I soaked all your clothes... Fuck I'm so sorry, I didn't know what else to do."

"That's okay," I said through chattering teeth.

"Here, hold this," he said, handing me the showerhead. "I'll be right back." He ran out of the bathroom, leaving me by myself. I shifted myself to let the water pour down my chest, avoiding my legs so I wouldn't feel as cold.

Waiting for the stranger to return, still in a bit of a daze, I looked around at my surroundings. The bathroom was thoughtfully decorated- nothing like the bathrooms of the men in my life. The entire room was concrete with high ceilings and a large frosted window. A few ivory towels were hanging on the wall and a bottle of Aesop soap sat next to a beautiful arrangement of dried flowers on the green-tiled sink. Unlit candles sat along a wood shelf that ran along the tub, and a beautiful Moroccan rug lay on the ground, bringing warmth to the almost art gallery-type style of the room.

As I looked around, I reflected on how oddly comfortable I felt, aside from the shivering. The stranger didn't feel like a stranger, somehow. His personality felt... almost familiar.

"Okay," I heard, as the man entered the bathroom again a few minutes later, arms full, breaking my train of thought.

Setting everything down on the wooden stool he'd previously been sitting on, he kneeled next to the tub and rambled on quickly: "Okay, so here is a mug of tea to warm you up a bit, I've only got peppermint though, I hope that's okay, and here are some painkillers- I could only find Advil but I'm pretty sure I've got some T3's hiding somewhere, I just need an extra minute to find them if you'd prefer those. I wasn't sure what would fit you, so I brought a few options- you can borrow those for as long as you like, hell you could even keep them, uhm, right and your burn, we can soak a towel in some cold water to put on it until the ice in my freezer freezes and I can put it in a bag for you- I apologize, I'm one of those knobheads who never refill the tray, so we'll have to wait a bit for that..."

He must have read my shock as fear, because he then added "And the door to leave is just through this room, straight ahead at the end of this hall down the stairs, just so you know- I don't want you to feel like a hostage. You don't have to stay," he said, wide-eyed. "I just feel bad soaking all your clothes. And for bulldozing you. And for burning you. Fuck, I've really made such a mess of things for you, I am so incredibly sorry."

Realizing I hadn't yet, I accepted his apology. "Thank you, but it's really not a big deal. I'm just in a bit of a shock, but I think I'm okay." I said, looking down at myself, not seeing any blisters or blood anywhere. His eyes still looked pained, so I tagged on "I forgive you, you know," playfully, and his tense face seemed to soften a bit, smiling back at me. "You really shouldn't, I really am trouble," he said winking cheekily.

I then realized that my initial shock was wearing off, and it was being replaced by a new one. This man was so incredibly handsome. His chocolate eyes were framed with beautiful dark brown curls that fell across his forehead perfectly. His eyes crinkled with such kindness and warmth, I felt my stomach flutter. His smile was upending, impossible to not smile back at. I had just noticed his chest tattoo peaking through the top of his white t-shirt when I saw he had a brown stain all over his front.

"Wait, are you okay?" I said, pointing to the coffee stain. He looked down to see the stain he'd clearly forgotten about. "Oh yeah, no I'm totally fine. Honestly, I think you took the brunt of it, poor thing. Again, really sorry about that."

"You say sorry a lot," I responded, smiling.

"I have lots to be sorry about, unfortunately," he said, chuckling lightly.

"You sure you don't want a turn?" I asked, gesturing to the showerhead.

"Yeah, no I think I'm fine." He said, scowling playfully.

I must have been concussed slightly because I then said "Actually... I think you're not being totally honest with me. I think you might like a turn." I then turned the shower head to him, quickly and lightly spraying him before returning the stream of water to my burn.

Mouth agape, he looked at me and said "You little minx." I giggled in response. "You DID assault me and then soak all my clothes... I think it's only fair..." I said with a devilish tone.

"You wouldn't dare," he scoffed.

That was all the encouragement I needed, and he must have seen that in my eyes because right as I turned the showerhead back at him, he hopped up to his feet. Both of us laughing, he stretched his arms out to block the cold water that now soaked him.

"Mercy, mercy!" he begged while laughing.

I lowered the stream of water, and I momentarily admired the new tattoos I could see through his now-soaked t-shirt. Taking advantage of my mercy, he lunged at my hands to grab the showerhead from me. I turned to pull it out of his reach, but he was faster, arms around me gripping at the handle.

"Now you're in trouble, pet" he laughed, and I squealed in his arms as he sprayed me. I wriggled around trying to escape the stream and I yelled "I yield!" when he lowered the stream back to my burn, both still laughing, his arm still around my waist.

Our giggles dying down, we stood there, much too close for two strangers.

The energy shifted as we both noticed the intimacy of the moment. Panting from the laughter, he looked down at me as I looked up at him. His eyes, whatever was going on behind them, did something to me- my stomach sent into a frenzy of summersaults. His curls dripped with water down onto my face, a single drop hanging from his parted lips. I looked back up from his lips to his eyes and saw his eyes returning to mine from my own lips. We stood there for what could have been hours or seconds, I couldn't tell from all the butterflies that roared in my stomach.

Overwhelmed, I dropped my gaze, the intensity of the moment causing me to break it. He cleared his throat and pulled his arm away, once again apologizing.

"Sorry really is your favourite word, isn't it?" I said, attempting to break the tension. Once again, he smiled and I felt woozy from it.

"Not my favourite, but it's definitely up there." He said, handing me a towel with a cheeky smile. He grabbed another towel and started to pat his hair dry.

"I'll leave you to change, I'm going to go change too after my well-deserved payback soaking." He winked before he continued "Take your time. Once you've finished you can meet me in the living room- it's through here, past the stairs, at the end of the hallway."

"Thank you," I said, genuinely. We smiled at each other, as he pulled the door shut behind him.

Shell-shocked, I turned to look at myself in the mirror. I stared at my soaked and stained clothes, hair dripping wet, and face bewildered.

What have I gotten into?

#matty the 1975 #the 1975 #matty healy #at their very best #trumanblack #bfiafl #tenderness #caring #lovers #love #fanfic #fanfiction

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mrs-sharp · 10 months ago

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The Eyes of Graphorns

Can't believe we've already reached chapter 7 of this story.

Read part 1-6 here.

Pairing: Aesop Sharp x MC

tw: angst, mention of pain, alcohol, physical touch

Summary: Elaine finds her colleague, Professor Sharp, in a state of distress. Dealing with physical and emotional pain, Sharp reluctantly lets Elaine help him - developing a deeper connection to her.

Chapter 7 - Firewhisky and Despair

The school routine had Elaine in its grip completely. Dinah Hecat was always there with advice, yet she spent almost every free minute occupied with preparing lessons, checking homework, correcting written works, and helping her students prepare for their OWLs or their NEWTs. Soon enough, October had passed. For several days, it had been raining incessantly. Elaine had just finished her last class for the day and was on her way to her accommodation in the teachers' tower. She stopped outside the door. She still hadn't gotten used to living in Fig's old quarters, and every time, she hesitated before entering the room. Most of the time, she pondered if she had forgotten something to have an excuse to go back. She turned around, leaned against the wall, and let out a sigh as she sank to the floor.

Elaine glanced at the stairs in the corridor and reached into the pocket of her coat. She pulled out a small vial containing a potion. She turned it in her hands, held it up to the light, and examined the label. Maybe today she would gather enough courage. Maybe today was a good day to…

Suddenly, she heard voices from above. She couldn't understand what was being said, but her senses told her something was wrong. Without further thought, she ascended the stairs - swiftly - but not too hastily, so as not to attract attention in case she was mistaken. Outside Professor Sharp's quarters, Elaine encountered Professor Garlick, nervously knocking on his door. Next to her were Weasley and Ronen.

"Could you please open the door? I have the ingredients you asked for," Garlick said.

No response. This time, Professor Weasley tried her luck.

"Aesop, please, let us in."

"I'm busy!" echoed from behind the closed door.

Elaine remained in the corridor behind her colleagues.

"Is... everything alright?" Elaine asked cautiously. All turned simultaneously. Just as Elaine caught their concerned looks, she heard a sound from Sharp's room that made her shudder. In her years as an Auror, she had heard many things, from the breaking of bones to the rattling breath of Dementors, but none had ever startled her like this. It was a mixture of a cry and a groan.

Garlick shook her head, "We had an appointment, but he won't open the door. He's locked himself in." Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke. Her gaze darted indecisively between Ronen and Weasley, as if hoping one of them had a solution.

"Perhaps we should leave," Professor Weasley began, "in this state, he's... unpredictable." In her gaze, Elaine sensed a mixture of concern and tension. Again, a cry of pain could be heard from the room. Elaine still held the vial tightly clenched and now let it slip into her jacket’s pocket. She looked determinedly at the other professors.

"What's this?" Elaine asked, gesturing to the ingredients Garlick held in her hands.

"Oh, this? Just a few Abyssinian shrivelfigs and some watercress," Garlick replied. As she spoke about the plants, Garlick immediately seemed calmer.

"May I?" Elaine began and approached the door cautiously but purposefully. Garlick stepped aside. Elaine knocked.

"I said I'm busy!" echoed from the room. Sharp’s voice sounded different than usual, angry, disturbed, and irritated, and Elaine suspected it wasn't just because of the pain.

"It's me, Professor Hopkins," Elaine spoke calmly, "May I come in?"

For a moment, silence filled the room. The other professors had also noticed it and held their breaths eagerly until suddenly the click of an opening padlock was heard. Garlick, Weasley, and Ronen looked at each other in surprise until Elaine said to Garlick, "Quickly, give me the ingredients."

Elaine reached out her hand toward Garlick, and with the other, she cautiously pushed the door ajar so Sharp couldn't change his mind hastily. With one last nervous glance toward her colleagues, she disappeared into Sharp's quarters.

"Are you sure you…" Professor Weasley started to say, but before she could finish the sentence, Elaine had already quietly closed the door behind herself.

She looked around. The sight that greeted her inside the room tore her apart internally, although she had already had an idea of what to expect. First, she noticed the overturned chair, along with several partially empty bottles of Firewhisky scattered around the room. Then her gaze fell on Sharp. He sat slumped against the wall next to the open passage to the back room. Beside him lay his coat and his jacket. Sharp clutched his leg with both hands, his eyes squinted, his head bowed to his chest. He had pulled his uninjured leg close to his body. As she approached, Elaine noticed that his face was pale and had a pained expression. She could see from his shoulders that he was breathing quickly and shallowly.

She set aside Garlick's ingredients. Slowly, she approached her former teacher and knelt in front of him. When he felt her proximity, he looked up at Elaine. There was a kind of despair in his face that Elaine hadn't known from him before. His eyes stared at her, wide and full of fear, as if begging for help, but this plea couldn't escape his lips. Between his eyes lay a deep furrow. A deep sigh escaped his throat.

Elaine placed her hand on his shoulder and gently stroked the fabric of his vest with her thumb. She felt the warmth of his body and the trembling.

"It's alright, I'm here."

He responded to her words with a soft whimper. Despite his pain, he remembered that these were the words he had said to her almost ten years ago when he had found her in front of Fig's lifeless body. It embarrassed him to be seen in this state, but he felt that her touch calmed him, and she was the only one he could bear to be near right now.

Elaine reached into her pocket, pulled out the vial of potion, and placed it next to herself on the floor. The hand that had rested on Sharp's shoulder now gently rested on his hands, which still clutched his leg. She carefully released his tense grip and held his left hand for a fraction of a second longer than necessary. Their eyes met briefly before they both shyly looked down. Elaine gently touched the spot on Sharp's leg that he had been holding tightly. She bit her lip as if searching for the right words.

"May I?" she finally asked. She gestured to his leg and met his dark, heavy gaze, which drew her down into its depths. For a few seconds, silence reigned between them, interrupted only by Sharp's irregular breathing. The smell of alcohol filled the air. Elaine knew that Sharp had noticed the vial on the floor and was aware of what she intended to do. Sharp swallowed. Then he nodded, though he still hadn't managed to say a word. Elaine made him feel understood even without him speaking.

"Please, trust me."

Elaine's words wrapped warmly and softly around Sharp's tense shoulders, leaving a gentle burning sensation there that calmed his trembling a little, though he feared what was about to happen. He felt Elaine skillfully unfasten the buckles of his boots. She made great effort to keep his leg still, knowing that any movement would exacerbate the pain. Elaine placed one hand under Sharp's knee, and slowly slid it under his calf. With the other hand, she pulled on the boot, and somehow she managed to pull it off his foot in one fluid motion. Sharp cried out briefly but quickly composed himself. Elaine looked at him to gauge how intense the pain was. To her surprise, Sharp seemed to have calmed down a bit, but he still couldn't move, and his fingertips tried to find some grip on the wooden floor. He looked at her with a mixture of exhaustion and anticipation. Elaine hesitated.

"Carry on," he suddenly interrupted the silence with a raspy, rough voice, "I trust you."

Elaine turned away so he couldn't see how much his words and the sound of his voice touched her. With a discreet motion, she hastily wiped away a tear from her face. Once she had regained her composure, she began unbuttoning the buttons on the side of his trousers. She worked slowly, gradually exposing Sharp's scarred leg, trying not to pay too much attention to the intense tension in his muscles, which showed as gentle curves under his pale skin. Elaine cautiously placed a hand on Sharp's leg, feeling for where the tensions were worst. Eventually, she paused at the deepest scar.

Elaine reached for the vial and unscrewed the dropper. It contained a liquid that strongly resembled unicorn blood in colour and consistency. She dripped some of the potion onto the wound and gently massaged it into the scarred skin of his leg.

Sharp found himself secretly enjoying each of her touches. At first, he wondered if it was due to the pain-relieving effect of the elixir, but shortly after, he was sure that it was primarily the feeling of her warm skin on his own that calmed his mind. His trembling disappeared a little more with each stroke of her soft fingers. His breathing slowed and transformed into deep, steady breaths.

He couldn't understand it. How often had he viewed his injury with contempt and disgust? But he could read none of that in Elaine's face. There sat this talented, intelligent, and beautiful young woman in front of him, touching what was most vulnerable about him without flinching. She only seemed to care about his state insofar as she unconditionally accepted it. On one hand, it scared him to be so exposed to someone, but on the other hand, this moment was full of trust and security. He felt his face and his whole body filling with warmth. Her worried expression, the determination in her eyes, her fingers on his skin. All of this deeply touched him.

When Elaine was done, her hand still lingered on Sharp's leg for a while. She tried to prolong the moment a little without giving herself away. It was risky, but ultimately she didn't know how much time she had left and when she would be this close to her colleague again, who meant so much to her. Elaine didn't realize that he, too, hoped this moment wouldn't end too soon. Sharp tried not to move and even stopped breathing for a few seconds as if he could slow down time that way.

Elaine closed the vial and let herself sink to the floor next to Sharp, leaning her shoulder against his upper arm as casually as possible. He didn't seem to mind. Sharp closed his eyes and let himself be enveloped by her scent. She smelled of soap, cotton blossoms, ink on parchment, and the smoke of burnt wood. Presumably, she had been practising "Incendio" with her class before. Elaine pulled her legs to her body and wrapped her arms around them. For a while, they silently sat next to each other. Neither of them spoke about what had just happened until Sharp eventually broke the silence: "Thank you."

Elaine looked at her knees for a while. Perhaps now was a good time? She gathered all her courage.

"I... I was wondering," she began hesitantly, "if you might be interested in, perhaps, visiting me. I have a small cottage down in Cragcroft. We could cook something together. What do you think?"

Elaine bit her lip. Barely had she spoken the words, she already regretted it feeling like making a fool of herself. Sharp looked at her in astonishment. She had just seen the worst side of him, had experienced how weak and vulnerable he was, she had seen him scream, rage, and suffer, on top of that, he was drunk, and now she was inviting him over?

"I... I can understand, of course, if you don't want to…"

"Absolutely," he interrupted her before she had a chance to reconsider, "I mean... I would really like to visit you in Cragcroft."

And then Elaine did something Sharp hadn't experienced since they had been to the Room of Requirement: she smiled.

"I should go now," she replied after a while, but her facial expression told him she was looking forward to their reunion, "Will you be alright?"

Sharp nodded, "Thanks again. For everything."

When Elaine had left the room, he noticed she had left the vial behind. He wanted to get up and return it to her. After all, she probably needed it more urgently than he did, but then he noticed a note tied to the neck of the bottle with a fine string. He untied the parchment, unrolled it, and immediately recognized Elaine's neat handwriting:

"I brewed this potion from the ingredients I encountered on my travels. It cannot heal the curse, but it should alleviate the pain more effectively than a Wiggenweld potion. Please keep the bottle and consider it as a gesture of gratitude for what you did for me during my school days."

Underneath was a recipe. Sharp glanced at the list of ingredients: Dittany leaves, saltwater, juice of sleep beans, an immature air-dried poppy seed pod, devil's claw root, a decoction of acconitum leaves, a thunderbird feather and comfrey blossoms. Some of it was easy to obtain, but he knew devil's claw and thunderbird feathers was nearly impossible to get in Britain. So, he had to use the potion wisely. Sharp clasped the bottle with his hand and pressed it to his chest. Then he leaned his head back, stared at the ceiling, and let himself be filled with gratitude.

-> This way to Chapter 8 - Intuition

#Spotify #hogwarts legacy #professor sharp #aesop sharp #professor aesop sharp #hogwarts legacy screenshots #my hogwarts legacy screenshots #fanfiction #fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy fanfic #aesop sharp x mc #aesop sharp fanfiction #professor sharp fanfiction #professor sharp x mc

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in-the-shadow-of-the-blog · 1 year ago

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As soon as I saw this screenshot from @phinik-nonw, it reminded me of my headcanon that Aesop often reads to my OC Edith when she has a headache. So I made a gif and wrote a quick little thing, complete with crappy original poem and a single pass of proofreading.

[Edited to add another, longer gif at the bottom because I just couldn't let this go.]

—

"Skipping dinner again?"

Edith turned when she heard Aesop behind her. She stood by the railing overlooking the courtyard, holding a book. "It's so noisy, I cannot bear it tonight."

He came to stand beside her, putting an arm around her shoulder. "Another headache."

"All day. I wanted to read, but I can't focus."

"So you were thinking of taking a walk."

Edith leaned her head against his shoulder. "You know me so well."

He turned, steering her down the stone steps toward the courtyard. A little smile played on his lips. "And I know you like for me to accompany you."

"Careful, dearest, you'll spoil me." Being playful wasn't easy with the throbbing in her temples, but she would make an effort not to be miserable.

They did not walk far; down to the grounds where the castle gave way to grass and trees. The moon was bright, a breeze rustling the shrubbery and trees. Chirping crickets were their only company, all the students busy with their meal.

"It's so peaceful out here tonight." Edith looked wistfully out at the horizon. "I could stay out here all night."

"All night? That might be a bit much."

Edith ignored his teasing.

Aesop took off his coat and spread it out on the grass. He gestured for her to sit, and Edith was happy to oblige. Frowning at the little grunt of discomfort he uttered as Aesop sat beside her, Edith leaned against him. It was a position they took often, simply enjoying each other's closeness.

"Let me see this book of yours."

It was a small book of verse, covered in plum colored cloth. He opened it to the page she had marked, and cleared his throat.

With that soft smile she always seemed to have for him, Edith kissed Aesop on the cheek. She lay back, nestling against his coat as Aesop read from the pages. The warmth of his voice sank into her, and Edith felt the tension her muscles loosen.

Nature shares in grief with me

A quiet in the air

Gone are days that dawn of roses

To twilight's dismal stare

Absence felt intently through

Repeated days of grey

Wilted flowers upon the fields

In sun no longer sway

Each night reminds with breezes sweet

An ardor lost to death

No more upon my cheek to feel

The warmth of lover's breath

Aesop looked down at Edith, and he thought for a moment she had fallen asleep. Her eyes were closed, dappled moonlight making patterns ove her peaceful features. He reached down to stroke her hair, brushing a stray lock out of her face.

"I'm awake." Her voice was soft, a tone Aesop recognized as a sign of contentment. "Read me another?"

Aesop chuckled, turning to the next poem. "As many as you like."

#aesop sharp x oc #aesop sharp #professor sharp #hogwarts legacy

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bronze-bell · 6 months ago

Note

Was Aesop expecting a reply so soon? In truth, he wasn't expecting to get a reply in the first place. But there that letter was, in front of him, matching the choices he made and yet so much more... Open, in a sense. The yellow rose was his favorite flower, so to see it and so many others enveloping whatever message may be inside, the key piece of a backdrop meant to make the true subject shine.

Ah. He'd been used to handling the dead, knowing exactly how much care to have even with someone who no longer breathed, but being handed Victor's heart just like that... he had to take even more care with the living, didn't he? At least he'd know what the dead would do. Not a thing. Living people could do so many things, break your expectations so easily. They can so easily judge you.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

(This letter is similar in appearance to the last, though the handwriting appears uncertain in a sense, almost shakier. Even as Aesop's hand was kept in line, he couldn't figure out if he was saying anything right. If he was doing anything right.)

To Victor Grantz:

I did not expect to see a response so quickly, to be honest. You do not need to worry about being late with delivery or taking too long to respond. There is nothing that needs to be forgiven here. I didn't think you would respond... Thank you.

It is a relief, that you are glad it was me out of everyone. I was sure my presence would unnerve you, but... this is better.

As for locking the door, you should really thank Frederick. He had shown the concern first, I simply made sure we had everything necessary. Maybe such things can be inferred, even without your thoughts being so clear on certain matters. The more locks someone puts up, the more likely they are to have an interest in keeping things behind closed doors. It would be rude to leave you helpless like that.

Of course I will keep that same care. Perhaps even more so, since the living may need it. The living, after all, can still tell their tales, for good and ill. The living can still judge you. It is my job to help people pass on, and in such moments, it is especially important to give that sort of dignity and respect to those I work with.

I... do not deserve such an offer as that. I, who spends so long in the cold of death, do not deserve the warmth you are so willing to give. But... I want to. For your sake and mine. If I can take care of someone like you...

A. Carl

Victor had, admittedly, been... Waiting for the response. Now, that phrasing sounds as just perfectly ordinary as he likes, conjuring the image of waiting patiently on the bed, or maybe by the window, for the delivery to arrive. Polite and well adjusted. However, Victor was instead sitting directly by the floor in front of his mail slot, waiting patiently for the set of sounds that would signal the arrival of the letter.

Usually he'd have Wick to accompany him here, but he's so focused on his anticipation that she fades from his mind entirely. So it's just him, and the door, and time. But soon he is rewarded, for all at once the sounds of an anticipated delivery reach his ears. The muffled creak of Aesop's door, the softly clicking footsteps, the gentle rapping on the one thing separating the two, and then the mild wince of a largely unused hinge as the letter practically falls into Victor's lap. His heart races and he does his best to keep himself quiet as those footsteps leave again, before scrambling to his workstation to read.

- - - - -

The letter has been completed recently enough that the wax is still slightly warm. The same gold, same envelope, but the letter itself does sport small inked yellow roses to match the theme. The handwriting is smooth, looping a little more than it should seemingly out of excitement from its writer. Additionally, there are some crossed out parts, but they are still very readable. He has not attempted to hide them in any way, almost like you're supposed to read.

[Dear Aesop Carl,

I always enjoy responding to letters when I receive them, and rest assured that I definitely could not turn down some as pretty as yours. I, of course, enjoy being as timely as I can, but please do not hold yourself to the same standard. I would never want you to be pressured.

I have seen several unsettling people in my time, but you have never been considered one of them. Although I seem to be somebody that unsettles others, truthfully enough, so it may be that we understand the way we act a little more than they do.

Despite my best efforts something someone like me must be an uncanny sight to behold, so it's nice to be able to silently connect with you over that. It makes me feel less alone. Thank you.

I will certainly thank Frederick when I see him next! You seem to take great care with things like politeness and being careful not to accidentally overstep hidden boundaries, and it's very sweet to see that in somebody else

The only truly silent man is a dead one, as I've been told, so I certainly see where you're coming from. I've never liked looking at the dead, but at the same time I have never been to a funeral or something similarly kind, so I may be biased. Your line of work has always sounded very gentle interesting, and even without functional death here, you still put so much effort into perfecting that skill.

My heart, my love, my soul, I will give it all to you if I am allowed. You are so kind, for offering love even when I haven't done anything to particularly deserve it. I am always quite content with nice treatment from anyone, especially you, and so I find any offer of it to be wonderful.

Please keep our secrets safe. It would ruin me if they saw me this trusting.

Yours, sincerely,

Postman.

P.S. It would be nice to meet up in my room again someday soon. I would love to see you again.]

The letter is handed off again, and Victor turns to leave for his room, his neck-bound bell singing its tune through the hallway.

#identity v #identity v rp #「 victor writes 💌」#identity v ask blog #idv

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thewadapan · 6 months ago

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Circling the drain in Twisters

In an interview with CNN, director Lee Isaac Chung is quoted as saying, "I wanted to make sure that we are never creating a feeling that we're preaching a message, because that's certainly not what I think cinema should be about. I think it should be a reflection of the world." If this is the case, then Lee Isaac Chung is clearly an idiot, because his studious commitment to avoiding anything that could be construed as an ideological statement has seen him create a world where tornadoes are wild beasts—something like a tiger, or a hippopotamus, maybe—which roam the American plains and will hunt you for sport, as opposed to a mindless confluence of meteorological factors. Says one of the characters: "We're having a once-in-a-generation tornado outbreak in Oklahoma. […] It's getting worse every year." An "outbreak", as if this is some freak disaster, a sudden pandemic of unclear origins, and not a predictable trend where each year is the worst year on record. Don't think of it as a microcosm for the meteorological hardships happening all over the world, year after year—think of it more like 30-50 feral hogs, a consistent but localised problem, the kind of thing you can solve by climbing into the back of your pickup truck with an AR-15.

Certainly, it can't have anything to do with climate change, two words which—despite scriptwriter Mark L. Smith's assurance that the film would "shine a light on […] the causes and effects of climate change"—go completely unmentioned in the entire 122 minute runtime of this dumpster fire.

Pass through the eye of the "Keep reading" button below to see the rest of my blustering.

I know that everyone is sick of ecological stories. I know that, if we're being bluntly honest, all the movies and books and comics and thinkpieces in the world don't mean a fucking thing to the blood-soaked oil industry or our ghoulish politicians. I can understand the instinct to flinch away from the aesop. But to put it as simply as I can: there is no way to neutrally talk about the weather. To even try is to fail, because you end up coming off like a climate denialist.

Oh yeah, this film is also dogshit on pretty much every other level you can conceive of. From the opening prologue, which introduces protagonist Kate's hi-and-die friends, the film is constantly two steps behind the audience, as it clumsily plays out the most paint-by-numbers plotting you can predict in your sleep. You know these people are going to die, you can divine the fucking order they'll be killed off in. And still, on a pure spectacle level, this prologue is about as exciting as the film will ever manage to be; every subsequent bit of tornado action is just a bloodless encore, devoid of stakes or novelty, just CGI nonsense completely divorced from any kind of spatial grounding (in one scene, an oil refinery sort of just appears from nowhere so that the tornado can blow it up).

The film's main conflict is between a team of meteorologists led by Kate's old friend Javi, and a crew of redneck storm-chasers led by a YouTuber "tornado wrangler", Tyler. While I wouldn't say that these groups are overtly representatives of "science" and "gut feeling" respectively—because again, Lee Isaac Chung is a spineless filmmaker who clearly wouldn't know substance if he ate a brownie laced with it—their differing approaches to storm-chasing are contrasted throughout the film. To begin with, we're led to trust Javi's team because of his existing rapport with Kate, their professionalism and preparation, their apparently noble goals, and their class status as white-collar engineer-types. Meanwhile, Tyler's gang are initially presented as stupid, reckless, dangerous, opportunistic, money-motivated, and backwards.

But then, aha, here comes the movie's one (1) twist! (And here I thought the whole titular basis of the movie was that there'd be multiple.) It turns out that actually the rednecks have only been selling all those T-shirts to charitably fund disaster relief, food for the victims of tornadoes. Actually, YouTuber Tyler is a really good storm chaser, and he's also quite caring, and also hot. Meanwhile, the scientists are actually in the pockets of land baron Marshall Rigg, who's profiteering from the tornados by buying victims' property from them for rock-bottom prices in the wake of devastation. For a moment, it actually seems as if Marshall Rigg is some kind of MCU supervillain with an evil master plan to create his own tornadoes and take over the entire USA—because that's the kind of level of reality this film is operating on. If this truly is a "reflection of the world", as Chung claims, then it's a funhouse mirror- no, a flimsy plastic compress, free with a girls' magazine, a paper sticker inside, printed with the face of a beautiful cowgirl.

This "what if the bad guys… were good!" twist isn't really a reveal, so much as it is the script turning these people into completely different characters. They start out as cardboard-cutout trailer-trash, hooting and grinning, and then they are substituted out for an entirely different set of cardboard cutouts, doe-eyed.

The character writing in this film is absolutely embarrassing. In one scene, Kate and Tyler end up at a motel when the tornado sirens start going off. The other people at the motel, ignoring this, continue complaining to the receptionist. "Nine times out of ten, it's a false alarm," one of them says. The power goes out, causing the siren to stop. "You hear that? No tornado." Another anonymous alien says to the receptionist, "Hey, I don't want to give you a bad review." Then a tornado rips the roof off the place. They run outside. The first person is yelling, "There's a tornado! There's a tornado!" Then gets sucked up and killed. Look, nevermind the mean-spiritedness of it, nevermind the misanthropy—what sane writer would ever think that real people would actually behave this way? The script is constantly tripping over itself to make sure you get the jokes; here, the joke is that the woman thought there wasn't a tornado, but then she realised that actually there was.

I recall another example from earlier in the film: when Kate and Tyler are still competing, two tornadoes appear, and the rival storm chasers wind up splitting up, each going after a different one. Just as it seems like Tyler is coming up into the eye of his storm—suddenly, the whole thing dissipates, as though it was never there. They get out of the vehicle, and he looks over the horizon, where Kate's tornado is still swirling. And Tyler's pal says, "We should've went with her." Buddy, I am watching the fucking screen! You can see it right on his face that he should've went with her, you don't need to have one of your characters blurt it aloud. Are you scared I've fallen asleep in the ten seconds since someone last spoke?

God, I haven't even talked about the romance yet! Throughout the movie, YouTuber Tyler keeps popping up around Kate, and you can tell the filmmakers really don't want you to think about the fact that this plotting contrivance basically just implies he's stalking her everywhere. Kate reveals herself to be a country girl at heart. Tyler reveals himself to know about science and stuff, through dialogue where he reels off complicated jargon which you figure probably isn't accurate, or if it is, is the kind of basic meteorology the scriptwriter could piece together by poking around on Wikipedia for a couple of hours. The film doesn't actually give a fuck about science, or the scientific method, or meteorology, because in this movie science is a glossy CGI simulation of a twister which our heroes plug numbers into until the whole thing flashes green or whatever. It's telling, I think, that the onscreen simulation and the CGI twisters themselves are no different from one another—it's all artifice, isn't it, intangible particle effects swirling around, signifying nothing.

People seem to be going mad over Glen Powell in this thing, but come on, are you really satisfied by this sexless nothingburger of a romance? They don't even fucking kiss, right? All blockbusters are like this. I'm starving. This film can't even be bothered to crystallise a proper love triangle between Javi, Kate, and Tyler, even though you can tell it's thinking about it. It's as if the film itself knows it wouldn't even be compelling if it tried. Considering the absolutely abominable emotional manipulation Javi uses to get Kate onboard with the project—which the film never seems to quite become cognizant of—it's for the best anyway. "Hey, remember how your boyfriend and your best friends all died right in front of you? Well if you don't come help me by putting yourself in that exact same situation again, loads more people are going to die like that too!" Unhinged. Put that man in the twister, and the filmmakers too.

So yeah, I think I hate this flick. It's a movie that exists to soothe the conscience of its audience: see, we don't really hate the South, it's not our fault the planet is trying to blast us off the face of it, we're all trying our best. Let's watch a rodeo or something. It's the kind of film that can lull you to sleep, like a final, fatal injection.

Rating: 2/10

If you’ve enjoyed this review, you can find dozens of similar essays over on my Letterboxd account.

#twisters #movie review #essay

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