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toms-cherry-trees · 2 years ago

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"Lessons" || Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: When your husband's attempts at tutoring you fail, he is forced to seek less orthodox ways

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Innuendo, teasing, edging and denial, thigh riding, overstimulation, ass slapping, titty slapping, titty succin, fingering, p in v sex, degradation, breeding kink if you squint, bad teaching techniques

Author’s note: No excuses here. Credits to Sarah @aemondsbabe for the HORN and massive thanks to Miranda @solisarium for the beta read! Requested tag: @marthawrites

Header by the beautiful lovely @ewanmitchellcrumbs

Your desperate whimpers and heavy gasps disrupt the silence of the chamber, mixed with the crackling of the logs in the hearth and the rhythmic drumming of your husband’s fingers against the armrest of his seat. He looks so smug and relaxed, leaning back on the chair, his feet well planted on the floor; a heavy, leather bound tome rests on the table beside him, open in the same page it has been for over a fortnight now.

His index taps three times on the book, pointing at a fairly simple written word, but in your brain it reads like the most complex of riddles. Endless hours your husband has devoted to educate you in the beauty and magic of the Valyrian tongue. There would be no greater pride for him than to have his perfect little wife speak the words of his forefathers, to hear the ancient language roll effortlessly out of her beautiful mouth and whisper before others words only for her to comprehend. Yet you quickly proved to be as thick as you are beautiful, and no effort nor technique could get you past the most basics of vocables. This forced him to seek new methods of instruction, which he implemented with utmost enthusiasm and methodic dedication.

You currently are the perfect image of depravity. Your smallclothes lay in a careless heap at his feet, hair free of the intricate style and flowing freely, flyaway strands sticking to your damp forehead and temple. Your robe hangs loosely from your shoulders, giving you a weak resemblance of modesty. The skirt of the nightgown is rucked above your hips, allowing Aemond a prime view as you drag your soaked folds along his clothed thigh, desperately seeking a climax he knows all too well you cannot achieve like that. He knows your thighs tire too soon, he knows you can’t ever get the angle right. But this is the only touch you are allowed until you learn your lessons.

His questions don’t make it to your ears, unable to hear anything above your own broken moans. The first days you tried to comply and learn, to give in your best to please him in that way. But your best efforts melted into naught when he teased you night after night, trailing touches along your skin that ignited fire in your lower belly, only to cruelly deny you while he sought his release in the warmth of your mouth instead of where you needed him the most.

The motion of your hips stutters as your thighs begin to burn from exertion. Your fingers dig on the flesh of his arms for support, legs shifting just enough to seek a new angle, to find the right pressure you need. But you cannot fool yourself; you need his help.

“Please. Husband, I need you.” Your words are pleading, desire and desperation lacing your tone; your eyes wide and innocent, batting your eyelashes. But your helplessness only amuses Aemond, the corner of his mouth raised on a half smirk. Warm and calloused hands slip the robe off your shoulders and the nightgown away from your frame, leaving you bare before his heated gaze.

“Say it like I taught you, ābrazȳrītsos, and I may consider giving you a little reward.” His thumb brushes across the peaks of your breasts, nipples stiffening immediately at the gentle stimulation. Your nerves are frayed and every gesture pushes you closer to the edge. He rolls the hardened buds between index and thumb, drawing another mewl from your sweet lips, back arching to offer more of your bosom to his touch. Your core throbs in sync with your heart, arousal coating your inner thighs and having left a damp patch in the fabric of his breeches. You rack your brain to find the words he wishes to hear, but it seems your head has been emptied of all thought and logic, leaving only raw and primal desire, an almost animalistic instinct to sate your hunger.

Aemond is quick to pick up the almost dazed look in your eyes, chuckling in delight at your inability to form a coherent thought, all because of him. He brushes his thumb alongside the plushness of your bottom lip, pushing inside your mouth just enough for you to wrap your lips around it and suck dutifully, swirling your tongue around like you had his manhood in you.

“My pretty little wife, so needy for her husband's cock she can't even answer one simple question. Humping and sucking like a wanton whore.”

You whimper around his digit, his words fanning the fire between your legs into a raging inferno. He withdraws his thumb from your mouth, slowly sliding it down your body, leaving behind a shining trail of your saliva. His hand halts just above your mound, darkened eye watching in satisfaction the slight and involuntary buck of your hips, seeking his touch anywhere you can get it. A light swat to your thigh makes you yelp, but the sting is easily forgotten as Aemond’s lips trace the line of your collarbone, settling on the juncture between shoulder and neck and gently sucking at the skin.

With unsurprising ease, Aemond shifts your body until your knees rest on both sides of his legs, your drenched cunt hovering above the tight bulge straining his breeches, almost feeling the heat radiating from it. You swallow thickly, whining loudly as he undoes the lacings and frees his thick cock from the confines of the garments. Fingers wrapped around his girth, he teases the head through your slick folds a few times. Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, entire body tense and trembling with the effort to not grind against him. You know better than to test your luck when he is being so generous.

“Ñuhus litses ābrazȳrītsos, so wanton and needy for aōhe valzȳrys. Can’t get that beautiful head of yours to work until I fix that problem between your delicious thighs.”

His free hand sneaks between your legs, tracing agonisingly slow circles around your throbbing pearl, making you shudder. You see how much your easily triggered reactions entertain him, the fair lilac of his eye darkened to a purple hue. You are desperate for him, but he is equally delirious for you, that much you can tell when he brings his fingers to his mouth to taste your arousal, his cock twitching in response. You can only hope his need is enough to give in to you.

Two fingers shallowly breach your entrance up to the first knuckle, his thumb pressing down firmly on your pearl while he gauges your reaction. Your eyes squeeze shut and your head falls back, nails digging in your palms, lips parting to elicit a breathy moan. Another question comes to you, but the words never register, and incoherent babbling is all you can gather as a reply. The sharp smack delivered against the supple flesh of your arse snaps you back to your senses, feeling the light sting spread across your skin.

“Eyes on me, kēlītsos. Until I get what I want from those pretty lips of yours, you do as I say. You don’t get to escape me.”

He pelts you with question after question you cannot answer, each failure punished with sharp slaps on your ass, breasts and thighs; some gentle like a caress, others strong enough to make you hiss through your teeth. In between smacks he continues the sweet torture, his touch on you so tender and featherlight it feels like it is just in your imagination. Every time he senses you getting too worked up, he pinches your clit tightly, pulling sharp cries from you intertwined with pleas for mercy.

“Please, husband, please. I can’t hold it anymore. Please,,” You sob, your fingers digging into his shoulders to emphasise your words, and you make a tentative roll of your hips against his hand, hoping he will take pity on your pathetic current state.

He clicks his tongue, the back of his hand dabbing at some tears you hadn’t noticed pooling at the corners of your eyes. Large hands cup your cheeks, thumbs caressing your cheekbones; you lean into his touch instinctively, eyes fluttering close as you take slow breaths to try and regain some control over yourself.

“Dumb little lady you are. So beautiful and so silly. Your head is filled with nothing but flowers and filth.” The slight degradation should sting and wound your pride, but all it does is send a fresh wave of arousal straight to your cunt. “Can’t write Valyrian, can’t read it, not even say the simplest of words without getting all tongue tied. All you are good for is to take Valyrian seed deep in your womb and help spread my bloodline. You would like that, ilībītsos, having my seed take root inside you and grow round and heavy with my children, your breasts full of milk for my heirs. All you know how to do, no?”

You can’t help it, you nod eagerly at his words, hoping this means he will finally relent and allow you release. And it seems all your prayers will be answered when you feel him line the tip of his cock with your awaiting entrance, meeting no resistance as he sinks into you, stopping halfway and delivering yet another smack upon your arse to spur you on like a stubborn mare.

“Ride me.”

You swallow at the command. Your legs are aching still and your energies are weaning, but the promise of putting an end to this most delicious misery is enough to fuel you. You do nothing to stifle your moans as you rock your hips, feeling in you will not last. The hot coil tightens in your belly at a dizzying speed, so taut you feel ready to snap. Wet sounds fill the chamber and your walls flutter around him, breaths coming in short pants. It is so close you can taste it, the one thing you have been so cruelly denied and so ravenously crave. His hand caresses the length of your spine, from the curve of your ass up to between your shoulders. He cradles the back of your neck and pushes your head forward so your forehead rests on his shoulder and his lips are against your ear.

“Stop.”

Aemond’s voice cuts through you like a sword, eyes shooting open and a broken sob coming from your lips. Every nerve urges you to ignore his command and chase your climax, but you don’t. You do as you’re told, letting your body rest in his lap. He questions you again, but you don’t even try to find an answer. You only shake your head, tears beading in your eyelashes while you press tender kisses on the skin of his collarbone. He waits until he feels your body relax, your grip on him loosening.

“Continue.”

Again you try your best, ignoring the cramps of your muscles and the dull pain of your knees against the chair. And once more, Aemond commands you to stop every time he feels you clenching around him. Each time it is harder to stop, but you do it nevertheless. Not once he tries to restrain you himself, because he knows his good girl does as she is told. Even as the tears run freely down your cheeks and pitiful sobs are the only sound you are capable of.

“Please.” The quiet, barely audible plea is muffled against his neck, your face burrowed there as exhaustion threatens to overcome you. Your body feels tense like a bowstring, waiting for the smallest of gestures to let go. Your cunt throbs around him, his length and your thighs coated in warm slick. You remain denied yet your pearl is so overworked it feels almost painful to the touch. All ruined for him, without having been allowed a single peak.

“Daor.” He purrs against your neck, nibbling at the skin as he takes hold of your hips, thrusting into you tantalisingly slowly, burying himself to the hilt in your warm heat and withdrawing until only the head remains, making you feel every inch of him. He steadily picks up the pace, alternating between long strokes and shallow thrust, fast and then slow again. He roams your body, kneading your thighs and squeezing your ass, fingertips tracing the dip of your waist and the curve of the hips. His lips capture a nipple, rolling it between his teeth and sucking with gentle pressure, lapping at the pebbled nub.

You are absolutely overwhelmed, losing control of your bearings as the pleasure comes and goes in powerful waves, barely letting you catch breath before threatening to drown you again, never taking you to one extreme or the other. For moments you want it to stop, but you are sure to die if it does. You no longer remember what brought you to this moment. But amidst the fog clouding your mind you manage to scramble out a single word.

“Kostilus.”

His movements come to a halt, and you can practically feel the wicked smirk against the flesh of your breast. He takes his time to leave a trail of open mouthed kisses round your breast and up your chest, trailing the line of your collarbone to your neck, finally settling on your ear. Aemond gives the earlobe a quick nip, while one hand slowly snakes between your conjoined bodies to circle your pearl once more.

“Sȳz riña.”

Your body slackens against him as he picks up speed, already teetering on the edge. It takes no more than a couple powerful thrusts for you to peak, sinking your teeth into his flesh as you scream your release into him, whole body spasming as the waves of blinding pleasure wash over you, filling your veins with a fuzzy feeling you cannot explain, but is as if your soul has elevated to the heavens and left your body behind. It seems you black out for a moment, for when you regain your surroundings once more Aemond has you cradled against his chest, your robe thrown over you to keep you warm. He caresses your back, the soothing motion lulling you back to sleep. Through the grogginess you hear him whisper in your ear

“This is but the first lesson.”

ābrazȳrītsos - little wife

Ñuhus litses ābrazȳrītsos - my pretty little wife

aōhe valzȳrys - your husband

kēlītsos - little kitten

ilibitsos - little slut

daor - no

kostilus - please

Syz riña - good girl

#aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen one shot #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x wife #aemond one eye #aemond kinslayer #house of the dragon #aemond stannies #marsie writes

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slutforsilverfoxes · 2 years ago

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Devil in Disguise

[A/N: Let's just pretend this isn't like two weeks overdue, mmkay?]

🎃🖤🎃🖤🎃🖤🎃🖤🎃🖤

Request: Jethro Gibbs x female reader (possession, brat/brat tamer dynamic)

“Tell me you’re not wearing that right now.”

Pressing your phone closer to one ear and your finger into the other, you say, “What? It’s so loud hear, Jay, I can’t hear you.”

“I said-”

“Hang on.” Snagging a fresh beer from the cooler, you pass your favorite colleague on your way to the balcony and mouth, It’s Jethro, by way of an explanation for your absence for the next few minutes. She nods in understanding before throwing you an exaggerated wink, and you indulge in a smile back. “Okay,” you breathe once out in the fresh air. Music is still pumping from inside the building, but it’s at a much more reasonable level with the door closed behind you. “What’s up, baby?”

“What’s up? What’s up?”

“Mhm,” you respond easily, masking your delighted giggle with a pull from your beer.

“I found your little… gift,” he grumbles. “That’s what’s up.”

“You like it?”

He peruses the Polaroids spread out across the coffee table featuring you in a “Halloween costume” -that, to him, looks better suited for roleplay in the bedroom- in various suggestive positions. You had been kind enough to sneak the stack into Jethro’s current nightly read so that the photos would fall out as he settled into the couch to pass the time before you returned home.

“What do you think, brat?” he growls lightly, pulling one photo of you kneeling before the mirror in your bedroom closer to admire the way your lacy red lingerie peeks out from beneath your white skirt.

You hum in mock contemplation on the other end of the line before settling on, “Sounds like you like ‘em a lot.”

“I want to take you over my lap for wearing it out of the house without me there to ward off any straying eyes. And then I want to rip it off with my teeth.”

You inhale a sharp breath, then produce a dumbfounded albeit excited, “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh. When are you coming home?”

“A few hours?” you guess. “I didn’t expect your case to wrap up tonight.”

He grunts by way of a response, ever the poet. Then, “Are you having fun at least?”

An idea pops into your head, and you grin to yourself. “Not as much fun as I could be having, but yes. I’ll see you at home, okay? Love you, handsome.”

“Call me when you’re ready for me to come get you,” he says, one of his many versions of I love you. “See you later, honey.”

After catching up with your coworkers and downing some more liquid courage, you sneak off to the nearest bathroom, securely closing and locking the door behind you. You hike your leg up on the counter to show off your lacy underwear and tug your top down enough to free your tits from the confines of your push-up bra before snapping a picture with an angelic smile to complement your all-white outfit and wings.

You type out, If only I had a strong, sturdy gunnery sergeant to teach me a lesson about respecting my elders… and send your text off with a sly grin before righting yourself and returning to the party.

You can’t help checking your phone and watching the minutes tick by without a response, wondering if your old man is upset with your bratty teasing- or if he even managed to open the attachment on his ancient device.

When you look up from checking your phone for the twelfth time in as many minutes, you find your friend’s eyes widening comically as she quietly announces, “Boyfriend at six o’clock and he does not look happy.”

Before you can even process her words, you find yourself hoisted into the air, your angel wings flapping in protest as you settle over Jethro’s solid shoulder. “Took you long enough,” you huff with faux indignance. Even without looking, he knows your lips are turned downward in a pout and your arms are crossed.

“Yeah?” he rumbles out, waiting until you’ve exited the building and are away from prying eyes to land a firm smack to your ass. You let out a yelp and he asks, “This what you wanted?”

“Pretty much,” you admit, shooting him a cheeky grin when he lays you down across the backseat of his truck before climbing in between your spread legs.

Jethro shakes his head with a laugh, plucking a stray feather from your fake wings off his shoulder. Then he leans down and captures your lips in a searing kiss, and you can’t help but moan and buck up against him in response. “Need you,” you whine, using the collar of his polo shirt as leverage to pull him closer.

“I know,” he soothes quietly, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth while his fingers hook into your panties to tug them down your legs. His eyes grow a shade darker when you squirm beneath him with a whimper, the dim overhead car light reflecting in the wetness coating your upper thighs. “But first I need to teach my little angel a lesson about respecting her elders.”

#kinktober #sf2 takes on kinktober #kinktober 2023 #i'm so sorry this took so long #jethro gibbs #jethro gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs smut #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #leroy jethro gibbs smut #leroy jethro gibbs #leroy jethro gibbs x female reader #leroy jethro gibbs x you #leroy jethro gibbs x y/n #jethro gibbs x female reader #jethro gibbs x you #jethro gibbs x y/n #gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs imagine #leroy jethro gibbs imagine

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lorre-verie · 1 year ago

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heyyyy there, how are you? was just thinkinggg 😝🧟 ---

may I please request an enemies to lovers ao'nung x fem!metkayina!reader fic where reader ventures out beyond the reef with bestie tsireya in their rarely found free time in order to decompress from their stressful routines --- evident in readers duties of teaching the young many things like weaving and breathing, helping ronal collect medicinal resources, and tsireya being tsakarem. reader vents about ao'nung being a pain and how hard she's pining for him regardless and tsireya, being all knowing, tries to hint to reader about ao'nungs feelings. some more banter before reya rushes off to meet with lo'ak for their date. not long after tsireya leaves, readers gets attacked and badly injured in the leg by something (I can't think of anything 💀) and rushes back to awa'atlu riding an ilu, bleeding out, where ao'nung (previously training) takes notice of her limping out of the water barely conscious. ao'nung rushes to her, reader collapsing in his arms, ao'nung delivering a cutsie little panicked "don't worry, im not gonna let anything to happen to you, 'm gonna take care of you" just before readers loses consciousness 😝😝😝😝 perhaps some cutie fluffy tearful confessions after she wakes in ronals healing marui

“Living, breathing, nightmare.”

word count: 4.4k

pairings: aonung x fem!metkayina!reader

author notes: - the prompt IS enemies to lovers so i decided to make it a HEAAVY emphasis on the enemies part of that (😏), so this is gonna be a wild ass ride. love you for this request, thanks for bringing me back onto this platform, anon! - 2nd person (love it too much) - NO you are not short you’re a little taller than tsireya but aonung is just a tall mf

masterlist

“So, they hate each other?” Ewie asked curiously, her curiosity piqued as her gaze remained fixed on the two na’vi bickering aways from her and the tsakarem-to-be of her clan.

“...Not exactly,” Tsireya answered, grimacing.

She sighed, patting the little one’s back, who stood there confused and still staring, eyes wide as seashells. Tsireya knelt down on one knee atop the damp, warm sand, offering the little girl a reassuring smile as she reached out to place her hand to Ewie’s shoulder, encouraging her to meet Tsireya’s gaze. “Why don’t you go on and play with your friends now, Ewie? You can resume your lessons with [name] tomorrow,” she said softly, promptly turning her head to smile at Ewie’s friends who ran wildly across the coast, screaming and jumping joyously.

The little girl’s eyes brightened as she looked at her group of friends, one of the boys in particular waving her over to join. She let out a small excited squeal, her mind now totally torn away from the sight of you and aonung, running to join them. Tsireya smiled as she watched Ewie scamper away, leaving only the older girl and the ocean in her wake. For Tsireya, now was one of the calm moments that no one could take away from her.

She inhaled, the ocean breeze carrying a freshness that was tinged with the ancient salt of countless tides. Its age-old whispers danced through the air, brushing against her skin with a coolness that– if she concentrated enough, she could almost hear….yes…Eyw-

“You are an ABSOLUTE NIGHTMARE!” Your voice pierced through her thoughts, her ears flattening as she winced.

She whipped her head around to look at you and aonung in what seemed to be a private, yet full-blown war between the two of you, Aonung laughing in your face as you gave him a piece of your mind.

She let out a breath to calm herself. Happy thoughts…happy thoughts…she repeated in her mind as to not kick both you and her older brother in the back of the knees.

“Yet I still show up in your dreams every night, eh?” he smirked even wider at you (if that was even possible).

To that, you didn’t know whether you wanted to scream, cry, cringe, throw up, or shove a kick so far up his ass he would never be able to talk out of it again.

So you just stared at him silently, your silent screams bouncing off the insides of your body.

He towered over you, seemingly amused by your lack of response.

You hated that. Why did Eywa give the males the unfair advantage in vertical length? (the answer is cause they need it boo or else they’d cry themselves to sleep every night) If you wanted to meet his eyes you would have to give yourself a strained neck, compared to all the other boys your age.

“You…wish.” you said, internally groaning at the less-than-satisfactory response you gave him.

Should’ve been something kickass like “yeah, the haunting presence of your mediocrity,” but of course you’d only think about something like that far later, when it was way too late.

Tsireya walked towards the two of you, making sure to sigh mentally instead of in real life, bracing herself for whatever outlandish thing you two were bickering about now.

“Ah, sister, how kind of you to join us!” aonung raised his eyebrows slightly, “Would you kindly tell your friend here that she would absolutely not hold up in a battle between her and an Akula?”

Before Tsireya could even open her mouth, you scoffed.

“That is not what I said!” you seethed, crossing your arms. He had this tactic of taking whatever you were saying and twisting it so that he’d seem in the right at all times.

“I only said that I’ve been training for it, and I think that I could handle it! And also, that wasn’t even your conversation to listen in on!” and you didn’t want to admit that you were just trying to make yourself seem the teeniest bit more impressive to one of the younger kids you were teaching. In moderation of course!

*record scratch* (for all my lovely readers who’ve no idea/don’t remember what an akula is, that's the scary 3 jawed monster that practically almost killed our boy lo’ak. but that hasn't happened yet in this story)

Tsireya contained her urge to pinch the bridge of her nose, instead resorting to pinching aonung’s wrist, earning a ‘hey!’ from the metkayina while you smirked, satisfied with her response which was clearly a ‘i-don't-want-to-get-into-detail-about-the-topic-of-conversation-but-my-brother-is-incredibly-annoying-and-i-know-that-so-i’ll-just-do-this’ stance, but hey, at least it humbled the gargantuan himbo in front of you, even if by the smallest bit.

“[Name], how about we just get going?” she said, her hand rested on your shoulder, looking at you with an awkward smile.

“Great idea,” you smiled at her, willing to do anything to get away from the disproportionate frog.

Before you could even take a step away, he obviously had to get in his bit.

“Hey wait, where are you two going?” he looked at you both, confusedly.

This was strange for 1 reason.

Why the hell does he care??? He never cared before, so why does he care now???

You turned your head and gave him an annoyed look, while Reya, ever the peacekeeper, answered his question for you.

“We’re going beyond the reef. We want to see if we can catch a glimpse of the nrr payoang migrating for the season.” she said.

And even though she was the one who answered, he kept his eyes fixated on you for a solid extra few seconds, before finally switching to her. What in the motherfu-

“It’s optimal timing. Plus, this is one of the rare occasions where me and [name] are both free at the same time.” she said, smiling brightly. “It must be Eywa clearing the path for us.”

Right then, he smirked.

Oh no.

He was going to say something else to keep your blood above a healthy pressure, wasn’t he?

He looked at you again, and you felt your muscles tense. His mouth opened– no– here it comes– mayday, mayday!

BRACE FOR IMPACT!!!

“I also happen to be free. Can I come along?”

You felt yourself die.

“NO!” you said a little bit too suddenly. “Go find some other people to bother!” you turned on your heel and stomped away from the situation before he could burden your mind further, grumbling at the sheer audacity.

“He literally insulted my capability of surviving like any normal metkayina could, and then he wants to “cOmE AlOnG?” Forget it!” you pressed a wrist into your left eye, trying to rid it of the image of the colossal amphibian as you rode on the ilu with Tsireya by your side, who was dipping gracefully above and below the water on her own ilu.

She emerged from the cerulean blue waves, her hair carrying beads of water in them, before she turned to look at you, back straightening.

“I think he just wanted to spend more time with you, you know.” she suggested, trying her damndest to hint to you what everyone else except literally the two of you could see.

“Ha! As if! The last time I tried to ask him something, he said “don’t talk to me, my people might think that we’re friends.” Like what? Who says that? WHY would he say that?” you started, your ramble being nothing new to your best friend, who only sighed as she dipped a hand into the water as her ilu moved her through it.

Together, you headed to the point where the glowing fish were most spotted, waiting above the water for any signs of movement as you continued on.

“And I do not like him at all, despite what that skxawng Neteyam might say. He’s annoying, loud, obnoxious, and the way he carries himself differently when I’m in the vicinity is dumb. Almost like he’s trying to make himself seem better than me! Who does he think he is, puffing his chest out like a-” hold on.

You went silent, backtracking.

Everytime Aonung noticed you were near, he stood up straighter than usual.

Your mind thought back to all those little moments in flashes. During training, at your cousin's coming-of-age ceremony, the harvest celebration, and today.

He constantly looks at you even if there are others around, but if you look back at him (more like glare), he looks away immediately.

He always initiates the conversation first, even if there’s nothing to talk about.

Okay hold on [name], none of this necessarily means that he likes you.

And then, your whole world came to a stop. You swear even the wind became silent, leaving only you and the sounds of the cool ocean water rippling against your body, the evening painting a blur of pinks and oranges in the sky.

As if she knew every bit of the revelation you just had, Tsireya, who was a little ways in front of you, turned her head, looking at the blank expression on your face.

Am I the one that likes him? you thought to yourself.

No. It couldn’t be. There was no way, no possible way, that this was happening.

“Reya?” you blurted out, your body (and your stupid mouth) acting on instinct.

I mean, she was your best friend. Obviously best friends have to tell each other about their crushes, right?

“I think I like-” you stopped yourself short as you looked at her face.

Her face, which was trying to hold back a smirk.

“Yes, [name]? Do continue?” she said, her tone a lot more singsong than you’d like it to be.

Perhaps telling your best friend that you had a crush on her literal BROTHER wasn’t the best course of action.

Fuuuuuuuuu–

“You know, if you like him, it’s totally alright with me.” she said, shrugging as she turned her head back to the front, smiling as she knew exactly what you’d say next.

“WHAT??” you screamed, startling your ilu, to which you whispered rushed apologies, soothing the back of its neck.

“I’m just happy you’ve finally realised it.” she said, still not turning back, acting as if this was the most normal conversation to have.

“Wha? Who???” you asked, suddenly getting the idea she was having the wrong idea.

“Neteyam.” she said, her tone sarcastic, but unfortunately you were too startled to catch on.

“Hah! You’re wrong, I do not like him.” you said, silently revelling in the relief that she didn’t catch on.

Oh [name]. Sweet, oblivious, [name].

“Yeah I know, that’s why you have a crush on my brother.”

To that, you completely stopped in your tracks, jaw slack open. She’s done it. She’s broken you.

She finally turned around, guiding her ilu to the left so as to block your track.

“He likes you too. And I think you know that already.” she smiled, narrowing her eyes mischievously.

‘For the love of all things good and beautiful, why was this happening to me?’ you screamed on the inside, not wanting to relent.

Okay, if you were denying it, then maybe you actually didn’t like him! Right??

Yeah. That was it. You were giving yourself the delusion of liking him, because he’s the one that liked you first and you felt bad for him, and that’s why you were only considering liking him back.

Wait, does he even like me? What??

“Okay, no, that’s not what I-” and just as you were starting to deny everything, because that was 100% the truth, Tsireya waved you off as she submerged her head in the water, already off her ilu.

You quickly realised what you were here for in the first place, hopping off and following suit, taking a deep breath before you dipped your head below the cool waves.

Deep below the two of you on the surface, you could see hundreds of bioluminescent jellyfish wading in one path, weaving through the floating rocks and plants, the vividness of the glowing colours acting as if a kaleidoscope in your vision.

You had to pull your head out from the water to take another breath, using your hand to push away some of your hair that decided to stick itself onto your face. You were absolutely stunned at the beautiful sight. It took your breath away, literally.

Dipping your head below the surface of the water once more, you decided with Tsireya to take a closer look. You dove your body forwards into the water, Reya following closely behind.

It was quickly becoming darker, night was falling and you knew it was time to turn back, but the jellyfish illuminated your surroundings almost mesmerizingly, as if pulling you into a beautiful vortex.

You hid your body behind a set of rocks, watching the jellyfish swim in their little path, smiling as you watched a small one lag behind the others before a bigger one pushed it forward, practically propelling it through the water as it sputtered around before finding its place again.

Tsireya, who was a little bit above you in the water, turned and dipped her body downwards to touch your shoulder, to signal that it was time to return to the surface and go home before it got too dark.

Her hand was a mere millimetre away from you when a sudden jolt of agony rips through your leg. It's as if a thousand needles pierce your flesh all at once, and panic surges, rising through your veins like wildfire.

Instinctively, you kick and thrash, but the unseen assailant's grip tightens like a vise, dragging you mercilessly downward. Darkness engulfs your senses and you're plunged into a void, robbed of sight and hearing, your lungs screaming for air..

You can’t even see Tsireya anymore, nor the prismatic glow of the jellies.

Bubbles erupt from your lips in frantic bursts, mingling with the surrounding darkness, further obscuring your already impaired vision. Each gasp for air feels like a futile struggle against the inevitable, your chest burning with the agonising need for oxygen. What is this? What is this that’s grabbing you? What is happening? The questions flood your mind and sear the corners of your vision as you're dragged deeper, darkness enveloping you fully.

With each passing second, your panic intensifies. You can't tell which way is up anymore. The ocean presses in around you, a suffocating weight. It’s still pulling you down.

Down…

..down…

and down…

In a last, thoughtless attempt, you reach out, fingers stretching toward the abyssal void, but there's nothing to grasp onto, nothing to anchor you in this sea of darkness. Panic tightens its grip around your throat, threatening to choke the life from your trembling body.

Desperation claws at your soul, pounding on your chest, as you realise the seconds are slipping away. Any moment now, and you’ll be dead. Any moment now, and everything you yourself have worked for, would be gone. You let yourself close your eyes. Maybe because of the weight of the void pushing onto your body, or maybe you’re tired from fighting this thing around your leg for Eywa knows how long. When you outstretched your hand you hoped that someone, anyone would pull you out of this..nothingness. You wanted it so badly you almost thought that he would. That he’d save you.

Your body jolts awake, only to find yourself in an unfamiliar place.

The cool, steady flow of the breeze unnerves you. It’s the first thing you notice besides the wild racing of your heart in your chest, your head whipping around in this empty space, trying to ascertain where you are. Is this Eywa? The place feels like a void, but it’s far different from the blackened one that suffocated your being. It feels calm. Peaceful. You can see the dark purple sky above you, glittering with stars and moons that you’ve never even seen about it. But it looks… strange.

Otherworldly. Like it is impossibly distant, yet so close to you at the same time. You kneel in an extraordinarily shallow pool of cool water, the surface reflecting the celestial display above you. Though it is rather shallow, like a puddle almost, it stretches endlessly into the horizon as far as your eyes can see it. As you look around, time seems to stand perfectly still.

It’s unnerving. Realising that you can, in fact, move your desensitised limbs, you slowly get up, your feet creating small ripples in the water. “Hello?” you call out.

Nothing except your own echo responds to you. Just then, you hear something in the distance. Like someone’s there, in the hazed distance. They’re close to you, then they’re unimaginably far away. What is that? “[Name]!” It’s calling out your name. How do you respond? A. Call out for help

B. Cry C. Curl up into a ball and give up D. Walk towards the source Just kidding, you don’t have a choice. As if your legs had minds of their own, you start walking towards the source. You can’t quite make out that voice. It changes every time you hear it, showing up in intervals of about 5-8 seconds of space in between. “[Name]?” Gosh, and the change in tone too. It’s filled with fear, then anger, then happiness, then…huh? “[Name]... I’m so sorry.” Sadness. The voice is filled with a type of sadness that almost stabs your chest. Regret. Guilt. So many emotions in this strangely familiar, choked-out voice. The voice continues sobbing, sniffling, but then it stops. Leaving you whipping around in the darkness, unsure of where to go. You turn around, then you slam face first into something really tough. “What the fuc-” your voice rings out, angered, in the void. Rubbing your nose, you look up. “What the fuck?” you whisper. It’s Aonung.

How delightful. But seriously, how de-fucking-lightful? Finally, another person in this endless, pitch black space of darkness. You almost want to scream. Of horror or joy, you’re not exactly sure, but you contain yourself, mostly due to the fact that he’s looking at you.

And he’s crying. Tears stream down his cheeks as he looks at you— actually, not quite you. His eyes aren’t exactly focused on yours, but they’re focused on…you. If that makes any sense at all. “Please wake up…” he croaks out.

And that voice! It was him. That depressing, bleak voice from before that was calling out your name. It was him. But why? And how?

You’re about to do something but then your heart jolts in your chest because he’s lifting up his right hand and cupping your cheek softly. Gently. Like the real Aonung would never do. This is some sick hallucination isn’t it? Oh gosh you actually went to hell, didn’t you? Before you realise it, he uses his thumb to wipe away a tear that somehow appeared on your face. You’re not crying. So what is this? What’s going o– NO. He’s leaning in. WHY IS HE LEANING IN? Fuck all “[NAME], DO SOMETHING!! YOU STUPID-” you scream at yourself, fighting your inanimate body. WHY COULDN’T YOU FUCKING MO- *SLLAAAAAPPPPPP!!!*Now you’re scrambling to your feet on what you realise to be the sickbed of Ronal’s healing tent, your hand stinging after delivering the most horrible sounding slap you have ever slapped…

…to the side of Aonung’s, now incredibly shocked, and incredibly offended, face.

Ronal sighed, but the remnant of a smirk lingered still on her cheeks, avoiding both you and Aonung’s gaze. “There you go, [name]. Next time, you should be much more careful,” she said softly, her hands leaving the cooling bandage now wrapped around your still aching leg and extending to your ankle, a sore reminder of whatever the hell it was that you experienced the night before.

You sat on a woven hammock, propped up by the trees that supported the healing tent. Ronal stood in front of you, “I am grateful that Aonung was there to help,” she said, turning towards the discombobulated walking-disease she called her son, who had a big bandage over his cheek, glaring down at you. She grabbed Aonung’s ear, pulling his body over very clearly painfully, making him yelp in pain with incoherent pleas of ‘ma’ and ‘please’ coming from his lips.

“What in Eywa’s name were you thinking? Trying to kiss a girl while she’s injured and unable to say anything about it! You are lucky that she slapped you first, or else you would not live to see another day if I had anything to do with it! My son, you are many things, but you are not an idi–” she scolded, promptly dragging him out of the marui still by his ear to deliver his well-deserved punishment outside, an amused smile making its way onto your face. Sigh, justice.

But okay, the incredulity of the day, of course, has not worn down on you.

Tsireya came rushing into the tent with a bowl of…whatever, her face the guiltiest it’s ever been. It kinda made your heart hurt. “[Name], I am so, so, so sorry!” she said, kneeling down by your hammock and taking your hand in between hers. “As soon as I heard you were awake I rushed over,” she quickly mumbled, grabbing a rag and dipping it into the bowl and pressing it over your forehead gently, “I am so sorry for yesterday, I never should have suggested going there, let alone–”

Oh, here we go… It’s the Tsireya cycle, you call it. Whenever something goes wrong, she infinitely feels bad as if it’s her fault that something nearly killed you.

She kept on rambling, trying to explain herself, but all you did was squeeze her hand tighter. She stopped, looking at the small smile on your face. “Hey, no harm done Reya. I’m fine, you see?” you reassure her, the small beads of water gathering under her eyes slowly going away as she blinked rapidly, containing herself as best as she could. She couldn’t say anything, although words were at the tip of her tongue. You could see she was struggling to add something, but she finally relented, settling for a gentle hug. “I’m glad,” she smiled.

Okay, now it was time to figure out what the hell happened. “So…who saved me?” you asked her, using your arms to prop you up a little bit higher on the hammock. “Well, it’s a long story. Aonung kind of…followed us to see the nrr payoang. He was planning to surprise us, he said.”

what

“He said he saw us, and as he was swimming down he saw you get pulled down by the creature. He dove in immediately and saved you.” she offered a small smile, like anything she was saying was making sense at the moment.

The only thing that came into your mind was the blaring red siren that screamed “STALKER! STALKER! STALKER!” but unfortunately, the pufferfish on legs had just saved your life so you were probably going to have to shut up about that for a while.

Woah. He just saved your life, [Name], shouldn’t you be more grateful? Maybe hug him? Maybe-

NO! Inner thoughts, shut up. Nobody likes you.

Tsireya turned around in response to the sound of someone being pushed through the entrance to the healing tent.

Aonung.

Wait nonononono Tsireya please don’t get up please don’t leave me here with him he looks like he’s about to kill me please

Aaand she’s gone.

He took a pained breath, as if what he was going to do next was going to bruise him for the next couple centuries or so, sitting cross legged beside your, now that you realise it, very lowly hung hammock.

You were positive the look on your face wasn’t very inviting.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said.

You had half a mind to burst out laughing because you were the one that had to get saved in the middle of the deep dark ocean. But he did violate you so obviously you weren’t going to do that, it was well deserved. A non-consensual move is still a non-consensual move.

“For the record, I only wanted to….” he basically whispered the next word, “kiss” (you felt your whole body cringing and twisting and turning on the inside and screaming to be let go from this horrible situation) “the top of your head.”

Oh.

‘kayyyy… that makes it the tiniest bit better.

Still not forgiving though.

“I’m sorry too.” you said to him, your eyes now avoiding his face. Damn, did you slap him good.

He let out a small smirk. Oh no, you slapped his smirking cheek. You could see him wince in pain a bit before he stopped his expression abruptly.

“For what? I mean besides the slap. I deserved that. Although, I have no idea how you knew-” his eyes widened, stopping mid-sentence.

“Were you pretending the whole time?” he asked, eyes scrutinising your face.

“Okay hold on! I know it sounds crazy, but I had this dream, and you were in my dream–” you started explaining, ignoring his smirk at those words, “and I saw you lean down to like, kiss me, or something, and then I slapped you in the dream but I slapped you in real life.”

“All I got from that was ‘I dreamed about you kissing me, Aonung, please kiss me now, Aonung, I love you, Aonung’ ” he joked, smiling down at you.

Gosh, those dimples.

FUCK nononononnnonasonfiwbjberhblvhaqnerovnav

Okay but he was kinda attractive as hell right now.

The hair too.

You weighed your options for a bit, the tension in the air crisp.

“[Name]? Did I say something wro–” he started.

Ughhhhh, just shut up already.

Before you knew it, you closed your eyes and pulled him in by his neck, pressing his lips onto yours, kissing him.

He sighed into the kiss, before smiling really widely, pulling away.

“So I was right after all–”

“Just shut up before I give you a matching bruise on the other cheek,” you threatened. But a super wide smile was evident on your face, and your hands still clasped together on the back of his neck.

“Yes ma’am,” he smiled, whispering softly, looking into your eyes and then your lips again.

“Thank you for saving my life, ‘Nung.” you say.

You don’t know why the hell you’re doing this.

But it just feels right.

And isn’t that what we’re all looking for in the end?

“No problem. Would do it again,” he smirked, “Know how you can repay me?”

You rolled your eyes before pulling him in once again.

masterlist

Omg screaming crying WOOO it’s over it’s done! I’m so so sorry if it didn’t turn out to be exactly what you asked for, anon. Harder than I thought it would be to complete a fic after a solid 10 months of not writing (and also unfortunate circumstances arising). I made sure it was longer than my usual so that it’s not too bad 😭

I hope you guys enjoyed the fic, I know I definitely enjoyed writing it lol. I tried a different style of narration this time so do let me know what you guys think! Hope it’s not total doodoo to future Lorre when she rereads this back again.

As always, feedback is much much appreciated and any interaction with my posts helps a lot! In case anyone has more requests please feel free to leave them in the inbox, I will get to them eventually. Thinking of writing for a lot of characters and fandoms but this is getting way too long so I'll cut this short lmao.

see you later!

much love, lorre

#avatar x reader #avatar fanfiction #lorreverie posts #avatar way of water #avatar #aonung x reader #ao'nung x reader #aonung #aonung imagine #tsireya #atwow #ronal #atwow x reader #atwow x you #atwow x y/n #avatar 2022 #avatar the way of water

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khaire-traveler · 1 month ago

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Hi! I uh, I'm having a struggle here. I understand that the Gods are not their myths, but also like... is that just for personalities? What about their relationships to each other? What if X isn't married to X. What about the creation? Parents and children? Like how far does the "Gods are not their myths" go? What myths are true vs just a story?

Like from my experience with like, Hera and Dionysus it *seems* like their spouses are the same as the myths but also I've never personally interacted with Zeus or Ariadne one on one, yknow? Also thats a weird ass question to ask. Am I just overthinking or is this something other people struggle with? I ofc believe that in terms of personality, the Gods don't act like their myths. I mean, I work with Hera, who is so cold and vindictive in the myths but is actually kind and motherly to me personally.

I don't want to doubt the Gods (and I'm kinda not, I'm more doubting the humans writing about them?? Kinda??) but I'm just... how much is Myth and how much isn't? Does that make sense?

Khaire! This is a fantastic question, and one you get to decide for yourself. c:

What do you feel is the truth? How much of myth do you choose to believe? And at what point does it become overthinking? At what point is the answer more about the unknowable nature of what a god is and their relationships to one another? What things are left entirely to the fact that we simply don't know and that's actually ok?

Myths are a fantastic guideline. They reveal to us how the ancients likely viewed certain life lessons, deities, and even how they may have worshipped. However, how much of a myth we take to heart is up to us, ultimately. You are right to doubt the stories that we're told, but to what extent do you wish to doubt? Are you overthinking things at any point, in your opinion? Are there some things that you can simply shrug off for now? Myths are not the entire basis of worship in ancient Greece, so while some things, such as family relations, are confirmed in myths, it's also important to acknowledge that 1. myths often contradict each other, depending on where they're from, and 2. things like epithets and recorded festivals tells us how the gods were worshipped outside of myth and how they were viewed. As I said, myth isn't the entire basis of this religion; myth was more of a guideline for knowledge that was heavily based on the culture and location at the time (which is why there are different social rules, symbolism, and similar in them).

Another important thing to consider is the role of symbolism in myths which is something that's pretty difficult to discern in the modern times. What things were exaggerated to make a point to the audience? What lessons does this myth teach, and how was someone meant to learn from it? Myths of a god's wrath, as an example, likely bolstered the message that the gods were to be respected, not trifled with. Also, maybe reaching out to your deities and asking them to make these topics clear to you. How do they want you to worship them, with the knowledge that myths are often stories meant to teach something? Remembering, too, that the gods were often worshipped with their relationships to each other for hundreds of years (with some differences based on location and such) is also important, so even if they didn't have those relationships with one another in a human sense, what harm would it do to continue that ancient tradition? Keep in mind that these types of aspects of worship are also linked with respecting the culture of ancient Greece as we go about our practices, which I, personally, think is important to take into consideration. I think of it as paying homage to the ancient Greeks, in a way.

This is the conclusion I've come to in my own practice, as it's a question I've asked many times as well. You're absolutely not the only one asking these things, and doubt is a good thing! It helps us develop our beliefs further and seek more knowledge. Doubt makes us curious, and curiosity feeds learning; don't feel bad for that, it's entirely natural! c: Hope this helps! Take care, and I wish you the best of luck on your journey ahead. 🧡

#asks #answered asks #helpol #hellenic polytheism #hellenic pagan

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pastafossa · 4 months ago

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Daredevil Characters as Epic the Musical characters

Been talking this out with @sunflowersandsapphires and I THINK WE GOT IT. Loved doing this, since this is a combo of three things I love: musical retellings of stories I love, ancient Greek mythology, and fucking DAREDEVIL.

Anyway, go listen to Epic the Musical if you haven't already, it's gd amazing, now one of my favorite musicals ever, and the way Matt and the others line up with it is beautiful.

Matt: Odysseus

What if I'm the one who killed you Every time I caved to guilt? What if I've been far too kind to foes But a monster to ourselves? What if I'm the monster?

Foggy: Polites (really hope this one doesn't come to bite us in the ass in Born Again)

This life is amazing When you greet it with open arms Whatever we face, We'll be fine if we're leading from the heart

Karen: Eurylochus

Tell me you did not know that would happen Say you didn't know how that would end Look me in the eyes and tell me That you did not just sacrifice six men

Fisk: Poseidon

The line between naivety And hopefulness is almost invisible So close your heart, the world is dark and Ruthlessness is mercy

Frank: Athena

I've no respect for bullies Those who impose their will I've seen plenty enough to truly understand this kind of filth Let's teach this dog a lesson In front of all his kind

Elektra: Circe

If you make one wrong move, then you're done for Anything I don't approve, then you're done for I could put a spell on you and you're done for Boy, you better run or soon you will be done for

Peter: he was in a scene with Matt in No Way Home, it counts, anyway he's Telemachus

Give me sirens and a cyclops Give me giants and a hydra I know life and fate are scary But I wanna be legendary

Claire: Tiresias

I am the prophet with the answers you seek Time, I've unlocked it I see past and future running free There is a world where I help you get home But that's not a world I know

Bonus for TRT Readers!

Jane: Penelope

I will fall in love with you over and over again I don't care how, where, or when No matter how long it's been, you're mine

Bonus Bonus:

Stick: a pig that Circe eats because he is a fuckface

(scared squealing)

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belit0 · 7 days ago

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Imagine a slap on the ass from s/o for Uchiha boys… She knows perfectly well what she is doing and is waiting for a reaction, maybe a good session of retaliatory spanking. (Sorry, I'm a whore for something like this, and your open requests are too tempting to remain silent

Indra and Madara

Indra

He’s just stepped into the quiet of the room, silent as always, bare feet meeting the floor in measured steps.

His upper robe hangs from his waist, revealing the carved strength of his back and the taut line of muscle trailing down to his hips.

He’s regal even in this—undressed, relaxed, yet composed like a war god at rest.

And (Y/N), seated lazily on the edge of the bed, watches him walk past.

Calm. Perfectly still.

Until her hand comes down.

A sharp slap.

Right on his ass.

Not gentle. Not playful.

Calculated.

He stills. Entirely.

The silence is thick. Absolute.

Indra turns his head, slowly, over his shoulder—eyes shadowed, unreadable.

And then, with a slow exhale, his jaw tightens. –You think that was wise?–

(Y/N) only smiles, tilting her head like she’s daring him to make a move.

Her fingers trace the edge of the sheets, unbothered.

Waiting.

Indra crosses the distance in two strides.

He needs no words, merely handling her as one would a doll, tossing her onto the sheets and revealing her bottom to the room.

His voice is not raised, but thunder rolls in every word.

He doesn’t give her time to object.

One hand closes around her waist, the other grips one cheek and squeezes violently.

–You don’t slap your husband. Not unless you’re ready to pay for it.

And oh, does he make her pay.

Sprawled across the bed, her skin burns from the sting of his palm, and the velvet rasp of his voice as he commands her through every second of the punishment.

He doesn’t stop until he’s satisfied—not just with her red, trembling thighs, but with the broken, breathless way she whimpers his name and apologizes by the end.

Then, and only then, does he press a kiss to the back of her shoulder.

–Don’t do that again.– A pause. –Unless you’re very ready to suffer for it.–

Madara

(Y/N) comes up behind him just as he leans over a table, inspecting maps and strategy.

She's slow, deliberate.

Eyes on the broad spread of his shoulders, the way his waist tapers down—

She does it without warning.

SLAP.

The sound echoes.

Madara stiffens, but doesn’t turn immediately.

His hand closes slowly into a fist on the table.

–You dare.

Deep voice. Low.

Dangerous.

(Y/N) only stands there, feigning innocence, biting her lip to hold back a smile.

Madara turns.

Eyes like wildfire.

A slow, hunting smile curling on his lips.

–You’ve forgotten your place, I see.– He steps forward.–Don’t worry. I’ll remind you.–

The Uchiha bends her against the table, chest over wood, with the ease of someone handling prey.

Not rough—controlled.

Like a man who punishes only when it will teach the most valuable lessons.

His hand slides over her ass, cupping the same spot she dared to touch.

He squeezes, briefly bending over her, teeth brushing her ear.

–If you touch me like that again without permission, little brat, I’ll make you scream until the guards beg me to stop.

And then the spanking begins.

Rhythmic. Deliberate.

Each one punctuated with a low, gravelly command.

He makes her count, makes her thank him, until her body trembles and her voice is wrecked.

By the end, he lifts her up, deliberately squeezing the tender expanse of her bottom, proving his point, eyes dark and consuming.

–Next time you want to touch me like that, ask. Or don’t. I like punishing you.

He kisses her hard.

Possessive.

And in the dead quiet of the war room, her whimper echoes against ancient stone.

#naruto shippuden #naruto #naruto imagines #uchiha clan #madara uchiha #uchiha madara #madara #uchiha madara x reader #madara uchiha x reader #madara x reader #indra otsutsuki #otsutsuki indra #indra #otsutsuki indra x reader #indra otsutsuki x reader #indra x reader

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salmonight · 2 years ago

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DannyMay 2023, Day 15: Full Hazmat AU

Tittle: The Cleaner: First File

Summary: One day green glowing monsters started appearing and attacking cities all over the globe, and with them, arrived 'The Cleaner'. The Justice League has not uncovered any real information about them to this day. Meanwhile, Danny in a full hazmat suit: 'People can't even let me take a friggin nap!!'

One day, green glowing monsters and people started to appear all along the globe. No one knew where they came from, only that they enjoyed wreaking havoc wherever they showed up.

With the entities came 'The Cleaner' as they were titled. They always appeared no more than 10 minutes after a villain - from the ‘Green Dimension’, as they named it - showed up, and contained them in ten seconds flat, immensely helping in keeping the damage to the minimum.

The only saving grace was that these aliens never got anyone killed. Everyone in the Justice League found this observation extremely bizarre. But even with no casualties, the repair costs were enormous.

No matter how much the JL looked, there were never sightings of the figure other than during the fights, when they seemed to appear out of thin air. Internet searches came up blank as well, only filled with excited rants and candid photos taken by civilians. With these, they concluded that “The Cleaner” was either a) a brand new hero previously unknown, or b) from the same dimension the glowing entities came from. The whole League was miffed, with the Bats even more so, collectively losing their shit over having no contingency plans against the unknown figure.

Fully covered in a red and black hazmat suit nobody had a clue about their identity, even their gender was shrouded in mystery. Somehow their outfit, even without being overly baggy managed to hide any distinguishing bodily characteristics that otherwise would have been visible.

Until…. one day, one of the speedsters overheard the ‘Cleaner’s’ rant.

It went as any of their usual fights with the green monsters did. Not even a few minutes after the beast started to destroy the buildings, their mysterious hero materialized into existence in front of it. Instead of immediately throwing a punch like they expected, ‘The Cleaner’ instead stared at them with the most deadpan expression they could convey with a helmet on. For some reason, the speedster got a huge 'I’m-so-done-with-this-shit' vibe. Or that was just his overactive imagination. It was hard to tell with the headgear on. He must have gotten it right though, because then they tiredly put a palm to their face with one hand, and, without looking, flicked open the lid of a tube and sucked the entity into it with the other.

Surprisingly, The Cleaner didn’t immediately disappear once the monster was gone, so he took a few steps closer as they hung the green, metal tube ( which he could now tell was actually a soup thermos? What? ) back on his belt and pulled out an honest-to-god cellphone.

He didn't even have to strain his ears to listen in on the ensuing phone call since they were talking pretty loudly. And boy, did they sure sound pissed.

“I swear to the Ancients, Tuck,” the ‘Cleaner’ complained, motioning with their hands aggressively to emphasize their point “If I have to come to fetch another one of these god damned brats I'm gonna treat them the same way they act and build them a time out corner in either the warden’s prison or the palace. I'm pretty sure both Walker and Frightknight would love to teach them a lesson about tact!"

There was a pause as he listened to whoever they were talking to on the other end of the line. “No, I don't care that they’re centuries older than me. If they act like spoiled children they get treated as such!”

They let out an annoyed harrumph “I was taking a nap, Tuck. A NAP!!! You know I don't take naps! Not to mention I’m retired! What the hell am I? Their nanny? I don’t even get paid to clean up the messes they make! Can't they just keep their ecto ass sitting still in the realm for at least a few centuries to let me take my well deserved break!? But nooooo, these asshats have to make even more paperwork for me to do!"

“When I told them not to break into Amity anymore I did not mean for them to go to another dimension and terrorize a whole-ass-planet!!!” The ‘Cleaner’ threw up their spare hand in exasperation.

Their grumbling still could be heard as, with a wave of their hands, a portal opened, made out of a green swirling mass. Ignoring everyone else’s presence they stepped into the portal as it was the most common thing in the world.

The speedster could only watch and gape at the now empty air. They certainly did not know they could do that.

Now that he remembers though, they did sound like a male didn't they? He couldn’t estimate their age from the voice as it was very muffled coming through the headgear, but it was definitely not feminine.

And that's how the Justice League got their first ever info about the mysterious ‘Cleaner’.

Finally, the first real data was entered into the vigilante’s (?) file:

Name: UNKNOWN

Alias: “The Cleaner”

Age: UNKNOWN

Gender: Male

Origin: UNKNOWN

Race: UNKNOWN

Appearance: UNKNOWN

Power(s): Flight (or hovering, unconfirmed which), Super strength(?), Teleportation(?), Portal creation (confirmed)

Weakness(es): UNKNOWN

Costume: A full black and red hazmat suit. The headgear has a black, unreflective screen that has green orbs (eyes?) shining behind it. Matte black gloves, combat boots and belt. There are compartments added to the belt. Content: UNKNOWN

Weapon(s): a metal thermos(?) with green accents

Personality: UNKNOWN

Affiliates: Tuck (?) (no file available)

Takedown plan(s): Impossible to make without further data

Note: The entity always deals with the threats quickly and effectively. Their moves speak of prior experience.

Ao3

The one that helped betaing this work once again is the lovely Amateum!

My hands were itching to draw something so in a 'why the fuck not' mode i drew Danny's file.

Except as sequel of this with arts and all fellas cuz am already preparing it!

The sketch:

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pagesfromthevoid · 1 year ago

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A Real Nightmare | a.a. | 4

Astarion x fem!tav

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Mildly suggestive themes. Nudity, almost sex, talking about consent and insecurities

Author’s Note: I promise I didn’t give up on this I just got distracted by the fuckin wizard

Series Masterlist | Talk to Me!

It wasn’t that they didn’t have a lot of alone time in the following days since Tav confessed her desire for Astarion. It was just that she had decided to let Astarion make whatever move he wanted first –if he ever made one.

While he admitted he found her attractive the other night, he told her that she “smelt like a wet dog” and couldn’t bear the idea of bedding her like that. Tav had rolled her eyes at his dismissal, chalking it up to him putting up the walls she had managed to break down. But she didn’t push him, and simply thanked him again for letting her use his tent and bedroll for the night.

“I suppose we could share until you get your own,” he had offered dismissively, waving his hand as he reopened his book.

And thus started a strange co-living situation that was a step above what they had already been doing. They had plenty of alone time in camp, with her sharing his tent each night. But Astarion either didn’t want to make a move or didn’t know he could —both of which made Tav’s heartache one way or another.

Following a particularly nasty fight against a couple of death Shepard (truly, could they catch a break?), Tav's magic had taken a rather chaotic turn, ensnaring everyone and anything that stepped too close to her. Karlach and Gale had gotten away just fine, though Astarion had briefly slashed at the roots to free himself. Even she was stuck in the vines that had appeared after a particularly powerful spell, preventing her from being able to help further than casting a fire bolt here and there.

“We could just leave her here,” Astarion suggested, standing right at the edge of the vines that tangled her up now.

“Astarion, you ass —,” she started, but was cut off by a vine jabbing itself into her calf and causing her to curse angrily.

“And risk you biting one of us, instead?” Karlach chuckled, hacking away at the vines. “C’mon, soldier. Simmer down so we can get you out.”

“If it was that easy,” Tav huffed in frustration, throwing her hands up. “I damn well wouldn’t be here.”

“Perhaps if you knew how to control yourself,” Astarion offered unhelpfully. “We wouldn’t be picking you from the bushes.”

“You are not helping, Astarion!”

“You have to remember that the power is within you,” Gale reminded her, smiling that know-it-all smile of his that Tav really didn’t want to see at the moment, even though she knew he meant well. “Your powers come from ancient forces of chaos. They churn within you —waiting to burst free at any time. You just need to take a deep breath and —,”

“I do not need a lesson in magic right now!” She snapped at him, only worsening the vines that wrapped around her. She held her breath for a moment, looking at the wizard. “Gale, I do not need to be reminded of what my magic does. I am painfully aware. You can teach me later.”

Then she heaved another sigh, looking to Karlach now as the tiefling broke through the original set of vines. Tav was able to shake loose the newest round, stepping clumsily out of the disaster.

Clumsily being the key word, as the moment she thought she was free, another root wrapped around her ankle. She yelped as she fell face first, but Gale was there in a beat, catching her before she hit the ground. The vine disappeared, leaving her clutching onto the front of Gale’s robes with his hands on her waist.

“Careful there, Tav,” he chuckled, helping her stand up right again. His hands sat just below her waist, firmly grounding her. “Can’t have you losing your balance now of all times.”

His hands lingered a bit longer than they needed on her waist —long enough that when she did pull herself away, she saw the annoyance on Asterion's face. She wanted to scold the vampire —he couldn’t be jealous or annoyed that someone else was willing to touch her if he didn’t do it himself. Or when he was being an absolute menace towards her instead of helping. But instead she stood up straight and ignored him and Gale entirely, pushing forward to the monastery.

“We should probably make camp,” Gale suggested as she and Karlach pressed on. “We need to rest if we’re going to get into the crèche without issue.”

“I hate it when he’s right,” Karlach snickered, elbowing Tav.

The sorceress gasped some at the singeing of her robes, looking up at her companion for a moment. Karlach looked sorrowful, apologizing frantically. But Tav broke out into an easy smile.

“Now I know how Astarion felt when I lit him on fire,” she laughed, looking at the burn hole in her side. “Hells, I guess we do need to set up —I can’t fight with this.”

“You certainly cannot compare your light burn to actually lighting me on fire,” Astarion sneered as he appeared at her side, eyeing the hole in her robes.

“Well, I can. And I did.”

*****

“I’m not fixing that for you,” Astarion stated as he entered the tent that evening.

Tav sat in her night clothes —something loose fitting and breezy, but easy to fight in if needed —with a needle and thread in her hand. She squinted with her good eye —the other having been stupidly (but voluntarily) replaced by the one Volo had when he tried to remove the parasite and thus felt too foreign to use still.

“Why would you?” She asked, threading the needle carefully. Her tone was curious, though her eyes were fixed on her task at hand. “Can you even sew?”

“Of course I can sew,” he sneered as he dropped down beside her, yanking the tool from her hand. “Unlike you.”

“Astarion, I don’t —,”

“Oh, be quiet.”

Tav grudgingly complied with his request, her irritation evident as she watched him work. However, as she observed Astarion's nimble fingers expertly maneuvering the needle, her annoyance gradually gave way to curiosity. She shifted in her seat, crossing her legs and leaning in closer, intrigued by his unexpected skill. Despite her initial skepticism, she found herself impressed by the effortless way he patched up the hole in her robes. There was a certain finesse to his movements, a hint of a life she couldn't quite grasp. It was as if he had once been accustomed to having others cater to his every need, yet now he was here, performing a task with a dexterity that surprised her.

“Where did you learn to sew?” She asked, watching curiously as his hands moved carefully but quickly around her clothes.

“When you’re a slave for two hundred years, you learn a thing or two.”

She blanched, words caught in her throat at his comment. Of course he had to know how to take care of himself and his things; she hadn’t even considered that in her little judgmental tirade.

“Hells, I’m sorry —I shouldn’t have —I’m an idiot.”

“You don’t need to apologize for something you weren’t even alive for,” he amended, though his eyes were fixed on her garments and he refused to look at her. “There’s plenty else for you to apologize for.”

Tav's brows furrowed as she mulled over Astarion's cryptic remark. Before she could press for clarification, he spoke again, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Though I must admit, it's quite the spectacle witnessing you and Gale, so cozy and chummy. Almost makes one wonder if there's more to your partnership than meets the eye. Or perhaps you're just practicing your innocent act for when you're not knee-deep in trouble," he quipped, a sly smirk playing on his lips as he finally glanced up to meet her gaze.

“Sweet hells,” she groaned, throwing her hands in the air. Tav's irritation flared at Astarion's insinuation, her eyes narrowing as she met his gaze head-on. "You know very well, Astarion, there's nothing between Gale and me," she retorted, her voice tinged with exasperation. "I've made it abundantly clear who I want in this camp, and it's not some imaginary love affair with Gale."

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, wondering why Astarion insisted on needling her about nonexistent romances when the truth of her feelings was plain for anyone with eyes to see. Yet, despite her frustration, she couldn't help but notice the slight tension in his posture, the way his gaze flickered away before returning to hers with a mixture of defiance and vulnerability.

“I told you the other night –it’s you,” she reminded him, taking the needle and clothes from his hands, forcing him to focus on her and her alone. “Whatever you want, whatever you decide —I promised you that –but you haven’t decided anything. You feed on me every night, we share your tent, you’re fixing my damn clothes –but you cannot be jealous of Gale putting his hands on me when you won’t.”

Something dangerous flashed in Astarion’s eyes at her scolding, and suddenly she was being shoved to the floor of the tent. She was pinned beneath Astarion, whose thighs caged her legs in while his arms trapped her from above. His face was close to hers, close enough that their noses barely brushed against one another.

All the blood rushed straight between her thighs, heart racing against her rib cage as if trying to escape. For the first time since she met Astarion, she was seeing the spawn he was.

And it was all too alluring.

“Do you know why I haven’t touched you, Tav?” He asked, leaning in closer now. Baiting her, goading her into making the first move. But she shook her head, pressing herself further into the ground. “Because if I do, I will not stop.”

Clenching her thighs together, Tav couldn’t help the sound that escaped her lips –an almost lewd hum of desperation. Asterion's eyes were locked on hers, keeping her gaze from straying from the rubies that made up his irises.

“What if,” she managed to breathe out, tentatively reaching up to touch his cheek. The danger that Astarion presented melted just barely at her touch, softened the edges of his eyes, as she finished, “I don’t want you to stop?”

It was a heartbeat later, if even, that his mouth was on hers, tongue parting her lips to taste her. Tav moaned into his mouth, her hands reaching up to pull at his silver hair and tug him even closer. She tried to part her legs, to wrap them around him, but he still caged her in and he wouldn’t budge as he pulled away from her mouth to trail his lips over her jaw. Across her cheek, under her ear, then down her throat —right over the only spot he had touched her in weeks: the bruised bite marks on her throat.

Asterion's teeth grazed the spot, though he did not break the skin as she writhed under him. Her hands still had purchase in his hair as his tongue trailed down the column of her throat.

“Astarion, please,” she sighed dreamily.

“Please, what, darling?” He asked, voice muffled slightly by the skin of her throat. “Use your words for me.”

“Just —touch me, please. Anywhere —everywhere —Gods, please.”

Finally, one of his hands pulled her leg out from between his thighs, spreading her so he could fit there instead. Without hesitation, she hiked her leg over his hip, pulling him closer to get whatever friction against her core that she could. The feeling of him pressed against her forced a hiss from her throat again.

The hand that had pulled away was trailing up her leg now, over her knee and up her thigh. So close to where she wanted —where she needed him to touch. But instead, he continued upwards until his nails tugged at the laces of her pants and loosened them. She didn’t question the movement, instead lifting her hips and untangling herself briefly from him to shimmy her pants down and off.

“Eager little pup, aren’t we?” He teased as she finally let go of his hair to reach for his pants next. Astarion stopped her however, swatting her hand away. “Unfortunately, I want you bare before me first.”

She huffed in frustration, but it was replaced by another sigh as he slipped his hand under her shirt, cold fingers brushing over her heated skin until he was pinching her taut nipple. Gods, she was thankful for the fact that she stopped wearing her undergarments to bed (entirely in case of a moment like this, if she was perfectly honest).

But if he wanted her bare, then he would get just that —anything to get him to touch her more. And so she reached back down to the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, throwing it to the side.

“Wait,” she breathed out, fingers stilling along the waistline of his pants.

Astarion pulled back slightly, eyes darting between her hands and her face, frowning deeply. One of her hands reached up, resting against the pale skin of his chest.

“I just —I need to know that you actually want this, Astarion,” she admitted, dropping her hand from his waistline, as if to show him she wasn’t moving forward without him. “I know that’s ridiculous and I’m already naked and you’re literally on top of me but —,”

She let out a surprised yelp when he kissed her again —but it was softer than before; careful. He didn’t deepen it, though, and instead pulled away just enough to look down at her once more.

“How is it you care so much about what I want when you’re getting exactly what you want?” He whispered, nudging her nose with his.

“I told you, I want —,”

“Yes, yes —you want what I want —but do you know how annoyingly sweet you are? How you just…you ruined my plans and now you’re stopping me from giving you what you want because you care so damn much about what I want —,”

“Wait, what? What plans?” She interrupted, pushing herself away from him some, grabbing her shirt to try to cover herself up as she stared at him.

Astarion sat back on his knees, pursing his lips some as he realized that he had given away more than he meant to.

“I just —,” he hesitated a moment, looking down at his hands for a moment before shaking his head. “Look, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan —seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you'd never turn on me. It was easy —instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it. And all I had to do was not fall for you.”

“Astarion, what are —,”

“Shush,” he scolded, narrowing his eyes down at her as she sat up. “This is…this is where my nice, simple plan fell apart. Tav…you’re incredible. And you deserve something real.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, Tav clutching her shirt to her chest as she processed Asterion's confession. What it sounded like he was saying was that whatever this was —whatever was happening between them —wasn’t real. And that realization squeezed her heart tight in her chest as she started to put her clothes back on.

The tent was suddenly too small; too cramped. She was overwhelmed and naive, just like he had thought weeks ago when they met. And she needed to get away from him as she tried to stand and hurry out.

“I’m sorry, Astarion. I should have —I didn’t —,”

But he grabbed her wrist, quick to stand and pulled her back to him.

“Tav, stop,” he demanded, though he didn’t sound all that convincing. “You deserve something real —I want us to be something real.”

Asterion's fingers flexed against her wrist, before he finally pulled her back into his embrace. Tentatively —almost timidly —he wrapped his arms around her waist and back, looking down at her with soft, crimson eyes.

“I…I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, reaching up to brush her hair behind her ear. “I don’t know what comes next, or what to do. And the idea of…intimacy or sex, I don’t…I don’t know how to separate the good and the bad. But I know that…I want you. All of you.”

Tav's touch mirrored his, reaching up to run the back of her hand against his cheek. He melted into her touch, leaning into it as he closed his eyes. He was so vulnerable in this moment; the walls he had spent so long hiding behind were breaking down and Tav’s heart ached at the thought that he was scared of her —of her rejection, of her feelings.

“I want you too, Astarion,” she promised, pressing her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and guiding him closer. Her nose brushed against his as he pressed his forehead against hers. “I don’t need to sleep with you to know I care about you. Whatever you need —however long you need —I can wait for you.”

His eyes searched hers, as if trying to catch a lie. While it hurt, not knowing if he truly believed her, she understood the fear. After everything he’d been through, there was more reason to assume the worst than not.

“You are more than what your body can do,” she promised him, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his nose.

“I…,” he paused, swallowing down whatever he was going to say, before pulling away. “I’m afraid I may have ruined the mood, darling.”

She waved off his concern, laughing at the idea. “The only mood I’m in is for a cuddle. How does that sound?”

Astarion smiled —a real, soft smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes —and he nodded. “A cuddle…sounds nice, actually.”

Tav grinned up at him before pulling away from his embrace –not enough to stop touching him; her fingers trailed down his arm until they latched onto his fingers –so she could take over his spot on the pillows he’d piled up. Although hesitant, Astarion slowly joined her in the mess of pillows, about to lay back when she pulled him into her arms. He seemed surprised by the notion that she would be holding him and not the other way around, but he didn’t argue as she wound one arm around him and held him close to her chest. The other found his hair, running her nails over his scalp and she swore he purred at the touch. She’d keep that in mind.

Melting into her embrace, Asterion's arms wrapped around her middle, holding her tight against him as if she would disappear. What she would give to be able to read his thoughts in this moment; to know if he felt safe like this; if he felt loved like this. Because that's what she wanted –to give him that safety, that love that he so desperately wanted; that he deserved.

Perhaps he heard her thoughts himself, because as she drifted off into a restful sleep, she heard him murmur into her skin,

“Thank you.”

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion ancunin #astarion #astarion bg3

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sleepyorchidmonster · 1 year ago

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As part of his lessons, Crowley always issues a crazy group project for the end of the year.

For their project, the first years decided to pair up, dividing their tasks;

- Jack was in charge of translating a love letter Levan wrote for Meleanor an ancient script;

- Epel had to create a poison from scratch with only the knowledge of its antidote;

- Sebek was tasked with writing a cohesive battle strategy based on a given situation;

- Ortho had to direct a commercial for NRC.

- Ace, Deuce and Grim were given what was considered the easiest task: estimating the power and destruction caused by a Zettaflare attack. All they had to do was research the topic and write a report.

Naturally, all first years received help from their upperclassmen. Leona helped Jack with translating, Vil aided Epel, Lillia used all his knowledge as a general to teach Sebek, Vil was the star of Ortho's commercial while Idia helped with editing, and so on.

Unfortunately, Riddle is never one to half-ass homework.

He helped Ace and Deuce with researching. Then went and LEARNED Zettaflare, just to make sure their estimations were correct. He blew up a nearby mountain (Jade was LIVID) and passed out for a day.

Adeuce and Grim covered up the accident (and dyed Riddle's hair back to red because it became white again) and everyone aced the assignment.

#twst #jack howl #epel felmier #sebek zigvolt #ortho shroud #ace trappola #deuce spade #twst grim #leona kingscholar #idia shroud #vil schoenheit #lillia vanrouge #riddle rosehearts #jade leech #then riddle used zettaflare in the final fight again #heartslabyul's recklessness knows no bounds

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5tr4wbaby · 2 years ago

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✨ art under ramble ✨

It’s my dream that when (NOT IF, WHEN) Red Dead Redemption 3 releases it’ll be a prequel to the second game. I’d love if you’d play as a new character who is part of Dutch’s gang in the early days and you are part of the VDL gang vs O’ Driscoll feud, witnessing the death of Colm’s brother and Annabelle and all other crazy moments mentioned in passing in RDR2. But mainly what I want to see is Dutch, Hosea, Arthur and John in the early days. I want to see the curious couple and their unruly sons in their purest form! I want to see Dutch and Hosea hold hands again, sweet Bessie doing sweet things and John’s horrendous reading lessons, Miss Grimshaw whacking everyone into shape AND ARTHUR WITH COPPER AND BOADICEA!!!

ANYWAYS

I had these really stupid ideas about how camp would work with so many characters, camp interactions and chores and tents. Maybe one day you are awoken by Miss Grimshaw shoving hungover Arthur’s head in a troth of cold water after a long night out and Hosea and Bessie chuckling by the fire. And by night you'll find new recruit Bill Williamson arguing with anyone he can find and Dutch teaching John slights of hands at the poker table. And what about all the new characters!!!!!?????

I get the impression that all the camp chores and tasks were dumped on baby John. You’ll find him dragging hay bales across camp, washing shirts, chasing chickens and half-ass-ly doing whatever jobs Arthur has convinced him to do by giving him an old penny after telling him it’s an ancient Roman coin that is worth a thousand dollars (lots of stuff like this happened you cannot convince he otherwise). While John peels potatoes in camp he dreams of getting his own gun, riding into town and robbing a bank just like a real outlaw! Then everyone would finally appreciate him as the awesomest and bestest gunslinger in all of history! Everyone knows that if John got his greasy hands on a pistol all hell would break loose. So he is cursed to camp indefinitely, at the expense of everyone around him. This absolutely led to him being a crazy teenager. Dutch's parenting is shit, we all know it.

Branching off the chore idea; if you called your horse in game, a little rat boy John would lead your horse to you. Come on just IMAGINE calling for your horse in camp and hearing faint steps approach you and when you look down you see a flea infested child holding your horse by a lead and spitting bizarre threats at you in an attempt to escape camp and rob some people.

sorry for the john posting :3c

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #john marston #rdr2 fanart #rdr2 john marston #red dead redemption #fanart #rdr #rdr2 headcanons #rdr2 john #red dead redemption 2 fanart #red dead redemption THREE???????#goofy ahh post #as usual #rdr2 precanon #red dead redemption 2 headcanons

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sidecharactersdomatter · 9 months ago

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Thoughts I had during TGCF S2 Ep 7

One more half left to go!

Previously on TGCF…

-He’s squeezing his fist tight

-Honey, the reason he’s not demanding requital cause he knows you never meant to cut him with E Ming

-What’s wrong is both man and sword are still upset for that mistake

-E Ming: No let him pet me!

Hua Cheng: Leave it! It’s fine

E Ming: No I’m not! *sobs more*

-*Hua Cheng smacks E Ming*

E Ming: OWWWIIIEE!

-Hey that’s sentient mystical weapon abuse! I’m filing!

-Hua Cheng:Because it’s always crying!

E Ming: Because you don’t want to be vulnerable in front of him!

Hua Cheng: Useless

E Ming: NO I’M NOT!

-See, there’s the sensory overload I was talking about to me that would be pain in your ears

-He still has the dice!

-That explains a lot

-“Hello Again” HAAAAAAAAAH

-“Oh come on Hua Cheng, teleport into Heaven. *Tosses out soggy carrot* Sweep him off his feet, carry him off in style.” - Little John, Robin Hood (1973)

-And then the brain cell starts getting tossed around like a volleyball

-Well you know as they say, Heaven’s got a lotta stuff, a pair of dice ain’t one of them. Also, pair of dice = Paradise, props.

-It’s the transmutation technique from the Fullmetal Alchemist series

-And then Feng Xin literally just went, ‘YOINK!’

-It’s a four!

-In they go

-There go the eardrums

-Could’ve told ‘em that earlier Qingxuan

-And four is the Chinese number for ‘Death’

-When you accidentally stumble into the opposite gender’s gym locker in junior to high during a tournament

-Not in the sauna!

-Try a badger mole’s tunnel

-Still could’ve told ‘em that earlier

-Now Mu Qing rolled a four

-That hair flip Mu Qing just did

-What are you doin in my swamp?!

-Gator boys!

-That lizard just blasted off

-Hadouken

-They’re just tossing swamp water at each other, that’s mature

-And even the gator people got scared

-Literally all the junior officials sneaking into the telepathic matrix: FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT

-Also:

NAN YANG! NAN YANG! NAN YANG!

XUAN ZHEN! XUAN ZHEN! XUAN ZHEN!

-And every other official just started another betting pool

-Qingxuan’s the only sane god in this pickle

-Just imagine the Gaang rolling the dice

-Yeah that’s pretty

-A water droplet

-Hey no interrupting!

-The same dark sword

-He does

-His huge ass goddang sword

-Round 2!

-A sword fight that could have the energy of Sokka vs. Piandao

-Hua Cheng gasped!

-The wind

-“Forget the forgotten” what Jun Wu told him in Ep 1

-His eyes glowed

-Ruoye just evilly grinned

-A. Yeah I was wrong on the fight comparison with the sword duel in Atla book 3

B. THAT’S IT!!!

-He spared your life be grateful

-“All’s fair in love and war.” Was that one of Sun Tzu’s teachings?

-Like the Crimson Rain Sought Flower

-“The perfect being you crafted in your mind is only just that.” Well that’s a good lesson because in reality nobody’s actually perfect.

-“I never was that person. Believing I was will only disappoint you.” That last sentence is also great advice for how we revere certain famous people.

-That old conflict and prejudice

-Scapegoats are never good

-Thank you Mengyou

-Another genocide prevented

-Mengyou wants to move forward instead of staying in the past

-It’s official, Mengyou is the MVP of Season 2

-Power is also knowledge aside from duty.

-He smiled as Fang Xin

-Thank you Fang Xin and Mengyou

-He was a good ruler

-He lied!

-Why did he kill the previous king and queen of Yong’An

-Literally any of my TGCF OCs witnessing Xie Lian laughing and then crying: Is he ok?

Also I heard about Xie Lian being indecisive on laughing or crying and another TGCF OC will be like: Laugh or Cry? Just pick one!

-Hua Cheng knows he is not ok

-It’s like a Matryoshka doll and a punching dummy had a small ancient Chinese uptight baby

-That 3D dice toss and teleportation

-A cave

-He took his sword

-There’s no where to hide

-The orcs from Tolkien’s fantasy novels

-He doesn’t have the will to fight

-Smurfs

-Ghost disguise Hua Cheng and Xie Lian are instant sketching inspiration!

-They look awesome!

-Qi Rong mention

-In other words, Qi Rong sticks a blue candle on all his ghost goons and calls it a day

-Dumb as a sack of stones

-He’s got fangs!

-Who’s he gonna meet?

5 episodes left! 2 more acts left in chapter 1 of The Scrap Immortal and the Avatar

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xxbyimm · 7 months ago

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Anima Nera - Severus Snape x OC - Chapter 4 - Professor Brown

New to Sev's journey? Chapter 1.

Anima Nera - Severus Snape x OC - Chapter 4 - Professor Brown

Summary: A lost item plays a far larger role in this chapter than anticipated...

Warnings: Sev's an ass, Suzy argues with him. Nothing new here!

Author’s note: I've been struggling with this chapter, because I just want to write Sev x Suzy scenes, but I also realize I have to create a world around them to make the story as convincing and immersive as I can. The life of a writer is hard!! 😂😭✨ P.S. I left an easter egg for the Hobbit enthusiasts 👀😆

‘The art of teaching is the art of assisting discovery.’

-Mark van Doren

September, 1990

Twenty pairs of curious—and rather judgy—teenage eyes were currently directed at their new teacher.

Suzy, the poor subject of their scrutiny, was standing in front of her classroom. Clad in a blouse in a blush shade and brown trousers, and arms folded tightly over one another, she stared back at the colorful collection of fifteen year olds. They looked utterly calm, as if they hadn’t been fighting over the best seats in the back of the class mere minutes ago—a battle fought with a ferociousness that was slightly unnerving and reminded Suzy of the nature of dragon hatchlings she had helped raise. The defeated students had, though rather begrudgingly, settled in the less favorable spots—their disappointment quickly morphing into curiosity as they took in their new surroundings.

Now that the first hurdle had been taken, the next phase of their introduction had begun—which was arguably the most vital one. Though her students gazed at her expectantly, Suzy knew what lay beneath the calm exterior. She had one chance; the board was set and the younglings were awaiting her first move. What would the new History of Magic teacher be like and why hadn’t she uttered a word yet? Would she cry easily when provoked? And was she bound to be as boring as her predecessor had been?

The pile of lesson plans that adorned her desk in her office prevented Suzy from becoming Professor Binns the second; provided that the students would work with her. Suzy’s stomach churned—the eggs and strips of bacon she had for breakfast floating in the midst of the turmoil. She should not have stuffed her face like that, but she always realized that once it was too late. One would say that she had learned her lesson by now, but no…

Suzy quickly looked up at Hel, who was currently curled up on her throne—a small cushion perched upon a cupboard in the back of the classroom. The little dragon was watching her human with a distrustful glow in her eyes. Especially for Hel, this new reality was a bit daunting.

‘Good Morning class,’ Suzy finally began, settling her gaze on her students once more. ‘I hope all of you are excited for a new year. By the way you’ve been squabbling over the seating arrangement, I’d say you are ready for the debate I’ve planned for today.’ ‘Where’s Professor Binns?’ A boy with dark, mischievous eyes and even darker unruly curls asked—he had secured himself a prime spot in the corner of the back end of the class. ‘Professor Binns has retired from teaching,’ Suzy replied. ‘He’s currently devoting his life—’ she paused and pursed her lips. ‘I mean his afterlife, I guess, to his studies.’ ‘So he hasn’t undergone a metamorphosis?!’ The friend of the dark curled student remarked with a laugh. Suzy’s lips curved into a smile at the notion, which was utterly ridiculous. ‘No, he has not,’ she said. ‘I’m Professor Susannah Brown and I graduated Hogwarts in 1979, which means I’m ancient. And that,’ she pointed lovingly at Hel’s safe space. ‘That is Helena, my teacup dragon. She came with me all the way from Romania and while she’s friendly, she needs some time to get used to you lot. I would advise all of you not to vex her.’

The students turned around in their seats, directing their attention at the little dragon. Hel let out a small whine—feeling far too exposed to these smaller humans—and retreated further into her blanket. ‘She doesn’t look dangerous at all,’ the boy with the unruly curls said to which a few other students murmured their approval. The boy looked at Suzy expectantly, a confident smirk tugging at his handsome features. ‘What kind of dragon hides away like that, Professor?’ ‘A dragon that has learned it’s not polite to release her fire on simply anyone that annoys her,’ Suzy explained with a dismissive wave of her hands. ‘Unfortunately for you, she’s incredibly smart and will remember your sorry ass until the day you die. She might be small, but she still has got teeth like razors and claws like meat hooks. She will use those when provoked.’ The boy sitting next to unruly curls made a hissing sound and bent his fingers into claws, to which both boys burst into laughter. Suzy narrowed her eyes. Hel didn’t deserve to be ridiculed like that, but she had no intention of being dragged into a useless discussion with a student on her first day. ‘Thank you for your excellent performance, Mister I-do-not-know-your-name, I suggest we’re going to stick to our curriculum, shall we?’ She offered instead. ‘Has anyone read the first chapter of our books during the summer?’

She was met with heavy sighs and a few troubled looks. As expected, she could have asked if her students had watched the skies each night and discovered her dark and broody colleague taking his bat army for a stroll, and it would have derived the same answer. Of course not!

Or… One student, a girl with vivid red locks, raised her hand. It seemed that there was still hope for Professor Snape and his nocturnal comrades.

‘Yes, Miss…?’ ‘Patricia Stone,’ the girl filled in eagerly. ‘I did read the first chapter, Professor. I found it enlightening.’ ‘Of course you didn’t have better things to do,’ a blond haired girl—who Suzy had heard being called Chloe—sitting two rows behind Patricia scoffed, to which Patricia shot her a filthy look. ‘Yeah, what’s so enlightening about—’ the student sitting next to Chloe began before quickly checking the study material. ‘Ew, giant wars?!’ ‘Yes, giant wars,’ Suzy said, taking back the reins. ‘It’s the subject we’ll be studying during the first term. Now, though I always appreciated the lengthy naps during my History of Magic classes, I regret to inform you that those days are finally over.’

She was met with an uproar of protests, which she calmly allowed to die out. ‘When will I do my Potions homework?’ A girl seated on the side of the small windows complained. ‘I suggest you do that in your own time, Miss…?’ ‘Francine Clearwater, Professor.’ ‘Miss Clearwater,’ Suzy repeated. ‘Like I said, you can do your Potion’s assignments in your own time or when you have met your obligatory curriculum for History of Magic.’ ‘But Professor Snape always gives so much homework!’ The girl countered, desperation coating her voice. ‘How am I going to keep up?!’ ‘Oh, lighten up, Pisswater!’ The boy with the unruly curls shouted from the back of the class. ‘You don’t have to be the teacher’s pet all the time.’ ‘I am not the teacher’s pet!’ the girl cried out indignantly, her cheeks flushing in a bright red hue. She pointed in the direction of the red haired student that had read the first chapter. ‘Patricia is always trying to suck up to the teachers and—’

Suzy watched the chaotic discussion unfold. Two groups emerged: a few students defending the girl’s status as “not the teacher’s pet” and the popular kids dragging the poor girl through the mud. The rest of the class watched the debate, grateful their first lesson was being stalled. Suzy pursed her lips. At her former job, fights always lured around the corner; dragons are naturally impatient and hot-headed creatures. As a dragon tamer, she usually relied on simple methods like distraction or—in more urgent situations—a more dominant, aggressive approach; the language all beasts understood. But these kids were humans, not dragons—she could hardly cast a firebolt or cast the amplifying charm on her voice to make herself heard, couldn’t she?

Before Suzy had made up her mind, Hel whined—catching the attention of a few students—and flew from her throne to her human’s arms, where she watched the uproar with an uncertain glow in her eyes.

‘Hel’s already done with your shit,’ Suzy remarked in a loud tone, effectively silencing most of her class, though a low murmur persisted. ‘As am I, goodness!’ She went on, slowly stroking Hel’s spine. ‘But since you’ve proved that all of you possess excellent debating skills, I suggest all of you are going to practice some more.’ The murmuring rose, for no one liked to actively participate in a debate on their first day—only the true teacher’s pet Patricia Stone seemed excited. ‘But Professor!’ Chloe demanded. ‘Can’t you just tell us the story?’ ‘Absolutely not. I need two teams,’ Suzy directed as she counted the seats. ‘Let’s divide the classroom in two… Left and right right?’ She paced towards the door. ‘Now, imagine… this group,’ she pointed at her right side. ‘You are wizardkind and you have lived peacefully in a village called Blackwater. Blackwater is surrounded by a beautiful, dense forest.’ She paced back to the front of the classroom. ‘The other side is a clan of giants. You live in the mountains of this vast forest.’ ‘Why do we need to be giants?’ Professor-Snape-gives-us-too-much-homework asked with a weary sigh. ‘I want to—’ ‘It doesn’t matter,’ Suzy dismissed the notion. ‘Imagine both sides have lived peacefully, until a specific event. Can anyone tell me what motives each party could have for instigating war?’

As it turned out, teaching human kids wasn’t as fulfilling as working with young dragons, but the overall experience had been fine. Exhausting—yes—but fine.

The last class had just ended and Suzy was seated at her desk, going over her lesson plans and reviewing the goals she had set. Though the debate with her fifth years hadn’t turned out as lively or interesting as she had hoped, she did successfully introduce the giant wars to them. Her second years’ class had been solely interested in Hel and had pestered Suzy into answering questions about dragons throughout the entire lesson—Suzy didn’t mind talking about her friend at all, but dragons were hardly a subject on their curriculum. Suzy heaved a weary sigh and grabbed her quill. She just needed to check these points and—

Hel, who had been watching her human from her throne, let out a squeak. ‘You did wonderfully,’ Suzy said and looked up, her mouth curving into a smile. ‘I know you got scared for a bit, but that’s okay! Even I was quite nervous about our first day, but we did well.’ Hel growled quietly and curled herself up on her cushion, her golden eyes flashing. She remembered her human’s frantic pacing and panicked monologues from early in the morning all too well. The whole ordeal had been quite vexing for the both of them. Suzy laughed, her eyes roaming over her desk in search of her ink. ‘If you think I’m tiresome, you should try to live with your mother—she used to be a real treat to be around, until….’

She trailed off, not willing to chase the subject further. ‘Ink,’ she mumbled, her gaze lingering over her desk and through her classroom. Everything was there—enough chalk to last at least three years, her planner and textbooks, five pencils, a stack of parchment and…

‘Where is it?! I swear I had it just yesterday… Damn it!’ She paced into her office and opened the drawers of her other desk, rummaging through the contents inside. After arriving in England, Suzy and Hel had raided Scribbulus Writing Instruments in Diagon Alley for supplies—Suzy was fairly certain she had bought herself three bottles of ink; one in an ominous black color and a set of a lush green and a vivid red shade. She had used the green one to write her lesson plans, but the other vials had been locked away in her desks’ drawers, so there was no way— ‘What… How—’ Suzy murmured to herself as both bottles were nowhere to be found: not in her desk, nor in her bookcases or filing cabinet. ‘Things don’t just disappear, do they?’ She said to herself and retrieved her wand from her wand pocket before summoning her lost items with a wave of her wand. ‘Accio!’

A few moments passed. ‘What the actual fuck…’ Suzy muttered when her summoning spell yielded nothing. She strode into her classroom, her fingers trembling as she hastily checked that desk for the missing items again. ‘Damn it!’ She huffed when that search too yielded a big, fat nothing. This didn’t make sense, at all. Had students already raided her office? Or had Peeves paid her classroom a visit during lunch hour?

Suzy made her way towards the entrance of her classroom and surveyed the space before casting another summoning charm—though she already knew the bottles weren’t in the vicinity. She groaned and slumped against the doorpost, which gave her a clear view of the corridor outside her domain.

Now what?!

Her eyes traveled over the slab stones and found that her nemesis classroom’s door was wide open—the dark, intriguing topic of brewing drafts and potions had tormented its students through the entire day and probably couldn’t wait to do it all over again. Suzy heaved a sigh and crossed her arms. She could mess up her quarters in search of those lost vials, unless… She brushed a loose curl from her face and looked up at Hel, who was watching her every move—ready to follow her human wherever she went. ‘I’ll be right back, I promise,’ Suzy said. ‘I need to see our bat colleague.’ Without waiting for her pet’s approval, she quickly made her way through the corridor.

While Suzy’s classroom was a simple, rectangular shaped space with a vaulted ceiling and elevated windows, Severus Snape’s domain couldn’t have been more different: the layout of the Potion’s classroom with its’ dome shaped ceilings resembled a cross—the Potions Master’s desk at the head, the brewing stations that housed the students neatly aligned in two rows across the room. The walls were packed with shelves that housed all kinds of flasks and containers, each labeled carefully in a neat, black handwriting. Suzy made her way through the arched door frame and strode through the space, discovering that the transverse arm of the classroom allowed room for two more brewing stations—those hadn’t been there during her time as a student.

Professor Snape was seated at his desk in the front of the room and though Suzy had a habit of being as subtle as a brick, the Potion’s Master didn’t seem to have noticed her arrival. Hunched over his desk and his dark hair framing his face, Severus was utterly engrossed in his work; the quill moved smoothly over a piece of parchment as he jotted down whatever he deemed necessary to record. Though it was the end of a long first day of teaching—Suzy couldn’t imagine that her nemesis actually enjoyed his job—Severus didn’t look as dark & broody as he usually did. His face didn’t bear its usual mask of contempt, but showed remnants of utter peace instead.

Suzy’s steps faltered. She had seen him like this before, a long time ago. He had been studying by the lake when she had accidentally stumbled upon him—looking almost exactly like this. At that time, she didn’t have the courage to talk to him so she simply stomped on, her destination unknown to both of them. But considering she had just marched into his classroom, stomping on was not an option—unless Severus had no problem letting her into his private quarters.

‘Good afternoon Professor Brown,’ Severus greeted Suzy, breaking the spell. His dark eyes shot up from his work and swept over her frame before fixating on her face. ‘You are disturbing my peace and quiet. What can I help you with?’ ‘Good afternoon Professor Snape,’ she replied while mustering a friendly smile—though she’d rather give him the middle finger for reminding her of the awful fact that she had pined after him. ‘I wouldn’t dream to intrude upon your halo of brilliancy unless I had no other choice.’ His tone was as dry as the parchment he was writing on. ‘How considerate of you, Professor.’ Suzy suppressed a sigh, deciding to come to her point right away. ‘Listen, my stash of ink bottles mysteriously disappeared today. Do you know where I can find a vial or two?’ ‘Are you sure the students didn’t take them? Or could you simply have misplaced them yourself?’ Severus inquired in his lazy tone as he dipped his quill in his own ink and went on with his writing. Leave it up to Severus Snape to conclude she was either some gullible lass or able to simply lose her possessions; how characteristic. Suzy narrowed her eyes and chewed upon her cheek. ‘I’m not stupid,’ she informed him. ‘I checked.’ He eyed her for a moment, as if he was weighing her statement. ‘Madam Pince keeps some supplies for the staff to use,’ he then told her as he laid down his quill and fastened the lid on his inkpot. ‘She’ll be more than happy to help you.’ She snorted. ‘I doubt it.’

Ah, Madam Pince. A character Suzy certainly hadn’t missed, at all. The librarian was as friendly as the Whomping Willow and always had treated Suzy like some book-destroying bandit, though the latter handled her books with great care—except that one time where she accidentally had knocked over her ink pot on Myths of the East. Strangely enough, the stain that the jet black mass had caused proved to be quite disastrous—not even the Wiping Spell had saved her ass and Suzy had been forced to return the book in its new state. Naturally, Madam Pince had hated her since, practically refusing to lend Suzy another book. It had impacted her studies until Professor Flitwick had stepped in, but even after that Suzy’s trips to the library had never been the same.

‘You doubt it.’ Professor Snape repeated lazily while leaning on his elbows, fingers weaved together and a polite expression dominating his face. ‘I highly doubt Madam Pince will do me a favor, she has hated my guts since an incident during my time as a student,’ Suzy replied while silently wondering who she deemed more unpleasant: Madam Pince or the specimen in front of her. ‘But I will try my luck anyway,’ she went on, backing away. There was no way in hel(l) she was going to ask him directly for a vial of ink, asshole. ‘Thank you.’ ‘I can assure you that Madam Pince distrusts every living being in this castle, whether they are students or a member of the staff,’ Severus called after her as he set aside his parchment. ‘Which means despite your own beliefs, you’re not that special.’ ‘Ah, I’m not?!’ She questioned, covering her heart with both her hands. ‘And here I was, thinking I was a complex, mysterious and special being… Why must you wound me like this?’ ‘Is this a sorry attempt to be humorous, Susannah?’ ‘I’m trying my best, Severus,’ she shot back. ‘But you’re a hard crowd to please.’ ‘Then spare us both the misery and stop trying—’

An awful, loud screech echoed through the dungeons. Snape’s expression distorted into something that hung between disgust and annoyance. Suzy heaved a sigh. ‘That would be Hel,’ she said. ‘One would think she knows where I am, I just left—’

‘Ah, Suzy!’ Amos cheered, leaning in the doorway; his arrival in the dungeons had been drowned out by Hel’s screeches. ‘And Professor Snape! How was your first day?’ ‘Helena!’ Suzy called loudly, ignoring her ex. ‘Use your common sense, honey! I’m next door!’

There was a short silence, followed by a loud whine. Suzy groaned. ‘I swear she’s intelligent, she just had a trying day. Hold on, I’ll be right back—’

Without waiting for a reply, she hurried from her colleague’s classroom to the hallway. She peeked through the door and was met with a small dragon clawing frantically in her comfortable bedding. Upon seeing her human, Hel yelped and flew against Suzy’s chest. ‘It’s alright, little monster,’ Suzy murmured as she cradled the dragon in her embrace. 'I'm here. But you have to promise we will work on it, okay?’

She then made her way back to Professor Snape’s classroom, where Amos was happily chatting away to his colleague, the latter being his usual dark & broody self. ‘Students love to hear about adventures from the field,’ Amos boasted. ‘Which I have plenty to share, of course.’ Professor Snape eyed the young man with disdain, already thoroughly done with this kind of boasting. ‘Certainly,’ he remarked in his lazy tone. ‘You should be proud you’re able to inspire the students this way, Professor Warrington. What will you do when your stories run out?’

‘Then he will tell them again,’ Suzy filled in with a smile as she draped Hel’s tail around her neck—out of harm’s way. ‘And he will be offended when you make him aware of that fact.’ ‘Now my dear Suze, you know that’s not true,’ Amos countered with a friendly grin. ‘When did I tell you the same thing twice?!’ ‘Usually when we meet at the pub and you’re already drunk,’ Suzy said matter-of-factly. ‘It’s the stage before you end up in a brawl with one of the other patrons because they accuse you of being a pompous bastard and beg you to shut up.’

For a moment, Amos just stood there and blinked—apparently taken aback by her brutal honesty. Then, he burst into laughter. ‘Sorry,’ Suzy murmured, though a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. ‘But you asked for it.’

‘While it’s comforting to know Professor Brown is painfully rude to everyone in her vicinity, I’d like to state that others are still trying to do their work,’ Professor Snape cut them short, his tone urgent. ‘If you please.’ ‘Of course,’ Amos agreed with a broad smile. ‘It was a busy day, I’d say.’ He turned to Suzy, as if they had arrived together. ‘Shall we proceed?’ ‘Yeah,’ she said, turning to the door. ‘I just need to find Madam Pince, but after that I’m all yours.’ Amos flinched—he too had been banned from the library for life for some incident that involved Peeves. ‘All mine sounds perfect, but what do you need that old toad for?’ ‘Someone stole my ink,’ she replied as they made their way to the entrance of Professor Snape’s classroom. ‘Can’t you lend her some ink, Professor?’ Amos asked, turning to Professor dark & broody. ‘Madam Pince hates Suze, everyone knows that. She’ll rather have her whole library burn down than do Suze a favor.’

Suzy groaned internally. While Amos was absolutely right, she’d rather have him not defend her case—Professor dark & broody wouldn’t be inclined in the slightest to help her. She turned around and leaned against the doorpost, eyeing Severus defiantly while patiently awaiting his next move.

There was a short silence, in which both parties observed each other. Professor Snape looked like he couldn’t wait to have the both of them out of his sight—while he sat perfectly still, his eyes brimmed with utter disdain. ‘Professor Brown didn’t ask,’ he finally noted, though they both were aware of the fact that she—albeit indirectly—had. ‘If her need had been that dire,’ Severus continued as he picked up the inkpot on his desk and held it up for Suzy. ‘She should have made that clear.’

Their gazes met, hazel tones scorching their dark counterparts in a battle of wills. There were several things Suzy would love to make clear to Severus’ stupid ass, but unfortunately all her points were a tad unprofessional to utter out loud—though that hadn’t stopped her before, she’d better not dig her own grave further. Suzy forced herself to smile a little bit too sweetly instead. ‘You’re too kind, Professor,’ she thanked him. ‘But I’m in the mood for a walk. I will try my luck with the librarian, as you previously suggested I should.’

Without waiting for a reply, or Amos for that matter, she exited the classroom.

The soles of her Oxford shoes stomped upon the same slab stones a second time that afternoon, once again alerting the students that roamed through the corridors of her and her dragon’s presence. Their stares burned onto Suzy’s back as they whispered her name from the shadows, but Suzy merely squared her shoulders and pressed on. She was in no mood to care how she might come across. Besides, soon the interest in Hel and her would pass, as things do in such cases—for now they were just a distraction from the mundane.

It was safe to say that time hadn’t softened Madam Pince; the librarian still was the same frigid bitch she’d always been and naturally, Suzy’s encounter with the toad had been a disaster.

‘And why should I grant your request?’ Madam Pince had asked her. ‘You do not have the best track record with ink pots, Miss Brown. As you are well aware.’ ‘That track record was from my days as a student,’ Suzy had countered as politely as she could muster. ‘I’m a member of staff now.’ ‘I don’t care whether you are the prime minister,’ the librarian had said. ‘You have proven again and again that you do not handle Hogwarts’ properties with the caution and respect they deserve.’ ‘I teach here and I need supplies to grade my papers,’ Suzy had insisted. ‘Like I said, you have to earn the right to handle Hogwarts’ properties, which includes the supplies.’ ‘Everyone earns that right the moment they enroll here, whether it is to be educated or to educate others,’ Suzy had bristled through gritted teeth. ‘I don’t see how I’m different.’ The librarian had crossed her arms. ‘The difference is your track record, as I already have explained previously, Miss Brown.’ An outraged hiss had escaped Suzy, which made Hel flap her wings nervously. ‘And how do you expect me to clear my track record if you don’t allow me to do so?!’ ‘That is not my problem,’ the librarian had stated as she watched the little dragon with a sour expression. ‘Now take that fire breathing thing with you, Miss Brown. Before you both destroy all my precious books.’

And that was it. Suzy could have protested further—or called in Professor McGonagall—but she didn’t grant the librarian the satisfaction. There were countless other colleagues who would lend her a vial of ink and if the whole castle proved to be out of it, she could always write the Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop in Hogsmeade to send her some—

Never mind, writing a letter without ink—unless she used her own blood, which was a rather edgy alternative—was going to be a tad difficult. Back to the colleague theory then. But who would be so kind?

Suzy’s steps faltered. The Arithmancy classroom was just a few flights of stairs away, but aside from exchanging a few pleasantries with Professor Vector, Suzy hadn’t gotten further acquainted with the Arithmancy enthusiast. Professor Vector seemed strict—a younger McGonagall, but without the excellent sense of humor—it was doubtful if the interesting tale of Madam Pince and the quest for a vial of ink would find any sympathy within the borders of the Arithmancy classroom. What about Professor McGonagall, then? Surely the Transfiguration teacher would be willing to help her former student out; though that also meant that said former student had to explain she had misplaced some of her personal possessions on her first day, which was utterly ridiculous. Suzy pursed her lips together and as her feet lingered in the corridor, she petted Hel’s spine. Professor Trelawney’s classroom was just a few floors above Professor Vector’s, alas one couldn’t enter the Divination tower without great personal risk—Sybill Trelawney was notorious for sprouting prophecies of doom upon her poor students and according to Professor Flitwick even the staff was bound to suffer from a prediction or two. Suzy wasn’t inclined to hear about her own untimely death—or a certain fate worse than that. Some things were better left forgotten.

Hel fidgeted on Suzy’s shoulder, encouraging her human to get a grip and move along. There were plenty of bugs to be chased in their shared office, after all—who needed teaching supplies anyway?

‘We could pester Amos for his spare inkpot,’ Suzy murmured to herself as she resumed her path. ‘Why haven’t we thought of that first?’

‘Professor Brown!’ Someone called after her. ‘Is that you?’ Suzy frowned, vaguely recognizing the distinguished tone, but not familiar enough with the timbre to remember the person that it belonged to. She turned on her heels and Hel, who hadn’t expected the sudden motion, dug her claws in her human’s shoulder while letting out a protesting whine. ‘Sorry, my sweet,’ Suzy told her pet, which earned her a dismissive growl. ‘Hi, Professor Sikander!’ She greeted her Muggle Studies colleague as he hastened in her direction. ‘I’m glad to see you’ve survived your first day in one piece!’ Professor Sikander smiled and inclined his head. ‘I’m glad to say I did, yes! And please, call me Arif. I’ve been called Professor too many times today.’ Suzy chuckled at the notion. ‘It’s pretty exhausting, is it not?’ ‘It’s rather terrifying,’ Arif noted as he straightened the forest green jumper that he had paired with dark brown trousers. ‘When everyone calls me Professor Sikander it sounds like I ought to be an expert in my field, but I have to confess I don’t know half as much as I would like.’ ‘I think you still know more about muggles than most wizards and witches in this castle,’ Suzy said. ‘Most aren’t that interested in the world beyond their own scope, which is a shame.’ ‘Both parties could benefit from one another,’ her colleague agreed, stepping aside to let a few students pass them by. ‘The muggle world has developed tremendously in the past decade, both in a materialistic and a technical sense.’ He paused, his dark gaze a little faraway. ‘Alas,’ he then continued with a sigh. ‘Both worlds are too focused on each other’s imperfections.’

That was true. Suzy knew few wizards and witches who possessed adequate knowledge about muggles and even fewer who were actually interested in the ways of the people they shared a country with. The wizarding world was shockingly stoical and old fashioned, and in Suzy’s opinion could do with a fresh perspective, even if it came from a non-magical source.

‘But how was your day, Professor Brown?’ Arif asked, his eyes shining kindly. ‘Was everything as you expected?’ His gaze shifted to Suzy’s draconic friend. ‘Hello, Hel. How was your day?’ Hel chirped. It was always nice to be included by other humans, though her interest always waned quickly when the topic wasn’t bugs or shiny stuff. ‘Call me Suzy, please,’ Suzy quickly corrected him. ‘Hel did well, considering the circumstances. Most of my students were enthralled by her presence, the second years wouldn’t stop asking me questions about her.’ ‘And with good reason!’ Arif agreed as he studied Hel’s features with great interest. ‘You don’t see a teacup dragon everyday, Suzy. I mean, you might, but unfortunate others have to live their lives deprived from the sight of these magnificent small creatures.’

Hel puffed up her small chest. Magnificent?! Hel(l) yes!

‘Seems like you paid attention during Care of Magical Creatures, Arif!’ Suzy said with a laugh and she tickled her draconic friend under the chin. ‘This little bugger loves flattery. The more the better.’ ‘As we all do, don’t we?’ her colleague argued. ‘I can’t imagine who would mind some cajolery from time to time, you?’

There were a few people that came to mind—Severus Snape, Madam Pince—but Suzy had no intention of sharing this with her Muggle Studies colleague. At least, not yet.

‘On the topic of teaching, I heard you arguing with Madam Pince just now in the library,’ Arif changed the subject with a knowing smile. ‘What have you done to earn yourself a track record that still exists long after your graduation from Hogwarts?’ Suzy heaved a weary sigh and crossed her arms. ‘It was nothing, I swear. I accidentally damaged one of Madam Pince’s books once, and she still holds it over my head as if I murdered someone.’ Arif laughed. ‘Books are an important and fragile property to possess, Suzy.’ ‘Ugh, you sound just like her!’ Suzy groaned, feeling a bit chastised all over again. ‘I know her books are her children, but I didn’t do it on purpose, I swear.’ He shrugged. ‘No matter, I”m not one to judge you. Besides, you just needed some ink today, right?’ ‘I do,’ she said. ‘I had three vials, but they all mysteriously disappeared, though I was in my classroom the whole time.’ ‘You can borrow one of mine,’ Arif promised. ‘Walk back to my office?’

With one of Arif’s ink pots in her hand, Suzy and Hel made it back to the dungeons. As Suzy descended the stairs to her quarters, she hummed in delight. Arif had offered her tea and they had spent an hour discussing muggle music, which was both informative and highly amusing. It was nice to make more friends at Hogwarts, especially if that meant she could avoid any further interactions with her neighbor. As Suzy walked past the Potion’s classroom, she could not help but give it the stink eye and whisper a passive aggressive ‘asshole’ at the closed door. Not that it helped one bit, but what was she to do?!

Suzy opened the door to her own space, but instead of finding solace in an empty classroom she found Amos Warrington lounging on her desk, bearing an annoying grin from ear to ear. Hel growled at the visitor and retreated to the comfortable cushions of her throne.

‘What are you still doing here?’ ‘I followed you on your quest to the library, but I ran into Peeves and—’ her ex-boyfriend paused and fumbled with a jet black vial that lay in his hands. ‘I decided to wait for you here, because you said that you’d be all mine after you had slain the toad.’ Suzy crossed her arms. ‘Peeves? What happened? I hope you haven’t rekindled your bromance, like Professor Dumbledore instructed you?’ Amos smirked. ‘Of course not. I—errr—I sort of ignored him.’ Suzy pinched the bridge of her nose. In the dictionary of pompous bastard—a language she understood pretty well by now—sort of definitely meant Amos did the exact thing he was told not to. ‘I’m not going to deal with your inability to leave Peeves alone, Amos.’ She told him as she watched him throw the vial of ink in the air. ‘I’m not even sure why—’

Upon recognizing the vial for what it was, Suzy’s eyes flicked upon the vial in her own hands. ‘Where did you get that?!’ ‘It was already here when I came in,’ Amos defended himself as Suzy snatched the bottle from his grasp. The glass was cold to the touch and the container had an unfamiliar shape; this one was certainly not the one from her own stash. ‘Who—’ Suzy mumbled. ‘It came with a note,’ Amos offered, grateful the topic of his longstanding feud with Peeves had lost Suzy’s interest—for now. He snatched the piece of paper from her desk and waved it in front of her face. The awful grin he had born when Suzy had entered the classroom, returned to its former glory. ‘Care to know what it said, Suze?’ He sang. ‘Amos—’ Suzy pleaded. ‘Please.’ He simply laughed. ‘Okay, okay. I will read it to you.’ ‘I’d rather have you give—’ Amos ignored her and leapt from her desk. ‘In case you manage to insult our librarian,’ he read in a solemn, low tone. ‘Don’t use too much, I want it back.’

Snape.

Suzy inhaled sharply, her fingers groping the ink pots in each hand. ‘That insufferable piece of—’ she muttered through gritted teeth. ‘If I ever get the… I am going to murder him!’ Amos was watching her intently, his blue eyes shining with delight. ‘Why do you hate him so much, Suzy?’ He inquired. ‘I know you and you’re not the person to worry about strangers, especially the likes of Severus Snape. Has something transpired between the two of you before?’ Suzy waved her hand dismissively. ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she scoffed. ‘Of course not. I know Snape as well as you know him; a fellow student who was a year above us.’ ‘You are certain?!’ ‘Yes, you oaf,’ she told him with a sigh. ‘Don’t you remember?’ Amos shook his head. ‘No, I know Snape’s a year older than us. I meant that you’re not one to condemn someone you claim not to know that easily. Or has this to do with the fact that he’s a death eater?’ ‘He was a death eater, Amos,’ Suzy felt obliged to say. ‘And my distaste for the man has nothing to do with that. The interactions I had with him were… unsatisfactory. He finds me rude and I think he’s an absolute dickhead.’ ‘Truly?’ Amos said and Suzy could see the cogwheels in his head turn. ‘Those are pretty strong feelings for someone you claim not to know.’ She folded her arms. ‘You hate Peeves.’ ‘Exactly, I’m glad you mentioned it. Peeves and I have history together, which means in order to hate one another, one has to actually know—’ ‘Amos, stop it!’ Suzy argued, exasperation washing over her, which made Hel shuffle uncomfortably in her beddings. ‘Nothing of importance has transpired between Snape and me!’

Amos didn’t seem convinced, aside from the fact that his Hogwarts’ former sweetheart was hiding something from him. While his fingers still had the piece of parchment firmly in his grip, Amos rose from Suzy’s desk. ‘Have it your way, Suze,’ he purred as he stuffed the note in the pocket of her blouse and gave her a wink. ‘But you forget I’m an auror and I have a knack for finding out things I’m not supposed to know about.’

Suzy gritted her teeth and listened as her ex left her classroom, his stride pompous and self-assured. Amos claimed to know her, but she knew him too. Once Amos Warrington found something of interest, he would get to the bottom of it.

Shit.

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