#sincerely aesop

[zevexsii]

My semester finally ended, so I'm free to write for a while! Right now I'm very hyperfixated on ACTSV, so this blog won't be spoiler free and I'm willing to write for all characters (only nsfw for those 18+ obvs)!

[rileyslibrary]

Meal, Under-the-Stars

Summary: Simon’s inability to show affection irritates you. Until Valentine’s Day arrives.

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Word Count: 1,360

Notes:

angst/fluff

*sighs* it’s almost Valentine’s so *gestures aggressively at the fic*

i made sure it’s the least amount of cringe, pinky promise

Want more?

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You collapse in your bus seat, travelling home after another long day at the office. The chair feels too stiff, and the ride is too bumpy. That’s what you get for missing your bus and taking a different route. Damn it. Your neck is tense from the hours of hunching over the computer, and a pulsing pain has settled behind your eyes, threatening to rip your skull apart. As if your physical agony wasn’t enough, the bus’s noises aren’t helping. Without your headphones, you’re left to suffer in silence and listen to the people around you.

The two women in front of you talk nonstop about their upcoming Valentine’s Day plans. The first, with a smug look, reveals how her boyfriend has planned a romantic getaway to Europe. You can almost hear the silent “aren’t I lucky?” that hovers at the end of her sentence. Her friend humbly brags back about her partner taking her to a jewellery store where she can pick out whatever she wants. You suppress a groan and roll your eyes instead.

You turn to your left. Your attention is drawn to a man whose face is concealed by a towering bouquet of flowers. The sight of him and the enormous gift next to him makes you wonder. Could it be chocolates? The package seems too bulky for that. Lingerie maybe? It looks too heavy for delicate lace. Perhaps it contains the embodiment of his love for his significant other, ripped from his soul and transformed into a tangible form, you ponder sarcastically.

The image of Capitalism, dressed in a three-piece tailored suit and hat, sitting on a throne made of kitschy teddy bears, comes to mind. He sips a glass of wine made from rose petals and sneers at the spectacle before him: people spending their hard-earned money on unnecessary gifts and experiences, all in the name of love. When did a simple and sincere “I love you” become insufficient? When did it become necessary to spend a fortune on extravagant trips, sparkling diamonds, and wrapped boxes filled with empty promises? Did your grandparents go to such lengths to express their affection, or is this just the plague of your generation?

And why does this all bother you so much? Could it be that Simon’s inability to express his affection for you is causing your bitterness? You recall Aesop’s fable about the fox and the grapes. Like the fox, you cannot grasp what you want, so you try to convince yourself that what others have is, like the grapes, sour. Admit it: you’re envious of those who are happily celebrating Valentine’s Day, surrounded by love and affection, while you’re on your way home to a strained relationship, where love is shown through practical acts like fixing the thermostat or reminding you to take an umbrella on a potentially rainy day.

You knew he was reserved and guarded the moment you met him. “A mystery wrapped in a balaclava”, you used to jokingly call him. It took months of building rapport and earning his trust before he finally revealed his face to you. But, despite this, you find yourself wanting more. Wasn’t this enough? Get a grip, sweetheart; Valentine’s Day is for the rest of the world, not you two.

As the bus pulls to a stop, you rise from your seat and step off, feeling heavy and reluctant as you make your way home. The weight of your expectations slows your pace as if you are afraid to face reality—that the love you seek may not be the love he is capable of giving...

You reach the front steps, the cool metal of the key turning in your hand as you unlock the door. You push it open, the emptiness inside greeting you like an old friend. Something on the floor catches your attention; military bags and tactical gear are neatly arranged near the entrance. You look across the kitchen table to see a map with checkmarks on it. Has he been summoned for a mission and forgotten to tell you? No, it cannot be; this is far worse than you expected.

As you make your way down the hall, the noise coming from the bedroom fills the silence. The door is slightly ajar, and you push it open to find him standing before you, freshly showered and wrapped in a crisp white towel from the waist down. Droplets of water cling to his damp hair, with strands hanging over his forehead. His towering stature is imposing, his muscles resembling those of a Greek statue carved by a master artist. Like faded memories of battles fought, scars are dotted across his body, each telling a tale of modern warfare.

He smirks as you enter the room, but you can’t help the flare of anger that rises within you.

“You’re late,” he says, continuing to dry himself.

How dare he.

“Traffic,” you respond, trying to steady your voice. “Where are you going?”

“We are going,” he corrects you nonchalantly.

Huh?!

“W-we?” you stammer. “Simon, where are we going?”

“Out,” he says with a smirk.

You frown at him. You’re exhausted—tired of work, tired of the long trip back home, tired of his mysterious demeanour. You need answers—complete, coherent, straightforward answers—and you need them fast. Now.

“Care to explain further, Simon?” you ask, trying to compose yourself.

“We're going camping,” he says as he starts putting on his gear.

Your heartbeat quickens. Suddenly the grapes are not sour anymore. They seem sweet again.

“So, camping, huh?” you ask with a cheeky grin. “Why?”

“Don’t make me say it,” he says sternly. “I’ve seen enough atrocities to know what today is.”

“You never struck me as the romantic sort, Mr Riley,” you reply.

“Oh, but I am romantic, my love,” he corrects you. “Just not the cliché type.”

But, of course! That’s why you fell for him in the first place. He’s not your typical guy. He may not serenade you, but he’ll fix things with his own hands. And he won’t kneel on one leg to recite poetry, but he’ll ensure you’re warm, safe, and fed.

Fed. Food. Did he think about food?

“I’ll prepare something quick to take with us,” you tell him.

“No need to,” he replies. “I’ve prepared an outstanding variety of MREs for us.”

What a guy.

“What about me?” you ask pointing at his gear. “I don’t have the appropriate clothing for this.”

He looks amused. “That’s weird,” he comments. “I’m sure I saw something at the entrance earlier today.”

You stare at him, confused, dash to the front door, and inspect the gear you saw earlier. To your surprise, it’s all your size.

You slip into the gear, feeling its weight and texture against your skin. The material is rugged yet flexible, allowing you to move easily. You run your hand over the pockets, checking to ensure everything is in place, before returning to the bedroom.

As you enter, Simon looks up from his bag, and his gaze travels down your form. You stand tall and proud; sure, you’re still tired and in pain, but at least you’re happy. You twirl for him to get a better look.

He nods his approval with a smile. “You look like a proper camper,” he says jokingly. “I had no idea you had it in you.”

“Come on, Simon!” You shout, fists clenching at your sides as you stand in the doorway. “It’s Valentine’s Day,” you implore, your voice growing softer. “At least say something nice.”

He regards you, his lips curling upward in amusement. “Alright, alright,” he says, holding up his hands in surrender. “You want something nice?” He asks, and you nod, smiling.

“You got it.” He steps closer, towering over you, and gazes down with warm and tender eyes. “You look beautiful,” he says. “Absolutely stunning.”

———————————————————————

[valy-gc]

Gael Lumespring

Age: 192 (~19 for faes)

Year: 4

Class & Seat: 4-C, Seat 2

Race: Fae (Dragon)

Resonance: The Stag (The Stag and His Reflection, Aesop)

Legacy Arte: Reflected Truth – Gael can create shimmering mirrors that show the inner form of who or whatever reflect in it.

Homeland: Myrcadawn

Best Subject: Lorecraft

Height: 190 cm

Hobby: Carving wooden figures

Like: Integrity

Dislike: Vanity

Club: Exploration Club

Personality: Gael thrives in helping others confront their flaws and realize their strengths, offering thoughtful guidance and encouragement. He often ponders the deeper meaning of events and his place in the world, sometimes to the point of overthinking. While outwardly composed, Gael harbors insecurities about his worth and decisions. Gael detests shallow pride and strives to see beyond surface appearances. Gael has an uncanny ability to understand others’ struggles and offer sincere, tailored advice. Though young for a fae, Gael exhibits maturity and depth of understanding that make him a respected figure among peers. His carvings are not just hobbies but meaningful representations of his thoughtful nature, often gifted to those he values. While he’s excellent at helping others open up, Gael struggles to reveal his own vulnerabilities, often keeping his emotions locked away. Gael’s disdain for vanity can sometimes make him overly judgmental of those who prioritize appearances or superficial success.

Gift: A polished mirror or a random wooden stick he can carve in

More infos

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

[avinwrites]

Mending Hearts♡ ♡ ♡

Synopsis: How you comfort them through both physical and emotional turmoil.

Aesop Carl

It isn’t that you don’t get along with Aesop; all things considered, you have the best relationship with him out of anyone. Sometimes, however, he is simply indecipherable. Most days, you can tell how he feels from his expressive body language, despite his inscrutable face, and communicate with him clearly, but on the days where something is off, it is quite difficult to get through to him. You know that the key to any good relationship is communication, but it’s hard and it takes a lot of courage on your part just to talk about the things that bother you. He never seems to understand that.

At the current moment, he hasn’t talked to you in two days, and your last interaction consisted of you attempting to console him after some particularly unkind words were said to him regarding his performance during a recent match.

“You sound just like them.” His voice has a cold and distant sound to it, reaching your ears with a harsh bite.

“What?” You can’t help but gasp in shock, his words hitting hard, having just been in a tender moment. 

“Your words have no meaning behind them, it's all noise.” 

"I know that my words may not seem like much right now, but I want you to know that I care about you." You listen to your voice, trying to place yourself in his shoes, but you just can’t. You’ve been there for him practically since you met him, and you know he’s having a hard time, but how can he say that? You can hear the sincerity in your tone, you know how it's supposed to sound. But he doesn’t get it. 

“Leave me alone.” 

“Aesop-” You try once more to negotiate a balance or some way that you don’t have to end the conversation with both sides unhappy. He wouldn’t allow it.

“I need space right now.” He forces out, gruff, though his voice still soft and low. 

“That's… fine, just let me know when you’re ready to talk.” Resigned, you walk away, giving him the space he desires, but nothing more than that.

That “space” has persisted for days, and this time, you weren’t going to be the one to apologize, or even speak first. You always do and it’s hard. If he isn’t willing to give a little effort, then… you hate thinking about it, that if he won’t speak to you then anything you could’ve had would be over. All the good moments, being happy with him, hearing his infrequent, yet impactful laughs, it will have meant nothing. The fact that he was giving you the silent treatment, even though you weren’t sure if he was even aware of it, made you want to cave. But this time, you held your ground. After a while, you began to feel childish. You wanted to move past this and to forget the conversation ever happened, but what would you even say to him? He asked for space and you provided, and now you were just going to ignore that for the sake of not wanting to be uncomfortable. What kind of a person would that make you? Now it’s immature both to not say anything, and to talk to him. The situation confuses and frustrates you, and all you really want is a little bit of comfort, just a single word of encouragement from him would solve your inner turmoil, but you’re in the midst of a silent treatment, so you can’t even get that. 

You decide it's best to move on and think about something else. This shouldn’t affect you this much, and yet, the situation stays in the forefront of your mind. The days drifted by, blurring together in indistinct monotony, and still, the silence lingered between you and Aesop. It was a heavy weight on your heart, a constant reminder of the distance growing between you. You found yourself going through the motions of daily life, but your mind was consumed by thoughts of him. It was hard to focus on anything else when the person you cared about most was shutting you out. You forced your mind to think about anything else, in fact, having thrown your entire person into distracting yourself, you seemed to improve in your game performance, and yet, you could not help but wander back through your thoughts to Aesop, and a pang of sadness would wash over you. 

It hurt. Claws as sharp as the last words he spoke to you dug deep into your chest, gripping your bleeding heart. You miss his presence, his infrequent bouts of laughter that never failed to make your heart skip a beat, his unique way of seeing the world. You missed the connection you had, the feeling of being understood and accepted, and most of all, you missed the way he made you feel loved, cherished, and appreciated, like you could be yourself, no matter what.

And when you finally see him again, after shielding his face from you for days, he looks as bad as you feel. Sunken in eyes with the beginnings of dark wrinkles under them. His posture is worse than before, and he seems just out of touch enough with reality to not even notice that you sidled up to him.

“You look rough.” You comment, giving him a weak smile and holding out your hand as somewhat of a peace treaty, letting him know that you aren’t mad at him, and you would like to comfort him again, if he were to accept it. 

“I’m so sorry.” He whispers, so quiet you can barely hear it. No one else is around; you still hold yourself back from pulling him into a tight, longing hug. 

“You don’t have to apologize, I understand.” It isn’t long before your unsaid desires are fulfilled as he deliberately closes the gap between you and places his tired head on your shoulder, pulling you into a tender embrace. “Are you alright?” You can’t help but question. These acts of affection aren’t unheard of from him, but certainly aren’t common. 

“I wish to be by your side, I’m sorry for pushing you away. Everything feels… better when you’re with me.”

You only hum in agreement in response, keeping him close to you until he decides he’s ready to break contact, but from the way it feels, that won’t be for a long time.

Luca Balsa

The great inventor Luca Balsa had admitted something to you not too long ago. He told you that he enjoys your presence and that being around you comforts him. He gave you his heartfelt confession, and you reciprocated. To you, this was the obvious outcome to your rapidly developing bond. Since the beginning, the two of you got along like a forest fire, mirroring each other’s exuberance and empathizing with each other at each nadir. Despite all you had already been through together, those experiences only reached the surface of what was to come.

Luca warned you a few times of his unpredictable changes in behavior due to his injury. You really didn’t understand what he meant, as you witnessed his mood swings before, and he had never been violent or even the slightest bit rude to you, but you nodded along each time, promising not to abandon him and to stay by his side through thick and thin. 

This morning, after noticing that Luca was not eating breakfast with the rest as usual, you made your way to his room to check on him. Once, he had asked you not to step foot in his room, and since then you had adhered to this request, and you’ve never seen the inside. Diligently, you knock on his door, announcing that you were here to ensure his well-being. All you got was a groan in response. 

“Luca, are you alright? Can I come in?” You pry, pushing yourself against the door to hear the other side.

“No, no I’ll be there in a second.” You heard his weary voice call. A soft thump then a louder one rumbles the door, before Luca, disoriented, stumbles out. He did not look good. His usually ruffled brown hair was a mess, as if he had been gripping his hair, it stuck out in certain places. His eyes were puffy, and his scared one almost completely shut. 

“Luca, you look horrible, please go lay down. I’ll bring you-” 

“No, I’m fine!” His frantic voice and waving hands cut you off. You waited. He took a step, then lowered his head into his hands, grasping at his temples and groaning softly.

“You are not fine.” You respond simply, taking his hands in yours. You gently push open his door to lead him to bed and you're struck with speechlessness at the sight of his room. Papers, tools and trinkets littered everywhere. Some torn paper stuck up with illegible writings scrawled half on the paper and half on the wall. His bed was unmade and there were a few dents and scratches all over his walls. When you come face to face with the words “Do not forget” written over and over, you realize why he never let you in his room.  

You could have forgotten he was next to you, too distracted by the state of his room, but his shudders and reactions to pain called your attention back to him, who now clings to your legs as he stabilizes himself to sit on the floor. 

“Come here, Luca.” You whisper, kneeling to his level and taking his head in your hands, brushing his hair back with your fingers, and putting a light, circular pressure on his temples. He leans into you, unable to hold back his rolling tears from his physical and mental distress. Unable to form any response for his harsh, quick breaths, he welcomes your comfort with a strong grip, beginning to sob into your shoulder. You do your best to help him, whispering sweet words to him and hoping your feather-light touch alleviates some of his pain. 

After a long moment, his breathing evens and grip loosens. You remove his face from its place, nestled in your shoulder, and wipe his remaining tears with the tip of your thumb. Neither of you move. You only hold his face, searching his eyes for further signs of discomfort, as he looks straight into your eyes, seemingly more relaxed with each passing second. Only soft breaths and subtle shifts can be heard between you, taking time to just be comforted by each other’s presence. 

Luca then presented you with the unexpected. A smile. Though weak and lopsided, his toothy grin shone through the darkness clouding his head.

“Thank you.” He whispers, pulling you into a tight embrace. Wordlessly, you hug him back. No words were needed to convey your inner feelings. You’d be here for him, always. And you knew that the same was true for him. Like you were made to support each other, the two of you sat in silence, knowing each other’s heart and accepting each other, flaws and all.

Sometimes I just want a hug

Anyways, I had the idea for 2 more characters, where this time they're the ones comforting the reader, but I couldn't make anything stick! I'll keep working on it though <3

[aesopsharpmybeloved]

A Lesson In Sensuality

After receiving a very sensual letter from you, Aesop Sharp indulges in some solitary fun.

I would be lost without my brilliant consultant @tea-withjamandbread ❤️

This work has it's own illustration made by yours truly. Link for the full uncensored piece will be at the bottom of the post.

18+ GO AWAY CHILDREN!

A Lesson In Sensuality (3k words)

tw: explicit, female masturbation (mentioned), male masturbation, vaginal sex (mentioned), teacher-student relationship (reader is an adult)

When he saw that kittenish little grin on her face as he accepted her essay, Aesop Sharp knew she wasn’t only handing him her 16 inches of mandrakes' uses in potions, but that there was also something else included in the neatly folded parchment. Their hands touched momentarily as he took a hold of the parchment, and a tiny spark flickered in their intense gazes. Aesop had a hard time stopping a smile from breaking out on his scarred face.

It felt like forever since they last managed to exchange more than a few quick heated kisses and hushed soft words, and therefore this tiny moment was enough to make Aesop’s heart pound in his chest. Her cheeks reddened as she gave him one last little smile and a nod before leaving his classroom in a flurry of robes.

After the last of his seventh year students left, he decided to use the little bit of free time he had to improve his mood slightly by reading the clandestine note undoubtedly hidden within the otherwise normal looking essay. It wasn’t the first time she wrote him a little love letter, and Aesop himself made sure to always repay her in kind. 

Now, however, as he unfolded the parchment, he immediately saw that hidden among the no doubt Outstanding essay was no little letter. It was possibly even longer than the essay itself! Curiously, Aesop noticed that the text seemed to alter throughout - the letter began with his sweetheart’s neat script, but was at a certain point replaced by what he recognised as the basic Self-writing Quill font. And then, almost at the very end, her own handwriting appeared once more.

He brought the letter up to his nose, happy to find it lightly smelling of her perfume, and he saw its back was signed by the outline of her plush lips in a lovely shade of light lip rouge. His fingers slid across the smooth material of the letter. Aesop began reading.

My dearest Aesop,

Sweet Merlin, it feels so horribly long ago, an eternity almost, since I last had the utmost luck and pleasure to spend an evening in your company... In your wonderful arms, so strong and steady, shielding me from all the bad in the world, warming me up when all around me has turned to ice, and holding me upright, when I feel like I cannot stand on my own. 

The potions master smiled, his cheeks slightly warmer than they were before as he rested his chin on his hand. Cheeky little thing, she was beginning on a very poetic note indeed, and it made him strangely giddy to be the reason she chose to use such language.

How I long to be with you right now, to look into your ethereal eyes, dark and intense, like the mouth of a volcano, but so kind and sincere, like those of a majestic stag.

Your mouth... Heavens, your mouth. Each and every kiss you gift me with feels like a healing touch to my very soul. Your taste, so deep and rich and complex, so absolutely addictive. I could go days without eating or drinking, and I would not feel any hunger or thirst, your lips on mine enough.

Oh, by Salazar…He chuckled. She was being a bit dramatic, wasn’t she? However, Aesop couldn’t deny the way his heart was beating with all the intensity of a war drum as he drank in her beautiful words, the way she described him. The professor might’ve considered himself fairly handsome once, long before he became a professor, but not after what happened on that godforsaken boat. However, he never would've thought to be described like this… He was a little uncertain whether he was deserving of praise this high.

Aesop felt something inside him fluttering as he read her letter to him, the way she explained what she found beautiful about him was slightly on the dramatic side maybe, but goodness if it didn't feel good.

Your hands, your blessed hands, they dance when you brew, when you write. You are a virtuoso, my love. So strong and yet so soft, I go weak in the knees every time you take a hold of my face, every time you guide it to your own, everytime your wonderful fingers glide about the skin of my cheeks... 

Every time you caress my body with them. When you worship me with them, I feel myself slowly losing my mind. When you touch my breasts, I gasp and sigh for you, my love, because nobody else's touch could ever feel so good. I try to imagine my own hands are yours as I circle my nipples with my fingers, pinch them like you do, as I massage my bosom the same way... It doesn't feel the same, as much as I try to imagine it is you, it just isn't enough... It isn't you. It is you I need, Aesop, you I need to touch me like this, need you to caress me until I am begging for you, until my sighs turn to moans.

Oh… oh, goodnes… It was this kind of letter. Aesop skimmed the following text with his eyes, already feeling his pants get slightly tighter. Just then, however, the door to his classroom opened, and a bored looking fourth year made her way inside, soon followed by her Hufflepuff and Gryffindor classmates.

Aesop never hid a letter inside of his coat faster in his life.

He tried his hardest to stop being just that, willing his body into obedience, even as her words still swam in front of his eyes. Bloody hell… A single slightly more… explicit paragraph, and he was half hard in his underwear, his length obviously more than a little interested in the contents of the letter. 

After a few more minutes spent at his desk while his students readied themselves at their stations, and him mentally cataloguing his private stocks, he felt… relaxed enough to begin the lesson, standing up to write today’s instructions on the blackboard.

The letter seemed to burn inside of his overcoat’s breast pocket, goodness, how he wanted to read what else she wrote, his stomach twisting with excitement. Later, he reminded himself, later when he was alone in the comfort of his chambers, when nobody would come and disturb him. 

Although, there was one person he wished had the time to actually come and disturb him, possibly read her letter to him out loud.

Later, Aesop, concentrate!

—

As soon as his last class that day left, Aesop Sharp hurried to his chambers, his fingers covertly moving to the letter where it was concealed under his overcoat, as if it could have evaporated into thin air during the last few hours. There was some time before supper and he knew he wouldn’t be bothered by anyone. 

In any case, once the door to his rooms closed shut, he cast a locking charm on it, beginning to shed his layers not a second later. He carefully extracted the letter from the confines of his pocket before throwing his overcoat on his bed. His jacket and waistcoat soon followed, his tie was tossed away as if it had been choking him. It had, if Aesop was being honest. Not long after, the potions master was as naked as the day he was born, his manhood already partly filled with his excitement at finally discovering what other lovely things she wrote in the letter.

He sank into the armchair by his bed heavily, his stomach tugging with anticipation as he unfolded the letter again searching where he left off. Oh, yes.

Every time you caress my body with them. When you worship me with them, I feel myself slowly losing my mind. When you touch my breasts, I gasp and sigh for you, my love, because nobody else's touch could ever feel so good. I try to imagine my own hands are yours as I circle my nipples with my fingers, pinch them like you do, as I massage my bosom the same way... It doesn't feel the same, as much as I try to imagine it is you, it just isn't enough... It isn't you. It is you I need, my Aesop, you I need to touch me like this, need you to caress me until I am begging for you, until my sighs turn to moans.

You would then slide your hand lower, as I do right now... Thank goodness for these self writing quills... I know you would be so lovely as you'd stroke at my inner thighs, spreading me gently, your fingers teasing the very place where I want you the most and where you want me. You'd spread my velvety curtains, damp with my exhilaration and drag your long finger along my seam, those beautiful eyes of yours igniting me, setting me on fire from the inside out.

Oh Merlin! So that’s why there is that change of font, she was dictating the letter while she… Goodness. Aesop closed his hand around his now fully erect penis, only squeezing lightly for now as he continued reading, seeing her pushing her own fingers into her tight little cunt in his mind’s eye clear as day, the very imagine making hotness run through him. He pulled his foreskin lower with his fingers, his thumb gliding along the sticky sensitive tip of his prick, spreading the moisture that began to gather there.

And then... And then you'd push your finger inside, finding me so wet and ready for you... Ready as I am right now, but empty, and craving to be filled, twitching, almost sucking your finger in, like it belongs there. You'd masterfully search my hidden crevices, soon finding that place that makes my thighs shake, and my back arch upon the bed. My body in bliss, I loosen up, inviting your other fingers to join in on the fun...

My fingers are so small compared to yours, they don't quite manage to do the job, yet I imagine they're yours anyway, pumping into me, while your thumb rubs along my lovebud, slowly making me mad with need.

And afterwards, once you opened me up enough, more than likely bringing me to my peak in the process, you'd finally, finally enter me, stretching me so much, I feel like I'm going to split in two. The burn is delicious by now, I crave it with every single inch of my feverish body, I crave the way you sigh into my ear once you settle within me fully, your breath hot and damp against my already heated skin. I love the way you press kisses along my neck then, as you wait for me to get used to accommodating your length inside me, your teeth grazing my skin. 

Aesop was slowly moving his hand up and down his shaft, occasionally coming up to squeeze at the bared glans, staring at the words on the parchment, also imagining the little picture his sweetheart painted within her sentences. His rhythm was slow and deep at first, just like the way he’d take her was she here right now. 

Oh, how he wished she was here right now. His hand was damp with the precum leaving his tip in little crystal clear drops. The engorged member throbbed in his hand, appreciative of the attention he was bestowing upon it, but the potions master would have been much happier if it wasn’t his hand bringing him this pleasure, but rather the young woman’s heavenly body.

And then, when you'd begin moving, your hips rutting into my own, our bodies colliding in a union as ancient as time itself, I wish I could stop the world around us, to have us forevermore stuck in this blissful moment. I want to run my fingers through your silky hair, grasp strands of it between them, press my nails against your scalp, until you groan into my skin, sending vibrations through my body, travelling to my very core. And when your need takes hold, and you start taking me, fully taking me, I feel my release approach swiftly, its sweet promise of absolute ecstasy licking up my form like waves of sea, wild and unhinged, and so utterly beautiful.

The way you'd look into my eyes as you'd fill me over and over again, makes me tremble with bliss. You'd be taking me, and you'd be doing so rightfully, taking what's yours, yours, yours, yours only. I would shatter around you, my entire world collapsing and crashing down as I cry your name to the heavens, my nails digging into the wide expanse of your strong back. The sounds of our bodies connecting drive me wild with want.

Aesop’s hand sped up, the words he read having a profound effect on him. He imagined her hands in his hair, on his shoulders and back, imagined the sweet sting of her nails cutting into his flesh. The slapping sound of his own hand tugging at his weeping prick filled his ears, and he was unable to stop the occasional groan and grunt from leaving his lips. Hngh, that little minx, he was going to fuck her until she could barely speak, much less use such enticing language, the next time he got the chance.

The potions master spread his legs wider, pumping himself faster. He was almost tempted to release the parchment from his hand and use both of his hands, one to pull at the now almost painfully hard cock more, the other to play with his testicles, to brush and poke at that one spot behind them, but… but he so desperately wanted to read on, he wanted to read more of those delightfully sinful sentences, the sentences combined with the picture burned into his mind that made the burning coil in his stomach materialise out of nothing, and then begin to burn brighter, grow tighter. 

He groaned again, feeling droplets of sweat form at his hairline, some rolling down his burning cheeks.

He was close, dancing along the edge of bliss. Still, he made his fluttering eyes find another paragraph and read on.

And then... You probably have no idea how beautiful you are, and you probably have no idea just how absolutely breathtaking you get when you're about to plummet down the edge yourself. You are magnificent, like a mighty animal, bared of all inhibitions, thrusting into me with wild abandon, chasing your pleasure in my body. And the moment you peak, the way your eyes flutter and close, that wonderful sound that leaves your lips, 

Oh…

the way your hands grab me in their iron grip, showing the true strength of them,

Oh, hngh!

the way your own back arches as I feel your hotness enter me. You claim me as your own, filling me with your lust, your love, the very essence of you, in a moment of the most primal carnality.

Ah! Mhhhm!

With a deep groan, rope after rope of thick cum shot out of Aesop’s throbbing cock, landing against his chest and clinging to the thick hair there. His hand closed around the letter as he threw his head back, stroking himself through the orgasm hard and fast, until the very last drops wept out of the overstimulated glans, rolling down his foreskin and shaft, some dripping down onto his thigh.

He sat there heavily for several minutes, his hand loosening around his softening prick, still twitching lightly, spent and sensitive, his other hand still gripped at the parchment bearing her words and the ghost of her lips. He enjoyed the deep gratification that was seeping into his now so heavy bones, his head feeling near empty, only his heart searching for the other, the one it beat for. After the potions master regained some control of his higher functions again, he lifted the letter to read the last few paragraphs.

I dread the moment you leave my exhausted, but sated body, but you soothe this dread of mine with your delightful kisses, allowing me to drink from your lips as the world around me rebuilds, as the sounds around us once more come into reality. The proof of what we've done, our still trembling limbs, the sweat upon our cooling bodies, your essence flowing out of me, our breathless words and hot kisses. It's another moment I'd like to freeze, that wonderful afterglow with you and only you.

And even as I lie here now, spent and breathless, I cannot deny the pang of regret that you weren't the one to do this to me.

I miss you so terribly, my beloved, and I pray that we can steal away a moment for just the two of us soon, as otherwise I might start going completely mad.

Aesop.

My love. My sweetheart. My entire world.

I love you most ardently, with every inch of me, with my entire heart. It only beats for you. 

You hold it in your amazing hands, and I couldn't ever imagine a better person to be allowed to do so.

Let our next amazing stolen moment together come very soon.

Forever yours.

Oh, fucking hell…

How he wanted her here. No, he needed her here! Aesop needed her to be right here with him, doing the wonderful things she wrote in her letter. He had half a mind to only just make himself presentable, send a house elf to locate her, and steal her away to his chambers, and not let her go. However, his release left him entirely unwilling to do any such thing as moving right now.

The letter… Merlin, where did she learn to write like that? He was gone the moment she mentioned she was thinking of him and pleasuring herself while dictating the Self-writing Quill what to write… 

Maybe…

Maybe he could return the favour. 

Aesop didn't know whether what he'd write would have the same effect on her as her letter had on him, but he could at the very least try. He chuckled breathlessly.

Let's see which one of us cracks first.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this little PWP. As always, you can find this story and all of my other stories over at AO3. I greatly appreciate all feedback! ❤️

UNCENSORED ART

[coffeeandmagicaltales]

The Auror&The Devil part 22

profAesopSharp x adultMC

DISCLAIMER: ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST Traumatic events, mental health, trauma, death, strong emotions

THE DEVIL FROM THE FORBIDDEN FOREST KILLED 2 AURORS screamed the headline of the newspaper lying on Sharp’s cluttered desk in his bedroom. Two Aurors killed in the Forbidden Forest belonging to the Hogwarts Valley, witnesses, other aurors, dispparated just in time. Chief Constable Vincent Fromm reports: 'At this time, it is unknown whether [the Dark Wizard] acted alone or is collaborating with Goblins—wizards were struck with a fatal Unforgivable Curse while investigating signs of goblin activity nearby. What is certain is that he has nested in the forest depths, and we will soon track him down.' Local residents speak of strange phenomena that began in the forest a few months ago, almost as if 'the Devil himself' had taken up residence there—magical creatures are disappearing, eerie voices can be heard, and a thick, unnatural fog has descended upon the forest. The School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has been temporarily isolated from the outside world until the perpetrator is apprehended. Headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black assures that everything is under control and the castle is fully protected. More on this on page 4.

Next to the newspaper, an open letter from the Ministry lay in the shadows, with flickering light from the fireplace reflected in the crystal glass on the parchment, emptied of whiskey.

Professor Aesop Sharp,

I inform you that today you have been called to active duty. Please report next week, on September 14th, at 6:00 pm to Officer Singer's office in Hogsmeade for a briefing with your new partner. At this time, I cannot provide their name, as we still have many candidates undergoing recruitment. I am fully aware of your health condition and sincerely sympathize, but unfortunately, the Minister of Magic gave me no choice; the matter is truly serious. You will be tasked with investigating the situation in the Forbidden Forest. Headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black has already been informed and regrets that the position of Potions Master will soon be handed over to someone else. I cannot predict how long your service will last. The uniform is already on its way to you. Sincerely,

Chief Constable Vincent Ærinbjørn Fromm

Aesop took the letter in his hands and read it several times. He breathed shallowly, feeling his heart race since receiving this message and then the package with clothes.

He hadn’t expected this. He hadn’t even written to his family about it, let alone Morana... Why?

He put Fromm’s message back in the envelope and, with a quick flick of his wand, conjured a mirror among the few of classified documents concerning the “Devil from the Forbidden Forest” case, then opened the package from the Ministry.

As soon as he felt the familiar rough material of the uniform under his fingertips, a shiver ran through his skin... Well, he was an Auror again. This was what he had always dreamed of, every time he glanced at the badge on his desk, bored during a lesson... Ready to go into battle again, if only the heavens would send him such a chance...

Now... he stared blankly at the wardrobe, hearing only the pounding of the autumn rain against the window mixed with the thumping of his own heart, creating a cacophony in his mind. His legs trembled, he felt a lump in his throat. He felt utterly empty.

He took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind, and stripped down to his underwear. For a moment, he stood helpless and dazed, barefoot in his linen two-piece bodysuit, hesitating to take the next step, as if not quite sure what was happening and whether he had been trapped in a dream... He squeezed his eyes shut and reached for the first elements of the Auror gear. He put on the shin and thigh guards, fastening the straps tightly, checking that everything fit correctly and didn’t chafe or shift despite the underwear. He clipped the socks to the guards with a strap and, rising from the bend that caused an unpleasant twinge in his bad knee, fastened the special underbust corset worn by all officers to support the back, surprised that his hands still remembered how to put it on and which strap to thread through the appropriate buckle... His hand found the shirt and trousers in the box, which quickly found their place on his body, secured with suspenders.

With fluid motion, he put on the leather harness over his shoulders, fastening the buckles and checking that they weren't too loose, and slipped his wand into a special sheath attached to it. He threw on his jacket.

And finally... He looked at the badge glinting in the dim light. Pure memories of what he once loved, embedded in a piece of metal. Cold, with sharp edges. He brushed it gently with his fingers, but didn't feel what he used to... The surge of pride, the nostalgia... All of it was gone, replaced by a monstrous weight of sorrow and responsibility.

It's a strange feeling... To desire something, to dream of it coming true, and when the prayers are finally answered... To realize that it wasn't what you were searching for, it wasn't the lament that often hummed in his heart.

He felt a lump in his throat.

With a trembling hand, he pinned the badge to his jacket in front of the mirror, checking multiple times to ensure it wouldn't come off the lapel.

Who was the person in the mirror? Certainly not him, he didn't recognize himself.

He felt pathetic realizing that he was no longer and would never again be an Auror, that chapter of his life was closed... Yet... he had his students, the school, he could often visit his family, he was free. Maybe he was crippled, but he wasn't unhappy in his new role. His life was truly good, comfortable, peaceful... Aesop Sharp was now a respected professor... He earned quite well, had time to engage in art, go for walks, swim, relax... Something he once despised, considering it a waste of life and potential... heh... How could he ever have thought that a peaceful life was worse...

Now, seeing himself squeezed into the uniform, standing crookedly, constricted by straps and tight fabric that seemed to bind him like chains... He understood that this wasn't Aesop Sharp anymore.

The real Aesop was a Hogwarts teacher, proud, calm, balanced, avoiding trouble, responsible and sufficiently content with life not to seek additional, reckless thrills. Now he would probably finish eating a cookie, have a sip of whiskey, (which some parent sent him hoping to bribe him) and go gossip with Matilda and Abraham.

He didn't want to leave the castle, he didn't want to fear for his life and his partner's again.

He didn't want to be an Auror.

He was afraid of what he might find in the Forbidden Forest, that his disability could become a death sentence... He had managed to escape it once. Would he be able to do so again?

His heart began to feel heavy, as if someone had placed a stone in it. Torn, he didn't know what to do, for a moment wanting to meet with his family, say goodbye to everyone... No... he couldn't be such a pessimist... But on the other hand, if he didn't make it out alive... He wanted at least one last time to hug his mother, John, the Goblins... See Morana...

His tired eyes filled with tears. No. He couldn't worry them. He had enough of the tears from other professors, who were ready to snatch him away from the Ministry. He had enough of Matilda's silence, who, like him, sensed the danger. When he was leaving, she told him to come back, otherwise, Garreth, who was replacing him, would blow his class to pieces... He appreciated her humor, even if it was tinged with deep concern.

Better that his family didn't know. His mother was probably preparing for another trip with John... The Goblins were probably playing cards, outplaying wizards, and Morana?... Hmm... In her letters, she regularly wrote to him that she had been busy with Durmstrang matters for several months, and was making incredible progress with Isidora... He was so proud of her...

He glanced at her feather lying on a soft display cushion.

He picked it up gently and, placing a kiss on it, slid it behind his badge on his chest, securing it with a spell so it wouldn't fall out. He laid his hand on it and stood still for a moment, concentrating, squeezing his eyes shut, and whispered: Lead me.

He checked if he had everything he needed, carefully analyzed the list of potions, went through the case files once more, which were suspiciously few and didn't even include photographs from the crime scene. Maybe they were classified? He took a deep breath.

Only now was he ready.

With a quick flick of his wand, he packed all the suitcases and walked slowly towards the exit of the Guild Tower. A dreadful feeling— the new school year had just begun, not even a month had passed... He never expected he would have to leave the school.

As he descended the steep steps, he saw young Mr. Weasley waiting for him at the bottom. The boy stood with his back to him, nervously shifting from foot to foot.

Aesop cleared his throat and greeted him politely, and at the sound of his deep voice, the boy jumped and quickly turned around.

"Good morning, Professor!" he began shyly, but his thoughts faltered for a moment when he noticed the change in Sharp's appearance. His mouth fell open. Well, he had probably never seen an Auror in person before... Their appearance always made a strong impression on "kids," similar to Quidditch players. The boy blinked and quickly got to the point, barely catching his breath between the many words that poured out of him. "Professor, I promise I won't mess up, everything will be in place when you return, I promise I won't do anything stupid, no experiments, no testing new formulas, nothing like that, I won't cause you any trouble, really. Nothing will blow up, all the cauldrons will be clean..."

Aesop smiled slightly, looking at him kindly and extended his hand. Garreth shook it timidly.

"The Potions classroom is at your disposal, Mr. Weasley, good luck." Aesop said quietly, then passed Garreth and hobbled towards the school's exit.

"Professor Sharp! How nice to see you! It's... It's such an honor to work with you!"

Aesop smiled hearing the familiar voice and seeing in Singer's office a well-known, boyish face, but his enthusiasm quickly faded, feeling an unpleasant tightness in his stomach.

Ammit. Why him, of all people?

He boiled with rage. This was a dangerous mission, probably doomed to fail... Damn it! Not his student, not this young boy! How could the Ministry even think of such an idea!? He was still a kid; inexperienced, unfamiliar... afraid of his own shadow... The case files he had studied day and night were proof that many experienced Aurors simply didn't know how to crack this case and get to the person responsible for the murders... It was someone dangerously intelligent hiding behind strong spells and illusions... Someone even he doubted he could handle, let alone Ammit...

He greeted him trying not to show anything, nodding occasionally, but Mr. Thakkar's excited chatter about how he was accepted and trained at his family's urging seemed to reach him from far away.

"Gentlemen, please focus." Officer Singer said, making a sour face. "The entity described by witnesses as 'The Devil,' which you are to track down, is somewhere in the central part of the forest... The dark wizard has been surrounded by us, the coward hid under a thick shroud of fog... He does not shy away from Unforgivable Curses, plays with illusion... You are to assess the situation, see what his potential cooperation with the goblins looks like, so we don't have a repeat of the incidents with Ranrok and Rookwood..."

Aesop bit his tongue not to say that: "the incidents with Ranrok and Rookwood" were due to the Auror office's negligence. They had all the evidence handed to them on a platter by Morana and Miss Onai...

Now it was different... From what Singer said, he inferred that the Aurors were operating completely in the dark in this case... They stumbled upon someone who disrupted their investigation into the new goblin weapon, or suspected that a person was behind it, but did not expect to be so helpless against him... What made them take on this case with a teenage bookworm and a retired trade crimes specialist? It didn't make sense and the only explanation he could find at the moment was that the Ministry was in deep trouble and lacked Aurors, or needed people not so much brave as incompetent enough in this area to, not realizing the gravity of the situation, cross into the Forbidden Forest.

He snapped out of his thoughts noticing that he wasn't listening to Singer at all.

"... in the protocol. Is that clear?" asked the Officer, to which Ammit immediately nodded. Aesop said nothing, just measured the woman with his eyes.

The briefing lasted, as he expected, briefly, and the portkey quickly transported them to the makeshift Auror post at the entrance to the Forbidden Forest.

"Detective Sharp, Mr. Thakkar." an Auror greeted them, grabbing the brim of his hat.

"Hello Flux, what's the situation?" asked Aesop, remembering this man from his time at the Ministry. Magnus Flux should also theoretically be in early retirement, due to the loss of both lower limbs in a skirmish with a confused Graphorn.

"Eh, it's a mess." grumbled Flux. "Shitty. I have nightmares at night from sitting here most of the day, just making sure no lunatic enters the Forbidden Forest... I'm telling you, this place is haunted, I don't know what the hell happened here, but if you and I got called, it must be bad... I smell Ministry's desperation from a mile away."

Aesop just nodded... He preferred to keep his assumptions to himself, you never knew who another Auror might report something to.

Flux quickly made an entranc ein a s spell surrounding the forest, similar to the one protecting Hogwarts, allowing animals to move freely while blocking any other suspicious entities. "Not very smart." Aesop thought to himself. The forest was full of caves and old mines, someone who knew it even a little would easily know how to escape the Aurors' traps through underground corridors...

When Aesop and Ammit were on the other side, they only heard "good luck" from Flux, who closed the passage behind them.

The path ahead quickly disappeared into a dense, swirling fog, with tall trees casting dark, unsettling shadows, sometimes even blocking out the light. Aesop suspected it to be some kind of a gas, a potion, but its's smell... hmmm... nothing he could recognize. Suspicious.

The disturbing silence was broken by a sound similar to a whisper, and the men drew their wands.

"Mr. Thakkar, before we take a step in any direction, here are a few rules."

"Yes, professor..."

"Ugh, just call me 'Sharp,' alright, it'll be easier." Aesop instructed him. "Please listen carefully and take a few of them to heart. First: you can suggest various things to me, but I will have the final say on everything. Do we understand each other?"

Ammit nodded, somewhat dazed.

"Good. If I tell you to run, you run straight to Flux. That's the most important rule. The second most important rule: if something happens to me, you run. No arguing, no trying to help me, you run as far and as fast as you can. Next: if anything happens to you, even a scratch, we end the mission. Next: you call for help only when you're safe. I go first, you stay alert and try to cover me. We go single file, in silence, we'll cast disillusionment spells on ourselves in a moment... Do you have any potions?"

"Yes! Edurus, 4 vials, Wiggenweld, 25 vials..."

"Good, good," Aesop stopped him, pleased that Ammit had remembered something from his lessons. That was enough, and he had no experience, carrying potions he wouldn't know how to use would only unnecessarily burden him and confuse.

"Let's go," he ordered, then they put on protective masks and both disappeared into the embrace of the silvery mist.

Time seemed to stand still.

It was rather cold, unnaturally quiet, as if the forest was devoid of life, even the kinds less friendly to wizards, like spiders. They couldn't even hear their own footsteps. They walked in semi-darkness because the light from their wands might unnecessarily attract attention. Aesop felt they were being watched, something was lurking here. He heard whispers. Neither a male nor a female voice. At first, it was gibberish, but soon he began to recognize snippets of words: "danger," "leave," "you have blood on you," "I'll find you."

He was surprised that none of these were serious threats, more like... warnings, though he would have preferred not to hear any ghostly whispers at all. He glanced over his shoulder at Ammit: The boy was trembling with fear, looking around nervously... Suddenly, he stopped and, whispering "look," pointed at an object lying ahead of them in the dim light.

A wand.

He didn't recognize it at all, decided not to pick it up for now, it could be a trap. He limped over to it and with a wave of his hand, dissipated a cloud of mist. Nearby lay someone's boot and...

"Turn around, I found a body. Stand guard, listen, stay alert," he ordered, and Ammit immediately complied. The sight of a decomposing, partially eaten by local beasts human might not have been on the list of Thakkar's first mission. "Revelio," Aesop whispered... Indeed, the spell's blow that struck the man threw him back a few meters. Avada, no doubt about it... The second wand was embedded in the trunk of a tree; following its path, Aesop found the second Auror; the woman lay nearby on her stomach, also thrown back by the unforgivable curse. Interestingly... Both had sloppily draped poacher robes over their uniforms... Perhaps they were undercover, trying to sneak through sensing danger? Witness reports said nothing about this, nor did the sparse documents. At least now he was certain that they were compiled solely based on third-party accounts. This shouldn't be; a crime scene involving Wizards should be documented and secured... It was impossible that they were so afraid to come here that they neglected their duties, though if this case belonged to Singer, nothing surprised him anymore. With a quick wand movement, he summoned a notebook with a quill, which began to record all the details of the crime scene. He looked around... Hmmm... He also didn't see any signs of goblin activity, though witnesses claimed they were attacked at their research site... Well, there could be several possibilities. Goblins might have gathered their things; they had enough time, but knowing their sloppiness and tendencies to abandon campsites, they probably wouldn't have cleaned up after themselves... There were no traces of any machines or trampled paths, but autumn rain could explain that too. There was nothing interesting here, which was the most suspicious.

"Prior Incantato," Aesop whispered, and to his astonishment, both wands revealed that the last spells cast with them were...

Avada Kedavra.

He furrowed his brow and pondered. Aurors using unforgivable curses? Well, many advocated fighting fire with fire, like Solomon Sallow, and besides, it's unknown what those two really saw before they died. The sight must have been terrifying for them to decide to send Avada towards it.

There was nothing more here; no details, clues, the bodies were too damaged by animals to determine which wound was inflicted after and which before death. It was even more impossible to state or deny with certainty what had happened here that fateful day.

"Psst," Ammit called Sharp, who immediately put away his notes and joined the boy, sharpening his senses. "I-I think I saw something... Some a-animal..."

Before they could react, another shadow swept past them, a gust of icy wind making their hair stand on end. Ammit let out a faint squeak as they heard a distant howl.

Hagall, Maðr, Ár...

It wasn't an animal's voice, but a human wail. Though like a song, it had its rhythm, to which drumming joined.

Ræið, Ís, Sól, Valknutr

Drums, was this some kind of ritual? Damn it! Aesop was increasingly disliking all this.

"Retreat," he pulled Ammit by the arm, and they started quickly retracing their steps.

"I hear voices," Ammit confessed, his teeth chattering. "I'm scared, what will we do? Oh, Merlin we're doomed..."

"Hold on..." Aesop managed to say, taking the boy by the arm, dragging him along like a rag doll.

I see you... a sinister voice said, the drums pounding... Louder... Closer... Shadows swirled around them, oh Merlin, they might have lost their way...

Hagall, Maðr, Ár, Ræið, Ís, Sól, Valknutr

I see you... I see... You're trapped...

The noise: the cacophony, the howling, the strange song, the unknown words, the drumming, which made their stomachs vibrate, almost completely deafened them.

Fimbulthulur, Fjoelnir, Udhur, Ulfroegni, Thekkur, Thudur, Onski, Ofnir, Rognir, Raudhir, Grimnir, Goendlir, Hlefreyr, Hangaty, Njolstapi, Naudhvindir, Jolfudhr, Jafnhaur, Atridhir, Alfadhir, Sidgrani

Suddenly a blinding light flashed, flickering in rhythm with the drums, similar to thunder, dazzling them with a strong glow they weren't prepared for. They covered their eyes with their hands, completely blinded and dazed.

Sigfadhir, Dughirgjafi, Dresvarpir, Bileygur, Biflidhi, Margvisir, Midhvitnis, Londungr, Launhirdir, Yggr ok Yungir

Ammit fell to the ground, yelling and crying, Aesop grabbed him by the uniform's lapels and with a groan of effort, dragged him blindly behind the trunk of a large tree, into the shadow, trying to calm him down despite feeling like he was losing his mind. The boy was in a panic, thrashing around, covering his ears with his hands, screaming that he was scared, that he wanted it to end, that he preferred to die... He was hysterical.

"No... No, no, no... Stay with me, love, stay with me..." Aesop whispered trying to calm Ammit down, cuddling him, feeling the situation was becoming hopeless, and began thinking frantically, they were trapped.

Just like in Scarborough.

Not even Felix Felicis could help here, nothing could probably get Ammit back on his feet, who suddenly collapsed completely unconscious... Sharp knew he couldn't carry him to Flux and defend at the same time... Tears streamed down his cheek. Was this where he was going to stay forever? Oh, if only Morana were here, if only she could help him...

"Expecto Patronum," a raven shot out from his wand, flying immediately towards the source of the unknown magic, attacking the enemy, buying Aesop some time.

Her feather... Maybe it would protect the unconscious Ammit, help him wait out the worst... Meanwhile, he would distract, when the Patronus disappeared... He immediately placed the raven's feather inside Ammit's coat, laid him in a shaded, hidden spot under the branches, and himself hid behind the trunk, trying to sense instinctively where the dark wizard was now.

Suddenly, he heard a familiar sound behind him... A portkey? But where-?

He turned around and noticed that Ammit had disappeared. Questions swirled in his mind, but after a moment, he understood that Morana had not only secured the feather with protective spells... Apparently, it sensed danger and transported itself, Merlin knows where, but knowing her, somewhere safe... At least he didn't have to worry about that, his partner was already safe. He sighed with relief and focused on the task at hand.

He took a deep breath and, jumping out of hiding, sent a nonverbal spell intuitively towards the larger shadow over which a luminous raven was flying.

“Aaaaaaahhhh!”

He screamed as he was thrown back by a powerful blow when his shot bounced off the enemy’s shield. He rolled on the ground to catch his dislodged wand and quickly tumbled again towards the shadow.

You have no chance... Surrender and leave.

Aesop stepped out from behind a fallen log, aiming his wand at the shadow.

The light stopped pulsing, it became eerily calm, and in front of him, in mist as white as snow, stood a horned, furry figure leaning on a staff. Aesop's mind began to race, piecing together the puzzle, analyzing everything he saw. He felt in his bones that the opponent had something to hide, he was more concerned with Aesop leaving him alone. Was he hiding something valuable? Artifacts, knowledge, someone else? A person, because certainly, behind this entire display, there was a person, did not seem like they planned to deliberately attack him... However, he preferred to stay alert...

Sharp delivered a few more, this time light, warning blows, knowing that he had to dodge and, just like before, the spells bounced off the extraordinarily strong shield that covered the stranger... When the spell hit it, a tight net woven from runes formed, deflecting the magic.

Aesop was panting, feeling streams of sweat running down his face under the mask... He was retreating cautiously, seeing that the figure was starting to walk towards him, the chains wrapped around its waist clanging ominously. He didn't know what to do, what this person’s intentions were, he was on the verge of despair.

He stood crookedly, stumbled, and groaned in pain as he fell, but even while writhing in pain, he did not lower his wand, still aiming it at the eerie figure.

It was already a step away from him, crouched in front of him, tilting its large, hideous, horned head with interest... It was... A mask? Yes. Made of deer's skull,rest of the outfit was sewn out of goat's skin. It was probably meant to scare, to evoke fear from afar, bringing to mind a demonic figure...

“Leave here and don't come back...”

“Who are you!?” Aesop managed to utter, the figure twitched and came so close that Aesop, noticing its audacity, hissed in anger, pressing the wand to the Dark Wzard's neck, then tore off Auror's mask, feeling that it was getting harder to breathe under it, and also to show his own face to the opponent. “Go ahead, kill me, but first tell me who you are, bastard, go ahead... look me in the eyes you coward...” he growled in a sharp, hoarse tone, trembling with fear.

The figure grabbed the horns and, to his astonishment, complied.

The last thing the Auror saw before darkness enveloped the world was large, frightened blue eyes, black curls falling on the shoulders, and a freckled cheek covered with a scar. Aesop froze.

“Morana?”

End of part 22, thanks for reading

[fanartandfanfiction]

Hogwarts legacy modern AU texting

Fig: Help Aesop I think my phone has been enchanted

Sharp: ???

Fig: It keeps speaking to me

Sharp: What do you mean it’s speaking to you?

Fig: It introduced itself to me and said it was my virtual assistant

Sharp: Are you talking about Siri?

Fig: Yes! You know her as well?

Sharp: You know it’s not a real person, right? It’s a computer program.

Fig: Then how can she speak to me?

Sharp: Eleazar, it’s fine. She helps you with whatever you need. You can ask her about the weather, or to send a message.

Fig: Hello Siri how are you today? Please send a message to Aesop Sharp. Please tell him that I’ll try to learn how to use it. Sincerely, Eleazar Fig

Sharp: …

[finkinthisfrew]

Anything (Pt.2)

A Matty Healy Fanfic

cw: non-lifethreatening burns

Chapter 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You wouldn't dare," he scoffed.

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

"Mercy, mercy!" he begged while laughing. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What have I gotten into?

[mrs-sharp]

The Eyes of Graphorns

Read part 1-8 here.

Pairing: Aesop Sharp x Adult MC

Tw: mention of blood, injuries

Summary: Sharp and Elaine return to Scarborough to learn more about their past. When they finally arrive there, they do indeed find clues and a part of Elaine's memory returns, until they suddenly have to flee.

Chapter 9 - The Prohecy

"Ready?"

"Ready."

The cry of an eagle echoed as Elaine released two Hippogriffs from her suitcase. Sharp watched as they soared into the sky and eventually circled over the dark terrain. One of them was snow-white.

Actually, Aesop Sharp was anything but ready for what lay ahead. They had apparated to a forest north of York and planned to continue flying from there. It was too dangerous to apparate directly to Scarborough. The risk of landing right into the hands of the Renegades was too high. Besides, the Floo Network was probably still being monitored, and they wanted to avoid unnecessary interrogations by the Ministry. Initially, they had considered covering the last stretch on brooms, but Elaine insisted on bringing the Hippogriffs. A whistle pierced the cool night air.

“Highwing, Silverbeak!" Elaine called out as the creatures landed, ran towards her, and she patted the head of one of the majestic beings. The other Hippogriff gently nudged her face with its beak.

"I brought company," she explained to the creatures, who immediately turned to Sharp as if they understood Elaine. The Potions Master stood frozen in amazement and a bit of unease, unable to utter a word.

"Bow," she now directed him, "maintain eye contact and don't blink."

Sharp remembered that Hippogriffs were extremely proud creatures, and although it was difficult for him to expose himself so vulnerably to these enormous, albeit graceful beings, he followed Elaine's instructions. For a moment, nothing happened, and Sharp looked up at them with tension. He saw Elaine standing beside the Hippogriffs, ready to intervene and protect him. With a practised eye, she observed every movement of the creatures. Finally, both Hippogriffs bowed almost simultaneously, and Elaine's expression relaxed.

"Wonderful, as I expected," she smiled.

Sharp glanced at Elaine from the side. He watched as she whispered something into Silverbeak's ear. Elaine's presence filled him with a confidence that was otherwise foreign to him, especially considering where they were going. For a moment, he forgot everything around and tried to understand what was happening to him. Before he could find an answer, he felt a beak gently nibbling at his sleeve. Silverbeak had come over to him. Sharp cautiously stroked the creature's neck, whereupon it knelt down and lay on the ground.

"Are you really sure you want to accompany me? You could still turn back and..."

They hadn't talked much since they set out, and Elaine had the impression that Sharp was trying to hide something deep inside himself that he didn't want her to see. Sharp shook his head.

"I'm sure. As I said..."

He walked towards her until she had to look up to meet his gaze. At their first meeting, his height and his dark eyes had frightened her. Today, she only felt safety. She hadn't wanted to admit it to herself and had convinced herself that it was only because Sharp had been there for her after the Battle of Hogwarts. But by now, she longed for his presence. She didn't just want to find a cure for him because she owed him. By now, she realized that she could bear his pain much worse than her own. She yearned for every minute of his company, every look he gave her, every word he spoke to her with his warm, rough voice.

"... you are the only one I would return with."

His words made her tremble. Of course, it was impossible for him to feel similarly for her, so Elaine pushed such thoughts as far back in her mind as possible. She knew it was ridiculous. Even though they were colleagues now, she was still his former student. There was no way that someone as intelligent, sincere, and sharp-witted as Aesop Sharp would get involved with an inexperienced, failed Auror. And so it should remain.

For a moment, Elaine thought back to her last trip to Scarborough. Maybe it had been a mistake to bring Sharp along. She knew he disapproved of her putting herself in danger because of him. That was probably also the reason why he was now accompanying her. However, she couldn't bear it if he...

"We have to go, the sun will rise in a few hours," she replied and turned away from Sharp. She couldn't allow herself to get too used to his presence. Sharp was left puzzled. Something inside him seemed to break painfully, and he didn't understand why Elaine was suddenly so dismissive towards him. Maybe it was just the tense situation, he tried to reassure himself.

Sharp had some difficulty bestriding the Hippogriff, even though the creature had knelt down. Elaine considered offering her help, but she knew he was too proud to accept it, and she didn't want to embarrass him. So she turned away and busied herself with stroking Highwing. Sharp was very much like a Hippogriff, Elaine thought. Proud, intimidating, and dangerous, but gentle and caring if one had earned his respect and trust. She chuckled at the thought that he had recently compared her to a Graphorn. The Graphorn and the Hippogriff. What an unequal pair. Once Elaine was sure that Sharp and Silverbeak were ready, she bestrode Highwing and gave the signal to depart.

The flight on the Hippogriff made Sharp forget for a few moments where they were heading. Not only was the view breathtaking. He hadn't ridden a broom in a long time, but the feeling of being carried by such a graceful creature was unparalleled. It was as if he was carried not by a creature, but solely by freedom and magic. Below them stretched moors and forests, while the starry sky above draped them like a cloak in the cold December air.

Just before they reached Scarborough, they cast a Disillusionment Charm on themselves and the Hippogriffs. They slowly descended and landed on the coast near Scarborough Castle, far enough from prying eyes, and then walked the last stretch south to reach the harbour. Over the sea, on the horizon, a bright strip could already be seen. The sea breeze blew cold and refreshing against their faces. Sharp shuddered as he finally realized where they were. He buried his hands deep in his coat pockets as they set off.

As if sensing what was going on inside him, Elaine linked her arm with his without looking at him or stopping. Sharp did not object. It gave him a sense of security to know she was close, and her touch dispelled the cold of the winter wind. To his surprise, they managed to find a common walking rhythm without any effort.

"You don't have to return alone. Take me with you."

At first, he was surprised by her choice of words, but she was right. He had been preoccupied with his own thoughts and past. He had thought so much about what he had lost here that he had forgotten what he was bringing this time and that he had to protect it at all costs. Sharp smiled. Elaine saw it out of the corner of her eye.

"Thank you," Sharp whispered so quietly that Elaine could barely hear it.

It was still so early in the morning that they encountered hardly any people. As they walked down a side street towards the harbour, they noticed a lone woman sitting by the roadside. She had dishevelled, shoulder-length red hair and dirty clothes. For some reason, Elaine felt a connection to her that she couldn't explain. She looked down and pushed the feeling that had gripped her aside, attributing it to the countless afternoons she had spent on the street herself, searching for something to eat. She moved a little closer to Sharp, who noticed her discomfort. As they passed the woman, Elaine's feeling intensified. As if the woman had read her thoughts, she jumped up and grabbed Elaine's arm so suddenly that she couldn't even reach for her wand. Sharp wanted to attack, but when he saw the woman's face, he paused. She looked almost exactly like Elaine, only older. Her eyes seemed to stare into emptiness. With a distorted voice, she began to speak:

"Two fates, connected like twins, will be led back to the place of their damnation by a dark power. Their souls are one, but their paths diverge. Only one can preserve the future of the other, but will not be able to save it. And the dark power will be the answer to what is missing."

The woman let go of Elaine's arm and looked at her as if she had just awakened from a trance. For a moment, there was silence. It was as if Elaine were looking into a mirror. Both women stared at each other in horror until the stranger whispered one word: "Jane?"

Elaine felt something change inside her. The smell of saltwater filled the air. Somewhere, someone had lit a fire, and the scent of freshly ignited firewood wafted through the streets. The morning sun slowly crept over the rooftops of the city, bathing the street in orange-yellow light. The wind came from the east, and everything suddenly felt so familiar to Elaine that it frightened her. Sharp immediately noticed that something was wrong.

"Professor Hopkins? Elaine?" he tried to speak to her, but she seemed not to hear him. Her gaze stared into nowhere, and her face had lost all colour. She was breathing rapidly. The smell, the light, she had seen all this before, and suddenly she started running, running until she reached the harbour. The memory came suddenly:

Fire. Everywhere, fire. Where is her father? He ran into the fire. He said he had to help and she should wait here and not leave, but he hasn't come back, even though he promised. Elaine hears screams and then sees red and green flashes flying across the harbour. Something dark rushes past her, more red flashes, a body hits the ground in front of her, the face full of blood.

"What is the child doing here?" a woman's voice suddenly calls through the darkness. Elaine knows the voice, but she has forgotten her name. Then a second voice, that does not belong to her father:

"What child?"

Feet tramp over wet cobblestones, reflecting the light of the flames. Someone grabs her by the shoulders and shakes her. The two voices buzz through the cold harbour air. The sun has already set.

"What did you see? What did you see?"

"Come on, get her out of here. I'll take care of the Auror,” the women’s voice says.

"But..."

"Just do it. You have to obliviate her and take her far away."

Elaine feels someone grab her under the arms and lift her up.

She wriggles and screams and tries to break free from the grip.

"No, don't, my father said I should wait for him!"

She feels hot tears as if the fire reflected in her eyes is now running down her cheeks.

Aesop Sharp's hand on her shoulder brought Elaine back to the present. She had stopped exactly at the spot where he had been injured back then.

“What's...?" he stammered.

"Here it happened... the fire... my father... he said I should wait," she stuttered, confused. Sharp didn't understand, but he could see she was in no condition to stay here. They needed to leave immediately. Elaine was trembling. Sharp took off his coat and draped it over her shoulders. He was about to put his arm around her to comfort her when she pushed him aside.

"Watch out!"

Sharp stumbled and just barely saw something dark rushing toward them. Elaine already had her wand in hand and cast a protective spell, but the thing was too fast. It looked like a cloud of dark smoke, erratically moving in all directions and constantly changing course. Red flashes erupted within it. Sharp remembered he had seen something like this before: the day his partner was killed. Suddenly, a terrible fear gripped him that this day might repeat itself today. He grabbed his wand and fired curse after curse, determined to make things different this time, but nothing seemed to work. Elaine desperately tried to find a way out, but all she could think of was to press her fingers to her lips and let out a loud whistle.

Everything happened very quickly then. The cloud of dark magic lunged at Sharp, and he felt something knock him off his feet. At first, he thought the dark power had caught him, but when he got back up, he realized he was uninjured. Instead, he saw Elaine on the ground, one hand clutching her wand, the other pressed to her stomach. Before he could figure out where the dark magic was, he heard an eagle's cry and felt himself being lifted by his shoulders. A glance down revealed that Elaine had been rescued by Highwing and that the dark entity wasn't following them.

The Hippogriffs flew back to the woods from where they had set off the previous night and dropped them onto the soft ground. Sharp's shoulders ached. Suddenly, he heard a whimpering sound. At first, he thought one of the Hippogriffs was injured, but then he realized the sound was coming from Elaine, who was lying beside him in the moss. Her wand lay next to her on the ground, and she now had both hands pressed against the left side of her abdomen. She squeezed her eyes shut and breathed rapidly. Sharp crawled over to her and propped himself up on one arm to get a better look. He placed a hand over hers, feeling the sticky, wet blood that quickly cooled in the winter air. He looked into her eyes.

"Let me see," he spoke calmly to avoid alarming her further, gently moving her hands and the fabric of her clothing aside. Underneath was a deep wound, all too familiar to Sharp. It had the shape of a lightning bolt, a mark only dark magic could cause.

"How... bad... is it?" Elaine asked with great effort.

At the sound of her voice, Sharp's world shattered. Everything had happened so fast. Once again, he had failed. Once again, he had been unable to protect what he... He couldn't bear to finish the thought. But now was not the time for self-pity. Instead, he pulled the vial of Elaine's potion from his coat pocket and dripped it onto the wound. At least it stopped the bleeding for a moment.

"It looks much better already," Sharp lied. Elaine was touched by his awkward attempt to lighten the situation, so she pretended to believe him and smiled. Sharp conjured a bandage that wrapped around her hips and immediately turned red.

"That... was... an... Obscurus," Elaine pressed out through clenched teeth. Her voice grew weaker with each word.

"Shh, you should conserve your strength," Sharp advised. He wiped the blood from his hand on his jacket and placed the back of his hand on Elaine's forehead, hoping to soothe her. Her skin felt hot despite the frost still covering the ground. He looked into her eyes, gently stroking her face with his fingers. It was dangerous to disapparate with her in this condition, but he had no other choice. They couldn't stay here.

"I was there... where it... happened." Elaine swallowed and looked Sharp in the eyes.

"I... I’m glad that... you..." were her last words before she lost consciousness.

This way to Chapter 10 - An Uncertain Night

[morrithal]

Chuck Tingle's work is exactly like Aesop's fables in that they are seemingly silly stories that are actually extremely sincere moral lessons the vast majority of the time. Aaaaaand post

[k7l4d4]

K Reviews and Rants: Miraculous Ladybug Season 5! Episode 21

Alright, onto the episode that is supposedly meant to show Lila finally getting figured out.

Now, I'm gonna ignore the usual Lila Manipulates everyone BS. This episode has two big problems with it.

Firstly, it tries to present Miss Bustier and Damocles as reasonable authority figures... yet neither of them ever actually try and get the students' direct input or seriously question the out of character career requests for them. Additionally, it has Mylene get on a soapbox about kids "being forced to pick their futures so early in life" or something stupid like that. (Takes a deep breath) I literally had to change what I wanted to do for work three times growing up. Now, I'm not that old, I'll admit, but I have firsthand experience with having to make a change in career choice after making a decision. This episode treating Mylene as making some profound statement, when she's basically just rephrasing the simple fact that there's no guarantee a person is going to maintain the same career in life after school as some kind of criticism of the educational system. Now, I know NOTHING about the French Educational system... but when it tries to push an aesop like this right after literally showing everyone cheerfully and eagerly acting as if they didn't have a perfect idea of what they want to do in life, it just comes off as awkward. Oh, and them further making Adrien into a damsel in distress with nothing more of substance to him then his crush on Marinette was... uncomfortable on so many levels.

Secondly, this episode going full sympathetic retcon on Sabrina in the most blatant way possible. For a series that has done basically nothing with her besides have her be Chloe's goon, they are trying very hard to pretend she hasn't been Chloe's willing accomplice all this time. They are acting as if she's never gotten anyone hurt or damaged anyone's lives on Chloe's behalf before, despite this very season showing how she ratted out Marinette's "Crush" to Chloe in Derision and Chloe using that to play a mean prank on Marinette... and ignoring all the times she's lied and stolen on Chloe's request, without a hint of protest. It's hard to see Sabrina as an innocent bystander or dupe when this season is the first time she's ever shown any guilt or remorse for being Chloe's lackey... and it being the first time she's done something THIS bad doesn't really work when she's stating it's because her dad's a cop (when that's never mattered to her before) and because "helping Chloe has never hurt anyone" (which is just a straight-up lie). It feels less like she's turning on Chloe out of guilt or remorse and more because she's upset that Chloe is seemingly replacing her with Lila... when this episode really makes it feel more like Lila is making Chloe HER "Sabrina."

Anyway, rambling Forward over. Onto the review! As always, please forgive my profanity.

Episode 21: Confrontation

Okay, now we get the opening scene of Adrien struggling with an orientation form with Plagg pointing out how simple it is. Just... writing down your request for next year's school and your career goals. Admittedly, I can see why this would be hard with Adrien; bullshit writing decisions or not, Adrien struggling to figure out what he wants to do with his life makes perfect sense. Although I sincerely doubt that this would be a hardlocked "one and done" thing that is absolutely binding, because that would be utterly fucking stupid. Because if this kind of thing WERE absolutely binding, then you could have the biggest slacker in school write down the name of the fanciest, most exclusive school in the area that comes with a lot of perks and then slap down some stupid answer, and I doubt any school in the world would put up with something that easily abused.

...And we hear from Adrien that he isn't even writing down what HE wants, but what his father has DECIDED for him. REAL great development here, nice to know that the kid who literally BROKE OUT OF HIS OWN FUCKING HOUSE is still too chicken to figure out what he wants out of life. Also, the fact that they once again made Adrien's life decisions and attitudes be about someone else (how MARINETTE will feel about his dad making him move to London) is of course just fine. /s

Ugh, fine, I guess hearing Plagg show solidarity with Adrien is nice. Still kinda annoying, since Plagg is pretty much always just the goofball, rather than a serious individual.

Okay, so it looks like these orientation forms do have a safety check, in that the teachers review things with the students to see if they have the qualifications to go to their chosen school for their studies of choice... now how does this get ruined? Oh yeah, Marinette gets a "strange feeling" now that she and Alya aren't the class reps. Clearly this strange feeling has NOTHING to do with the person she KNOWS is a liar and manipulator who will screw over anyone for her own benefit is now the Class Rep, surely not!! Also, "entrusting us with their hopes and dreams!" Dramatic much? It's not as if they can't just apply to schools of their choice anyway... can they? I've got no fucking clue how the French Education System handles this crap.

Let's see what they wanna study...

Alya: Wants to be a Reporter, needs to specialize in Literature.

Nino: Movie Director. Weird how his love of music and DJing disappeared.

Mylene: "Defender of the Earth." Wow, they couldn't even pretend to have her put down a serious job, could they?

Ivan: Stay-at-home-dad. ...Huh, I honestly can't say anything snarky about that, it takes guts to be cool with that kind of life, I just hope he knows what that kind of commitment entails.

Rose: "Hairstylist," okay, not too weird... "For Unicorns." Never mind, they really aren't even pretending to have her be serious, they are straight-up insisting Rose is a delusional idiot. That might sound harsh, but come the FUCK on, there's a line between having an innocent idealism still, and unironically wanting a job that involves working with mythical creatures. Who knows, maybe Unicorns actually exist in MLB, I doubt that her job is even remotely applicable. Wait, she got told Unicorns don't exist... and changed it to "Hairstylist for Dragons."

Juleka: I couldn't even hear what she said, but given Marinette's comment on "that being SO you," I'm gonna assume it's something insanely stereotypically "goth."

Sabrina: A nurse. Because she "loves taking care of other people." I am cringing, because it sounds like they are trying to insist Sabrina being Chloe's enabler and minion is something positive that "Chloe tainted" or some shit like that. Also, she's never shown any indication of wanting to take care of people before, EVER.

Chloe: "I don't need to do anything since I'm already rich." They are seriously this fucking stupid. They can't even give her wanting to be something snobby and "powerful" that will let her pander to her own ego, they seriously are treating her like an unironic "Ideal Rich" stereotype. News flash, even RICH PEOPLE HAVE STUFF THEY LIKE TO DO. God fucking dammit.

Lila: I'm not even going to type her answer since it's a bare-faced lie meant to make her look good, which she even admits to.

Also, I'm genuinely confused on why we never got Nathaniel's, Max's, or Kim's. I'm not even gonna pretend to touch Alix's situation with a ten foot pole.

Seeing Marinette fretting about "entrusting her classmate's futures to such awful girls" really, REALLY annoys me. The entire fucking REASON that Lila is even class-rep is because of the authors trying to pretend that Lila transferred in BEFORE the elections for Class Rep took place, when I'm literally looking at the timeline and she explicitly came LONG AFTER.

Yada yada yada, Lila lying through her teeth again. Wow, not even ten seconds and she's having Sabrina destroy the original forms and forge new ones. UGH. "You're using too many words to explain your plan!" HAHAHA ISN'T CHLOE BEING A DUMB BLONDE STEREOTYPE HILARIOUS!? I AM ENJOYING THIS AND NOT PISSED OFF AT ALL!!! And WOW, Lila's "brilliant plan" is to just... frame Marinette for replacing everyone's forms with ones that would make them miserable. There are clearly no holes in this, certainly not the fact that Miss Bustier KNOWS now that Sabrina can and does forge signatures and handwriting, and that the whole "frame Marinette for doing something awful" routine only has a 50% success record, even with Lila's bullshit in effect. This isn't stupid, nope, not one bit. /s

And we get a reminder from Chloe that Andre is a stereotypical scumbag politician, it's been a while since the show has been willing to do that. I wonder if it has something to do with the show trying to pretend he's a good dad because of Zoe?

Also, apparently the lynchpin to Lila's plan is having Sabrina lie and say that MARINETTE made her forge the papers... wow, people will totally buy that the girl who does anything and everything Chloe says would ever take orders from someone other than Chloe, that's definitely what will happen. Much shock, much brilliance. /s

Wow, literally having Chloe gush over Lila's plan being "utterly villainous." They aren't even pretending to be subtle in the slightest. This is pathetic. And now Sabrina's blowing into her weird whistle in a panic because she "can't do this." Girl, you have been Chloe's lapdog and have had no problem with ruining lives in the past without a hint of regret, don't pretend you have a conscience NOW of all times. Also, what the FUCK is with that stupid whistle? Where did it come from, and why is it only NOW something so important to her??

"Helping Chloe doesn't hurt anyone" YOU LITERALLY TRIED TO STEAL MARINETTE'S DIARY IN SEASON ONE CUT THE BULLSHIT. "Forging documents and lying? It's different!" No. IT IS NOT. YOU HAVE LIED ON CHLOE'S BEHALF MANY TIMES IN THIS SERIES ALREADY!!!

And after a moment of pointless cruelty (and more "I didn't do anything wrong!!" whining from Sabrina) by Chloe, we are now back to the reappearance of... ugh. The "Resistance." What have these idiots accomplished again...? Oh right, they publicly harassed Adrien's father, fell hook line and sinker for Hawkmoth's idiotic "scheme" to conceal his identity again, lead a fairly pointless resistance against Hawkmoth after he gets the Ladybug Earrings... and that's about it. What a joke.

Okay, and somehow Damocles hears them and is looking for them on the basis that they are intruders. He's honestly not wrong, since I sincerely doubt they are supposed to be hiding in that weird nook in the school after class hours. Apparently Nino's "brilliant plan" is for all of them to go to the same high school... for many, MANY reasons, that feels utterly fucking stupid to me, since there's no guarantee that any of them would get schedules that would let them meet up, there's no guarantee that the school would be able to accommodate their future goals and ideals, and, oh yeah, THEY DON'T NEED TO GO TO THE SAME SCHOOL TO STILL BE A TEAM.

And it seems Damocles is a fan of their plan. Not terrible, but that feels like the kind of thing that's gonna get out of hand in the worst way VERY QUICKLY. Also, Nino thinking his plan will be able to fix Adrien's problem would be hilarious if it didn't illustrate how stupid the writers are making the cast for the sake of plot. And yup, the little problem of them having different dreams and goals that are incompatible with all going to the same school immediately crops up.

While Marinette takes a call, Mrs. Mendeleev is tattling on the "Resistance" to Mr. Damocles. For once, she's absolutely right that them lurking in the boiler room is unacceptable. Not only is it breaking several rules, it's just plain dangerous to be in a place like that without a good reason. And... Damocles is covering for them. That would be sweet if it weren't liable to get him in massive trouble. Oh, looks like Mendeleev is unsatisfied with how Damocles runs things. I mean, so am I, but I doubt she'd be any better given her track record.

"It's so unfair that we have to decide what we want to do so early on in life!" MYLENE, IF YOU THINK THAT THIS IS THE BE-ALL END-ALL OF YOUR LIFE, YOU ARE FUCKING DELUSIONAL. Changing careers and exploring different subjects and career paths is NORMAL. People who go into one thing and never divert from it are the EXCEPTION not the rule. I wanted to become a programmer, then got into IT, before I finally ended up as a Pharmacy Technician. Them acting as if "taking a bunch of different courses to figure out what we want" is this groundbreaking thing pisses me off. They come off as spoiled brats, especially when each of them had pretty clear ideas on what they wanted to do right off the bat. This is fucking stupid.

No no no. I'm not even remotely pretending to entertain them acting as if trying to "take a stand" against filing these forms THAT THEY ALREADY FILLED OUT AND HANDED OVER by "striking" is anything other then performative BS. I have had my fill of performative BS for a while now. Fuck this.

Seriously, why the fuck do they have Juleka speaking so fucking QUIETLY? This is just fucking bizarre. She's capable of speaking at a normal volume without issue, she's SPOKEN at a normal volume without issue THIS SEASON, why is she having this problem NOW OF ALL TIMES!? Ding Dong, Rose points out the fucking problem with doing a "strike" when it comes to something THEY HAVE ALREADY DONE.

And it looks like MAYBE Adrien has pushed himself to do something other then be totally enslaved to what Gabe wants of him... and we don't even get to see it. Who bets that it's Adriennette shit? ...Yup, it's Adriennette shit. He literally didn't even list anything, he just said he "wanted to be with Marinette." If that's supposed to be touching, it fails. It's just him basically wasting a form by treating it like a love letter.

And Chloe dumps the form in the emergency bathroom that she and Lila are hiding in. How did no one see them all enter at the same time, and why was no one suspicious? And I cannot repeat myself enough, them trying to act as if Sabrina just NOW has a conscience PISSES ME OFF.

And we get a scene of Caline taking Lila at face value. For fuck's sake, this better not be binding... and Damocles is taking Lila's bullshit rationalization on why Alya obviously put down "Optician" at face value, FUCK. THAT. THIS is why this guy needs to be kicked out of his position, he SUCKS AT HIS JOB. Seriously, why the fuck would ALYA WEARING GLASSES MEANS SHE WANTS TO MAKE THEM FOR PEOPLE!? And Mrs. Mendeleev just saying "her grades allow it" really proves she's no better at this job then Damocles is. Uuuggghhh... your JOB should be to call in Alya and TALK WITH HER since her homeroom teacher has literally JUST POINTED OUT THAT THIS IS UNUSUAL FOR ALYA. FUCK THIS SHIT.

"Juleka wants to repeat the year" NOPE. FUCK THAT. END OF FUCKING STORY. You do not get to CHOOSE TO REPEAT A YEAR!!!! FUCK THAT FUCK THAT FUCK THAT!!! WHY ARE THESE IDIOTS NOT QUESTIONING THIS!?!? Wow, the speech impediment that didn't exist until recently, truly a "brilliant reason" for her to want to be held back WHICH IS NOT A THING THAT HAPPENS. And another sign of Mrs. Mendeleev being just as useless as Damocles in that she doesn't oppose a child apparently sabotaging her own education.

And NOW we get the class reacting to the news!! How will the writers fuck THIS up, I wonder?

"You sure you didn't get mine by mistake?" Kim saying that would be funny if it weren't for the sheer stupidity of the teachers and Damocles apparently being dumb enough to just buy Lila's bullshit at face value AND Miss Bustier doing NOTHING to actually oppose it!!! Oh, and another Dumb Blonde joke, but this time it's Rose who's the butt of it.

And whatever drama this should result in gets sidetracked by what looks to be Juleka getting Akumatized. Let's see if that'll actually go through with it or if they'll bring back the Resistance's bullshit "tactics" again. Also, why is Gabe/Hawkmoth acting like he's got this history of akumatizing people during Teacher Rep Meetings when this is the first time these have ever even been MENTIONED?

And the magical charm proves to be immediately useless! Who didn't see that coming, show of hands!

And it's Reflekta again. UGH. Also, them trying to act as if not being (verbally) understood or listened to is a recurring problem with Juleka falls flat when she's never had this speech impediment prior to this season. Her issue was being SEEN, not HEARD, dumbass writers. Yup, they are using the dumb tactics, and putting themselves in danger in the process. Kiddies, it's WAY TOO FUCKING LATE FOR THAT.

Huh, they actually bothered to give an old Akuma an improved version of their prior power!! Now if only it wasn't the Akuma LEAST USEFUL TO GETTING THE MIRACULOUSES!!! Also, the fact that their classmates didn't immediately run when they saw that the Akuma was Reflekta, especially since this one operates as a hive mind it seems. It's also kinda stupid that they are trying to tie Reflekta's powers of image copying with the motivation of "staying with her friends" since it just plain DOES NOT FIT REFLEKTA AS AN AKUMA.

This plan is even stupider than normal. Not only was the Akuma taken out in less than a handful of minutes, they basically just got lucky that they took out the "real Reflekta." This was a waste of time.

Now back to the school, where Alya and the rest ask Lila what happened at the conference. SURELY this isn't a plot, SURELY this isn't all a trick- Oh who am I kidding, of course it is. Yup, Lila immediately passes the blame onto Marinette. And Chloe immediately pulls out the fact that Marinette's the only one with an unaltered form as "proof" that this is all her fault, and Lila says it's all because they voted her to be Class Rep. Wow, what a "brilliant plan."

Marinette immediately points out the obvious flaw in her being the one to make the fake forms. And when Lila tries to flip it on her, Marinette calls out Sabrina, who Chloe shoves in front of herself. HOW the class can't smell that this is staged, I have no clue whatsoever. AND SABRINA FINALLY GROWS A SPINE!! WHOOPDY-FUCKING-DOO!! WHO GIVES A SHIT!? IT'S TOO LITTLE TOO LATE TO GROW A FUCKING CONSCIENCE WHEN YOU'VE BEEN ACTING AS IF YOU'VE NEVER DONE ANY WRONG UP UNTIL NOW!!!

And Chloe, because of course they are still keeping her the dumb one, loudly calls Sabrina a traitor and says that "wasn't the plan." Lila tries to run damage control... by immediately throwing SABRINA under the bus and claiming that Sabrina is the liar, and was "just being used by Marinette." Seriously, CHLOE ADMITTED THAT THIS WAS THEIR PLAN!!! HOW STUPID IS THIS!? EXTREMELY STUPID!!! Also, wow, calling Marinette a "Civilian Monarch." She isn't even trying anymore.

And Sabrina, no, she is not turning everything you say against you, she's lying. Turning what you say against you is when you repeat what someone says in a way that means differently from what they intend. What she's doing is lying, blatantly, calling you a liar, and trying to gaslight you into going along with what she wants, and she's not being even remotely subtle about it. WHY ARE NONE OF THEIR CLASSMATES REACTING TO THIS!? WHY!?!?!

Yeesh, even if you ignore how stupid and blatant Lila's lies are, this is genuinely creepy how she's openly trying to gaslight and badger Sabrina into doing what she wants and agreeing with her. It's sincerely disturbing to see her being this fucking obvious.

Also, it's kinda weird how Sabrina emphasizes that her dad is a policeman.

And after Sabrina runs off, Chloe literally tells Sabrina to 'heel,' like a dog. THAT'S the Miraculous they think suits Sabrina best... how nauseating. No joke, this part of the episode is making me sick to my stomach.

Wow, a classic "I'll have my dad fire you(r dad)" threat from Chloe. Haven't heard one of those in awhile.

And after Lila begins bragging about how great of a liar she is (SHE REALLY ISN'T PEOPLE!!!), and threatens Sabrina, Sabrina springs her trap and reveals she engineered a public confession. This would be cathartic if it weren't TOTALLY STUPID HOW LONG LILA'S LIES HAVE BEEN MAINTAINED BY PEOPLE TAKING HER AT FACE VALUE OVER ALL ELSE!!!!

Yadda yadda yadda, Sabrina grew a conscience and revealed everything to Marinette, acting as if she hasn't tried to gleefully ruin lives and damage reputations at Chloe's behest before. And they seriously built an entire fake bathroom with a one-way window-mirror thing just to catch her. How obnoxious. Seriously, all they did was put up a "bathroom busted" sign and that was enough, and the school never tried to call a plumber or something!? THIS IS STUPID!!! They should've been aware this ENTIRE TIME that the actual bathroom was perfectly fine, making this entire plan of Marinette's as sound as a pile of SAND!!!

"I'll fix everything." Fix WHAT!? By all accounts you just faked the bathrooms being out of order, switched out a mirror for a back-up bathroom that never needed making and thus probably cost the school quite a pretty penny to make, and wasted several school hours by enabling Lila's idiotic plan involving those orientation forms WHICH SHOULD NOT HAVE ACTUALLY BEEN THAT BIG OF A FUCKING DEAL!!!

Caline says they owe Marinette an apology, they kinda do. They also probably deserve to be fired since they've shown nothing but raw, unfettered ineptitude THIS ENTIRE FUCKING SEASON AND EVERY EPISODE INVOLVING LILA!!! Wow, Chloe actually bothered acting on one of her threats to call her father!! TOO BAD THAT HER DAD DOESN'T HAVE THE POWER TO GET RID OF DAMOCLES!! I agree he needs to go, but Andre doesn't have the power to do that. Mayor of the year, people, Mayor of the fucking year.

I'm just tuning out the rest of this, since it's basically Damocles FINALLY bothering to act like a proper educator and Andre going back to his Season 1 days of being a slimeball politician that throws his weight around to keep his daughter's image clean. Oh, and it looks like the only reason he went along with it was because Audrey was coercing him with her present, CLEARLY they are "in love," and this isn't downplaying Andre being a self-serving spineless leech. Heck, this makes him MORE of a spineless leech since he's getting pushed around by Audrey FOR NO FUCKING REASON.

"Now you're not getting fired either!" Audrey, he's your husband, not an employee, and he has more authority than you. Fuck this bullshit.

And the entire class rallying around Damocles would be more touching if he weren't a fucking joke of a principal on every level. We also see the Magic Charms FINALLY BE FUCKING USEFUL!! Who knows, maybe this unknown until now power will actually be fucking relevant... yeah, I don't believe it either.

Yadda yadda yadda, character shilling for Damocles by acting as if he's always been a good principal and not a fucking joke with no spine. And now we get the scene of Caline joining the "Chloe is pure evil and always has been, so there's no point in trying to change her, point and scorn her as nothing but trash" club. And we get a "I thought you could change if people reached out to you!" speech which acts as if the token gestures that never went anywhere were really meaningful attempts to reform her, blech. And Caline's "punishment" for Chloe is literally just the "extra help" she said Chloe would need last episode reframed as a threat. Idiotic. And apparently Lila has an entirely separate identity as "Cerise" on top of her somehow tricking three women into believing she's her daughter and HOW MUCH FUCKING MORE DO THE WRITERS PLAN ON SHILLING HER AS THIS MASTER MANIPULATOR!? BECAUSE SHE AIN'T ONE!! SHE IS A TEENAGE GIRL WITH FUCKING DELUSIONS OF GRANDEUR!! GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!!!

[purplehyacinthriver]

Aesop Sharp [Mood board] - From my Fanfiction "Shadow of Legacy: A Hogwarts Legacy Sequel available on AO3 and Wattpad.

━━━━━━♥━━━━━━

Upon reaching the door, she grasped the handle and flung it open, nearly colliding with Aesop, who stood just beyond, wearing an expression of equal surprise.

“Aesop, I—” she began, breath catching as she struggled to articulate her thoughts, the weight of their earlier frustrations lingering in the air between them.

“Merith,” he replied softly, his voice a low, warm whisper that anchored her in place. She had never heard him utter her name with such tenderness before; it sent a flutter through her chest, her heartbeat echoing so loudly she feared it could be heard throughout the classroom.

Aesop stood framed in the doorway, illuminated by ethereal moonlight streaming through the window. Something about him appeared exquisite beneath the cool glow of night. Tugging self-consciously at her dressing gown, Merith felt uncertain about how to begin.

“I’m sorry; it seems I keep losing my temper with you. While I still disagree, Aesop, I will heed your warning. But hear me now, I am no silly girl.” Her voice steadied as she found the strength to meet his gaze. Their eyes locked, and a shared understanding began to bridge the gap the earlier confrontation had created.

“I must confess, I acted rather boorishly myself, exceedingly ungentlemanly,” he said lightly, a hint of jest creeping into his tone as he clasped her hands in his. “I regret my remark about your naivety—there are matters I am not at liberty to disclose, aspects of the situation you understandably lack awareness of.

It was unkind of me to wield that against you. My words, though perhaps too blunt, were born from concern for your well-being; I genuinely wish to protect you from harm.” His tone shifted, growing serious, and she felt the weight of his sincerity wash over her.

[ask-blindspot-aesop]

A letter for blindspot has arrived!

Dear Aesop,

It's been a while since I've last wrote you. How's life going? And how's school? Surely you've found more kind people to talk to. You are a good kid, after all.

As Christmas is just around the corner, I couldn't help but wonder how you celebrate. Do you like the festivity? Surely there's something you'd wish for Santa to give you, so don't forget to write him a letter!

— Sincerely, Four

"O-Oh..! H-Hello again.. Life's been.. S-Surprisingly very quiet.. T-There hasn't been anything much going on recently. Ah, d-do you really think I'm a good kid..? Do good kids usually get bullied relentlessly..? One would think not, that it would be the bad kids who get bullied.. S-So I must really be bad, to them at least.."

"A-Ah, Christmas.. I-I do like the holiday, yes, a-although I get nervous around all the quests mother invites.. A-As for what I want from Santa Claus.. I'm.. N-Not sure if he could grant it.."

[studyinglogic]

— ...there was a time when writing was my joy, when I wrote for fun. But after what's happened, there's been a vague sense of guilt about it. I can write, but each time I try to I feel like I don't deserve to.

— Well, I mean leans back in his chair you know that's not true, right.

— Yes, yes. It's a stumbling block.

— Maybe what's tough is getting started. You used to have that online blog, didn't you? How many drafts do you have on there?

— Oh, I don't know. A lot. Let me check. [beat] Six thousand seven hundred and forty.

— Good God. What's stopping you?

(Option A. — I fear society. You know, judgment on my work.

— If you can't be weird on your own blog, where can you be? Look, maybe ... [C])

(Option B. — Alan Watts titled his autobiography "In My Own Way." I quite like that title, because it has a double meaning. He's doing things in his own way, of course, but he's also getting in his own way. And it implies that the two are linked. That his faults and imperfections are linked to what makes him unique.

— Even if everyone was self-actualised, I'm sure that there'd be a wide variety of people. But let's stick to the topic; what was the point of bringing up Watts?

— Oh, you know. I'm getting in my own way, in my own way. And there's a meta-point here. I have so much, and it's just hard to get a handle on all of it.

— Look, maybe ... [C])

[C, see, si, sea, the third synthesis, cf. Kant's footnote]

— Look, maybe you need to find the joy of writing in a low-stakes environment. Something that doesn't pressure you too much. Your online blog is low-stakes enough, I think. You have six thousand seven hundred and forty drafts. Let's say ninety percent of that is crap. That's still enough to last you more than a year if you post once a day. Just post for joy. If you like it. Get used to doing things which you enjoy. Take yes for an answer. Easy easy. No need to make the posts serious or high-pressure, even in your own head. Post things even if they're not great. Start by being imperfect. End by being imperfect.

— That's the spirit. Genius arrests decay. You've been writing yourself, haven't you?

— Here and there. That's all we can do, isn't it. Write ourselves into our work?

— Heh sincere laughter for a good ten seconds good one, but you know what's not what I meant. What have you been writing?

— Oh, fables.

— Excellent. What type of fables? Kafka or Aesop?

— Closer to Kafka than Aesop. That reminds me, you know those videos, what are they called, the ones where people ask, would you love me if I was a worm. Does anyone reference Kafka's "Metamorphosis" there?

— I don't know. I don't watch them. I'm amazed you even know about them. I didn't know about them. Anyway, who have you been reading lately?

— Cormac McCarthy. That's how I got the idea of writing fables. Fables are simple; they show the world "as it is." An illusion, or perhaps just a part, of course, but they're compelling in that way. And I know McCarthy's work isn't usually thought of as a fable, but in fables there's often lots of senseless violence skated over. And perhaps if you see some of his work as dreamlike...

[long pause]

— Continue?

— Sorry, I don't know what I'm saying. But I guess that's how it is. One day I'll get there.

— One day I'll get there.

[ask-luckyguy-idv]

Dear Lucky,

what do you think of their veterans?

sincerely, letter anon

(∴⊗-⊗∴) “Emma, Freddy, and Emily? Those three?…

Emmas really sweet!! Shes my best friend! I like going on walks with her through the manor garden and just catching up on things…

I don’t think I’ve spoken to Freddy that much, so I don’t really have an opinion on him… I know he did something but its kept kinda vauge… which, fair… Its not really any of my business.

Emily!… Emilys really busy working the manor infirmary, she never really has time to talk. But when we do, she always seems really down on herself. I try and assure her shes just doing her best, but I… Don’t think she really believes me”.

(´⊗ゝ⊗`) “She should allow me into the infirmary occasionally. I could help.”

(∴⊗-⊗∴) “Uh… I don’t think you have the right medical license to do so, Aesop. She pointed out one time you didn’t know how to do basic CPR…”

(´⊗ゝ⊗`) “I could help them. She just needs to trust me.”

(∴⊗-⊗∴) “Aha… Uh… Maybe not yet- or.. ever.”

[bronze-bell]

(This time, the letter is on off-white paper, a deep red, ornate border surrounding the words, with the same color ink used to write the words within.)

Dear Victor Grantz,

That does make sense. When unexpected bonds form, people get curious about how. And when they start asking questions, they might start looking for answers too closely for either of our likings. I'd hate for that to happen.

That might be wise, especially to have us all in one place. The temporary nature helps in many aspects, of course. Of course there's a recovery period—you did still die, and you need to get back into shape from all that. I don't know how well I'll do, but I'll try to pull you out of any painful loops you fall, or are pushed, into.

There are many strange things about being able to talk to someone again. To know that someone wants me around. To be truthful, I know how it feels to struggle with being around people, and yet to be forced to exist near them, to be palatable to them all the same. I couldn't do that to you. Pardon me, I... didn't quite understand what you meant. "A mute who can speak"... and even then they didn't let you? Apologies if I'm misunderstanding.

It's... really just what I felt was right to do. If someone tells me something and I have knowledge of what to say about it, I may as well tell them. I've been back and forth on pulling someone aside for a while now, he reminds me of my younger self far too much... I can't say from experience, but... considering the nature of mortality, even if it's different here, I can imagine it's terrifying. Not only from Aesop's and your words, but just the very concept.

Thank you for clearing that up, I will keep that in mind. I suppose there's a certain way of speaking that gave me the impression... and yes, disputes of... many kinds can happen when people are close for long enough.

That is... very good to know, thank you. Putting my faith in you from that first letter was a decision I cannot regret. Loyalty is a risk, a virtue that can go too far. I'll keep you safe. If we're all in the cast, let us all find our true roles and enjoy them. I would do no such thing to you. I won't let you feel abandoned again.

It's quite all right. As you said, we're all lonely here. Maybe we can be less lonely together. You gave me such patience when we met in person last time, I'd be rude not to give you the same.

Sincerely,

Frederick

The letter set is decorated with black music notes against off-white paper. The seal bears a bass clef. Victor's footsteps are hesitant to leave the door, but they do eventually.

[Dear Frederick,

Indeed, questions are quite terrifying. Knowing someone is watching your every past present and future move, scouring your life so thoroughly with their persecuting eyes, is not a good experience at all. I would know. There's so many strange connections in this place that we should be safe, though. I hope.

When will you be okay to meet? It really doesn't take more than an hour or two to recover, thankfully, but it seems that's mainly because it takes quite a while to revive. It appears that most of the healing is done before waking up. You are too kind to me. They could hurt you too, you know.

Of course I want you around, you're wonderful. Indeed, it is strange to get to talk to anyone at all, especially somebody who is so kind about all my strangeness, as much as I try and fail to minimise it. I could never do good in a crowd, and you seem to at least be able to tolerate it. For that I'm proud of you.]

The writing is shaky here. Very shaky. You can almost feel the fear radiating off of it. Each paragraph cuts off suddenly, a moment of lucidity in raging grief.

[That's what he said. Someone as easily scared to silence as a postman can still be threatened by its permanence and they always went through with threats —

I don't know what i did but soon I was a liability and they hated me and it all went wrong I just wanted to do my job why —

There's too many of them and too little of us, I was the only one left after rivals found us and they took advantage of —

I'm sorry. I'm scared. Please don't hurt me.]

The writing stops here. Many, many tears stain the paper below. The hand is forced into a neater style, but it's still clearly shaking.

[if you pull anyone aside, it should be him. You seem to be friends.

Death is scary, certainly. I can only hope any death I come to here is swift and merciful like his. I don't think I could handle it if it wasn't either treated with care or over quickly.

I am glad my loyalty is rewarded. Please keep me safe please be trustworthy I believe I have found my role as a postman rather than a "postman", but I'm not sure if I'm able to play it. Thank you. For everything.

I would like to meet up with you as soon as possible, if that's alright. I can't look at any more letters today.

Regards.

Postman]