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omelaslost · 3 months ago

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Prey Sigil

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Prompt: Their s/o’s family sigil is something that is prey to theirs. Characters: Robb Stark, Theon Greyjoy, Cersei Lannister, Jaime Lannister, Tyrion Lannister “You Westerosi are all the same. You sew some beast upon a scrap of silk, and suddenly you are all lions or dragons or eagles.” – Illyrio Mopatis, A Dance with Dragons, Tyrion I

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Robb Stark

Sigil: Rabbit / Hare ✿ Robb would likely find it somewhat amusing. He definitely sees the humor in the direwolf joining with the hare and would occasionally joke about it with you. ✿ He would probably give you a pet name like “my little rabbit” or something along those lines. Though, he would only call you that in private once you are more familiar with one other. He might affectionately refer to you as his rabbit to those he is close to after a while. ✿ The tone of his pet name for you would depend on your personality, but the fondness (and teasing) in it would be the same. ✿ Robb is a protective person, and he would be protective of you regardless, but especially if you’re more meek and less likely to stand up for yourself. Rabbits are often seen as symbols of innocence and vulnerability, so he would find that your house’s sigil is fitting. ✿ Now, if you’re more confident and assertive, he would be much more teasing in calling you a rabbit. He would likely add that you were his “fierce little rabbit” and say that there was a wolf in you yet. ✿ He would commission small wood carvings of a direwolf and a rabbit that you keep on your bedside table as a wedding or anniversary gift. They are not to be separated. ✿ If the two of you were to discuss having children (he does need his heir), he would refer to them as “wobbits”. ✿ On that topic, another thing that rabbits are well-known for is how quickly they reproduce (eg “fucking like rabbits”), and so he would probably joke and tease you about that in the privacy of your bedchamber. ✿ You kinda need to be a rabbit to keep up with his ass honestly. ✿ He is very eager to have “a full brood of wobbits hopping around”

Theon Greyjoy

Sigil: A ship with ten fish (Krakens are difficult okay)

✿ Bro’s got jokes (and they aren’t funny) ✿ He’s just a really handsy person in general. He likes to have his hands on you whenever he can. If he can pull you onto his lap and wrap his arms around you waist, he will. It is not a matter of if: it is absolutely a matter of when. ✿ Literally, his favorite thing is to catch your waist when you’re walking by and just pull you down onto him when you’re least expecting it. Just like a Kracken would pull a ship down into the sea. ✿ He just likes to be wrapped around you (he says he thinks he prefers it when you’re wrapped around him, but this isn’t about that). ✿ Except it is about that because most of the jokes he makes will be sexual. ✿ Before he goes down on you, he would jest about a Kraken eating (out) a ship. When he finds how wet you are, he would say that you were flooding/swamping and that it was time for him to sink (into) you. ✿ If you don’t find him funny, he might stop (maybe), but he finds himself funny and that’s all that matters. (He isn't funny). ✿ Very specific, but if you can’t swim, he would never let you hear the end of it. He would offer to teach you (since a boat should know how to float), and while a genuine effort would be made, he would also play around with you in the water, pulling you down into the water. Probably ends up almost drowning you once or twice (accidental baptism, what is dead may never die 🙏). ✿ He actually would likely enjoy being wet with you though, whether you can swim or not. Whether it’s in the hot springs in the godswood of Winterfell or just in a tub during a bath, he’d like how you look with water dripping down your body. He’d joke that you’re both in your natural habitat… mostly. ✿ Gods have mercy if he ever gets you with child because now the ship is manned and he would not shut up about it. The Kraken added life to the ship instead of taking from it.

Cersei Lannister

Sigil: Antelope

✿ She would feel slightly annoyed that an antelope is similar to a stag, but she would eventually learn to ignore it (until you do something that annoys her, then she remembers again and makes it your problem, but you shouldn’t have annoyed her, so it’s actually still your fault).

✿ But you’re not a stag, she would remind herself. An antelope is not a stag; they are prettier than a stag and more graceful. You’re not Robert. You’re not a King; you’re beneath her in every way, and she finds comfort in that.

✿ As you can guess, your relationship likely would not be the healthiest.

✿ Cersei would like to brand you as hers in some way, but she knows that she would have to do it discreetly, so she would use your own coat of arms to do it. You can expect certain gifts from her, as rewards for your services.

✿ Accessories for your hair, shaped similarly to antelope horns, rings with grooves similar to that of an antelope, and she would sneak some reds and golds into them, along with the colors of your own house.

✿ Another way she would “brand” you would be by biting you. As much as she would like to leave it somewhere visible, she is more sensible than that. Your thighs are free game though. You’d be able to tell if she’s upset with you (or in general) by whether she draws blood or not. She would tend to take certain emotions out on you. If you whimper, she would remind you that this is what you’re here for. You’re an antelope, and she is the lion.

✿ She’s also clawing the absolute hell out of the back of your neck while you’re eating her out, but it’s okay because you’ll just wear your hair in a way that hides it.

Jaime Lannister

Sigil: Striped Horse (Zebra) [Note: I don’t think Zebras are ever name-dropped in ASOIAF. Zorses are, but not Zebras. But Zorses come from Zebras and I like Zebras so we’re using Zebras ok? cool.] ✿ You will never get a chance to ask him to do anything without him saying that the striped horse should not give be giving orders to the lion (but he will still do what you asked… if he feels like it and begrudgingly. But if he thinks it would be funnier to ignore your request, you’re on your own).

✿ Big “I know the striped horse is not talking rn” energy whenever you say anything ever. Unfortunately, bullying is one of his love languages.

✿ He would be similar to Cersei in the aspect that he would want you to have some piece of him that connects you to him, thus in a way branding you, but he would also want to have a piece of you that connects him to you.

✿ He is more likely to give you something with a lion on it straight up but perhaps in your colors. He might subtly take on your colors as well with something small with plausible deniability. For example, he carried a white ribbon on him (he is a knight of the Kingsguard, so it would not be questioned) and you carry a black one on you. If he were feeling more daring, he might take the black ribbon while you keep the white. He keeps it for good luck but would openly deny doing such a thing if you mentioned it.

✿ He is a yearner (something else he denies). If he is away from you for a certain amount of time, he will begin to find ways to see you in everything. He sees horses and that makes him think of striped horses and then that makes him think of you because that’s your house’s sigil. He sees a black and white cat, and you know what else is black and white? A striped horse :(

✿ Would literally bite your ass while undressing you, but it would be more of a nip than an actual bite. If your eyes widened and you looked down at him in shock, he would just smirk and say, “What? I’m a lion.”

✿ He would enjoy pinning you down in bed and playfully taunting you while nipping at your skin. He’d like it if you ‘fought back’ just so he can pin you down again.

Tyrion Lannister

Sigil: Warthog ✿ He would find a bit of irony in the idea of him being a lion and your somehow being a warthog and he would probably make self-deprecating jokes about it, likely that he thinks it should be reversed. He thinks that you are strong and beautiful like a lion, whereas he would put his appearance something closer to a warthog. But Tyrion does hold some complicated pride in being a lion, and he would be happy to make you one as well. ✿ He would probably do something similar to Robb, having something commissioned to honor both of your houses, but it would likely be on a grander scale (might as well put that Lannister gold to good use). Instead of wood carvings, it would likely be marble figures with rubies for the lion’s eyes and a stone of your house’s colors for your warthog. He would be very happy if you liked them. ✿ At some point in the relationship, he would jest that you’re certainly the prettiest pig that he has ever seen, that is for sure… and then immediately backpedal, saying perhaps he should not liken you to a pig. If you found humor in it, he would be relieved. ✿ Tyrion would have fun with it. He’s a very knowledgeable person, so he likely has some fun facts about warthogs stored up there to bring out whenever you do something he can compare it to. You’re somewhere you’re not supposed to be? Hogging (ha) the blankets? Well, warthogs are notorious trespassers and thieves (they steal other animals’ burrows) and you are truly a testament to that. ✿ He will have most definitely make the comment that he has no desire to strip the skin from your bones, but he does wish to strip you of something before reaching for your clothing. ✿ Cersei would be quite fond of your coat of arms, even more so once it is joined with the lion. A warthog is not a boar, but they are close enough in appearance as far as she is concerned. She would commission you clothes just to see a lion and a “boar” close together whenever she sees you, and she would pass it off as a good-sisterly gift. Tyrion suspects that his sister finds glee in the prospect because of how King Robert died (he is correct).

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blasphemousclaw · 5 months ago

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OK so a million years ago I made a post analyzing all the placements of the abductor virgin enemies throughout the game, and I came to the conclusion that they’re very deliberately placed as a gesture of protection from Rykard to his family members: there are two at Raya Lucaria, where his mother resides, one on the ramparts of Caria Manor, where his sister lays low, and one at Redmane Castle, where his brother commanded his army. But there isn’t just one abductor virgin in Caelid, there is also an entire cave filled with broken pieces of them — the Abandoned Cave.

The cave lies on the north cliff edge of the Swamp of Aeonia, where Malenia fought Radahn and unleashed the Scarlet Rot upon Caelid. There’s a lone abductor virgin patrolling the cliff opposite the cave entrance that looks to have killed several of the giant dogs:

The cave has some poisony mushroom guy enemies, those annoying flowers, and the boss of the cave is the Cleanrot Knight duo... all enemies that thrive in the rot. The cave itself is a bubbling swamp of scarlet rot, and there are broken abductor virgins absolutely everywhere.

The conclusion I came to about this cave in my post was that this army of abductor virgins was being stored inside, when the Scarlet Aeonia bloomed and flooded the cave with rot so violently that it destroyed all of the abductors. Why were they there in the first place? Since the abductors are specifically found at the residences of Rykard’s mother, sister, and brother (and not at the residences of any of his half/step-siblings), and since there is already one abductor at Redmane Castle, and since Rykard seems to have been fond of Radahn, hanging a portrait of him above his fireplace, the most sensible conclusion is that these abductor virgins were also meant for Radahn.

BUT, what was always mysterious to me was why Rykard would feel the need to give Radahn an entire army of abductor virgins. Rennala only gets two, and Ranni only gets one. What about Radahn’s situation would necessitate a whole army? My answer to this question had been kind of a handwavey “well, he’s fighting an offensive war so he’d need more weapons,” and that still could be true but I always felt like there might be a better explanation. WELL, with the revelations about Radahn from the DLC, I think I have one!

From the DLC, we learn that Radahn made a vow with Miquella, and his half of the vow was that he’d agree to be Miquella’s consort. But during the Shattering, it seems to me that things went awry: Malenia traveled across the entire continent just to kill Radahn at Miquella’s behest, so that he might be revived as Miquella’s consort... but Radahn didn’t die, and his great rune “burns, to resist the encroachment of the scarlet rot” to this day. The armies of both demigods can be found endlessly fighting each other as spirits in the War-Dead catacombs. This leads me to believe that Radahn was not prepared to die for Miquella’s sake here, he and his Redmanes fought Malenia and her Cleanrots to win. I think this conflict might’ve happened because during the Shattering, Radahn decided to pursue his own ends — perhaps influenced by his great rune’s “mad taint” — and became either unfaithful or simply a disappointment to Miquella. So Miquella sends Malenia to kill Radahn, and he later revives his soul, but specifically as the youthful version of Radahn whom he admired, not the mature Radahn of the Shattering.

Miquella’s version of Radahn (Radahn in his youth) vs. Rykard’s version of Radahn (a mature Radahn: face is more deeply lined, no braids, he’s wearing the armor style we see Starscourge Radahn wearing in-game and not the “Young Lion” armor)

While on her way to Caelid, Malenia would have had to march through Altus, past Mt. Gelmir. What if Rykard somehow discovered Malenia’s intentions before she reached Caelid? And he panicked, sending his brother a whole army of his war machines in order to keep him safe when he himself could not abandon his Manor? But Radahn refused to use them to protect himself, because above all he values honor on the battlefield and depends on his own strength to see himself through, and hiding behind machines in battle would be dishonorable and cowardly? So the army of abductor virgins sits unused in an abandoned Caelid cave, until Radahn and Malenia fight to a standstill, and the scarlet rot blooms, flooding the cave and destroying the army within? I think the DLC revelations slot into my previous speculations pretty nicely… and if Rykard had not yet fed himself to the serpent by the time Malenia fought Radahn, well, this would certainly give him another good reason to want to destroy the very system of the gods, wouldn’t it?

#elden ring #rykard #rykard lord of blasphemy #radahn #starscourge radahn #shadow of the erdtree spoilers #RYKARD!! LOVED!! RADAHN!!!! *throws all the furniture across the room with my telekinesis*

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monster-disaster · 3 months ago

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[monsters] for your hand

monster!suitor x human!princess!Reader Good to know: no warning

A/N: Here is a prologue for my idea of giving you, dear readers, some power to shape your story as a princess on my Patreon. I’ll create a poll for you to decide which three monsters you want to read about (each will get their own one-shot). And after their stories, there will be another poll where you can choose which one should win you.

Messengers race across the lands, spreading the news far and wide.

Your father, the king, sends out a word that shakes the kingdom to its core: only the bravest and most powerful may seek your hand in marriage. He announces a grand tournament, where kings, warriors, and champions can prove themselves worthy of you and the title you carry.

The lands are loud with anticipation. Knights shine their armor, kings dispatch their envoys, and lords ready their finest champions. Flags whip in the wind, trumpets echo through the hills, and every court is alive with excitement.

But your father, in his confidence, has forgotten one crucial detail: the world no longer belongs solely to humans. From the deep forests, towering mountains, and wild, untamed lands, the monsters have emerged. Creatures of legend and myth, once content to linger in the shadows, now step into the light, demanding their share of the world.

And they, too, have heard the king's decree. They, too, seek power, and more shockingly, they seek you.

Giants come out from their mountain homes, trolls leave their dark caves, and the nagas rise from distant swamps. Winged beasts glide over the castles of men, and hulking minotaurs stomp through the city gates. The warriors that arrive are not just men in gleaming armor but creatures of legend, each more fearsome than the last. The boundary between the familiar and the unknown begins to blur, and as the suitors gather, man and monster stand against each other. Knights in gleaming armor, chieftains draped in furs, and monstrous beings all come to stake their claim. The air is thick with dust, the ground marred by the struggle and fight.

One by one, the weak fall. The ground is stained with blood, and only the strongest remain, battered and breathless. The chaos of the early battles fades into a more intense struggle as the final competitors emerge. And as the week draws to a close, only four suitors remain: three fearsome monsters and a single human, your father's greatest warrior. But even he, the pride of your father's court, begins to falter. In the final moments of his battle, he is outmatched. Bruised and bloodied, he is forced to kneel before a monstrous opponent, his once-glorious armor cracked and dull.

A hush falls over the crowd as the kingdom's last human warrior falls.

Now, only the monsters remain.

And while your people are speechless with shock, you can't help but feel a thrill of excitement for what comes next.

The monsters you can choose from on my Patreon: - orc - werewolf - minotaur - naga - gnoll - cerberus - lion rakshasa - barbarians (two males) - golem - frost beast

#monster romance #monster x human #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #teratophillia #monster smut #monster fucker #terat0philliac #monster thoughts #monsterfucker #monster lover #monster kink #monster

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why-animals-do-the-thing · 7 months ago

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California zoo accessibility data dump

I just recently got back from a short (and fully covid-cautious) zoo road trip in Oregon and California, and wanted to share my notes re: accessibility at the facilities I visited. I'll get this all integrated into the spreadsheet, too.

Wildlife Safari - Winston, Oregon

This is a large drive-thru safari park with a free walk-about area attached that contains some small exhibits. Guests stay inside their cars the entire drive-thru, although there's at least one place to stop and sit in a gazebo to rest and use the bathroom (porta-potty only). You can pull over to watch animals for longer, and go through multiple times if you missed anything. It's a long drive-thru and there isn't really a good way to truncate the experience if you've got some kind of emergency. The roads are not flat, but they're well maintained and not bumpy.

The walkabout area is very small and contains bathrooms, food options, and other guest services. The paths are mostly concrete and well tended, although you do have to cross the steam train tracks to get to lion/some of the lemur viewing. I believe the Australia walkabout area was also unpaved. There's lots of parking in a big, flat, paved lot.

Sacramento Zoo - Sacramento, CA

This is a very cute, small inner-city facility - a good option if you don't want to try to walk a huge zoo in one day. There's lots of shade from all the plants and a good amount of benches throughout, including picnic tables with shade canopies. The paths are almost entirely flat and paved, with the exception of a boardwalk ramp up to the giraffe feeding and okapi viewing platforms. The cafe has gluten-free and vegetarian listings (maybe vegan?) on their menu. No straws are provided for animal safety, but if you need one, they can give you a reusable curly-straw from the slushies (kinda long and awkward for a normal cup) as an accommodation. They've got both water fountains and water bottle filling stations. Being build in a larger city park and recreation complex, there isn't a dedicated parking lot just for the zoo: the closest is across the street, shared with another attraction, and is kinda small. I've never had issues finding parking when I've gone, but sometimes it does involve a bunch of walking to get to the zoo entrance - if you have mobility or stamina limitations, probably best to get dropped off at the entrance and wait (there are benches).

San Francisco Zoo - San Francisco, CA

The SF Zoo is huge. There's lots of green / garden / swamp space that doesn't have habitats in it, but it means exhibits can be pretty far away, so plan your route accordingly. (Going out to the grizzly bears is the longest loop). Depending on the time of day, there's not always a ton of shade for guests either. There's a decent amount of benches, and quite a few are in decent proximity to animal viewing. After a somewhat long but not steep hill right at the entrance, the paths are all paved and fairly flat. There's a hill going down into/up from the Australia area / kids playground, but it's the only one I really noticed. There's a long elevated boardwalk through the lemur habitats that connects to the top of the new Madagascar construction - if you can't do stairs, as of Spring 2024, that's the only way to get up there to look down on the mandrills or see the top of the fossa habitat. (It's still under construction, so there might be an elevator in the building in the future). Back by the grizzlies, there's an old indoor rainforest building - while there's buttons to automatically open the door going in, I didn't find any on the first inside door going out. It makes sense they don't want both doors to open at once since it's a bird airlock, but not having independent ones on each door meant the day I used an ECV I got stuck in there until a nice staff member noticed.

All three times I've ever been to SF most of the little food kiosks haven't been open, and the vending machines for drinks have been hit and miss - so bring your own, or stock up at the cafe if you need to have supplies with you - but there are water fountains and water bottle filling stations around the zoo. There are interpretive audio boxes through the zoo in English and Spanish, used with a key you get at the entrance(?), but I heard a lot of complaints in passing about some of them not working. There's lots of parking at the zoo in a flat paved lot, and there's a specific dropoff area on one side for rideshares/mobility needs.

Oakland Zoo - Oakland, CA

To be clear up front - Oakland was the hardest facility to visit on this whole trip, with regards to mobility. We went twice, and I used an ECV (electric scooter) one and walked the other. Neither option was easy and both were exhausting. Oakland is a super hilly facility - you basically have to drive up a major hill to get to the zoo. The bottom half of the lower zoo can only be reached by going down pretty steep paths. The hills are also not graded to be "flat", so if you're in a wheelchair or ECV, you're going to have to lean to compensate for the tilt and balance the chair... while controlling it going down a steep hill. It's exhausting and kinda scary. (I don't even let other people carry my camera because $$, but I had to ask for help so I could focus on driving the ECV on those hills). There's also a lot of areas of the pathways that are not in the best repair, or patterned with pressed-in images, and multiple places actually have brass bugs embedded in the pavement so that they stick out above the surface. Lots of tripping hazards and/or things to rattle your teeth out rolling over. A couple places in the upper zoo (the California wilds area) the paths switch from paved to sand and back again, for drainage, maybe? On the upside, there's a lot of benches everywhere, including directly across from prime viewing areas.

Getting up to the upper zoo requires using a gondola - there's no walking option. You can actually take wheelchairs and ECVs on these, but you have to be ready to advocate for yourself. Normally, they don't stop the carriages completely, and expect people to walk on while they're still moving slowly. You can ask them to slow them down for you (I did, because knee issues plus torque is bad), or stop it completely if you need the time/help. When I took an ECV on, they had me disembark and get in one carriage, and they loaded it into the subsequent ones. This is fine because I can walk and stand on concrete for a while without it, but I'm not sure how that practice would work for people who need their mobility aids the whole time. They were very nice about managing the stopping and the loading and didn't make it feel like an imposition, too. If they stop the carriages completely at any point, there will be a loud buzzer/alarm when the ride starts back up. If you're close, it's pretty loud and startling. As they leave the track at the bottom the gondolas tip and dip a little, which can be scary if you're not expecting it - I think it's just the transition of the car from the loading bay onto the track itself. The rest of the ride is very smooth. The track is pretty high up and gives a great view of the bay and the surrounding cities, but face uphill if you don't do well with heights. Once at the upper zoo, the path from bald eagles through jaguar is mostly a boardwalk, but it's not too bumpy.

Oakland's parking is hard if you're not there early in the day, IMO. The overflow parking gets pretty far from the entrance, and starts to go up the hill towards the upper zoo. If the lot looks busy, drop anyone with mobility/stamina issues off at the entrance before parking. Unlike many other zoos I've visited, Oakland's ECVS have added sunshades, which is really nice (and which I should have used).

Monterey Zoo - Salinas, CA

This is a fairly small facility with most habitats on one level, but some big cats and bears are up a pretty big hill. The walkways are paved and flat, and there's an ADA-graded boardwalk ramp that takes you to the top of the hill. The pipes used for the handrails on both the stairs and the ramp get very hot in the sun, however. There's a boardwalk up to the rhino overlook. They indicate that their bathrooms are accessible, but the ones in the main building didn't have bars for transferring - I didn't check the ones up on the hill. At one point in the day speakers along the path started playing really loud pop music (drowned out the birds) and it was very overwhelming. There's lots of handicapped parking spots across from the front entrance, but if you don't have a tag, the rest of the spots are up a bit of a hill and a small walk from the entrance. They do have a note, though, that they can help if you need accessible parking and don't see any, so you could probably call/have someone to go in and ask for an accommodation.

Sequoia Park Zoo - Eureka, CA

This is another nice small facility, very doable for a half-day trip. The paths are paved and flat, and there's benches available. There's a lot of shade, although it can depend on the time of day, and places to fill a water-bottle. The sky-walk through the redwoods is accessible, but might be a little difficult depending on mobility limitations - its' a very sturdy boardwalk through the canopy of the tall trees. (I had more thoughts on this from my last visit, I'll dig out those notes). If you can do even part of it, it's worth it, and there's places to turn around. Because it's in a residential area of the town there's not a huge dedicated parking lot, but lots of street parking and a decent lot directly across the street. I've never had difficulty finding parking, and you can drop people off at the entrance easily.

#accessibility project #zoo accessibility #my notes #zoo accessibility project #disability rights #disability access #ada compliance

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zukosdualdao · 7 months ago

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“i bet he ran away again" is toph's first thought about what's happened to aang. and that's... that’s genuinely a horrible thing to have to expect from their friend, who they have all agreed to be there for and fight with, and while aang did not intentionally run away (since it seems like the call of the lion turtle pulled him in a sort of fugue-state, similarly to how the swamp did), it’s not inconsistent with his past behavior. and they don't know he didn't just leave, and whatever the reason, it does still leave them scrambling. and i get that aang is a kid under pressure, and that's the defense fandom often uses for some really odd writing choices that result in aang not always looking great, but they’re ALL kids under pressure, and up to this point, the plan was for them to face ozai together!

it also just feels really inconsistent with what the show's set up prior to this. as much as i love the airship sequence with toph, sokka, and suki, and the final agni kai with katara and zuko, the show has gone out of its way to say in the past that aang doesn't have to be alone to fight the fire lord, that his strength comes not just from his power but his love and friendships. but, while he's not alone in the big, thematic, grand scheme of things - they're all still fighting the good fight with him in different ways - aang does end up in the position of fighting ozai alone. and it just feels like a weird writing choice, and it does actually make me sad for him as well as frustrated with his arc. all of the other characters get these big emotional moments with each other in the finale. but a lot of aang's part of the story falls flat for me because there's just less emotional resonance to it. he spends most of it completely separated from the relationships at the heart of the show. that's always somewhat of an issue with "chosen one" stories, and sometimes they examine and subvert it but sometimes it's played straight. and it just feels like the show tried to subvert it (thinking of the plot in the awakening) and then said "nope, nevermind" at the very end.

#atla critical #alta rewatch '24 #fandom critical #aang critical #sozin's comet #this went a few different directions oops

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aesopsharpmybeloved · 2 years ago

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Some Like It Sharp

You and professor Sharp became very close after the events of your fifth year at Hogwarts. Just how close is unspoken for a long time. Until it isn't.

I know I should be writing father Paul, but I started playing Hogwarts Legacy and became a little addicted. And then I went to potions class. I saw professor Sharp, in all his limping scarred glory and immediately thought 'Oh. Oh no...' And that was that.

EDIT: I MANAGED TO ADD SOME VOICELINES ON AO3

tw: age difference (reader is 17-18, which is of age in the wizarding world), student-teacher relationship, mentions of trauma (emotional and physical)

Some Like It Sharp

(8.6k words)

You sighed deeply as your brow furrowed in concentration. Six finely crushed snake fangs soon disappeared in your cauldron. Momentarily, you lifted your eyes and gazed longingly at the person across the room from you. Professor Aesop Sharp was sitting at his round desk, a quill in his hand and a stack of third years’ essays in front of him. Every now and then, you could hear him utter a soft ‘tsk’, his dark hair bouncing as he shook his head. Even in his annoyance he was beautiful, you thought. Despite being a Slytherin, he reminded you of a lion, so strong and proud, not even his obvious limp was able to tarnish the image.

“Miss (L/N).” sounded right next to your ear, making you jump and turn your head towards the voice. Your wide startled eyes connected with professor Sharp’s own intense dark orbs. ‘When did he move?’ you thought, your heart in your throat.

“Miss, (L/N), I believe I asked you to brew a cure for boils. However, whatever concoction is currently in your cauldron looks more like it would cause them. Care to explain yourself?”

You hurriedly looked down at your cauldron and discovered the potion master was right. Instead of the orange hue the potion should have at this stage, it was a rather distasteful shade of swamp green. ‘How could this have happened?’

“Sir,” you began meekly, “I’m sorry, I don't know-... I think I got-”

“Distracted?” asked professor Sharp matter of factly, his voice lacking any sort of the annoyance it’d usually have. “Do tell, Miss (L/N),” he started circling around you like a predator, his lame leg not making the motion any less intimidating, “do you feel like my classes are so boring, or so easy, perhaps, that you can afford to daydream while ruining a first year potion?”

Your eyes hadn't left him for a second. You shivered involuntarily. You were the only person in the classroom. ‘When did everyone leave?’ “No, sir, I- O-of course not, I-?”

A single long digit pressed against your slightly open mouth, effectively cutting your eloquent speech short. Sharp stood in front of you now, and you felt your cheeks turning red. You exhaled shakily. “Daydreaming in my class… I don’t think detention is enough of a punishment. Do you?” Sharp practically purred into your ear, his acute words said in an almost teasing manner. He was so close now, so close you felt his hot breath on your neck as he spoke, his forefinger replaced by his thumb on your mouth, and he pulled the lower lip down, opening your mouth further.

You couldn't speak, only able to stare at his mouth as he pulled back slightly to look at you. A small smile appeared on his face and he finally moved forward, sealing his mouth over your own and immediately pushing his tongue inside. You gasped, but almost right away threw your hands around his neck and succumbed to his bruising kiss.

“(F/N),” he sighed once you had to part for breath. You smiled at him and wanted to connect your lips once more. Only then -

“(F/N)! Come on, wake up, we’re going to be late for Transfiguration!” you heard someone call out.

“What?” you asked and looked around. You weren’t in the potions classroom, nor were you standing in professor Sharp’s embrace. You weren’t standing at all, actually. Your dormitory’s light blue walls appeared before your eyes, as well as an annoyed face of Samantha Dale.

—

"You are so lucky I forgot my homework upstairs!" panted Samantha, "Otherwise I would have gone straight to class after breakfast. And you'd still be asleep." You were pretty much running, not wanting to be late for professor's Weasley's class, yet you casted a grateful smile in Samantha's direction: "You are a lifesaver, Sam."

Samantha kept rambling on, as she usually did, but your mind was still focused on your dream.

You and professor Sharp had gotten particularly close during the past year and a half. Ever since your last battle with Ranrok, the potions master treated you a little differently. Most of the professors did, of course, but you found a sense of peace with Sharp especially.

You missed professor Fig every day. He was something of a father figure for you nearly from day one, and you felt all sorts of broken watching him die in your arms.

The first time professor Sharp invited you into his office outside of class, you felt strangely numb still, your exhaustion and grief leaving you with what felt like a hole in your heart. Some of the other professors sat you down before them previously, and you forced yourself to fake a little smile and persuade them that you were alright.

It didn’t work on Sharp. He didn’t pry, didn’t force you to relive the painful memories as you thought he would. Instead his chatter was nearly light, talking about your school work, hobbies, the various activities outside of the castle, even talking about himself every once in a while. Soon you realised you found solace in your conversations.

Only when you were given time to heal did you dare to actually talk about what happened that day… That year, really. Professor Sharp listened quietly, never pressing for details you weren’t ready to give, only asking for further explanation sometimes.

—

The first time you broke down in tears before him, he stood to limp over to you. With a steady warm hand on your shoulder, he conjured up a handkerchief and pressed it into your palm. You thanked him and tried to get yourself under control once more. He didn’t say anything, only drew small circles into your shoulder with his thumb.

After you left his office that evening, you realised just how hungry you were. It hit you by surprise, really, you hadn’t felt this hungry since that fateful day. You’d eat when it was meal time, but all food tasted the same to you. This evening, however, when you put some chicken with rice on your plate, you tasted every single spice used, the meat falling apart on your tongue. You groaned audibly and let your eyes close.

“Heh, good to see you getting your appetite back!” said Amit across from you, a sweet smile on his face. Your cheeks a little red in embarrassment, you smiled back at him before diving into your meal once more.

It struck you later that night as you were lying in your bed, staring into the darkness. Sharp knew exactly how to help you, because he knew what you were likely going through. All of the professors had their stories, some of them experienced loss as well, but only Sharp had ever gone through something as traumatic as yourself. Maybe he behaved towards you the way he would’ve wished someone behaved towards him before, back when his partner died on the job and he barely escaped with his life.

—

The next evening, you were back in his office. He accepted you wordlessly, curiously peeking at a small bag you brought with you. Inside of it were various rare ingredients you collected on your adventures or harvested in the Room of Requirement. The potions master took them with a quiet ‘thank you’ and that was that. He didn’t ask where you got them and how, knowing that as your teacher, he might not like your answer. But he was grateful, you knew. It didn’t need to be spoken in order to be understood.

Back when you first met him, you understood why some may find him intimidating, why he rubs them the wrong way. Sharp was strict, with a no-nonsense kind of attitude. He was hard on his students, and when he saw potential in them, he was even harder, striving for perfection. But the more time you spent with him, the more you saw the undeniable kindness within him. As cutting as his critique could be, his praises filled you with a great sense of pride and accomplishment. They pushed you to try even harder, to make him proud.

Little by little, it began to make no sense to you why some students found him evil, or even outright foul. Professor Sharp was anything but evil and foul.

In a way, you expected him to become a parental figure to you as well, like professor Fig was. Only, he didn’t. It frightened you the first time you looked at him and caught yourself thinking that you’d like to press your palm against his cheek, feel his prickly looking stubble, trace the scar on his face. “Something the matter, miss (L/N)?” he asked with a lifted brow. Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment as you hurriedly looked away, an apology leaving your mouth.

—

It got worse after that. You enjoyed spending time with him too much. You found he had a dark, dry sense of humour, that his wit was quicker than lightning and sharper than a knife, but also that he possessed a certain gentleness. You noticed his eyes would linger on your fondly when he thought you weren’t looking. It always made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

You knew that he liked to draw, having been in his private chambers when you were searching for those blasted demiguise statues (not that you’d ever tell him), but having him actually showing them to you felt strangely intimate. The passage through his fireplace you had to crawl through turned into a large doorway after he tapped it with the tip of his wand. He said he can’t always make it upstairs if the pain in his leg is too much, but he nevertheless enjoyed spending time there. You were fairly certain you were the first person he showed his work to.

You saw a few drawings you didn’t recognise, as you hadn’t been to his chambers since - it was mostly parts of Hogwarts, a few scribbles of Hogsmeade as well. However, there was also a number of various paintings of beasts, hippogriffs, graphorns and such. You smiled when he showed you, already knowing you wouldn’t be meeting in his chambers the next time.

—

His curiosity was obviously peaked, as he accepted your request to wait for you in the seventh floor corridor, by the troll tapestry. You winced slightly when you saw him leaning against the wall, the stairs obviously not doing anything for his leg. Yet, when he acknowledged your presence, you offered him a reassuring smile, hoping what you were about to show him would make it up to him.

He watched you pace three times in front of the tapestry, his brow raised in question. You grinned when his dark eyes widened at the sight of a door materialising seemingly out of nowhere. You opened it and entered. “Come in, sir,” you said, turning to face him. He hobbled over, his right hand twitching as if he wanted to reach for his wand. Always vigilant.

With no small amount of satisfaction, you watched as his mouth opened in surprise of your Room of Requirement, eyes trying to take in as much as they could, utterly disbelieving. His gaze was caught by a large potion station on one side of the room, directly next to a herbology table, where your various magical plants were currently being watered.

“Ah, you’re back,” came a high pitched voice from somewhere, “Deek thinks it’s almost time to harvest the mandrakes- oh, professor Sharp!” Without looking at the house elf, still busy taking in the room, the potions master offered a small ‘Hello, Deek.’

“I will see to it. Deek, can I ask you a favour?” you smiled at him reassuringly. He replied with a smile of his own: “Of course. What can Deek do for you?” “Could you perhaps bring us some tea later? First there is something I want to show to the professor.” With a nod and a snap on his fingers, Deek was gone.

“What is this place?” asked professor Sharp, finally looking at you. “The Room of Requirement,” you replied simply, “professor Weasley showed it to me last year and urged me to use it how I see fit, mostly to aid me in my studies. Come sir, please, I do want to show you something.”

You lead the teacher up one of the staircases towards the swamp vivarium. You entered, with Sharp following close behind, slightly apprehensive at the feeling of wetness underneath his boots. This time you couldn’t conceal your chuckle as his jaw once again dropped. Your thestral friends noticed your arrival and immediately set on to welcome you. You laughed gently as the baby thestral nudged at your hand with its little skeletal beak, craving your loving touch.

With a few flicks of your wand, you brushed the animals and replenished their automatic feeder, all the while still stroking the little thestral’s head. Sepulchria, its mother, meanwhile took interest in professor Sharp, sniffing at him warily before deciding he posed no danger to her offspring.

Almost like on its own accord, Sharp’s hand travelled up to touch the mare, his calloused fingers coming to rest on her neck. “This is incredible,” he breathed out, as he caressed the creature’s glossy skin.

“When I was first able to see them, I found them a little frightening,” you admitted, conjuring a bench for the two of you to sit down on, the little one’s head immediately coming to rest on your lap, “it was right after the dragon attack, when I saw Mr Osric…” You got quiet. Professor Sharp sat next to you. Sepulchria and her mate, a male thestral you named Phobos, settled into the moist grass nearby, seeming perfectly happy to hang around while you and your teacher talked. Their offspring, Juno flapped its wings contentedly, leaning into your hand.

“Of course, I quickly learned of their good qualities,” you continued, forcing your tone to be light. “It was only after… After professor Fig died… that I found real comfort in them. They are amazing creatures, so gentle. In a way, I feel like they are exactly what a person needs to see, when they… when they watch somebody die.”

As per usual, Sharp let you speak, giving you time to gather your wits about you, think over the words you were going to say. He had no patience for fools who would bring chaos into his class, or his life, but he had all the patience with you. “They are scary at first and they have a sad aura around them… But they are here and they mean no harm. They’re a part of this world as death is a part of life. Death is not intentionally cruel, even if it sometimes forces us to go through life without some person we love.”

You heard a soft exhale next to you, then felt warmth on your free hand, as the professor’s fingers closed around it. You didn’t know how long you sat there in silence, hand in hand, just watching the skeletal equines and wandering through your own minds. “There is no without,” the potion master said suddenly, making you startle a bit. “They may not be around to talk to us, but as long as we remember them fondly, as long as we still let them guide us, they will never be really gone.”

You squeezed his hand. It was calloused and warm, and fit in yours perfectly. “I think there’s tea ready for us, sir.”

—

“Do you mind telling me where exactly are we going in the dead of night?” asked professor Sharp morosely as the two of you descended another flight of stairs in the Central hall. You didn’t know when it happened, but some time back the teacher let you support him when on stairs. As long as it was just the two of you, of course. He held onto your arm and leaned a portion of his weight on you, mindful not to step on his bad leg too much.

You wouldn’t tell him, but you loved when he did that. Having him so close, you were hyper-aware of his unique scent, which was so enchanting to you. It was like a mix between sandalwood, parchment paper and a hint of firewhiskey, and you had to restrain yourself from inhaling it deeply, so that it wouldn’t be obvious you were getting high on it. If you were to smell amortentia, you were certain this was what it’d smell like to you.

“Need I remind you that you are outside your dorm room after curfew? That’s a sure way to get you in trouble.” he quipped, no bite behind his words. “I’m with a teacher, surely an exception can be made?” you replied back, your tone light and amicable. Back when you first met him, you wouldn’t have imagined you’d share such banter with the potions master, he seemed far too serious for that. You still showed him nothing but respect in class, but outside of it, when the two of you were alone, you allowed yourself to tease him sometimes. You were always met with mild amusement and slight exasperation in reply.

Sharp sighed next to you: “I really shouldn’t encourage you in this… Should give you detention for a week, helping me grade exams.” He blinked in surprise at the happy smile you gave him: “I wouldn’t mind that.” The professor stopped walking in order to stare at you in disbelief. You felt your cheeks going red under his intense gaze. Oh no, you thought, have I said too much? Can he see right through me?

Finally, the potion master chuckled and shook his head: “You are a strange young woman, miss (L/N).”

You found yourselves on the school grounds, the cool night air making you hum contentedly. Despite no longer walking down the stairs, professor Sharp held onto your arm for support. You brought your free hand to your mouth and whistled on your fingers. A flurry of movement followed almost immediately. A gust of wind ruffled your hair as a white hippogriff landed in front of you. You let go of your teacher slowly, making sure he was prepared to stand on his own again, and approached the beast.

“Hello, Highwing,” you cooed and stroked her beak lovingly. Professor Sharp stood motionlessly, observing the majestic creature with no small amount of awe. “Poppy Sweeting introduced me to her after my first Beast class,” you explained, carding your fingers through Highwing’s soft feathers, “sometime later me and Natty rescued her and one more hippogriff from poachers led by Harlow and Rookwood. And the hippogriffs ended up saving our lives the very same night.”

Sharp listened quietly, his brows furrowed. “I think I’ll rather not ask any questions, (F/N), else I actually might give you that detention,” he said then. He didn’t call you by your first name often, but when he did, it always madea wave of fondness run through you. You wondered if you’d ever be allowed to call him Aesop. You tried rolling the name off your tongue many times when you were alone, deciding it was a beautiful name and that it fit him perfectly.

Carefully balancing himself on his good leg, he gave a deep bow to the beast, knowing how proud they were. A few seconds passed before Highwing deemed his action courteous enough to reply in kind.

The potions master hobbled towards her slowly, extending a hand to pat her feathered neck. He did startle however, when you nimbly climbed atop the creature, settling comfortably between its grand wings. “What are you doing, miss (L/N)?” he asked, narrowing his eyes when you offered your hand to him. “Please sir,” you spoke quietly, your smile seemingly glowing even in the darkness around you two, “trust me.”

He debated with himself whether he finally went mad. It was nearly midnight, and while summer was quickly approaching, the nights were still rather cold. He was standing on school grounds and a student was proposing to him with, what, a hippogriff ride? He was way too old for this. Yet, as he looked at your extended hand and the positively beaming look on your face, he sighed. He probably was mad.

The potions master took your hand and marvelled at your strength as you seemed to have absolutely no problem pulling him up and behind you. Only now it hit him that he didn’t take into consideration where he’d put his hands. Very awkwardly, he placed them on each side of your waist.

Feeling the steady warmth of his body against your back made a rush of blood course through you, and you were suddenly glad to not be able to look at him. Your cheeks were so hot and red, he’d be able to figure you out immediately. You craved to enjoy the feeling of his hands on you, and even thought about buying a pensieve, just so you could watch the memory of this again and again.

You shook your head. There would be time for that later. Right now, you dragged him all the way out here and onto a hippogriff, might as well give him a brilliant memory too.

“Highwing, go!” you called out, grabbing onto the beast’s neck more tightly. The hippogriff cried and stood on its hind legs before breaking into a gallop. Professor Sharp cursed next to your ear and finally wrapped his arms around your waist fully. Propriety be damned, the teacher doubted falling off a racing hippogriff would do any good to his leg. Or any other part of him, really. Highwing spread her wings, their span positively huge, and Sharp felt they were no longer on the cobblestone path.

The flapping of wings forced the professor to close his eyes as they soared higher and higher. Then it stopped and Aesop finally looked. His breath caught in his throat. He remembered flying around on his broom when he was a student himself, but it suddenly struck him that he never did so at night.

It was ethereally beautiful. The moon shone on the great castle, white glow reflecting on the roofs. There were lights on in various parts of the castle. It stood under them in all its glory, sure and steady, yet ever changing. The castle was like a living organism, stony body, a kind soul and a heart constantly drumming with magic, holding so many secrets within the historical walls, Aesop was sure that even if he lived to be two hundred years old, he’d never be able to discover all of them.

It was so serene, yet so humbling, the professor momentarily felt weightless, not feeling his blasted leg at all, for once free of all of his guilt, of all the pain he ever experienced.

He didn’t realise he was squeezing you closer, that his chin was leaning on your shoulder. Something you were very much aware of, trying your best not to tremble under his touch. It was both salvation and damnation and you found yourself thinking how easy it would be to just turn your head to the side and capture his lips. You held yourself back, gently bumping his head with your own instead.

Highwing slowly descended above the murky waters of the Black lake. Sharp saw the giant squid thrust one tentacle above the surface, as if greeting the three of you. Feeling impossibly young, he laughed, and he laughed until his lungs hurt. You laughed with him, releasing a giddy whoop, when the hippogriff decided it was time to take to the skies again.

You eventually landed on a coast south of Hogwarts. Professor Sharp felt his spirits dampen somewhat at the sight of you flawlessly leaping from the beast’s back and onto the ground, your movements noble and elegant, and so youthful. Yet, once you looked at him, all smiles and messed up hair, a grin broke on his face as well. He let you help him down, his good leg taking most of the blow of impact with the ground.

Nevertheless, he winced. Oh, he was going to need at least two phials of Wiggenweld potion once he was back in his chambers. Trying to push his pain away, he spoke in a light tone: “So, that’s what you’ve been doing when you were supposed to be in the castle? In bed?” You gave him a little guilty smile: “Sometimes. You’ve got to admit, though, this is rather exhilarating.”

The professors sighed and leaned against a nearby boulder: “As your teacher, I should really be condemning this sort of behaviour instead of encouraging it… However, you’re right. It was exhilarating. And very beautiful. I am thankful for the experience.”

He scanned his surroundings, moonlight illuminating the area enough for Aesop to be sure you wouldn’t get ambushed by some poacher, or a pack of mongrels.

When he was sure the two of you were alone, he sat on a nearby boulder, content to rest for a bit.

The professor watched as you picked up a pebble using your wand, and made it skip over the dark water. You truly were something else. He was aware that the amount of time he spent with you was frankly inappropriate, seeing as you were his student, but he just couldn’t help it. The potion master did try to put some distance between you in the past, but it was no use. You’d always come find him and he couldn’t turn you away.

He didn’t know when he stopped trying to set this distance. Maybe when the last couple of times it was him who caved in. Him, who invited you over for a cup of tea, unsure whether he’d be more glad if you accepted, or if you refused. Never once did you refuse. He realised that such distance was actually the last thing he wanted, that you actually became… friends. Close friends.

He angrily shushed the little voice in his head that tried to ask ‘Just friends?’.

Oh yes. That was the reason he wanted to set the distance, how could he have forgotten?

You turned seventeen some time ago, officially of age, but that didn’t make Aesop feel any better. You were very mature for your age, and probably have been for a long time. He had no problem seeing you as his equal, despite you being so much younger than him. But as he watched you skipping stone after stone, he could feel his guilt suffocating him, seeing tiny traces of the child you stopped being when you watched your mentor die before your eyes.

He should probably mount the hippogriff, fly really high up and throw himself off the beast. But oh, how much he longed to join you at the bank and wrap a protective arm around you.

“Sir? Are you alright?” you noticed him staring at you, and saw him cough awkwardly. “We should probably head back,” the potions master decided then, slowly hobbling over to Highwing, who seemed to be happily hunting for squirrels since your arrival.

He enjoyed holding you to him while he could. He didn’t actually want to plummet to his death after all, so it was perfectly acceptable to grip you tight.

“Are you sure you’re alright, professor? You don’t want me to walk you to your chambers?” you asked with worry in your voice. Highwing’s form was rapidly disappearing in the dark sky. “I am quite well. You should go to your dormitory. Probably best to use the disillusionment charm as well.”

He didn’t know if the smile you gave him then made him want to laugh or cry, your eyes were filled with such fondness and wonder, Aesop honestly felt like the very air around him got warmer. He wasn't ready when you grasped his hand: “Thank you, sir. I’m glad you joined me tonight.” Oh. And the professor definitely wasn’t ready for you to get up on your tiptoes to press your lips against his left cheek, right where his scar ended.

Not a second later you were nearly translucent and slowly getting away from him. “Miss (L/N)! Detention.” he called after you. You had the audacity to giggle, before the door to the Entrance hall opened and you slipped in.

—-

Aesop Sharp knew he was playing with fire when he responded to your letters that summer. It was the summer before your seventh year. He very nearly had a heart attack when a greater sooty owl appeared on his windowsill one morning, bearing a letter with your handwriting. There was no address, just his name. Seeing as he lived quite close to Hogwarts, it really wasn’t that much of a surprise the owl was able to find him.

He gave it some food and water, a single digit coming to scratch under its head. It leaned into his touch. A beautiful bird, indeed. Aesop briefly wondered whether you managed to find it from some exotic breeder in England, or if it truly was an Aussie owl. It was also a clever one, wouldn’t leave without a reply and would get increasingly more anxious for him to at least open the letter.

He tried to put it off, afraid of what he was to find there. The letter sat on a table in his dining room and he’d regularly come to stare at it morosely, as if willing it to open without having to touch it. The breaking point came late in the evening. The bird would leap onto his left shoulder and peck at his scar rather painfully, before jumping onto the table and standing in front of the letter, giving him a pointed look.

The bloody beast had an attitude!

“Yes, yes, you’ve made your point clear!” he growled in its general direction and shooed her off with his hand. He sat down and summoned his pen knife. He knew he was stalling, cutting the pristine white envelope open much slower than he usually would. Sharp was immediately hit with the sweet smell of your perfume.

Finally, he pulled the letter out and unfolded it.

Why in Salazar’s name had he been so terrified?

You mostly described how you summer was thus far, confirming his suspicion that you indeed bought your owl in Australia. Her name was Diana apparently. You also promised to bring him some potion ingredients which were exclusive to the country, some of them so obscure Aesop had to look them up in his copy of Moste Potente Potions. Oh, how he looked forward to experimenting with them. Maybe some of them would be the key in discovering the cure for his leg!

You finished your letter with a wish that his summer was lovely as well, and that you were looking forward to seeing him again.

When he finished reading, Aesop put his head into his hands and smiled at the same time. He was in a bit of a pickle, wasn’t he?

You wrote letters to each other for the remainder of the summer. Aesop soon learned Diana only cared that he read your letters quickly, but was alright with him taking his time to actually answer them. Most of the letters were quite professional, discussing potions, your upcoming seventh year (actually your third year at Hogwarts), the NEWT subjects you’d take exams from, and possible future careers. Professor Sharp didn’t worry about the letters - there wasn’t a school rule prohibiting a teacher to be friends with a student, as long as it didn’t collide with their education or professional relationship.

The fact that there also wasn’t a rule prohibiting a teacher to engage with an adult student romantically was left unsaid somewhere deep in his mind.

—

Aesop Sharp and most of the teachers and staff arrived at Hogwarts two weeks before the start of term. Matilda would soon be sending out shopping lists and acceptance letters. He was rather glad he wasn’t the one hand delivering these letters to Muggleborns - not that he ever believed in the ‘pure blood’ nonsense, he just wasn’t feeling up to running around Britain and Ireland to explain magic to Muggles. Matilda was kind enough to leave him out of that. Though, he had a reason to believe she did so not because of his leg, but because of the possibility he might actually scare the children into not attending.

Thankfully for everyone, this year’s Muggleborns would be taken care of by Mirabel and Abraham, who were way more enthusiastic about this task than Aesop would ever be.

—

Professor Sharp felt rather foolish, actually.

He stood in Potage's Cauldron Shop, instructing the clerk to send his newly purchased silver and brass cauldrons to Hogwarts, all the while looking through the window hoping to catch a glimpse of you. You didn’t tell him when you’d be visiting Diagon Alley to pick up the textbooks you needed this year, but Aesop kind of hoped to run into you anyway.

He sighed deeply once he left the rather stuffy shop. He could’ve easily ordered all of today's purchases from the comfort of his own office, but no, he’s going to act like a lovestruck teenager instead. The professor frowned. At least he took his cane today, he thought grimly as he hobbled over to the Leaky Cauldron, more than ready to eat something, and possibly even improve his mood with a drop of firewhisky.

He did feel better with a stomach full of hare stew and nursing his third glass, when a voice he missed all summer sounded right behind him.

“Hello, professor Sharp. Fancy seeing you here,” Aesop’s head snapped to the left. There you were. And you were breathtaking. Clad in a lovely dark green dress which fell to your ankles, with pristine white collar and sleeves. Upon your head sat a stylish wizard hat decorated with late summer flowers. The potions master was used to seeing you in your uniform, and occasionally in an ensemble of blouses and trousers that allowed you to move freely.

Now you were garbed in the pinnacle of late 19th century fashion, looking like an elegant lady of high society. And what an absolutely beautiful lady at that. “Miss (L/N),” he replied, a little out of breath. You gave him a kittenish grin, betraying your otherwise mature appearance a little: “Mind if I join you?” Aesop stood with some difficulty and motioned to an empty chair opposite of him: “by all means, miss, sit.”

You sat down together and soon shared a little toast - the professor with another glass (last one, drinking more would be terribly unwise) and his young friend with a goblet of rosé. For a while, neither of you said anything.

“You look… well,” said Aesop then, cursing himself for not being able to come up with anything better, “your dress is lovely.” You gave him another smile: “Thank you. My mother insisted that I should wear it. ‘A proper lady’, she said. Between you and me, I cannot wait to get out of this thing. The lace is itchy and I’m rather surprised I haven’t passed out from oxygen deficiency yet, seeing as how tight my corset is tied.”

Professor Sharp shook his head - he never understood why Muggle women willingly used these torture devices on themselves. “Got everything you need for the start of term?” he asked instead. “I do,” you replied, “it was a lot. I’m happy to be able to do magic outside of school now, and make it all fit in here.” You patted your handbag fondly.

Aesop didn’t know how much time passed. You told him about your summer in detail (as you usually kept your letters short and to the point), talking about your visit to Australia for quite a while. He was happy to listen, your voice music to his ears. The way you spoke, carried yourself, your gesticulations - you were a grown woman. The little slips into child-like manners (a grin here, a wild hand motion there) were not those of an actual child - it was simply your personality. Mature, yet youthful, wise, yet passionate.

And the way you sometimes looked at him, when you thought he couldn’t see. It gave him hope. It terrified him. It made him want to lay his hand atop yours on the table. Made him want to reach over, grab your face and press his mouth on your own. He did nothing. He only smiled at you.

It was dark outside once you parted ways. You held his hand and said how much you’re looking forward to his classes and his company again. You promised to hand deliver him the ingredients you got him. He nearly forgot his cane in the pub.

With a final smile and a loud crack, you disapparated.

Aesop stood before Hogwarts gate, not five minutes later. He missed supper, but didn’t find it in himself to care. He made his way to his chambers, all the alcohol he drank long gone from his system. He actually looked forward to the beginning of term when it meant having you around.

What in Salazar’s name was he going to do next year?

—

In Aesop’s eyes, you were exceptionally beautiful. Unfortunately for him, however, some of your peers seemed to share this opinion. The astronomy obsessed boy from your house gazed at you like you were a holy picture. Sebastian Sallow seemed intent on having all of your attention for himself, constantly finding new ways to keep you entertained and get into trouble. Even the Gaunt boy, while lacking eyesight, seemed to somehow sense your desirability. Aesop just prayed it wouldn’t be Garreth Weasley who caught your fancy.

Each time he overheard someone (usually boys, occasionally a girl) asking you out, his heart closed in on itself and only started beating properly again after your (very gentle) refusal of their proposition. And then it would dance with bliss when you’d turn up on his doorstep instead.

Ever since that afternoon in Diagon Alley, those unspoken words between the two of you gained in intensity. More familiar touches occurred. Sometimes you’d hold his hand when you spoke of your extracurricular adventures. Aesop would run his thumb over its back, listening intently. It always took him by surprise how much trust you had in him, seeing as both of you were aware some of your escapades would result in loss of points and plenty of detentions. Never from him, though.

—

One time you held him to you, his head cradled into your neck. You came to his quarters at a bad time. His leg was acting up and his potions weren’t helping. His pain induced desperation was made worse by his guilt. What was he thinking? He was a cripple, entirely too old for you. You deserved better. Even that blasted Weasley boy would have been better for you than him. He should never have looked at you like he did. It was quite normal for a student to develop a crush on their teacher (the stories Mirabel could tell), but the teacher shouldn’t indulge the student. Aesop was nothing but indulgent with you.

He tried to send you away when he heard your knocking that evening. His pain and despair must have found way into his voice, because you didn’t leave. You came right in and locked the door behind you. He snapped at you, told you to get out of his chambers. You disobeyed and came even closer.

You kneeled before him, your eyes kind and full of compassion. His own were filled with tears that would never be shed. Aesop didn’t cry anymore. He was close to it today though. You massaged the muscles in his leg after you've applied a heating charm to the fabric of his trousers. His head hung low in guilt and shame, and Sharp hoped you would just leave. He was pitiful and you deserved better, why wouldn’t you leave him to his misery?

You didn’t leave. Of course you didn’t. He shouldn’t have thought for a single second that a witch who defeated a troll during her first week in school, after living as a muggle for nearly 16 years, would just leave. She held him, pulled him to her entirely. He could smell her perfume, felt her nimble fingers in his hair. Heard her soft voice shushing him, trying to bring him comfort. He allowed himself to wrap his arms around her. Aesop cried.

—

“Have you given any more thought to your future after you finish school?” he asked one day. Snow was falling outside, staff and students were preparing for the Christmas holidays. Behind him, sitting in one of his armchairs, you sighed. “It’s complicated,” you admitted then, “I’d rather be a curse breaker for Gringotts than an Auror, that’s for sure. No offence.” He grinned. “None taken. I’d like to be able to say that I’m glad you’d choose something safer than the Auror office. However, curse breaking is not exactly much safer, is it?” Finally he turned to look at you: “You didn’t take into consideration… shopkeeping, perhaps?”

The look you gave him was almost enough to make him laugh. He settled for turning the corners of his mouth slightly upwards. “With all due respect, sir, can you imagine me behind the counter the entire day, promoting fantastic new sales and gossipping with witches on maternity leaves?” Sharp couldn’t hold it in anymore and chuckled openly. “Point taken,” he agreed.

“You know you can change careers later in life, right? Don’t have to be stuck doing one thing forever…” you gave him a questioning look, waiting for him to elaborate. “Listen, professor Hecat is… still battling time itself. And she isn’t winning. There will come a time when a new professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts is needed. And if you excel in your NEWTs the way you did in your OWLs…” Your mouth opened in disbelief: “Are you saying I could someday teach in Hogwarts?”

He sat down into an armchair opposite of you, propping his bad leg on a footstool. “You possess the skill and the knowledge. I dare say you love this castle, this school. And you’d be able to venture out into the Forbidden forest as you do, without me having to turn a blind eye to it anymore.” You grinned into the flames in his hearth. Getting slightly more comfortable by crossing your legs you let the warmth seep into your skin.

“I still don’t feel like shopkeeping, though.”

—

You and Samantha made it inside the Transfiguration classroom just as professor Weasley went to close the door. You were out of breath and red like salamanders, both from the running and the cold outside.

“Girls, girls,” chided professor Weasley, “I would expect punctuality in your seventh year.” “It’s my fault, professor,” you panted out, “I overslept. Samantha would’ve been here long ago if it wasn’t for me.” Professor Weasley shook her head and motioned the two of you to sit.

—

“I cannot wait to visit Matabeleland again,” said Natty with a smile. You knew she had her reasons to not want to go where her father died defending her before, but now that she made peace with her past and was officially an adult, she wanted to revisit her happier childhood memories. “Me and gran are going to Arizona. We’re hoping to encounter Thunderbirds there,” spoke Poppy then, “What about you, what will you be doing?”

You looked up at the sky and smiled. “Actually, I think I’ll stay at Hogwarts. I really took on a lot of work this year, and I’d like to focus on it in peace.” It was only partly true. The main reason was that you wanted to spend as much time as possible with your favourite professor. Unbeknownst to your friends, the bag you carried on your shoulder contained a neatly wrapped Christmas present (a beautiful set of drawing kohls), a bottle of firewhiskey said to be absolutely brilliant (courtesy of Sirona) and a very special letter you were hoping to present to your teacher on Christmas Eve.

You came to see Hogwarts as your home. You were able to wander through the highlands for hours at a time, exploring every nook and cranny. If someone were to use Prior Incantato on your wand at any given time, the last spell would most likely be Revelio. Now that your time as a student was slowly coming to an end, you realised just how much you’d miss being here. In a way, you were envious of those who got to attend the full seven years. Your solace was knowing that you wouldn’t ever be too far from your home.

There was no without.

—

“Good evening, professor,” you beamed at the scarred man. He smiled back and stepped aside from the door, a wordless invitation. You took him in appreciatively. It wasn’t often you’d see the potions master so dressed down, cladded only in his white shirt, vest and trousers. His tie was loosened, jacket and coat hanging by the door in the other room.

You fished the present out of your bag. “This is for you to unwrap tomorrow,” you said, settling it aside on a nearby table, “but I see no reason we shouldn’t try this out right now.” He grinned at the sight of the bottle of obviously very expensive liquor. “Hope nobody saw you smuggle this in. It’s alright to have a glass in Diagon Alley, outside of term. Here however, I believe this would get you into all sorts of trouble with the deputy headmistress,” his voice was teasing and he was already fetching two glasses. “It’s Christmas holidays, we are out of term. We just so happen to be in the castle,” you quipped back.

You held the glasses while he poured. “Well, miss (L/N)... (F/N). All the best for the rest of your time in Hogwarts, and even better for your next adventure. Wherever it may take you. I am glad to have met you, and proud to be your teacher. And your friend.” You didn’t call him out on the ‘friend’ part just yet, choosing to take a sip of your drink instead.

You immediately made a face and began coughing.

Aesop stood before you, chuckling. “Wow,” you said once you caught your breath, “that’s horrible.” The potions master’s chuckles turned into laughter. “Luckily for you,” he said after you made a show of pushing your glass towards him along with the rest of the bottle, “I think of everything.” A bottle of some floral wine entered your vision, uncorked itself and poured a sensible amount into a conjured up goblet. You drank, rolling the light liquid over your tongue.

“Fixed your taste?” asked Sharp, still smirking. You nodded: “I no longer feel like I’m about to die, so that’s good. Anyway, there’s one more thing I wanted to show you.” You walked over to the armchairs in front of the hearth. Professor Sharp followed and sat across from you. You held a scroll in your right hand and offered it to him.

Aesop put his glass down and reached for the scroll curiously. Unrolling it, he read out loud:

Brood and Peck

Hogsmeade

Dear Miss (F/N) (L/N),

We are pleased to inform you that you were admitted to apprenticeship at Brood and Peck, Hogsmeade, beginning on 3rd July 1893 at 8 o’clock in the morning.

All equipment necessary for your apprenticeship will be provided for you on the spot.

We are looking forward to our cooperation.

Yours sincerely,

Ellie Peck

Aesop Sharp was looking at you wide-eyed. “I thought about what you said, about the DADA position,” you said, your cheeks turning red under his intense gaze. “I thought… I thought you said you didn’t see yourself in a shop,” he said, still in a daze. “That’s the best thing,’ you smiled at him, “I won’t be in a shop. I’ll be rescuing beasts and taking care of them, collecting byproducts and bringing them to Ellie. I also made a deal with Pippin to bring him any useful potion ingredients I find.

“I’ll have a bit of money and I’ll be close by. And I’ll be running around the highlands most of the time, which is pretty much exactly what I do now, except without the schoolwork,” you chuckled. Aesop’s expression was unreadable. “What made you decide to stay?” he asked finally, his voice so quiet you barely heard it over the crackling fire. There was the moment, the moment of truth you’ve been waiting for. You gathered your courage.

“There were a lot of reasons. But the biggest one is… you. The more I thought of it, the more the mere idea I’d be somewhere far away from you, unable to see you maybe months at a time, terrifies me. Saddens me.” You sighed then. “What I’m trying to say… I am in love with you, and have been for some time, and I’d like to be close to you. If you’ll have me.”

Professor Sharp’s eyes were glistening. He said nothing for the longest time and you were getting worried.

“Please, professor, think of my words before you refuse me. I know that I am young, but I am of age and I know what I want in life. It’s not just some silly crush, I genuinely believe we could… that we could spend our lives together. You are possibly my best friend, the person I trust and admire most, and I adore you. I think of you all the time, and there’s nothing I want more than to be able to hold you, and kiss you. And be the woman you love. I love you, sir.”

He stood up with such swiftness you startled. Almost as if his leg did not trouble him in the slightest. The potions master extended his hands to you and you took them, standing up as well. He still stood taller than you and you had to look up to see into his eyes. One hand came to rest on your cheek and you unconsciously leaned into it, closing your eyes in bliss as his scent filled your nostrils.

“Aesop,” he said suddenly. “I’m sorry?” you replied, slightly dazed to have him touching you so tenderly. “I should have asked you to call me Aesop ages ago,” he explained, his other hand coming to hold your other cheek, “my dearest girl.”

He felt free, free of guilt and shame, the constant pain of his wounds falling somewhere into the background. He wouldn’t allow it to interfere with this moment. Those three words he craved to hear from you fell freely from your lips. Your eyes were blown wide and he found he could no longer resist them.

A sound made him look up. Above your bodies joined in an embrace a twig of mistletoe appeared. Hogwarts and its secrets…. “There is nothing I’d want more than to have you by my side,” he spoke quietly, the words foreign to his lips before now, but filled with utmost honesty nevertheless.

You weren’t able to wait any longer. Mirroring the teacher, you grabbed his face gently and guided him down until your lips connected. It felt like the most ancient, the purest form of magic, coursing through you as you tasted Aesop’s mouth. The alcohol was foul when drunk from glass, but on the potions master’s tongue it tasted like ambrosia, getting you more drunk than you’ve ever been, and you moaned into the kiss.

The world turned into sensations. Your fingers in his hair, his teeth squeezing your lower lip, before soothing the sting with his tongue. The solid, warm front of his body pressing into yours, his heart beating wildly against your breasts. The arms you’ve dreamed about enveloped you crushingly and you realised that you never wanted to leave them. Why would you? You were home.

You were home.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed reading. You can find this work and all of my other works on AO3. I always adore feedback!

#hogwarts #hogwarts legacy #aesop sharp #professor sharp #aesop sharp x reader #proessor sharp x reader #aesop sharp x you #professor sharp x you #fanfiction #reader insert #i love the magic cop #fluff

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feyhunter78 · 4 months ago

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ms girl I'm begging you to be added to you tag list for the jon snow fic cause I can't keep maniacally scrolling every 2 days this is very very serious.

thank you.

I'll add you to the taglist, but I also thought I'd reward your patience with a little chapter delivery!

Chapter Seventeen - Within the war camp of the Starks and Tullys you find yourself facing your family in different ways. CH 18

You try not to laugh as you watch Margaery smooth down her skirts, Robb’s tunic laces strung back up incorrectly, hanging uneven as he addresses his men.

“Tyrion Lannister has responded quickly, as we expected, considering we have his children and grandchildren.” Robb says, letting your grandsire’s letter be passed around among his bannermen. “He will meet us in the fields outside Bitterbridge and asks that we list our demands so that he might decide if they are worth considering.”

“Does he truly believe he has any leverage? My entire family is here.” You whisper to Jon, feeling a pang of guilt for not immediately inquiring after the health of your family. You have been so preoccupied with Jon, with sticking to him in order to avoid the harsh stares, the whispers that circulated throughout the camp. True you may have Jon’s heart, and Robb liked you well enough but their men? They did not trust you; you remained a lion at the side of a wolf, and it will serve you well to remember that.

“You know your grandsire; he will not give in so easily.” Jon whispers back, his eyes on Robb.

Robb continues, his voice gaining in volume, in confidence. “We know our terms men, the throne for Stannis Baratheon, more bodies for the wall, the annulment of Queen Margaery’s marriage—”

“And enough Redwyne wine to last us through the winter.” Theon chimes in from his place behind Robb, a tongue-in-cheek smile on his face, his eyes bright with mirth.

“Aye, enough drink to warm us while it snows.” A Northman you do not recognize says.

“And perhaps some pretty Southron wives too.” Someone else calls, as laughter begins to roll through the crowd.

Margaery laughs, and it sounds like bells, clear and pure, all eyes shift to her. “While I cannot speak for every woman of the south… I can say that I have found myself quite content with my Northman, and I am sure many others will feel the same once they are rescued from their soft willed and greedy husbands.”

A cheer rises at her words, and you find yourself biting your tongue to keep from laughing once more. Only Margaery can make possible bride kidnapping sound like a heroic deed. Though you guess you cannot blame her, nor would you blame any women that left the South for the North. If you were married to one of those lazy, greedy lords who spent all day chasing after servant girls and squandering away his gold, you would rush into the arms of the nearest Northman as well.

Even though Robb had dismissed everyone hours ago, their cheers still ring faintly in your ears as you walk towards the constructed cells that held your aunt and uncle. They were less cells but cages, bars of iron stuck into the ground, a metal sheet hammered atop for a roof. You had not wanted your aunt and uncle put in these things. They were people, not animals, but you know your presence in the camp is still a precarious one. You are still a Lannister, still an enemy of the North, and your voice is not one they wish to hear.

Tommen and your father have been put in a tent, of course. Your father had helped organize this entire plan and no one truly thought Tommen would run, he was still a boy, but your aunt and uncle? Perhaps your aunt would not run if she were alone, but with your Uncle Jamie by her side? Anything was possible.

Your aunt and uncle look up when they hear your footsteps, both dirtied and tired, the smell of smoke clinging to them.

Your aunt’s eyes are wildfire, the heat directed at you, while your uncle’s eyes are dull swamp water, and downcast. “How could you do this to us?” She spits, rising to her feet when you approach.

“I did not, I had no idea, you must voice your complaints to my father.” You tell her, handing her and your uncle bowls of oatmeal.

Your uncle takes it quietly, giving you a nod of thanks, but your aunt slaps it from your hands, the mushy oats splattering across the ground and the hem of your gown. “Tell your snake of a father I will not be given gruel and locked up as if I were a common criminal. I am the Dowager Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.”

“I will tell him, but I cannot promise much, he is sitting on Lord Robb’s war council at the moment, preparing for Grandsire’s arrival.” You say airily, trying not to look at your uncle, trying not to see the defeat and acceptance in his eyes.

“War council? That boy truly thinks he will defeat our father? You disappoint me, niece; you have squandered my lessons.” Your aunt says, her arms crossed over her chest, her head held high, even in a cage she still looks every inch a queen. “Pray to the Seven that your grandsire will be merciful and send you off to become a septa instead of taking your head.”

“Cersei…” Your uncle says quietly, leaning his head back against the bars of his cage.

“I will pray that King Stannis grants you mercy.” You tell her, collecting the bowl and spoon from the ground before turning on your heel, a mountain of guilt ever-growing in your heart.

As you walk back to the kitchen tent you spot Ser Arthur, he is polishing his sword, his eyes drifting in the direction of the cells every so often.

“My uncle spoke very highly of you.” You say once you get closer. You do not know what he had said to your uncle that day he claimed Jon in court, but it had struck him to his core. “He wished to be you, to live up to the standard you set.”

“I know.” Ser Arthur says softly, a frown etched into his weathered face, his hand stilling in its task. “I told him the truth, the whole of it, and in return he told me why he had done it, of the wildfire beneath the city. I have told Lord Robb; he will write to King Stannis and inform him of the danger.”

You are still holding your aunt’s rejected bowl, your grip on it tightening at his words. Your uncle had only once told you the story, you were young, and he was deep in his cups, the words spilling out like water. You wanted to tell everyone of his brave actions, to erase the title Kingslayer from his name, but he forbid you, said it did not matter now.

“He is better than me, surpassed the standard I set, he had always been rebellious, or we thought him rebellious. We did not see it was a conscious he possesses not a nasty streak of near insubordination.” Ser Arthur sighs.

“He hated it, standing guard while two kings raped their queens, it would have been three if Joffrey had lived, I do not know if he could have survived three.” You admit quietly, scanning your surroundings.

It is early morning, the sun still rising, the birds still waking, the breeze slightly cool but ever warming. There is dew on the grass, and in the quiet stillness you look at Ser Arthur. He is soon to be your good-father, you have grown up hearing tales of his greatness, but in this moment he is nothing but the man who failed your uncle. The man followed his oath to a mad prince so blindly he could not see the bodies left in his wake, and could not muster the courage to flee, to take Lady Lyanna somewhere safe. You know he is Jon’s father, that his acknowledgement of Jon, his affection for him has made your sworn sword happy beyond words, but you would trade Ser Arthur for your uncle in a heartbeat. Your Uncle Jaime is a good man, he saved millions. Defended you, protected you, even now as he sits in a cage, he has not lost his honor, has not spat cruel words at you for your part in this scheme.

“My uncle is a good man; he does not deserve to die.” You whisper, hoping the wind will take your words before anyone else hears them.

Ser Arthur stares at his sword, his eyes reflected in the metal. “I will ask the king to send him to The Wall, I cannot see Ser Jaime lose his head, not when he saved the whole of King’s Landing. I trained that boy, he was five and ten when he came to us, I watched him become a man with great honor, I know he has been tainted, manipulated by your aunt, but he is not beyond saving.” He says, beginning to polish his sword once more.

You nod, but do not let your hopes rise.

Your father and cousin sit playing cyvasse in your father’s tent, the entrance watched by two Stark guards, who give you a cautious look but allow you entry. Your father’s tent is large, not as large as Robb’s but more than enough for him and Tommen. Furs are laid out on two cots pushed in the far corner, a small table and a few chairs sit in the middle with a large chest set against one wall of the tent. A fire pit has been dug, a low flame within to heat the tent.

Tommen looks up at your approach, his eyes rimmed with red. “Cousin.”

“Cousin.” You echo, taking a seat between them.

“If I am to die, will you ensure Ser Pounce, and Lady Whiskers are looked after?” Tommen asks, his voice shaky, his eyes on the gameboard.

Your heart leaps into your throat, and you grip the edge of the table, glancing at your father. “You will not die; you are a child.”

Tommen nods and wipes at his eyes with his sleeve. “That is what your father said too, but I wished to hear it from someone the Starks truly trust.”

Your father looks away, and you can spot tears forming in his eyes as he stands. “I must go and meet with Lord Robb; I will return for dinner.”

He makes a hasty exit, leaving you and Tommen at the table, the silence only broken by Tommen’s soft sniffles.

“You will not die; I will beg the king on my knees for your life if need be.” You tell him, taking his hands between yours. Besides your father, Tommen is all the family you have left, Myrcella is in Dorne, and your aunt and uncle will likely be killed. Your grandsire will surely be killed as well, if not imprisoned or sent to the Wall for the rest of his life.

“What will happen to me?” He asks.

You curse your father for his quick escape, it should be him who explains all this to Tommen, why is it left to you? Because Tommen trusts you, he finds you far more comforting than I. You can already hear your father’s explanation in your head.

Reaching out to brush away a few stray tears for his cheeks, you lay out your plan. “I will advocate for you to join Lord Stark in Winterfell as a ward, I do not expect it to be allowed, so my next suggestion will be for you to become a septon or a maester in the Citadel.”

“But they will hate me in Winterfell.”

“No, no, you will find happiness there, Bran and Rickon are near your age, and the Starks are good, honorable people, they understand you are not to blame.” You reassure him, squeezing his hands tightly.

“What about Margaery, what will happen to her?” Tommen sniffles.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Margaery will be marrying Lord Robb, to help secure peace.”

“They are a similar age; she will be happier with someone who likes what she does.” Tommen sounds almost relieved by the news, then his bottom lip begins to tremble, and his shoulders slump. “What if he hits her, like father or Joffrey? I saw father hit mother, I saw Joffrey hit you and Myrcella simply for speaking your thoughts aloud. Margaery has many thoughts, and she enjoys voicing them. What if Lord Robb does not like that?”

You squeeze his hands again and give him a soft smile, your heartbreaking at the thought of Tommen seeing what you, your aunt, and Myrcella had tried so hard to hide from him. “He will not, Lord Robb finds everything she says interesting, and if he does then I am sure one of his sisters will make him pay. They do not tolerate such things; you will see when you go to meet them.”

Tommen nods but does not relinquish your hand. “Will you come visit me in Winterfell?”

“Of course, Tommen, I will come see you in Winterfell then I will go see Uncle Jamie at the wall and then when I return, I will stop by and see you once more. Perhaps I will even be able to bring Myrcella.”

He smiles, it is slow to spread across his face, and it is watery, but it is still a smile. “I would like that.”

TL: @mostclevermiss, @solacestyles, @2valentines, @sharknutz, @idohknow, @bdudette, @pluraldoggo, @legolastheleafyelf, @faerie-film, @wifiatthetrainstation, @duskypinki, @tartine-de-pain, @rebeccawinters, @taylorsfemalerage, @rax-raxus, @certainwonderlandperfection, @designatedramaiver

#meg's writing #jon snow x you #jon snow x reader #jon snow x y/n #lannister!reader #Jon Dayne #jon snow imagines #more Tommen feels bc his life is so sad to me

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