#minerva delivered once again

[ninrinv]

SUB MINGI DOES SOMETHING TO ME GODDAMN

Unspoken Desires. || Song Mingi.

Summary: You find out about your boyfriend's secret fantasy and suggest trying it out immediately, wanting your man to feel as good as possible. Who would've thought it would bring you as much pleasure as him...

Pairing: Song Mingi x Reader

Genre: Smut (mdni)

Wordcount: 2.7k

Warnings: Dom!Reader x Sub!Mingi (kinda?), Reader is described to have big boobs, Tit fuck, teasing, both degrading & praise (Mingi receiving), cum on chest, cum eating, fingering, oral, edging, squirting

A/N: Not me posting twice a week?!?! Yeah, it will never happen again, lol. Anyways, this is my first full smut! Had this fantasy with Mingi for so long, it's about time I finally wrote it. Hope it isn't too bad, but I actually kinda like this very innocent drabble🥰 Thanks a lot to my lovely beta @wingsofimagery, you're such a blessing. Divider credits to @firefly-graphics.

Taglist: @yunho-mp3 @kyukyustar, @hwapetals, @foxinnie8, @preciouswoozi, @aussiekpopginger, @kitten4sannie

“You are so fucking pathetic, aren't you? So obsessed with my boobs, hm? Why did you never tell me how badly you wanted to fuck them, Mingi? Tell me,” you whispered, pushing your tits together, making the man before you groan and whine, “how badly do you want your fat cock in between them, big boy?”

He swallowed hard, his cheeks flushing crimson red as he struggled to find the right words to respond to your teasing.

“I... I don't know,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper as he averted his gaze, unable to meet your intense stare, “I never thought you'd be interested in... that.”

You couldn't help but smirk at his flustered response, a surge of satisfaction rushing through you as you watched him squirm under your scrutiny. With a teasing glint in your eyes, you leaned in closer, pressing your breasts together enticingly as you whispered, “But you are interested, aren't you? Tell me, Mingi. How badly do you want your cock between my tits? I heard you moaning earlier, Min. Don't you dare lie to me now.”

Mingi's breath hitched in his throat at your provocative words, his eyes darkening with desire as he met your gaze once more.

“More than anything,” he admitted, his voice hoarse, filled with need and eagerness, “I've dreamt about it for so long, but I- I never thought-”

“Don't think too much, big boy. Do it instead. Now's your chance,” you murmured, seizing the opportunity to take control once more, guiding Mingi's hands to your breasts as you pushed them together, creating a tight, inviting crevice for his big, throbbing cock.

“Show me what you've been dreaming about.”

With a wicked, almost evil smile, you watched as Mingi took the bait, his hands eagerly grasping your breasts as he positioned himself between them. His cock, hard and heavy, pressed against your soft flesh, the anticipation sending shivers down your spine.

As Mingi's cock slid between your big breasts, you let out a soft moan of pleasure, relishing in the sensation of his hard length pressing against your skin. Fuck, you were starting to enjoy this yourself, and not just because of your eager, boob-obsessed boyfriend.

His hands, firm yet gentle, squeezed your breasts firmly together as he began to move, setting a steady rhythm that sent waves of desire through your body.

“F-fuck babe, do you like that too?” Mingi whined. You loved to see this big, strong man being such a mess for you and your tits, and you had to agree; seeing his fat cock between your boobs made you almost cum on the spot.

You couldn't help but grin at his words, feeling a surge of satisfaction at the obvious effect you were having on him.

“I've been thinking about this too,” you admitted, your voice filled with need as you arched your back, pressing your breasts even closer together, “I want to feel every inch of you, Mingi.”

“You've been driving me crazy with those tits of yours. I-it's about time I got to enjoy them properly,” your boyfriend said, sweat dripping from his forehead.

“Cum on my tits, Mingi, please,” you begged him breathlessly.

Mingi's breath hitched in his throat at your words, his movements becoming more and more sloppy as he sought to please you.

“Fuck, you're so hot,” he groaned, his voice rough with desire as he quickened his pace, his cock sliding effortlessly between your slick breasts.

Each thrust sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body, and the fire of desire within you reached entirely new heights.

“I love it when you fuck my tits like this, Mingi,” you moaned, your voice dripping with arousal, “You're such a good boy for me, aren't you? Such a filthy whore and all that just to get your stupid, fat cock between my tits.”

Mingi's breath caught in his throat at your words, his movements faltering for a moment before he regained his rhythm with renewed determination. The primal sound of his grunts and groans filled the air, mingling with your own cries of pleasure as you urged him on.

“Fuck, yes, just like that,” you encouraged, your voice a desperate plea for more, “I want you to use my tits however you like, Mingi. Fuck them until you can't hold back any longer.”

Mingi's pace quickened at your command, his cock driving relentlessly between your breasts. The tension in the room grew with each passing moment, the air thick with the heady scent of sex and desire.

His hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you closer to him as he chased his release.

But you weren't ready to let him finish just yet. You wanted to draw out the pleasure, to savor every moment of this intense intimacy with Mingi. With a mischievous glint in your eye, you shifted slightly, changing the angle just enough to keep him on the brink without pushing him over.

“Please,” Mingi whimpered, his voice pleading as he rocked against you, his cock aching, precum already oozing out of his sensitive tip, “I need to... I need to cum.”

“Not yet, big boy,” you teased, your voice dripping with wicked delight, “I'm not finished with you.”

With that, you took full control, setting a slower, more deliberate pace as you guided Mingi's movements. You reveled in the power you held over him, the way this big, strong man entirely surrendered to your touch, nothing but shameless moans and whimpers leaving his plush lips.

Mingi's breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling with anticipation as you brought him to the brink again and again, teasing him with the promise of release yet never fulfilling his wish.

“I can't,” Mingi cried out, desperate to finally cum, “C-can't hold it in any longer- shit!”

“Do it,” you ordered, your breasts jiggling as you made yourself bounce on the soft bed, “paint me in your cum, babe.”

With a deep groan of satisfaction, Mingi finally reached his peak, his hot seed erupting from his cock in thick, creamy ribbons that splattered across your breasts. You watched in awe as he came undone, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm as he emptied himself between your tits. With trembling hands, you reached out to scoop up some of his cum, bringing it to your lips with a wicked smile.

You savored the taste of Mingi's essence, reveling in the salty sweetness that danced across your tongue. It was a heady, intoxicating flavor that left you craving more, your desire for him only intensifying with each delicious drop.

“Mmm, you taste so good, Min,” you purred, your sultry voice lulling him in completely, and all Mingi could do was watch you continue licking his cum from your fingers, making him slowly go insane. He couldn't believe how bold and shameless you were, and yet, he found himself utterly captivated by your uninhibited display of desire.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, his voice filled with lust as he watched you, “You... you're incredible.”

You met his gaze with a grin on your face, your lips glistening with his release as you continued to tease him with your tongue swirling around your cum soaked fingers. The sight of you enjoying his cum sent an entire new surge of pleasure right through Mingi's body, his cock already twitching with renewed arousal.

“You like that, Mingi?” you purred, your voice dripping with seduction as you leaned in closer, your breath hot against his ear, “Do you like seeing me taste you like this?”

Mingi could only nod in response; his mind clouded with desire as he watched you. He had never felt so desired, so wanted, and it was driving him wild and crazy.

“God, yes,” he groaned, his voice hoarse as he reached out to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing your lips, “I love it. I love everything about you.”

You smirked at his admission, feeling immense satisfaction at your effect on him. Mingi may have been the big, strong man on the outside, but on the inside, he was just as vulnerable and needy as you were, if not even more.

He turned his gaze to you, his eyes filled with a mixture of awe, adoration, and lust. He couldn't believe what had just happened, couldn't believe how incredible it felt to be with you like this.

“You... you're amazing,” he stammered, his voice still shaky from the intensity of his climax “I've never... I've never felt anything like that before.”

You smiled at him, dropping the act of the dom persona he loved, your heart swelling with affection at his words.

“You were pretty amazing yourself,” you replied, your voice soft with affection as you reached out to stroke his cheek, “I've never met anyone who could fuck my tits like you do.”

Mingi's cheeks flushed a deep shade of red at your words, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He couldn't believe he was hearing such words from you, couldn't believe that you actually enjoyed being with him like this.

“I... I'm glad you liked it,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper as he leaned into your touch, big, doe eyes staring up at you, “I've been... I've been dreaming about this for so long. Thanks for fulfilling that wish of mine.”

“You're welcome. But babe,” you whined, a pout appearing on your face, “I haven't cum yet. Don't you think that's a little unfair, big boy?”

Mingi's eyes widened at your words, a mixture of surprise and concern flashing across his face. He hadn't even realized that you hadn't reached your own climax yet, busy consumed in his own pleasure.

“Oh god, I'm so sorry,” he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine remorse as he realized his mistake, “I got carried away; I didn't mean to…”

You couldn't help but chuckle at his earnest response.

“It's okay, Mingi,” you reassured him, giving him a quick kiss on his lips, “But now that you know, what are you going to do about it?”

Mingi's eyes sparkled eagerly as he met your gaze, a newfound confidence rushing through his body.

“I'm going to make you cum, babe,” he declared, his voice filled with conviction as he leaned in closer, “I'll do whatever it takes to make you feel good.”

With that, Mingi set to work, his hands and mouth exploring every inch of your body with skill and determination. He kissed and licked his way down your chest, leaving a trail of fire in his wake as he made his way to your throbbing core.

You whined and begged, eager for your own release after waiting so long, but despite your boyfriend's skilled tongue and long fingers, which usually got the job done pretty quickly, your orgasm continued to stay out of reach.

Because there was one thing and one thing only on your mind: his big, fat cock sliding between your tits, and how much he loved it, looking all pathetic and hungry as he practically humped you.

“Mingi,” you cried out, a tear rolling down your cheek out of frustration, “It's not working!”

Helplessly, he looked up from between your legs, and you saw a hint of self-consciousness flickering in his eyes.

“Babe, what am I doing wrong? Y-you usually cum with my tongue and fingers.”

“It's not you, Mingi,” you reassured him, your voice thick with emotion as you reached out to stroke his hair lovingly, “You're doing everything right. It's just…”

You blushed deeply, hiding your face in the pillow out of shame.

“Hey, you can be honest with me, babe. Don't hide from me,” your boyfriend whispered.

“Please fuck my tits again!”, you practically screamed into the pillow. Mingi's eyes widened in surprise at your confession, a mixture of disbelief and arousal flickering across his features.

“You mean... that's what you need?” he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty, “B-but how is this pleasurable for you, babe?”

“I can't stop thinking about it,” you admitted, “please, Min, please do it again. J-just like earlier.” A surge of desire swept through you at the thought, your body trembling with anticipation as Mingi's eyes darkened with desire.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, his voice rough with need as he crawled up your body, his cock twitching with anticipation. “I can do that. I can give you what you need, babe.”

Mingi couldn't fucking believe his luck, the thought of how you enjoyed the tit fuck just as much as he did made him hard immediately.

He remembered the way he had moaned and begged for more just minutes earlier, and now, seeing you wanting it as much as he did, the man was determined to give you exactly that.

With that, he positioned himself between your breasts once again, his cock throbbing with need as he pressed it against your soft flesh. You gasped at the sensation, the heat of his arousal searing through you as he began to move, setting a steady rhythm almost immediately. The friction of his hard length against your skin sent shivers of pleasure racing through your veins, building the fire of desire within you to new heights.

You moaned and whimpered, unable to contain the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body as Mingi pounded your tits with increasing fervor.

The sight of him lost in pleasure; his face contorted with concentration as he sought to please you, only served to fuel your own desire. You reached up to cup your breasts, guiding Mingi's movements as you urged him on, desperate for more of the exquisite pleasure only he could provide.

“Mingi,” you gasped, your voice filled with need as you rocked against him, your body trembling with anticipation, “Fuck me harder, big boy. I need to feel you deep between my tits.”

Mingi's breath hitched in his throat at your words, his eyes darkening with desire as he quickened his pace, the bedframe crashing against the wall with each of his hard thrusts.

You could feel your climax slowly building, and just a few seconds earlier, waves of pure ecstasy were crashing over you, sending you spiraling into bliss as Mingi's cock pounded relentlessly between your breasts.

“W-wait Min, s-something isn't right-”

Without warning, a powerful wave of pleasure crashed over you, and you felt a gush of fluid erupt from your body, soaking both you and Mingi in a warm, sticky spray. You cried out, whimpering and moaning and screaming while Mingi watched in awe as you came apart beneath him, his own arousal reaching its peak as he continued his pace relentlessly. But for you, his eager movements faded into the background completely. Your eyes widened in shock and embarrassment as you realized what had just happened. You just squirted for the first time.

“O-oh my god,” you gasped, your cheeks flushing crimson as you tried to process the overwhelming sensation, “I'm so sorry, Mingi. I didn't mean to-”

But before you could finish your sentence, Mingi reached his high, his hot seed erupting once again from his cock in thick, creamy spurts that landed on your breasts and stomach.

“Fuck,” he groaned, eyes wide open, watching your pussy release more and more fluid. “That's so hot, babe. I had no idea you could do that.”

“Me neither”, you said.

Despite your initial embarrassment, you couldn't help but feel a surge of pride at Mingi's reaction. He wasn't repulsed or disgusted by your body's natural response; instead, he found it incredibly arousing and exciting.

With a newfound sense of confidence, you reached out to pull Mingi closer, pressing your lips to his in a passionate kiss, sending a thrill of excitement through you.

“Does that mean I can fuck your tits every time I want, babe? Since you loved it so much, you even fucking squirted?”, Mingi asked breathlessly, a huge grin on his swollen lips.

“Maybe, since you're such a good boy. You'd like that, huh?” you teased, your voice hoarse from all the screaming, “You really like seeing me enjoy a quick tit fuck this much, huh— dude, don’t tell me you're getting hard again?!”

[emeritusemeritus]

Turn back the hands of time. [Weasley twins x Reader]

Title: Turn back the hands of time.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader, (George Weasley x Reader later)

Timeline: Set six months after Fred’s Death.

Summary: What if you got the gift of time just to relive a moment with your deceased beloved one more time?

Warnings: Fred does the big sleep. Death. Grief, tears, emotional trauma. Use of a time turner (setting my own rules here). Mentions of marriage and kids. So much pain. McGonagall being a queen. Reader is implied Gryffindor.

I apologise, this one hurts. 🥀

The six months that had passed since the love of your life died had been the most intolerable, excruciating months of your life. Nothing brought you comfort anymore; every single thing in your life was attached to memories of him, bittersweet and painful memories you were forced to relive each and everyday by simply existing. Each day from the second you woke you were reminded of the painful fact that you had to carry on living whilst he couldn't. There was no future for you anymore, no more dreams of small weddings and long honeymoons, no blessings of little ones or fantasies of being an author, holed up in a small little cabin hidden away in the forest like you'd always planned with Fred.

He would aparate into the shop each day and you would have a home office with a big, fancy writing desk placed directly in front of a large window to view the scenery around you as you wrote. After closing the shop and settling up for the night, Fred would return home and you'd cook together, spending evenings on the decking under twinkling lights as you appreciated your simple life. You'd had it all planned out in fine detail, the future you were no longer destined to have.

George was naturally devastated too, utterly broken by the loss of his twin brother. You two, being the closest people to Fred, had found just a smidge of comfort in each other initially but over time Fred's loss had built a wedge between you both, each of you only serving as a reminder of what you had both lost.

You'd not only lost your soulmate but also your best friend along the way and the family that had taken you in and loved you as one of their own.

You'd pulled away from them all the same week of Fred's funeral, finding it unfathomably hard to be around them all, the missing piece constantly highlighted in the sea of familiar red hair. 

A good day for you these days meant accomplishing something as mundane as showering or eating some sort of meal. You knew you'd lost weight, the clothes you always wore hung off your body now the same way Fred's clothes used to. But you couldn't seem to stomach anything, the lingering pain and grief creating a sickness in you that couldn't be soothed.

The pain never truly ever left you but it did come in waves. Most the time is was like a background noise, a constant humming that ran through you like a curse but sometimes it was panic inducing pain, taking away your ability to breathe and function as haunting sobs wracked your body until you were crippled with agony, regret and hopeless longing.

You'd had a good day, as far as they went, managing to crawl out of bed and into the shower before trying to distract yourself with some muggle tv when a simple letter, delivered by owl, took your breath away once more.

Dear y/n,

I hope this letter finds you well, my thoughts have been with you each and every day since the battle. In Dumbledore's honour, we are conducting a memorial for the fallen and I would like to personally invite you to celebrate in the life of the loved ones we have lost. Fred's life will be celebrated by his staff, friends, family and fellow students as we pay respect to their bravery and sacrifice.

I would be honoured if you would join us.

With profound sympathy,

Minerva Mcgonagall.

You couldn't breathe again, tears streaming down your face as you read the letter through misty eyes, having to blink away the tears constantly to refocus your vision.

You didn't want to go. Your initial instinct was to burn the letter and hide from it, isolating yourself further and further until no one of your past life could ever find you again, lest contact you by owl. But you couldn't do that to Fred. He deserved everyone he loved and that loved him to celebrate his life, to tell stories of his triumphs and notorious endeavours in his time at Hogwarts. You couldn't be selfish this time, not for your Fred.

——

As you stepped into the all too familiar castle alone, you felt a dichotomy of feelings barrage you all at once. This had been your home since you were 11 years old, the place where you finally had a sense of belonging, where your best memories had been made, the place that you had met and fell in love with Fred Weasley and the place he'd died.

The castle had undergone extensive repairs and looked better than ever since the destruction from the war. Walking through the halls you felt both soothed and conflicted, the trembling of your hands never once leaving as you anticipated seeing everyone again.

"Y/n/n?" A familiar voice called from behind you, making your eyes close momentarily from the pain in their voice. You turned to see Ginny stood there, staring at you with a worried look on her face. She looked well, pretty, in sharp contrast to you.

"How?" She began to say as she walked towards you, thinking better of the statement before throwing her arms around you, "I'm so glad you're here."

You hummed a reply, already feeling an invisible weight tugging at you as you held your friend, the sister in law you'd once anticipated.

"Everyone's through here," she says, taking you by the hand as she led you towards the great hall, before you could protest. Your stomach roiled with nerves as you tried to keep your eyes down, not ready to see everyone again.

"Y/n?" A voice called out, the tone of shock and worry so intricately laced in the maternal tone it was hard to hear it. Molly. You raised your eyes just in time to see her move quickly towards you and embrace you tightly, the all too familiar smell of her and their home encasing you entirely. You bit your lip hard to stop the tears from falling, already succumbing to your overwhelming emotions as hard as you tried to deny them. Each Weasley took the time to give you a warm hug, even Arthur who had cradled you in his arms surprisingly tight.

When the last hug didn't come, you looked up with tear stricken eyes towards the body that had made no effort to walk towards you, George. He looked just as haunted as you, tired and frail as he looked upon you with sad eyes, tears silently falling down his face. You stared at each other for a moment, unsure of how to proceed until your lip quivered and a small sob escaped you. George rushed forward and pulled you straight into his chest, neither of you caring about the tears and sobs that fell from you both, too fixed upon each other to give a single care about the onlookers.

"I'm so sorry," you both said at exactly the same time, earning a little chuckle from you both at the ridiculousness of it all.

You and George never left each others side the entire  time, clutching hold of each other's hand as you navigated the painful memories and eulogies, each giving a squeeze intermittently to let the other know that you were still there.

Mcgonagall had called you away some time before the official memorial had began, walking with you towards the office she now held that was once Dumbledore's. George had reluctantly dropped your hand with a quiet, frantic whisper that you'd better be back soon.

"It's good to see you y/n," she says, gesturing for you to step towards the desk. You'd always felt a kinship with you previous head of house, both of you having a flair for transfiguration and underneath the sometimes harsh exterior, she had a wicked sense of humour.

"You too professor," you replied, trying to force an honest smile onto your face, not having used those muscles in months.

"Oh professor," she laughs, "call me Minerva," you says, scandalised at the notion of you calling her professor. You smiled warmly, this time not having to force the smile, feeling surprisingly comforted by her.

"You know, I always knew you and Mr Weasley would become an item, right from the day he turned your water goblet into a rock," she smiled, taking her seat as she gazed up at you fondly, "I am so sorry for your loss."

You chuckled at the memory, for once not feeling complete anguish at the thoughts of you and Fred. It was your first transfiguration class and you'd been tasked with turning your pets into water goblets as every first year is expected to do. You'd succeeded first try and Fred had then turned said water goblet into a small rock before your very eyes. To his surprise you had barked out a laugh instead of cursing him out for the ridiculous prank and you'd been firm friends with both the twins ever since. Only in your third year did you begin to catch real feelings for him and by your fourth year you were completely smitten. Before fifth year began, just before the Weasley's trip to Egypt, you were officially dating, finally saying I love you and the rest was history, never parting from each other once you'd found your person. You'd attended the yule ball together, been hand in hand for every task, even as the twins gambled their way through the games. You'd spent hours upon hours inventing, perfecting and packaging their inventions with them and had been been included every step of the way in designing and opening the store. You smiled in pure nostalgia as Mcgonagall's comment triggers a pool of memories for you.

"I've never told anyone this, except for Albus, but when I was a young woman, I lost the love of my life too," she says, bringing you back to the present. You look at her with a sympathetic look though with wide eyes, shocked by her revelation. "He didn't die so it's not exactly the same but he might as well have." Her eyes begin to cloud over as you can see painful memories coming to the forefront of her mind.

"I was a much younger woman then, having graduated from Hogwarts and securing a position in the ministry, the department of magical law enforcement. Before I left for London, I returned home and met a local farm boy, a muggle. Fred Weasley reminded me a great deal of him, perhaps that's why his passing has been so hard for me aswell. He was handsome, clever and so terribly quick witted he even gave me a run my money".

You huffed out a little laugh, knowing how fierce and funny she could be underneath the professional exterior. She sent you a warm smile as you listened intently to her story.

"He proposed not long after our whirlwind summer, right in the middle of a ploughed field owned by his father. I didn't hesitate for a second and said yes straight away, blindsided by love. After I'd accepted, I realised that the future I would be creating for myself would cut me off from the Wizarding world completely, just as my mother had when she married my father. I realised I couldn't live a life the only place I felt like I belonged, having to lock my wand away for ever, unhappily drifting through a life in which I'd rejected the gift I'd been given. Three days later I left for London alone though I never stopped loving Dougal."

"What happened to him?" You asked quietly, not wanting to upset her. She sighed in return, looking down at the desk.

"My mother informed me years later that he married the daughter of another farm owner in Caithness, I never heard anything else after that."

"I'm so sorry Minerva," you said honestly, feeling a tightness in your chest at hearing her story. Truthfully it had been your own form of distraction from your own pain and you were immensely thankful for that.

She sent you a sad smile, nodding her head gently as she looked up at you.

"You're probably wondering why I told you all of this," she says with a smile. Before you can protest, she raises her hand warmly like a mother would and smiled, "I have two points to sharing this personal story with you. The first, is that time truly does heal wounds. You may feel as if you will never be rid of this pain, not knowing how to go on or feeling as if you don't want to, and that my dear is perfectly understandable but every month will get easier, every year you will begin to feel less pain and more pleasant nostalgia until you find a version of yourself that had bloomed from the pain."

Your eyes had filled with tears again at her kind words. Something in her tone made you truly believe that this was true and that you did have a chance of healing eventually, but nothing was comforting enough to immediately relieve the pain, nor set your mind at ease.

"The second, is a gift of sorts," she says, reaching into the top drawer of her desk which she unlocks with a wave of her wand. You frowned gently, not knowing how to respond as she pulls out a little wooden box. She casts another spell and the box opens with an intricate unravelling of the wooden box.

Your breath catches in your throat at you recognise the contents immediately; the time turner that Hermione had been given by Dumbledore all those years ago.

"I'm sure you remember this, as I believe yourself and miss Granger made excellent use of this in your third and fifth respective years." You could do nothing but nod, overwhelmed at the sudden implication of the possibilities of the gift.

"As you know, nothing can be altered by reversing the time, everything will always happened exactly as it always had. I know how tempting it could be to try and fix the projection of our lives, but consider this a gentle warning as to why it is not practical to do so," she says, handing you the time turner. You feel the cold, heavy weight of the time piece in your palm as you inspect it, remembering every detail.

"I always wish I'd gotten more time with Dougal, even just to relive a singular moment or to see him one last time but I was never brave enough, never wanting to jeopardise how far I'd come in my healing. But for you, the gift of time could be invaluable."

You began to cry silently, tears unable to be held back any longer at her kind gesture.

"Thank you, so much," you said through the tears, struggling to hold back your sobs. She immediately stood and moved to wrap her arms around your shoulders, her cape falling over you as if she was protecting you entirely.

"You always were one of my very favourite students," she says, rubbing your shoulder. "Despite the trouble, the mischief was usually rather funny," she admitted. Both of you laughed for a moment at her words, your free hand coming up to wipe at your eyes.

"If I were you, I'd chose a memory that you weren't originally around for, you'll get more time with him. Unless you want to watch from afar," she says, straightening herself out, though keeping a firm hand on your shoulder.

You wracked your brain for a time that you weren't around Fred, finding it hard to think of any specifics. Showing up randomly at the burrow would only pose deep, unanswerable questions that you couldn't explain, everything had to fit to the exact projection of exactly what had happened.

A vague memory of Harry popped into your mind, a tale he'd told about the twins that had been endearing to say the least. You remembered him telling you about seeing Fred and George comforting a young boy in the courtyard that had been victim to Umbridge's unorthodox punishments whilst you were in detention with Snape. Perfect. There was no chance of you accidentally showing up, knowing that you'd gone straight to the common room after that particular detention and it wouldn't interrupt the greater timeline.

You closed your eyes and estimated how many turns you'd need, settling on a little over three full turns, praying it would be enough as you fixated on a certain point.

Immediately your sense of space and time began to shift as you broke through whatever dimension you were entering as the time turner rumbled in your hand.

You were immediately met by the sight of Snape's classroom door which was thankfully sealed shut. You ran immediately out to the courtyard, desperation and adrenaline coursing through your body as you fought to get to your destination quickly, not knowing how much time you'd have.

Your knees nearly buckled upon hearing hushed whispers around the corner from you, tucked away in one of the corridors.

"It's not as bad as it seems, see, it's fading already."

"You can hardly see ours anymore and the pain stops eventually,"

"Yeah."

You walk around the corner and your lip instantly quivers at seeing him. You had to act strong, be strong for him so he wouldn't worry, knowing you couldn’t change the trajectory of time but it was so hard.

He was crouched on the floor beside the stone bench where the young boy sat sobbing with George sat next to him trying to comfort the sad boy, showing him his own scars on the back of his hand.

Fred's hair was a little longer than it had been when he died, something that you had always loved on him, secretly preferring when his hair looked a little overgrown and shaggy. He wore a blue striped polo shirt with a mustard yellow long sleeve shirt underneath and his dark trousers, all of which complemented him so well. In the time between the current events and his death, you'd rarely seen him wear anything other than a fancy suit when he worked at the shop or a simple pair of sweatpants when he got home, usually exhausted. It was so refreshing to see him look so perfectly Fred, reminding you of the boy you'd fallen hopelessly in love with all those years ago.

George also looked great, wearing a matching outfit with contrasting colours that complimented him just as well. He looked well and happy and you had to hold back another quiver of your lip at seeing the boy you loved like your own brother be so different to how you knew him now.

Fred noticed you almost immediately as you walked around the corner, stood silently observing him beside the stone pillar and the wickedly playful grin spread all over his face upon seeing you. He sprang up from his crouched position and raised his eyebrows at you in surprise.

You immediately flung yourself into his arms and he caught you seamlessly with a little 'oof' at the sudden impact. Your eyes filled with the tears you were trying so hard to stop as the familiarity and comfort of being in his arms surrounded you. Nothing felt like this. You fit so perfectly into his arms that he had once mentioned that your body must have been moulded from his own, your head resting perfectly on his chest, directly over his beating heart. His scent surrounded you like a delicious fog, the familiar scents of sweet marshmallow and dark notes of whiz bang smoke clung to your nostrils as you took deep breaths in trying to fill your body with his scent so that you'd always remember.

You felt like you could finally breathe again, finally home where you belonged.

His arms had locked around your shoulders, keeping you firmly against his body, no doubt sensing your need for him in that moment. His hand played with the strands of your hair as he bent down to kiss the top of your head.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" He asks quietly, only loud enough for you to hear, considering you still had an audience. Hearing him address you, calling you sweetheart had your world shattering and you could no longer stop the tears from falling down your face.

"F-Fred?" You said with a shaky breath, trying desperately to hold back the sobs that built up within your body.

"I'm here, I'm right here," he said soothingly, rocking you both back and forth gently as he pressed another kiss to your head.

"What's happened? Did Snape do something? Umbridge?" He says, pulling you back slightly so that he can look you in the eye, his worry clearly evident on his face, the protective side of him coming out as he considered that someone had hurt you.

You shook your head quickly, knowing you couldn't say anything that would work as an excuse.

"No, I just, I just needed to see you," you said honestly, the innocence and the weight of your words tugging at your heart, knowing he would never know how much you meant it.

His brown pulled together quickly in a slight frown before it disappeared off his face as he reached up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

You tried to push away all the intrusive thoughts that plagued your mind, things that only propelled you to feeling sadder, things you wanted to tell him and all the things you missed about him but you couldn't.

"I love you Freddie," you said, looking directly into his eyes, watching as they sparkled and an honest smile pulled at his lips.

"Not as much as I love you sweetheart," he replied, pulling you in for another hug, though this one was more playful as he squeezed you, making a laugh erupt from your mouth.

You suddenly pulled away and looked towards George who looked on in equal parts confusion and worry. The young boy had gone, no doubt feeling awkward about the whole interaction, leaving you with just the twins. 

You broke away from Fred and moved towards George who stood instinctively as you approached him. You threw your arms around his neck and he fumbled awkwardly for a moment before moving his hands to wrap around you, holding you to him.

"I love you Georgie," you said. He chuckled against you.

"What the bloody hell happened in that potions room?" He jokes but suddenly squeezes you tighter and replies that he loves you too.

"Trying to steal my woman brother?" Fred says from beside us, his tone just as joking and playful as you'll always remember it to be.

"Maybe, I am the better looking one after all," George jokes as you slip out of his hold.

"My future wife disagrees, don't you sweetheart," Fred says, pulling you back over to his side.

You felt your heart shatter at his words and you tried desperately to act neutral under the circumstances, knowing that he had referred to you that way since fifth year. It had always filled you with pride and giddiness each and every time he would call you his future wife, the butterflies in your tummy fluttering wildly at his determination to marry you.

Somehow you found your strength and like magic you slipped into the moment, casting all thoughts aside as you spent your time wisely.

"Sorry George," you smirked, turning back to face Fred to really look at him, knowing that your time would soon be up.

"You think I'll make a good wife?" You ask Fred, who beams down at you with a smile as he slips his arm around you again.

"The best, only one I'll ever need," he smirks, his hand wandering on your waist to reach down and pat your bum.

"I'd do anything to marry you," you said, your voice breaking slightly towards the end as your emotions overcame you once again at the deeper, more painful meaning of your words.

"I have to go," you said to Fred, knowing that you couldn't linger around much longer. "Don't mention this again please, I don't want Snape to know I snuck out of detention," you lied. He nodded in understanding and you moved forward to give him a kiss, pouring your heart and soul into it as you clutched onto to the collar of his polo shirt, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

"I think you should get detention with Snape more often," he says, still holding you tightly to him. You laugh and nod enthusiastically as you spend your last moments really looking at him, trying to commit every inch of his skin to memory.

The little scar above his eyebrow, the mark on his nose, the curve and little bump on the bridge of his nose, the way his hair shaped his face perfectly.

His greeny brown eyes, always glittering with mischief, that's what you'd always remember of him.

"Bye Freddie, I love you" you said, barely able to contain your tears as you walked quickly away, hiding around the corner as you started to sob. You flicked the time turner back just the right amount and tolu felt yourself once again being pulled in every direction until you landed back in McGonagall’s office.

She’s still sat at the desk, signing some papers when you return and she offers you a kind smile, seeing your tear stained cheeks.

“Thank you,” you said, owing her all the gratitude in the world for gifting you the opportunity to see your beloved once again as you placed the time turner delicately back in the box on the table. She nodded warmly and smiled again.

“It’ll be here for you whenever you need it,”

She says, placing it back into the drawer desk, “now, shall we begin the ceremony?” She stands and gestures for you to join her and you do, already feeling stronger by the minute, like your brief visit with Fred had recharged you and given you enough strength to continue.

George slipped his hand into yours the second you were reunited, both of you sitting together as Mcgonagall lead the remembrance ceremony. It was hard to hear Fred’s name and the memories of him shared around the room, but you’d found a strength you didn’t know you had. You cried, you laughed and you celebrated him in every way you could, in the way that he had always deserved.

Epilogue

As the years drew on, you’d visited McGonagall’s office numerous times to visit Fred as it were, only doing so when you felt you desperately needed to, which happened to be less and less over the years as you found your strength. Sometimes you watched from afar as you both interacted, seeing the love between you and sometimes you intercepted memories so that you could interact with him, smell him and feel his skin against yours.

You never dated, feeling no pull or desire for another man in your life, never able to commit to anyone else, knowing that they would always come second to your true love. George had become something to you which you could never explain, a love of sorts which teetered between friendship and more, though it was hard to cross that line, knowing that anything you did would be irreversible. Years passed with you both stuck in limbo, until one day the line was crossed and you found no guilt or pain on the other side of the line but instead found comfort and love. You’d moved in together to a little cabin in the woods, the dream that you’d once had with Fred that George fulfilled for you and one sadness filled night had changed everything when you both sought comfort in each other, needing to feel like you weren’t alone anymore.

It was a natural progression to love George, and you both found that the only way of moving past your pain was to accept that Fred would always be the other half to both of you, with the rest completely dedicated to each other. You both knew you were the only ones that would be able to have this together, that somehow the gap left by Fred would remain but it would be comfortable, like an additional blessing to your relationship. No deciding between the two, no competition and no guilt at loving both.

You married a year after moving in together and you were happy, finally a Weasley just like you’d always wanted. You’d expected to be conflicted and initially you had been, but you and George were perfect for each other and you started a new life together, always keeping Fred in your hearts but finally putting yourselves and your relationship first.

When your first son arrived not a year after your wedding, you’d both cried tears of utter joy when he was born with fiery red hair and little freckles, a complete clone of both his daddy and his uncle Fred.

You didn’t name him after Fred, nor Gred or Forge as George had somewhat jokingly suggested throughout your pregnancy, but instead chose to give him his own name, letting him forge own legacy in this calm world, one where he would always know about his uncle Freddie and how he died a hero.

[wingedhallows]

traitor - ch. one; sirius black

pairing: sirius black (golden trio era) x fem! oc | 0.9k words warning: dark themes, death, torture plot: Fourteen years ago, Hecate Hunt, a valuable member of the Order and once a Death Eater gave her life for her friends and the man she loved, at least that's what was believed. Now she's done hiding, ready to fight alongside her old friends and her godson. Ready to return to the life she once had, ready to once again be a traitor. authors note: hi there! I've been meaning to write this since it's been wandering around in my head for weeks. Thank you for reading and let me know if you liked it! :) ps.: this is the first work of mine in years, i wrote a lot of fanfics in highschool but somehow this helps with taking my mind off things. thank u <3 btw, things aren't absolutely accurate so don't come for me, let's just vibe, ok? ok.

navigation | chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four

then

"I want you all to meet a new member to the order. I believe her to be trusted, however you might think." from behind the old wizard a young woman emerged. Hair dark and long, a solem look on her face as she stepped infront of him. "Nice to meet you." she spoke, voice deep and firm. Her eyes were dark, almost black in the dim lit kitchen of the Black residence. Sirius felt himself lean forward, determined to catch a glimpse of her face.

"This is Hecate Hunt, a powerful witch and-"a Death Eater." Alastor Moody spoke, his eye skimming from side to side, mouth in a smarl. "Felt it minutes ago." The other members let their shock be known. Gasps and whispers present. She knew the members, of course. How could she not know the legendary Marauders, for one. 

"Why would you bring a Death Eater to this place, Albus?" Minerva spoke, voice almost too quiet to hear. Hecate let her gaze wander to Lily and James Potter who held hands, thumbs stroking each others hands. She had known the younger members, as she visited Hogwarts the same years they did. They were hard to miss. Remus Lupin just stared at her, hands in fists. Sirius Black on the other hand had his jaw clenched, mouth in a scowl and his wand in his hand. She knew of the older Black all too well. She had listened to the Dark Lord complain about Walburga and Orions incapability of turning their own son to the dark side multible times.

"Hecate has changed her mind in light of recent events.-"I don't buy it. Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater." Sirius interupted Albus, his fist connected with the dark wooden table as he spat the words. Anger rose inside of her, she knew of his temper, had seen it first hand in their school days. "Oh you would know all about it, right? Since your familiy's swamped with'em and all, Black." Hecate spat, hands now crossed over her chest. She stooped low, she knew, but she had to get in, she had to make a change. She wouldn't let Black ruin it.

Sirius was fast to jump to his feet, wand raised and his body shaking with anger. "How dare yo-"Sirius, please." Remus tugged him down to his chair. Hecate didn't back down, ready to take whatever would jump from the purebloods wand. It wouldn't be worse than to stand against the Cruciato curse, which made its way passed Lord Voldemorts lips all too often. 

Albus huffed a sigh as he eyed Sirius. "If i could continue what i was about to say." Hecate shifted her weight from one leg to another, uneasy with the mood in the room. "Hecate was the witch who freed Alice and Frank Longbottom from the clutches of Death Eaters." he paused, looking at the woman next to him. "Delivered them right to me. I believe that no real Death Eater would've shown them mercy. Therefore, after careful thinking, i recruit Hecate Hunt to be a member of the Order." she gave him a curt nod before taking a seat. She had freed them, too late though. Barty Crouch Jr had broken their minds when she arrived. She'd just spared them from their death. Her eyes once again connected with those of Sirius.

"The reason why i want to help you, is my sister."

now

Harry made his way passed the table, to the cabinets filled with plates and mugs. Sirius sat at the head of the table, a mug in one hand and the daily prophet in the other. "Morning, Harry." he spoke, a hopeful smile on his bearded face. Remus Lupin sat to his right, a little notebook placed on the table in front of him as he looked up at Padfoots godson. "Morning." he spoke as he saw Harry. He also greeted Lupin with a small smile. "Good Morning."  They didn't mind Harry looking around, it was an old and interesting house after all. Harry thanked Kreacher as the house elf scrambled to make the kid a cup of tea. His eyes locked on a picture frame. The only picture frame there was. 

There he saw Sirius and a woman he didn't know. Sirius looked younger, twenty maybe, the woman next to him was beautiful. Her dark long hair hung down her shoulders, shimmering in the warm sunlight as a bright smile spread across her pale face. Sirius gave her an adoring look before he smacked his lips on her cheek. The moment repeated, as every foto in the wizard world does.

"Sirus." he spoke, voice quiet. "Who is this?"

He turned around to look at his godfather. His face had frozen up, the shadow of a tear in his eyes. "Harry.." He could hear Remus say, an attempt of pushing the matter away.

"That's.." Sirius had to take a breath, his voice failing him. "Hecate Hunt." he spoke. He took a sip of his mug, the daily prophet long forgotten on the table in front of him. "Your godmother." it was merely a whisper as he spoke. Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing.

He had a godmother, somewhere out there-"She's dead." his voice rang in Harry's head. Harry placed the picture on the table, hand on his hip as he tried again. "How-"That's enough, Harry." Remus said, before Sirius rose to his feet and left, a quiet sob sounded in the distance.

"You-Know-Who killed her, there's nothing more to it." Remus spoke before he walked after his best friend. The boy once more stared at the picture in front of him. The woman, Hecate, once again gave the camera a warm smile. Just as young Sirius planted another forcefull kiss on her cheek he could hear a loud rumble upstairs. 

Sirius had just blown something to bits.

[startanewdream]

Inspired by this art, only I thought let's make this more emotional. Or how Minerva McGonagall receives the news about James Sirius Potter's birth.

The message comes in the early hours of the morning, before she leaves for breakfast. A short note, attached to a barn owl.

Professor Headmaster, if there is no trouble, would you join me for a drink at The Hog's Head tonight? — Harry.

It's funny how she still recognizes his handwriting after so many years; it's the "g", Minerva thinks, there's something very specific about this letter and the way Harry curves it.

She scribbles a quick note in answer, then ties it to the owl's leg. It's a beautiful creature that reminds her suddenly of Harry's white owl, whose wings were once harmed—and then Minerva heard what happened to the owl a few years later. Harry had looked so nervous about the state of the bird...

She shakes her head; age is making a fool of her again, too lost in memories. She dispatches the owl and tries to focus on the present.

It's after seven when she leaves the castle grounds to walk to Hogsmeade; it's a slow walk, and Minerva tells herself she will just floo back to Hogwarts later—she is getting too old for this walk, maybe this is a sign—

Hogsmeade is quiet on that Friday night; she thinks about how busy it will be the next day, with a school trip to the village — she'd heard the students talking excitedly, discussing what they would be buying—and that makes her steal a glance to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes down the street. She will need to warn the caretaker to be more careful than usual for the next week.

The Hog's Head is as busy as ever, which is to say full of shady people sitting by themselves, mostly covered; she sets a mental note to remind the Head Boy and Head Girl to watch out that no student wanders here. Then she looks around; in a dim corner, Harry is waiting for her, and he stands up when he sees her.

There is always a mingle of happiness and strange nostalgia when she sees him; except for the joy in his green eyes, he barely resembles that eleven-year-old boy that joined her house—and if she thinks further, to that baby she once delivered to a family that didn’t deserve him, there is only proud as she sees how well he’s grown up.

Harry is a fine man. Not because of his work as Auror, not because he defeated Voldemort, not even because of all those things he faced so bravely; but rather because he is a simple, fair, noble guy who believes in doing the right thing.

And he looks very well, if only slightly tired, as he shakes her hand.

“Hello, Professor,” he greets, smiling (when Harry smiles, and that’s Minerva once again being dragged by her own memories, he looks a lot like Lily). “I took the liberty of asking for your favourite.”

“Gillywater,” she says approvingly, watching the drink on the table as she joins him. 

“Not Rosmerta’s, but it is still good enough—or so Aberforth tells me.” He throws her an embarrassed look. “I am sorry for asking you to come here—this is the only place reporters aren’t pestering me these days.”

“I believe a bunch of reporters here would disband Aberforth’s business.”

“Oh, his goats keep them away,” Harry says fondly. “You look good, Professor.”

“I look older, you can say it.”

He laughs. “We are all older.” He lowers his voice conspiratorially. “Don’t quote me on this, but I found my first grey hair.”

Minerva has silver hair for long enough to just find his concern amusing, but she doesn’t smile. Harry is evidently happy tonight, teasing and carefree, very different from what he looked like when he was her student; it reminds her of another young boy she once taught, but that is the problem: that boy was forever young. He never spotted any hair other than a dark one that was never tamed.

She sips her drink, admonishing herself for being so sour.

“Finding one grey hair is okay,” she says when she can trust her voice. “The problem is when you do not find any other colour.”

“That’s true; Ginny said I looked dashingly mature—and it’s bound to worsen in the future, I am sure.” His words seem ominous, but Harry looks nothing but glad.

“If you have any issues with grey hair, I don’t recommend a teaching career for you.”

“Maybe in the future—Professor Potter rings nicely, doesn’t it? Would you hire me?”

“If not, will you jinx the post?”

Another laugh. “No, I will understand. I was never the most disciplined student.” He looks around. “And I promise not to start another clandestine club.”

“That is a relief. I am too close to retirement for such emotion.”

He blinks. “Are you serious?”

She sips her drink again. “It’s been a thought. I’ve been at Hogwarts for more than 50 years — seven generations of students—”

“I thought you would stick around for an eighth one.” He fumbles in his pocket until he finds a picture. “I cannot imagine Jamie not being taught by you.”

“Jamie?”

“Here.” And he shows the photo of a crying baby, all wrapped in a blanket, safely held by his parents. Harry and Ginny look tired but they are beaming in the picture; but her attention is all drawn to that newborn baby.

Babies should look all the same, not distinct features until a few months later, but she swears he looks exactly that baby she once dropped at his aunt’s house—and then there is a fierce desire to protect this innocent child, to not make the same mistake again because she will be damned if that child doesn’t get all the love he deserves, all the love his parents should have shared—

Harry is watching her rather expectantly, and Minerva breathes out again. Harry survived, Harry is fine now—and the baby, Jamie, will never share his father’s fate.

“James,” she repeats, not minding how her voice sounds muffled. “That’s a nice choice.”

“There was no other option for Ginny and I.” Harry sighs contentedly as he looks at the photo. “He is such a loud baby, and he’s keeping us all night awake but he sleeps nicely during the day—he’s growing well and—”

Harry sounds so proud—not, he sounds bewildered as if he doesn’t believe still he gets to be this happy, to live this life—

“And this is the most recent photo,” he adds, then showing her another picture; in this one she can spot the baby’s dark hair.

“Potter hair,” she says warmly, finger stroking the photo. 

“I think it’s a bit lighter,” he says. “It looks almost red under the sunlight. And his eyes… I thought it looked a bit like Ginny’s, but she said they are hazel.”

“Oh.” 

“Professor,” James would say, his grave voice betrayed by the glint of mischief in his hazel eyes, “how can Filibuster Fireworks be against school rules if they weren’t even invented when Hogwarts was founded? I am sure that’s what you call a ‘loophole’, so you see, we cannot get detention—”

She inhales deeply. “Congratulations to you and Ginny. I am very happy for you.”

“Thanks.” He watches her. “We are christening him this Sunday, at the church in Godric’s Hollow. We would be very happy if you were there—so you can meet him, hopefully only eleven years sooner than you thought.”

Minerva smiles. “With such a namesake, I am sure this will be the last time I will find any peace in his presence.”

“Oh,” Harry grins. “Actually, two namesakes. We named him James Sirius.”

Minerva takes a generous sip of her gillywater. Retirement sounds almost nice, but she cannot let anyone inherit such a challenge. “I hope you get used to grey hair, Harry,” she notes. “You will get them sooner than you think.”

[romione-trope-fest]

When You Wish Upon a Star

Title: When You Wish Upon A Star

Author: adenei

Trope: Soulmates

Summary: 

Three years after graduating, Hermione finds herself at the annual Hogwarts Alumni Quidditch Tournament, still single, living alone with Crookshanks, and no closer to finding love than when she was a student here. But sitting there on the sidelines, she can’t help wishing for something more, and finds herself weighing her options as the party rages on, mourning the lost chances of ever being anything more than Ron’s best friend.

She doesn’t have to wallow for very long though, because as fate would have it, her prospects for love suddenly take a turn…but is it for the better?

WC: 2360 (Multichap) 

Rating: M

TW: none

**********

Music blares at an overwhelming decibel level, but the crowd of people somehow manage to shout and cheer above it. There’s a strong smell of Firewhiskey in the air, and if the colors red and gold could throw up everywhere, it’d still be tamer than the sight in front of her. This isn’t Hermione’s scene at all, yet here she stands in the stuffy common room, packed to the brim with more people than it should probably be allowed to hold. 

It’s crazier than any victory party Hermione’s ever attended, and for once she’s more than happy to not have any Prefect or Head Girl duties falling on her shoulders. If things get out of hand, that’s on Minerva. She’s the one who let them all in for the celebration, knowing full well what would probably happen. 

After all, how else would you expect a large group of former students to act whilst reliving their glory days? It doesn’t even matter that the Annual Hogwarts Alumni Quidditch Tournament was specifically designed to be an inter-house event, or that participants were required to write their names down to be magically sorted into teams. Gryffindor is always over-represented, which meant there’d be major celebrations regardless of which team won.

Still, Hermione appreciates the camaraderie it builds. There have been many efforts to rebuild the magical world following Voldemort’s defeat, and the recently instituted alumni event is one of those things that people have looked forward to over the last few summers.

This year, though, proves to be a little more chaotic. Not that Hermione would actually know. It’s her first time attending one of these things—if only as a spectator. But based on the stories she’s heard about the past couple years, she has a hard time believing it’s ever gotten this out of hand.

But maybe that’s because of the way the teams shook out—notably with Harry and Ron being chosen for the same team. They’d also somehow managed to get Ginny, George, and Demelza. Hermione couldn’t help but laugh when she’d found out. Regardless of her limited Quidditch knowledge, even she knew they were an unstoppable group, and there was no hope for her to skip sitting in the stands this year. Especially not when Ron had flooed straight to Hermione’s flat when lists were delivered, begging her to come and watch. Of course she’d said yes. 

She’s glad she came though. It’s been nice to see everyone, and things were made a little sweeter when Ron and Harry won the Alumni Cup. After all, there’d been moments—both during the feast and the current after-party—where Hermione almost felt as though she were a student again. Almost. 

But she’s not. Three years have passed since she graduated, and while nothing about Hogwarts has changed since the last time she roamed its ancient halls, everything about her has. Or maybe it hasn’t, depending on the way she looks at it. 

Is she currently pursuing her dream of working up the ranks at the Ministry within the Magical Law Department? Yes. She’s the lead junior lawyer within the division of Being Rights. 

Has she also enrolled at King’s College to study Muggle Law in an attempt to equate Being Rights to the Human Rights movement? Also true. 

And to top it all off, she’s a fully-fledged adult, living her life with all the accompanying responsibilities it brings with it, which may just be her greatest accomplishment of all. 

But then again, she’s still single, living alone with Crookshanks, and no closer to finding love than when she was a student here. So perhaps that’s the reason she’s found every excuse to not come back. Because it’s all a woeful reminder of how stagnant her life is. Not to mention how unpromising her love life is and probably always will be.

And this party is doing nothing to make her feel better about any of that either. If anything, she’s filled with resentment as she watches Ron being hoisted in the air like some kind of hero, amplified only by the way a bottle of Firewhiskey is shoved in his hand. He takes it as if he hasn’t got a care in the world, and another pang of loneliness reverberates from her chest. 

How is it that she’s still watching from the sidelines? Why must her heart tug mournfully in her chest when she should be celebrating and reuniting with her former classmates?

Oh, that’s right. Because this is all a sad reminder of how she never stood a chance to be anything more than Ron’s best friend.

Hermione half-expects someone to jump his bones—much in the same way Lavender did during their sixth year—whisking him into a relationship that pushes him further away from her. Further away from the friendship she cherishes more than anything in the world. Because it’s the most she’ll ever have with him. 

You think you’d be okay with it after nearly eight years of harboring feelings for him.

Yeah, well, she’s not. Not even close. Maybe she should have taken the job offer to work in France when she had the chance. The one her mother still finds every excuse to mention because she couldn’t believe Hermione had passed it up. 

Hermione had used her uni classes as the primary excuse for staying in London, but that was because she didn’t want to admit the truth. That when she’d told Ron over dinner one evening, he’d looked at her with that infuriatingly disapproving gaze—the same one he’d given her when she went with Viktor to the Yule Ball. And when he thought she was taking too many classes or stayed up too late to revise. She could go on and on, but the point was clear. He didn’t want her to take it. 

The look wasn’t what made her stay, though. She would have overlooked that because she’d seen it so many times before. But then he’d gone so far as to say ‘don’t go.’

She thought—just for a moment—that maybe his request would be followed by her deepest desire. That maybe he’d kiss her and profess he’s been in love with her all this time and that’s the real reason he wanted her to stay.

But no, he’d made some quip about portkeys being expensive, and what would he do without their weekly dinners or his lunch partner when there were no cases and he was stuck at his desk? All her hopes had been squashed. Her dreams were crushed. Yet she still turned down the position—because she could never quite say no to him. 

Maybe it’d be easier if some other guy seemed remotely interested in her. Sure, she’d been on her fair share of dates. She really has tried to move on. It’s not her fault it’s all to no avail. Eventually, they all do something that makes her compare them to Ron, and once that happens, all hope is lost. They never stack up. 

If she was smart, she’d play the field right now, see what options are available and just go for it. With nothing better to do, she figures why not? There’s nothing wrong with women playing the field, is there? Maybe taking control of her love life is exactly what she needs to turn her luck around. And what better place to do so than right here, in a room full of people she already knows?

Um, you’re hearing your thought process, right?

She shakes her inner consciousness away and attempts to see if there’s anyone here she never considered simply because she was blinded by the best friend who never wanted anything more. It doesn’t take long for her eyes to spot Neville halfway across the room. He’s single, right? Ugh, she should really know this, considering how he’s always had a soft spot for her. Is she that shitty of a friend to anyone other than Ron or Harry?

No, stop thinking about Ron. This is the whole reason you're scouting dating opportunities, isn’t it?

Right, yes, keep looking. Oh, there’s Seamus—not that she imagines him being anything more than a fling. Three years later and he still isn’t the serious type. Would she really want to go there? Especially considering she’s the one who ruined his conquest to sleep with every Gryffindor in their year—granted, she never should have overheard that conversation to begin with, but it wasn’t her fault she’d gone up to the boys dormitory looking for Ron.

That didn’t take long.

Ignoring the voice in her head, Hermione shudders and tries not to think about that grotesque fact. At the time, she never thought she’d be the sole reason for the holdout. Because Lavender was into him and Parvati would never compete with her best friend for a man…or pursue him after. But apparently Lav and Parvati got drunk enough to opt for a threesome at some point during seventh year…Hermione never asked for any more details when she found out after the war, but good for them, she supposes?

Maybe we’ll save Seamus for an absolute last choice—’desperate times, desperate measures’ thing.

Hermione continues scanning the room and notices Colin Creevey standing on a table. There’s an old tie wrapped around his head and he’s moving wildly to whatever song is playing. Briefly, she remembers how narrowly he escaped death—the killing curse missing him by mere centimeters during the final battle. It’s nice to see him living life to the fullest. 

He’d always been so nice in school, if a little too eager to please people sometimes. Of course, it isn’t necessarily a bad quality. Maybe he could be a viable option, and she wonders briefly what he’s doing with his life now—when he’s not drunkenly dancing on tables, that is. 

And then, of course, Hermione sees the obvious—and probably best—option: Viktor Krum. Viktor, who hadn’t even gone to Hogwarts, but stepped in this weekend after finding out the teams were short a seeker. How convenient that he’d been in town the week before playing the Harpies. Apparently, Ginny had casually mentioned the tournament to him, so he’d written to Minerva and offered to fill the spot for the lacking team. 

She’d learned all this at dinner earlier when they sat together and caught up. She wouldn’t say he seemed interested, but he was definitely excited to see her, leaving her wondering if perhaps she’d shut him down too soon back in fourth year. All in the hopes that her best friend might one day notice her.

Ha, that joke’s on you. And you’re thinking about Ron again.

She averts her gaze from the Bulgarian Seeker, inwardly chastising herself as she searches for Ron amongst the sea of people. If she’s going to keep thinking about him, she might as well use the opportunity to sneak a few glances in. It’s all a good plan until she finds the red-headed apple of her eye chatting up some girl she doesn’t even recognize. 

Her meal from the Hogwarts feast churns in her stomach and now she’s sure she’s scowling. She hates how the jealousy still consumes her, but doesn’t know how to keep it at bay. 

“Begs me to come then chats up other girls all night,” she mumbles to herself, so quiet that no one could possibly overhear amongst the cacophony.

Why wouldn’t he, though?

Her inner thoughts torment her with a valid counter-argument, and she hates every second of it. He’s perfectly capable of talking to whoever he wants—male or female, it doesn’t matter. She has no claim on him. He’s not hers. He can talk to whoever he bloody well wants to. 

And you can leave. 

Yes! That’s right. She can. And that’s exactly what she’ll do. She doesn’t owe it to anyone to stay. Least of all him.

Impulsively, she grabs a half empty bottle of Firewhiskey on a nearby table, takes a swig, then heads for the portrait hole. While she intends to put the bottle back, the compulsion to nick it wins, and Hermione finds herself wandering the corridors with it after she slips out of the common room unnoticed. 

But where exactly is she headed? Truthfully, she hasn’t thought far enough ahead to consider that. The only Floo that’s open is in the opposite direction and to double back would mean she’d have to pass by the entrance to Gryffindor Tower again—something she doesn’t want to do. She supposes she could Apparate. But…wait. It’s ironic that her resentment towards her best friend makes her forget the one rule she’s chided on forever. 

You can’t Apparate in or out of Hogwarts. 

So much for thinking a quick, quiet escape was achievable. She stops walking and leans against one of the bare stone walls, welcoming the cool, rough texture against her back as she takes another swig from the bottle. If she wasn’t so mentally fried and overstimulated from the rager, she’d probably be more concerned about who else put their mouth on it. But that’s a problem for Future Hermione. Right now, Present Hermione just wants to wallow in self pity and heartache.

Too bad fate has other plans for her.

“Hermione!” an all-too-familiar voice calls. 

Well, that was short-lived.

She doesn’t respond but also doesn’t make an effort to move either. “Fuck, where’d she go?” she hears Ron say to himself. “Couldn’t have gone far, ri—there you are!”

Lolling her head to one side, she rolls her eyes. In the driest tone she can muster, she mutters, “You caught me.”

“Why’d you leave?”

Because I didn’t want to watch you take another girl upstairs to fuck.

“Too loud.”

He frowns. “Are you going home then?”

Hermione eyes him again. Why does he seem so upset about it? It’s not like he was even giving her any attention back there.

“Haven’t decided. Just needed some air.”

“Oh.” 

He watches her for a moment, then his face splits into a smile, like he’s got an idea. He reaches forward, stripping the bottle of Firewhiskey from her hand and replaces it with his own. A warm sensation shoots up her arm at the contact and she hates how much she loves it.

“What are you—” she asks when he pulls her along the corridor.

“You said you needed air, right?”

“Um, yes.” 

But it was an excuse. I wasn’t actually serious.

“Great, then come with me.”

Every fiber of her being screams that this is probably going to be a bad idea, but the fact that he’s here with her and offering more one-on-one time is hardly something she’s going to pass up. So, she lets him whisk her away, silently choosing to reap the consequences in the morning.

[saintsenara]

back with more for @hprecfest - although i'll be skipping day three because i have the concentration span of a kitten and therefore no chance of making it through a podfic...

day two: favourite comfort fics

two boys kissing by writcraft sirius black/severus snape mature | 6.8k words

why i recommend it:

because I'm a sucker for both sirius and snape getting a happy ending, and this fic delivers this within a beautiful, gentle examination of the horrors of sirius' young adult life and the way that hope and desire are things he clings to during the lonely misery of his confinement in azkaban. the repeated motif of the sky always gets to me:

when he showers, he whistles a song. he’s not sure he knows it’s name, but he can remember strobe lights and the way snape looked when he was as young as sirius can remember him being. that was back in the days when severus tried so hard not to be queer and sirius thought he had everything to live for.

sirius spits out toothpaste into the sink and contemplates himself in the mirror. it looks like there’ll be a thunderstorm tonight. he puts his toothbrush into the glass and moves into the room, poking his head out of the window. the wind has gathered momentum but the sky is clear.

he breathes in the air and watches the stars.

so bracing by @kellychambliss minerva mcgonagall/severus snape teen | 9.2k words

why i recommend it:

because i love to see older woman/younger man relationships in fandom - there's still far too few of them - and because i love to see fics from the perspective of minor characters, and this, which is as much a careful and generous character study of tom the barman (and the town of skegness) as it is of its central couple never fails to make me smile:

tom took the chance of sitting down again, and when he didn't get tossed out on his arse, he felt a little emboldened. "and you thought you wanted this? life in a muggle pub in skegness?"

snape loaded a glass into a dishpan, and then another. and another.

"my family," he said, just when tom had decided that he probably wasn't going to say anything at all. "my family wasn't one for holidays. it was all my father could do to keep food on the table, once the mills failed. and once the drinking started. but before all that, there was one summer -- spring, actually. may. we couldn't afford high summer season. da somehow saw his way clear to taking my mother and me to the seaside. i was about six. we came here. skegness. we froze our arses off."

"skegness is. . . so bracing," tom murmured, and snape snorted.

"in a word. three days in a grotty little caravan. cheap, greasy food. saw a sad muggle magic show." he loaded more glasses with a crash. "i loved it. fucking loved the lot of it. "

never gonna give you up by @laeveteinn harry potter/lord voldemort teen | 15k words

why i recommend it:

because it makes me shriek. i'm not usually a fan of either professor harry or professor voldemort fics, but it turns out that my exception is when they're forced to work together as a team because harry's newly-divorced and adrift in a world which no longer makes sense and voldemort's a ghost who's obsessed with memes:

“what are you thinking so intently about?” voldemort murmurs. “you mustn’t overtax your brain, it wasn’t meant for hard activity.”

harry snorts. “honestly, i’m just trying to figure out where albus got his bad taste in men. it’s not ginny; lars isn’t actually that terrible.”

and for some reason, voldemort lets out a lengthy sigh.

clay by @titconao3 harry potter & severus snape general | 46k words

why i recommend it:

because i have an unstoppable fondness for the concept of redemption, which is hugely and unfairly maligned in this fandom, and this story is an astonishingly beautiful meditation on the theme, not only in how it approaches both snape and harry as they come to terms with the war and what it has taken from them, but in how it portrays tobias snape and his own reckoning with his past and quest to make amends with his son:

tobias was on a roll. “you lot, always talking about your magic, waving your bloody sticks around like it makes you better than us normal people…” he slammed his hands on the table and severus shuddered, his fists opening and closing around nothing. he’d left his wand in the room; it wasn’t like he could use it, and he had to trust potter could deal with tobias snape. the man was nothing, to a boy who’d faced the dark lord and come out the victor. “you’re not. you’re not! your goddamn magic… we’d have been better off without it, i’m telling you.” severus looked again through the crack and saw tobias with his back turned on potter, his shoulders shaking. he was angry, but not yet taking it out on potter. maybe he was scared of potter’s wand; maybe now that he was sober he was better at keeping his violence in check. either way, severus didn’t trust it would last forever. it never had, before.

to forgive divine by jellybeany neville longbottom/draco malfoy teen | 7.4k words

why i recommend it:

because there are days when you need eighth-year fluff, and this sort of fluff is so rarely given to neville as a central character, but it should be:

he’d wondered if it was something like that, to be honest. 

because, because. malfoy was always so interested. he’d read in a fortune cookie once that the opposite of love isn’t hate, it's indifference.

which was a rubbish fortune at the time, but it’s relevant now.

[sparklingpax]

Some holiday doodles I did for friends!!! 🥰❄️✨

We've got a Festive Minerva, Optimus with warm energon, Arcee delivering gifts, and Optimus (once again) sitting with some penguins!! Yes I drew him two different ways fight me!!! 😳💖 (plus one more)

These took an entire night I have not slept in over 24 hours nearing the 36+ mark I am so tired right now but anyways.

Enjoy!!!! :3

[halfblood-princes-crown]

Can you write some headcanons for Snape as father of 2 girls (maybe even twins)? I am sucker for dad Snape

Ofc! Dad Snape is my life 😩 I’ll do twins because I love the idea of him having twins. I’m doing these for post war, but if you want some for while he’s still a spy then I’ll be happy to deliver the angst😌

For these, Snape went back to teaching at Hogwarts

He made it his mission to be able to tell them apart, and it actually was quite easy for him

He sung lullabies to them in French

He liked to take them with him to collect potion ingredients to get them acquainted with nature

Introduced them to his favorite parts of muggle culture

He didn’t dress them identical. They might match every once in a while but he valued their individuality

He adored doing their hair up in different styles! If they wanted one he didn’t quite know how to do, he’d practice on his own hair

Feeding them means he prepared more nutritious meals, which means he was also looking healthier and healthier

If they had one or more of his features, he’d always tell them how beautiful they were before anyone could tell them otherwise

When they first asked about his scar and dark mark, he thought it was too touchy of a subject and saved it for when they got older. (When he finally did go into detail about his past, one of them called his dark mark his “Trojan Horse”)

He started teaching them simple magic when they were old enough so that they wouldn’t struggle when it was time for them to start school

He taught them to be kind but not tolerant, and he taught them to stand up for themselves

He taught them how to communicate effectively so that they can handle disputes without escalating them, and so they never say something they might regret

When they were sorted, he gave them supportive smiles to let them know he was proud regardless of what house it was. If they were in different houses, he’d make sure they could see each other as much as possible

Protective is an understatement. The whole school knew not to breath wrong in their presence or Snape would appear out of nowhere

Despite being protective, he gave them more than enough space to be themselves and make friends.

He always corrected people who mixed them up and explained the difference between them so they wouldn’t do it again

He never gave them special treatment when it came to tests or points. He’s never given a point in his life and wasn’t starting now. #StuckInHisWays

They were good kids, so if they ever got in trouble, he’d have them serve “detention” in his class so that he can talk to them and find out if anything is wrong and what they all can do differently next time

Minerva was literally their grandma. No discussion

He encouraged them to do Quidditch if they wanted, and was supportive when one of them showed interest

One of them dressed as him for Halloween and the other dressed as Minerva and they went around gossiping about everyone.

He embraced their hobbies and even found some that he shared in common with them. (They did his makeup and painted his nails. He thought it was cute. Definitely kept the nail polish on)

Sometimes they’d all go to a field and cast their patronus’ together and watch them dance around

He taught them how to dance for the Yule Ball, and threatened their dates when they weren’t looking

During the Ball, they noticed how he hadn’t been dancing…or moving for that matter, so they yanked him to the dance floor and forced it out of him.

When they graduated and started on their career paths, he retired from teaching and promised them he’d continue to be there if they ever needed him.

He started a natural cosmetics shop soon after they left, and loved when they occasionally stopped by to see him and his work

[x5red]

Is Super Ma'am worth watching?

With the release of an English subtitled version of the Marian Rivera series Super Ma'am, it seems like an opportune moment to revisit this classic Pinoy series -- a show that mixed superhero antics, sibling rivalries, monster invasions, and the supernatural.

Super Ma'am ran in an early evening primetime weekday slot on the GMA network, aimed at a family audience. Broadcast Mondays to Fridays, it racked up 95 episodes, each episode running typically 30 minutes. As with all telefantasya series, the show fused combat and action with elements of daytime soap (romance, heartbreak, relationships, etc.) At the core of its story is a the mild mannered school teacher, Minerva Henerala (Marian Rivera), who becomes the whip cracking, monster hunting, artefact collecting, superheroine known as Super Ma'am.

The premise

The story begins with Dr. Raquel Henerala taking her family to investigate some ancient markings recently discovered inside a cave. The symbols relate to mythical shape-shifting creatures known as the Tamawos that legend explains once ruled over mankind. Investigations inside the cave trigger earthquakes that open up sinkholes, releasing Tamawos from their prison deep beneath the ground. Dr. Henerala and one of her daughters, Mabelle, vanish into one of the sinkholes, which closes up making it impossible to attempt a rescue. Both are subsequently assumed to have perished.

Many years later Dr. Henerala's husband, Chaplin, her surviving daughter, Minerva, and her son, Bixby, are still living with the loss of their two family members. The adult Minerva has become a high school teacher, but she is teased and mocked by students and colleagues for her belief in the mythical Tamawos creatures. Meanwhile the escaped Tamawos have been hiding out in society by adopting the form of regular humans, and feeding by draining the lifeforce of kidnapped children.

The Queen of the Tamawos has adopted the guise of a wealthy woman called Greta Sagovia. Greta plots to overthrow mankind and once again allow the Tamawos to rule the Earth. The defeat of the Tamawos in ancient times was due to the angel Dalikmata and her gift of a magical weapon that can hurt the Tamawos. The divinely chosen wielder of the weapon -- a stingray tail (short whip) -- is known by the title of Tagachu, and its modern day holder is a woman called Ceres who has been tracking down and defeating the recently escaped Tamawos.

But Ceres needs to retire and pass the whip on to a new Tagachu, and it seems the next divinely chosen candidate is the mild mannered school teacher, Minerva Henerala. Meanwhile Greta Sagovia has been intensively training her 'daughter', Avenir, to become a weapon against the Tagachu. The young girl is desperate to win the approval of her mother by killing the Tagachu, but she fails to do this before Ceres has passed the whip on to her replacement, Minerva.

Using the immense power of the whip Minerva transforms her appearance to hide her true identity and protect her family, adopting the alias Super Ma'am. Avenir makes it her mission to kill Super Ma'am, but what Avenir doesn't know is that Greta is not her real mother -- rather Avenir is in reality the heavily brainwashed Mabelle, Minerva's sister who vanished into the sinkhole all those years before. So both Super Ma'am and Avenir become mortal enemies, neither woman realising that they are actually sisters behind their alter egos.

The verdict

Super Ma'am rattles along at quite a pace, and delivers enough melodrama and plot twists to keep the audience coming back for more. The computer generated effects are mostly fine given the limited budget, with the occasional underwhelming exception. The fight sequences are not too bad, considering how little time the production would have had to choreograph and rehearse each fight. The monsters are clearly actors in costumes, but they pass so long as disbelief is suspended just a little. The gore is limited to rather unconvincing stage blood and dubious looking painted-on bruises and scratches. And the acting is typical of this type of show: somewhat melodramatic and saturated with unsubtle emotion, but entertaining nevertheless.

Overall Super Ma'am doesn't try to offer anything too radical. It packages up a lot of familiar tropes from the superhero and telefantasya genres, and delivers them with confidence. Marian Rivera is likable in her dual roles, and the supporting cast do enough to play up to the melodrama without making the show look silly. The plots are simple, but nevertheless keep the audience guessing what will happen next, while the dynamics between the various characters compels the audience to keep coming back for just one more episode.

Super Ma'am is not deep or multi-layered, but it is a lot of fun.

[riseoftheclansrpg]

Name: Minerva the Oracle

Name Meaning:

Minerva: Long, long ago, before the Clans resided by the lake, twolegs would catch glimpses of this phantom. They began to call her Minerva, after the old twoleg that used to own the fishing shack by the lake. The twolegs claim she is the spirit of the old lady; Minerva, however knows otherwise.

The Oracle: Her title, the Oracle, comes from StarClan and ancient warriors, to indicate her ability to predict future events even StarClan cannot foresee.

Species: Lynx

Gender: Female (she/her)

Age: Unknown

Rank: Oracle for the Clans

The Oracle is a prophetic spirit that can perfectly recount events of the past, deliver news of the present, and catch glimpses of the future. These small fragments of time are always accurate, and she can foretell things even beyond the sight of StarClan. She has the power to conjure any StarClan warrior from the past to be among the living, whether the StarClan cat wanted to be summoned or not.

Clan: Not affiliated with any specific Clan.

General Description: Minerva is a large, stark white albino lynx with faint, sparse markings. She has long, bushy fur with a mane of fur wreathing her fluffy cheeks. Her legs are long and sturdy, and she has formidably large sized paws. Her eyes are a piercing, glowing red, with white pupils. Darker tufts of fur outline her eartips, elbows, and ankles. She is slightly transparent in appearance in the waking world; she only appears solid in dreams.

Fur texture: Long, bushy, thick

Body type: Large for a lynx, thick muscles

Scars: None

History:

Minerva was born in the mountains as a young lynx a long, long time ago. It's hard for her to remember her life as a living creature, given it was so long ago. She has faint memories of being both revered and feared; animals far and wide came to know her special abilities. Animals of the forest would come to her, to have her summon a deceased animal for them to commune. Every time she summoned the dead, however, she could feel her soul's grasp among the living slipping away. One day, after summoning the drowned pups of a fox for a distraught mother, Minerva found herself overwhelmed with exhaustion, and her red eyes closed, as she sunk deeper and deeper into a slumber. When she woke up, she found that she was no longer in the physical realm; her body lay before her, lifeless. Without a general direction for what to do next, she descended from the mountains, and found herself in close proximity to four Clans of cats.

Despite being dead, Minerva still found herself able to speak with these cats. Through their healers she learned that these cats had recently lost warriors. Minerva showed them the way to the meteor pool, and taught them how to bring their ancestors present to speak with them once more. Through several practices and rituals, the medicine cats of the Clans learned how to commune with StarClan.

Minerva found through death, she was able to witness the very channel of time that all cats follow. She found, for a short period of time, she could recall the past events of a living cat, or catch glimpses of future events. This made StarClan horribly uneasy: Minerva time and time again was able to accurately predict future events that StarClan had no idea was going to occur. This drove them to such paranoia, they began to tell the medicine cats and leaders of every Clan behind Minerva's back that she was not to be trusted, as was the will of her ancestors. With these seeds of doubt planted, the Clans slowly began to cut off communing with Minerva, until visits to her Hollow completely ceased. With the sudden drop off of Clan cat visits, Minerva went dormant, for many, many moons.

She emerged once more with the exile of StreamClan. The actions of the Clans caused such a disturbance and rift in StarClan, the tremors of the rift were felt by Minerva, waking her once more. She became slowly awake in the Clans once more, watching and taking interest once again in the lives and relationships of the cats by the lake.

Personality:

+ Benevolent

+ Compassionate

= Unflappable

= Wise

- Cryptic

- Intense Anger

Minerva hardly ever shows her emotions: she is hard to read, with a piercing, hard gaze that is hard to keep for long. She tries to remain unbiased with delivering time fragments, but she is known to withold information or provide guidance to help cats who are going through troubles in their life. While she hasn't been seen outwardly angry, it is well-known not to try and anger this spirit. The few fragments of anger that Minerva has let slipped have been felt with a scorching intensity, discouraging any cats from trying to trick or double cross Minerva.

Rise of the Clans will open for applications August 19th, 2024! Click here to learn more <3

[lawspark]

LANDMARK CASES OF THE CONSTITUTION

LANDMARK CASES

So, college students often struggle with case laws, especially on the subject of the constitution. Here is the list of 10 landmark judgments of the Constitution of India. These cases are important not only for your college exams but will also help you in Judiciary exams. So, let’s get started!  

TOP 10 LANDMARK CASES OF THE CONSTITUTION

Romesh Thappar v. State of Madras (1950) The SC held that freedom of propagating ideas through circulars is included in freedom of speech and expression. State of Madras v. Amt. Champakam Dorairajan (1951) The judgment led to the addition of this subsection (4) by the First Constitutional Amendment Act, 1951. Specifically, the Madras Government has reserved places in State engineering and medical institutes for various communities based on classes, religion, and race. This was challenged before the court as it violates Article 15 (1) of the Constitution. The SC held that the statute invalidates seat reservations based on race, religion, and caste (caste reservation in India) since it categorises students based on their castes, religions, and other factors rather than their academic ability. Clause (4) was inserted into Article 15 to mitigate the impact of the aforementioned SC judgment. This Article gives the STATE the authority to make specific provisions for the scheduled castes and scheduled tribes and for socially and educationally marginalized classes of citizens. K.M. Nanavati v. State of Maharashtra (1959) At Sessions Court, the appellant was charged under S. 302 & S. 304 of the IPC and was tried by the Sessions Judge with the aid of a special jury. The jury passed a verdict of “not guilty” by 8: 1 majority under both the provisions of IPC, which was not agreed by the Sessions Judge, as in his view, the jury’s verdict was such that with regards to the evidence shown.

So, the learned Sessions Judge submitted the case under 307 of CrPC to the Bombay High Court & the Division Bench comprising of Justices Shelat and Naik passed separate judgments but held that the accused was guilty of murder under s. 302 of IPC and sentenced him to undergo rigorous imprisonment for life. Both the Justices of the High Court stated that there was misdirection to the jury and that the accused was clearly guilty of murder. No reasonable body must arrive at such a conclusion as delivered by the jury. I.C. Golaknath and ors. v. State of Punjab and Anr. (1967) The main issue dealt with in this case was- Can an amendment be considered a law and whether or not fundamental rights can be amended? The SC stated that Fundamental Rights are not amendable under Article 13, and a new Constituent Assembly would be needed to modify such rights. Additionally, it was noted that while Article 368 outlines the process for amending the Constitution, it does not grant Parliament the authority to do so. Keshavananda Bharati v. State of Kerala (1973) The Supreme Court defined the basic structure in this case. the court held that although the Parliament had the authority to amend any portion of Constitution, including the Fundamental Rights, the basic structure of the constitution could not be abrogated even by constitutional amendment. This acts as the basis of Indian law for the judiciary's power to invalidate any amendment made by Parliament those conflicts with the Constitution's fundamental principles. Maneka Gandhi v. UOI (1978) Whether the freedom to go abroad falls under Article 21's definition of the Right to Personal Liberty was a key question in this case. According to the SC, it is a part of the right to personal liberty. The SC further held that restricting personal freedom did not require more than the existence of an enabling law. Additionally, such a law must be "just, fair, and reasonable." Minerva Mills Ltd. V. UOI (1980) This case once again strengthens the Basic Structure concept. The decision declared two amendments introduced to the Constitution by the 42nd Amendment Act of 1976 to be against the basic structure and invalidated them. It is quite evident from the ruling that the Constitution, not the Parliament, is superior. Mohd. Ahmed Khan v. Shah Bano Begum and ors. (1985) This is a crucial case in the struggle for Muslim women’s rights. The SC affirmed a Muslim woman's claim to alimony and declared that everyone, regardless of religion, is subject to the 1973 Code of Criminal Procedure. This sparked a political debate, and the ruling was overturned by the government of the day by passing the Muslim Women (Protection on Divorce Act), 1986, which stipulates that alimony must only be paid during the iddat period (in tune with the Muslim personal law). M.C. Mehta v. UOI (1986) Three issues were addressed in this case: the application of Article 32, the application of the Rylands v. Fletcher rule of absolute liability, and the compensation problem. The SC held that its authority under Article 32 extends to corrective and preventive actions where rights are violated. Additionally, it was decided that Absolute Liability should be used in industries that participate in risky or intrinsically harmful activity. Finally, it added that in order to act as a deterrence, the compensation must be proportionate to the size and potential of the industry. Vishaka and Ors v. State of Rajasthan (1997) This case involved workplace sexual harassment. In its judgment, the SC provided a set of guidelines for employers and other accountable parties or organisations to ensure the avoidance of sexual harassment right away. They are referred to as "Vishaka Guidelines." Until the relevant legislation was passed, these were regarded as being in effect.

Blog Lawspark Academy

List of 100+ Landmark Cases of Supreme Court India: - His Holiness Kesavananda Bharati vs State of Kerala (Kesavananda Bharati Case ) - Landmark Judgement by Supreme Court 13 Judges Bench which propounded the Basic Structure Doctrine or Essential Feature Theory. In this case Golak Nath Case was overruled and Bench in majority said that Parliament can amend any part of Indian Constitution but it can not destroy the basic structure. SC said the parliament has limited amending power.  - Maneka Gandhi vs Union of India - Article 21 Case / Era of Right to life started expanding from this case. - Justice K S Puttaswamy vs Union of India - Right to Privacy Case - Shankari Prasad vs Union of India - Power of (Provisional) Parliament to Amend Constitution and specially Fundamental Rights - Sajjan Singh vs State of Rajasthan - Power of Parliament to Amend the Constitution - A K Gopalan vs State of Madras - Preventive Detention Act 1950 - Romesh Thappar vs State of Madras - Freedom of Speech - Post publication prevention of circulation of crossroad weekly magazine resulted in violation of freedom of speech - Brij Bhushan Sharma vs Delhi - Freedom of Speech - Pre Publication Censorship of Organizer weekly resulted into violation of Freedom of Speech as per Supreme Court - State of Madras vs Champakam Dorairajan - Caste based reservation in admission to the educational institution - M P Sharma vs Satish Chandra Case - Right to Privacy Issue - Kharak Singh vs State of Uttar Pradesh - Whether  privacy is a part of fundamental right in our constitution - In Re Beruberi Case - Cession of a part of the territory of India, Exchange of enclave with Pakistan - Commissioner Hindu Religious Endowments Madras vs Sri Lakhmindra Thirtha Swamiar of Shirur Mutt - Essential Religious Practice Test - K M Nanavati vs State of Maharashtra - Jury Trial and Pardoning Power of Governor - I C Golaknath vs State of Punjab Case - Power of Parliament to Amend the Constitution. In 11 Judges case Supreme Court held that Part 3 of Indian Constitution is fundamental in nature and parliament can not amend Fundamental rights given in Indian Constitution. Court also held that Article 368 provides procedure for the constitutional amendments and Amendment to the constitution is law as per article 13 of Indian Constitution. Court also applied the principle of Prospective overruling in Golaknath case. - His Highness Maharajadhiraja Madhav Rao Jiwaji Rao Scindia vs Union of India - In this case abolition of privy purse of erstwhile rulers were abolished  through presidential order so the rulers challenged that decision of government. A constitution bench restored the privy purse of rulers and held the Presidential order as unconstitutional. - Indira Nehru Gandhi vs Raj Narain Case - Election of Indira Gandhi was challenged due to election malpractice - ADM Jabalpur vs Shivkant Shukla Case - One of the most contentious decision of Supreme Court of India. This case is also known as habeus  corpus case. During emergency many opposition leaders were detained. They challenged the govt action through writ petitions in various High Courts. Decisions of High Courts were challenged in Supreme Court and SC held that Fundamental Rights Can be suspended during emergency. Right to move to High Courts under Article 226 during emergency was in issue in this case. - S.P. Gupta vs President of India Case - Those high Court judges, who have issued habeus corpus petition during emergency were transferred to different High Courts. This action of Government was challenged in SP Gupta Case. Major issue in this case was appointment of Judges of High Courts & Supreme Court. As the petition was filed by an Advocate and not by any aggrieved judges so issue of locus standi also settled in this case for public interest litigation. Supreme Court held that Bar / Advocates are integral part of judicial system and they can challenge the issues related to Judiciary. - Bachan Singh vs State of Punjab - It was death penalty case. The court expounded the principle of Rarest of Rare case in Bachan Singh Case. Court said life imprisonment is the rule and Death Penalty / Capital Punishment is exception. Only in rarest of rare cases capital punishment can be awarded to convict of murder. - Hussainara Khatoon vs Home Secretary, State of Bihar - Rights of Undertrial Prisoners, Right to Speedy Trial under Article 21 of Indian Constitution - Minerva Mills Ltd vs Union of India - Harmony and Balance between Fundamental Rights and Directive Principle of State Policy. Basic Structure Doctrine was applied in this case. - Bandhua Mukti Morcha vs Union of India - PIL for those who can not reach Supreme Court or High Courts for their breach of fundamental rights. Whether a person whom legal injury is caused by reason of violation of a fundamental right is unable to approach the court, any member of the public acting bona fide can move the court for relief under  Article 32 or Article 226 - Indian Express Newspaper vs Union of India Case - Freedom of PRess under freedom of speech and expression given in Article 19(1)a of Indian Constitution - Bijoe Emmanuel vs State of Kerala Case - Whether forcing the children to sing the national anthem violated their fundamental right to religion. Right to silence is part of fundamental right under Article 19 in Freedom of Speech and Expression - Mohamad Ahmad Khan vs Shah Bano Begum Case - Providing Maintenance to a divorced Muslim Woman - M C Mehta vs Union of India Case - Responsibility of industries in an accident, compensation, scope and ambit of the jurisdiction of the Supreme Court of India under Article 32 - Dr. D C Wadhwa vs State of Bihar Case - Re Promulgation of Ordinances in the Bihar to bypass the state legislature. - Kehar Singh vs Union of India Case - Pardoning power of the President of India under Indian Constitution - Mohini Jain vs State of Karnataka Case - Right to Education related judgment - Indira Sawhney vs Union of India Case - Also known as Mandal Commission Case. Landmark Case on Reservation of other backward classes.  - Kihoto Hollohan vs Zachillu Case - When anti defection provisions were added in the Indian Constitution these were challenged through this case. A Leading Case on Anti Defection Law. - Unni Krishnan vs State of Andhra Pradesh - This case is also related to Right to Education - Supreme Court Advocate on Record Association vs Union of India Case - This case was about appointment of judges to Supreme Court of India and in High Courts in India. Also famous as Second Judges Case.  - S R Bommai vs Union of India - Proclamation of Emergency under Article 356 of Indian Constitution, Secularism. - Union of India vs Association for Democratic Reforms - Right to know about public functionaries and candidates for office. Article 19 of Indian Constitution under fundamental right of freedom of speech and expression also include right to know about the candidates contesting for the public offices.  - T M A Pai Foundation vs State of Karnataka - Rights of Minority Educational Institutions - Samantha vs State of Andhra Pradesh - Granting of mining licenses in the scheduled area to non tribals  - Vineet Narain vs Union of India - Curbing political influence in the functioning of CBI / Central Bureau of Investigation - Bodhisattwa Gautam vs Subhra Chakraborty - Whether rape is violative of Right to Life under Article 21 of Indian Constitution - Sarla Mudgal vs Union of India - Principles against the practice of solemnizing second marriage by conversion to islam, with first marriage not being dissolved  - People's Union for Civil Liberties vs Union of India - Right to Food - R Rajagopal vs State of Tamil Nadu - Freedom of Speech and expression - Right to publish autobiography - In Re Special Reference Case of 1998 - Also known as Third Judges Case - Appointment of Judges of Supreme Court and High Courts in India - T N Godavarman Thirumulkpad vs Union of India - Forest Conservation. A leading case on Environmental law and about writ of continuous mandamus. - L Chandra Kumar vs Union of India - Power of High Courts and Supreme Court to review the legislative action - Vishaka vs State of Rajasthan - Sexual Harassment at the workplace, In this case Supreme Court of India laid down guidelines known as Vishaka Guidelines for protection of women against sexual harassment at workplaces for the time being there is no such law enacted by legislature. - Ashok Kumar Thakur vs Union of India - Reservations to OBC in central educational institutions - Kuldip Nayar vs Union of India - Requirement of domicile in the state concerned for getting elected to the council of states / Rajya Sabha ; Principle of Federalism is basic structure of the Indian Constitution - M Nagaraj vs Union of India - Reservation in Promotions for Scheduled Caste and Scheduled Tribe employees - People's Union of Civil Liberties vs Union of India - Right of the Voters to know  about the candidates contesting the election - I R Coelho vs State of Tamil Nadu - Interpretation of the doctrine of basic structure of the Constitution of India. 9th Schedule is not immune from the judicial review. - John Vallamattom vs Union of India - Section 118 of the Indian Succession Act, Advocated a common civil code / uniform civil code for the cause of national integration - Jaya Bachchan vs Union of India - Disqualification on the ground of Office of Profit - P A Inamdar vs State of Maharashtra - Reservation policy on minority and non minority unaided private colleges including professional colleges - Prakash Singh vs Union of India - This case is about the Police Reforms in India - Aruna Ramchandra Shaunbaug vs Union of India - Recognition of passive euthnasia by Supreme Court. Permitted withdrawl of life sustaining treatment from patients not in position to make an informed decision, only after the report of medical board constituted by High Courts in respective jurisdiction. - Pramati Educational and Cultural Trust vs Union of India - Constitutional Validity of Right to Education Act - Gian Sing vs State of Punjab - Settlements and Quashing of Criminal Proceedings under Section 482 of CRPC - Subramaniam Swamy vs Union of India - Constitutionality of the criminal offence of defamation under Indian Penal Code - Medha Kotwal Lele vs Union of India - Court repeated the Vishaka Guidelines and stressed additional measures for their enforcement - Shabnam Hasmi vs Union of India - Whether the right to adopt and to be adopted is a fundamental right under part 3 of Indian Constitution - Lily Thomas vs Union of India - Disqualifications for membership of parliament and state legislatures of convicted of any offense and sentenced to imprisonment for not less than two years. Decriminalization of Politics in India Case - Suresh Kumar Koushal vs Naz Foundation - Constitutional Validity of  Section 377 of Indian Penal Code which criminalized the homosexuality - Government of NCT of Delhi vs Union of India - Power tussle between Delhi Government and LT. Governor i.e. Central Government - TSR Subramanian vs Union of India - Professionalanizing the bureaucracy, promoting efficiency and good governance   - Shreya Singhal vs Union of India - Freedom of Speech and Expression Case in digital or internet age. Read the full article

[reddragonprincess]

And while she tried her best to call for some sea pets, her blondish companion, the one wielding a blessed bow – she thought by the look of the weapon – suddenly delivered a very good blow to the enemy. Despite the petite size, she was very strong! The red-haired princess admired the tenacity of the archer while observing the scene and on the other hand, the priest in the meanwhile did their job and put some good healing in the body of the wounded man that wield a spear.

“Now, this is some good team work!” she shouted, inciting her team and staring furiously at the enemy, “We’re gonna sent you back in the depth of the ocean!” she angrily said, pointing the axe towards it, but apparently the defiant tone used by the Macedon princess clearly caught the attention of the chalice-bearer, which suddenly attacked the red-haired woman with a very peculiar blow: all around Minerva appeared some kind of floral whirls, getting closer at her body and making her feel quite claustrophobic in the remaining space left around her.

Drunken Chalicebearer 5/20HP hits Minerva 8/10HP with Floral Prison [Roll: 18 - 6 = 12; Hit] Minerva’s buffs are disabled for her next combat instance! Minerva is inflicted with Held Under until the start of EP4.

She suddenly felt weak, less rapid and less reactive, as if the whirls imprisoned her inside a bubble where she couldn’t do much if not defend herself from the closeness of the whirlwind: it was a suffocating sensation and Minerva couldn’t do much, aside asking for help and encouraging her new friends to beat the creature.

“Don’t worry about me, please, eliminate the target!” she yelled with all her lungs, hoping the team could hear her out even if it was trapped inside this twirling prison. But of course, that wasn’t enough: the creature, once again, targeted the red-haired woman trapped in the whirls, managing to cast a spell and hit the Macedon warrior with a mighty blow.

Drunken Chalicebearer 5/20HP critically hits, hits Minerva 8/10HP with Taurus Bronte [Roll: 20 + 0 = 20; 5 + 0 = 5; -2HP, -1HP, Minerva 5/10HP] Minerva 5/10HP misses Drunken Chalicebearer 5/20HP with Killer Axe [Roll: 11 - 6 = 5; Miss, Drunken Chalicebearer 5/20HP] Minerva gains 1 stack of Azure Spike [Total: 2] Minerva’s buffs are no longer disabled.

She did her best, but the space was so little and the axe felt so heavy in her arm: she tried to swing back at the enemy, but the miss was inevitable and the stinging sensation doubled in less than a moment, forcing the poor woman to collapse on her right knee. “It’s… nothing” she endured the pain, avoiding any eye contact and trying her best to push herself up again, but another occurrence made her body go numb and the attempt to get up failed miserably.

Omen activates! Minerva 5/10HP takes -2HP [Minerva 3/10HP]

She felt horrible when she saw the others battling so fiercely and since she felt pretty sluggish at the moment, she thought the best opportunity she could have, was to call out for more help, since the sea creatures turned out to be more useful than she thought; with all her remaining forces, she began to look around and search, until she eventually found another ally. Obviously, the spikes appeared once again, making the red-haired woman flinched a little as she didn’t expect the pain to come again.

Minerva 3/10HP gains 1 stack of Azure Spike [Total: 1] Minerva 3/10HP uses her turn to summon an Aquatic Familiar! [Roll: 3] Blue Iguana has been summoned!

A very cute iguana made its appearance nearby Minerva, though not really capable of freeing her from the whirls cage. “Please, you should help the others” and she pointed her companions, hoping the iguana would actually help everyone to defeat the chalice-bearer.

notos.

Team 10 Bronze Round

[funnycatfelix]

i wiould like 2 hear more on the batim bioshock thing 🎤

oh my god okay. the creators of batim made it no secret they really liked bioshock. like. they REALLY liked bioshock. so much so that all of these things happen in both UNDER A CUT BEACUSE IM ABOUT TO GO CRAZY. also huge spoilers for batim and bioshock. obviously.

firstly i gotta say, I really really like the idea behind batim it was like babys first hyperfixation. whatever. the point is it fumbled hard in the last 3 chapters (only half of chapter 3 but 4 and 5 are bad. I wont budge on that)

anyway.

the collapse of a hypercapitalist empire

probably the most common thing you could see in any game, but the specifics between bioshock and batim are kind of hard to ignore once you see them. The creation of rapture and joey drew studios is extremely different, but in the end they end up as giant pieces of spectacle, all at the cost of worker exploitation.

SIMILARITIES I NOTICED IN RAPTURE AND THE STUDIO

in order of how much of a reach they are

arts section: kind of a stretch but yeah the music department kind of fits the bill to me at least. The subtle similarities between sammy lawrence and sander cohen interest me (idolization of the head figure of the fallen society, cult-like obsession really)

HUGE FUCKING STRUCTURES that are not really built to last the test of time (heavenly toys, the theme park [we'll get back to the park later], and what the fuck was that shit in chapter 5!)

dark ruined atmosphere (important to note that the studio feels more lost to time compared to rapture feeling rotten/decaying)

SIMILARITIES I NOTICED IN BASIC GAME ELEMENTS

(again listed as how much of a stretch they are)

audio logs/dairies being used to chronicle the fall of the empire/death of the workers. this is in a lot of games though (however the recorders look similar to me. again could be a stretch)

the needle weapon featured in chapter 3 strongly resembled the ones the little sisters use to harvest adam, and is even functioning in the exact same way.

malice (that's what i like to call the fucked up one) speaks to you primarily over speakers very similar to how any leading character in bioshock 1/2 will

cryptic writing on the walls (seen more in bioshock 2) to set the mood.

the music in bioshock and batim are scarily similar. STRONG violin motifs that are exceptionally unique to me, but not so much when compared to one another. (they also use music cues in many of the same situations, though that's kind of a stretch bc that's just another tool to set the mood that can be seen in a lot of games)

PLOT POINTS, CHARACTER MOMENTS, AND STORY BEATS THAT FEEL SIMILAR TO BIOSHOCK. no specific order because i really do feel all of them are pretty obvious once you look.

faceless protag who barely talks and has a plot twist past at the end of the game (this is present in bioshock 1 as well as the minerva's den DLC and bioshock infinite as much as i hate infinite)

Boring being turned into franked boris is pretty much the same as sinclaire being turned into subject omega. not only to do have to kill your close ally but he is turned into a horrible monster unable to stop himself from fighting you. (additionally, you are locked in the area with him and FORCED to deliver the kill. there is no rescue.)

the whole thing with malice wanting to be perfect and beautiful reminds me of Dr. Steinmen and his obsessive desire to pioneer perfect human beauty (before he goes piccaso mode)

Joey drew and Susie Campbell is a similarly exploitative relationship just like Andrew Ryan and Jasmine Jolene. (both resulting in the women meeting a horrible fate)

the main character returns to the location to fulfill some sort of predetermined plot set up by the antagonist

worker exploitation. I cannot hammer in enough how much people fucking brushed over this theme in both games. Joey and Andrew are shitty leaders who treat their working class employees like fucking garbage and expect no consequences

inhuman transformation as a result of unethical experimentation/treatment of people. (this one is a bit of a stretch as we don't get concrete confirmation that the ink monsters are all past humans, but I believe it's the most widely accepted interp so i'm putting that shit on anyway)

flooding

so much flooding

why is there so much liquid

leading figure of a big project is turned into a huge monster within their own creation (bertrum and gil both suffer this fate, and both are equally fucked up)

whats left of the population have been turned into inhuman feral monsters I know I touched on this already but the themes of body horror are so uncannily similar.

WORKER EXPLOITATION BOTH CITIES FALL BECAUSE OF INTENSE AND MONSTROUS WORKER EXPLOITATION. The pipes in rapture literally burst because Ryan won't pay to have them heated but he will force repair workers to keep fixing them forever. The pipes burst because joey disregarded anyone saying what they had would not work

bendy turning into a giant. thing at the end is literally what frank fontaine does to himself at the end of bioshock. this also happens at the end of the minervas den DLC. This is also what happens at the end of bioshock 2.

the man who built the empire gives a monolog at the end of the game giving the big reveal that the main character has no free will and never has. (sidenote, why did joey talk like that. and also why does he literally look like an older wrinklier andrew ryan?)

okay yeah that abouuuut covers all the stuff that I could think of. OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD. im sure theres more. I havent looked at anything in ages in regards to batim actaully. but yeah. batim is kind of just bioshock with a sepia filter and writing that is not nearly as nuanced. feel free to ask me more about it because I genuinely love both games so much.

[teecupangel]

From @thedragonqueen1998

Desmond would probably enjoy tearing Rodrigo apart. XD

From me

@thedragonqueen1998 he definitely would! But not as much as he'd love to tear apart Cesare. Unfortunately, Cesare isn't born yet (i think?) so he would just have to be content with destroying Rodrigo's balls XD

From @thedragonqueen1998

OMG. Him just curve stomping Rodrigo's crotch while yelling "Fuck you Cesare! Good luck being born now fucker!". Im fucking dying! *wheeze*

And the funny thing is no one understands him. All they see is this large monstrosity stomping on Rodrigo’s crotch while growling and roaring and all of them are scared shitless but the only exit was inaccessible thanks to a cavein.

From @zero-saito

Have I said I love this? I’m saying it again! Lol since they are using Desmond’s proper name, Minerva’s message is gonna hit very differently. Either their monster is supposed to save the world or that’s a really weird coincidence 😂 minerva having to do a double take at seeing Desmond the fluffy murder baby on Ezios shoulder

From me

@zero-saito I’m glad you love this idea! I was thinking if I want Minerva’s message just be a recording based on her meeting with Ezio before Desmond traveled back in time or if I want her to talk to Ezio and Desmond. The first one would keep the timeline sorta more or less intact in terms of Isu interference but the latter would have a bewildered Minerva trying to make sense of what the ever living hell is she seeing.

From @zero-saito

@teecupangel why not both? The message can start the way it’s supposed to then there is a glitch as Minerva double checks her stuff and then questions everything. I’m all for messing with the ISU cause fuck then. Also minerva can’t ask desmond anything cause he can’t talk lol

Ooohhh, what if the message begins to play and then just as it starts to go “It is done. The message is delivered. We are gone now from this world. All of us. We can do no more. The rest is up to you, Desmon-”

The message begins to glitch and starts to say, “Des-Des-Desmond-Desmond-Desmon-”

Then the hologram disappears, making Ezio more confused than he already was.

Silence.

Ezio turns to look at Desmond who looks back at him with wide eyes.

He has no idea what just happened and he can’t even tell Ezio that.

Ezio is wondering if by Desmond, she meant…

No.

That’s impossible.

Or is it?

As Ezio’s mind starts going in circles, another hologram appears and it’s Minerva once more.

… staring at Desmond with a confused and slightly manic expression.

“Desmond… what have you done?”

Ezio just stared while Desmond… shrugged.

He absolutely has no idea what Minerva was talking about.

Submitted by @saberamane​

After seeing that chinchilla Desmond ask, it reminded me of my first impression upon encountering the ferox in Ark survival evolved, Genesis part 1. I know it has a cat/fox like face and kind of red panda tail and monkey-ish body but, my first experience with it was in game, as I hadn’t watched the trailer. And I thought it was a mutated chinchilla…

Saying that! A Ferox! Desmond au would be amazing. He’s small and cute, doing cute little hops to beg for treats, and then he’s a 7 foot tall wolf-gorilla thing capable of tearing your head off your body…

I just have a picture of guards angrily breaking into an ancestor’s house (like the Auditore villa at the start of AC2) and finding this cute…thing just sitting on the other side of the door, wagging it’s tail, and then they watch in horror as it suddenly grows, up and up, and up.

And then there’s nothing but screams…

================================

Additions by teecup

For those unfamiliar with what a Ferox look like, here you go:

Desmond would probably spend quite a lot of time trying to get used to his new body, especially his newly acquired four arms so he’d be a bit of a klutz too. And he’d be super surprised when he first transforms into his other form but also ‘hell yeah!’.

Desmond would just be a fluffy sweet bunny? Fox? Cat? No one knows (and Leonardo is trying to understand what he is) but that doesn’t really matter since Desmond is more or less docile and just likes to eat and cuddle. Not being liked by him would make a person a social pariah XD

So we have an idea of how Desmond could screw up AC2 (also, he can totally protect Monteriggioni by going on a rampage on the papacy army, although this might start a rumor of Monteriggioni having a demon as an attack dog) and Desmond could easily thwart Charles Lee’s plan to burn down Ratonhnhaké:ton’s village by going ham on them either while staying with Kaniehtí:io that day or by transforming and ‘taking care’ of the soldiers before Charles Lee could even hurt Ratonhnhaké:ton.

Now, the most common setup would be for Desmond to be Altaïr’s pet but may I suggest an alternative: Desmond as baby Sef’s pet? Sef found him while he and Darim are playing (maybe they were even able to sneak out of Masyaf) and he brought him back because Desmond doesn’t recognize Sef but he looks a lot like Altaïr so he just makes soft purring sounds as he put all his arms in the air in the universal gesture of ‘pick me up’ and Sef does. 

His transformation is kept a secret and Altaïr thinks Desmond might have mutated with the use of a POE. He’s still more or less Sef’s pet even though Desmond likes to follow Altaïr around when Sef isn’t in Masyaf. 

So when Swami tried to assassinate Sef in his sleep, Desmond is curled on top of Sef’s chest and he jumped down, staring at Swami. 

Swami’s eyes widened as Desmond transformed right in front of him and he let out a scream that gets drowned by Desmond’s roar.

Sef immediately wakes up to see Desmond pinning Swami against the floor and Sef knew that something fishy is certainly going on. Even though Swami is babbling that it was his father who ordered for his death, Sef doesn’t believe him.

First of all: His father wouldn’t order for this death. Of all the things Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad might and might not be, his love for his family will never be questioned.

Second of all: Even if Altaïr wanted him dead, he wouldn’t pick someone like Swami to kill him, that’s insulting. (At this point, both Swami and Desmond just stare at Sef because, yeah, he might be nicer and sweeter than his father but the Ibn-La'Ahad arrogance seems to be hereditary).

“Third of all…” Sef looked at Desmond and grinned, “Shall we get some exercise, Desmond?”

Desmond roared his agreement and…

That day, the conspiracy against Altaïr’s family and allies was thwarted by a large monster. Many of Abbas’ supposed allies squealed like pigs and admitted everything while being pinned down by said monster.

Malik drowned in paperwork that day.

[bloodtroth]

If you're taking prompts, I'd love a fic with plenty of angst between them, pwp or not. Anything in the Fantastic Beasts era where Albus didn't go with Gellert but they're meeting in secret because they can't help themselves. Something set around Christmas time would be a dream come true. I love your fics so much.

A/N: thank you, anon, for the prompt and the compliment. In the FB timeline, this would take place just before the first movie, since Albus uses the deluminator in the deleted scenes in FB2, but after Gellert has been causing chaos and declared a wanted criminal in Europe. Hope that's acceptable, also hope the angst is sufficient (which is not what I say often, may how the turntables) 🙏

title from the original angsty version of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, performed by Egg here

AO3 link

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"Leaving, Albus?"

Albus’ heart gave a small jump as he came to a stop on the stairs that led to outside. He had purposely chosen to leave late in the night, hoping to avoid detection. Turning around, he saw Minerva at the top of the stairs, her wand held aloft to light her path. Albus gave her a warm smile. "Yes, I'm spending Christmas with some friends this year."

Minerva looked somewhat surprised before her expression changed into an approving smile. "Good, I've thought for a while you should get out of this castle for once.” For a moment, Albus smile become more real; Minerva could be amusingly maternal even though he was much older than her. But when his thoughts flashed to what he was off to do, it threatened to fade. Only the knowledge that Minerva was watching him kept the smile on his face.

“Have fun, Albus,” Minerva said warmly, shaking Albus free of his thoughts, “Merry Christmas." She turned back towards the door.

"To you too. I will see you later," Albus called after her. Minerva gave him another smile over her shoulder, before disappearing back inside. Albus waited until the click of her heels disappeared down the hallway, making certain she was gone before he turned around.

His smile faded. As he started down the stairs again, his hand brushed against the letter on his coat pocket. It had been delivered by a small raven last night. Inside it there was a small piece of parchment with an address and the words, I want to see you, written in an elegant hand. There was no signature, but Albus didn't need one to know who it was from. Briskly, he walked over the grounds and outside the gate, checking the address one more time before turning in place and disappearing, his heart beating in a nervous, anticipatory rhythm the entire time.

He appeared in front of a small cottage in a small village west of Inverness. It was one of those small places that seemed to exist beyond time; unchanging. The cottage stood apart from the rest of the town, standing on its own on top of a small hill, from where you could just see the lights of the village. It had been snowing heavily, and the covering of snow had turned the cottage white, blending it into the landscape around it, blurring the lines until you weren't certain where anything started or ended. It was a small building, and what little could be seen of its walls under the cover of snow, was old and stained with time. It would have looked abandoned if it weren't for the soft light that shone through the narrow windows.

He is here already, Albus thought, anticipation and dread fluttering in his stomach. Getting out his wand, he waved it in a circle around him to ensure no one had followed him. The only thing his magic detected was a fox that was standing by a crumbling masonry wall that separated the yard of the house from the field surrounding it. Its ears flickered as it regarded Albus warily. As Albus turned his wand towards it to ensure it was not an Animagus, the fox slipped through a crack on the wall and ran across the snow-covered field before disappearing out of sight. Satisfied, Albus put his wand back into his pocket and walked to the door of the cottage, the snow crunching under his boots as he went. He came in to contact with the wards Gellert had already put in place, passing through them easily. When he reached the door, he did not bother to knock and just let himself in.

Warm air greeted him, pressing against him like a hug. Some of the tension swept away from Albus body. Gellert was standing by a small fireplace, the flames painting his silver hair and pale skin golden, and making his fascinatingly peculiar eyes glow. Albus’ chest ached at the sight of him, as it always did. As he closed the door behind him, he took in the rest of the cottage. There wasn't much to see. A big bed took most of the room, along with a table and a few chairs, and the fireplace along the wall that Gellert was standing next to. As Albus looked at Gellert again, he was looking back, wearing the intense look that he always wore around Albus and no one else.

"You came," Gellert said, and although it wasn't a question, Albus nodded. At this point, he wasn't sure why either of them bothered to act as if it was in doubt. He could tell himself each time that this was the last time, but it would never be true. He was drawn to Gellert and Gellert was drawn to him; neither of them could stay away for long, and neither of them could say no. It would be like trying to stop planets at their orbits. Just like the moon could not help but circle the earth, Albus could not help but return, again and again. He wished he could choose to not go. Or rather, he wished that he wished he could choose not to go. Being with Gellert went against everything he now fought for, every morale he now upheld. It made him a hypocrite, an enabler. All the things he wished he wasn't but knew he was. He knew that eventually, it would all come to an end. One day they would be forced to fight, and one of them would take the other down, and that would be the end of it. But that day was not yet here. Not now, when Albus walked across the room and embraced him. Not when they took off their clothes and fell into the bed, into each other. Not at this moment, when Albus traced out his features with his finger, memorising the feel of him.

Afterwards, they lay in each other's arms, simply basking in each other’s presence. Gellert's hands were in his hair, curling it in strands around his fingers, and the fire from the fireplace was a pleasant heat against his naked skin. His ear was pressed against Gellert's chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. They were silent. They often were when they met like this. And they met more often than Albus liked to think about. Words would have simply reminded them of the world outside, driving a wedge between them. At the start, Gellert had tried but had quickly given in when he realised Albus would not be swayed to join him. And Albus did not wish to initiate conversation himself, not wanting to provoke Gellert to talk of that day, not wanting to know something he was sure would break him. So, instead of talking, they simply existed together, enjoying what time they could together.

He would have liked to tell himself that he dreamed of a softer, kinder world where the both of them could simply exist and love openly, freely, but he would have been lying to himself, and lying to himself was not something he tried to make a habit of. In a softer, kinder world, Gellert would not be who he was, and Albus loved him as he was, in all his power and his darkness, even his cruelty. In a softer, kinder world, Albus would not be himself either. A soft, kind world was not meant for the likes of them. So, he would take this, what they had in this world, the secrecy and the shame, the guilt that gnawed him alive. He would take it all just for a moment with Gellert, no matter how short and not destined to last.

"I have something for you," Gellert said suddenly, breaking the silence. Albus looked at him, curious and wary. He hoped Gellert would not try and persuade him to come with him again. The truth was that Albus did not know if he could resist forever, not when Gellert was so near and real; a soft breathing thing that Albus loved.

Gellert reached out his hand, and a small object, something that looked like a silver cigarette lighter, but that Albus could immediately tell was much more, flew into his palm. He handed it to Albus, and he carefully took it, turning it around in his hand. It had a small switch on top of it. Albus looked at Gellert questioningly, who gave him an encouraging nod. Somewhat apprehensive but trusting Gellert not to give him anything that would hurt him, not now, Albus clicked it. The fire in the fireplace went out, leaving them into darkness. He clicked it again, the light returned.

"I'm assuming it's not simply a light switch?" Albus asked, inspecting it and trailing his fingers against the faint runes upon its silver surface.

Gellert shook his head, his hair brushing against Albus’ head with the movement. "No, although it can be used as such, for any light. It has the power to suck all the light from a place and restore it, with simply a click. It's a deluminator, but it also works as a homing device. It will lead you to me, no matter where you are in the world or where I am."

"Gellert- " Albus started to say but trailed off. This was a huge advantage if- when the time would come. Gellert was not a stupid man, in fact, he was the smartest man Albus knew if he did not count himself, so he must have known it. But he had still given it to him, perhaps still hoping that one day Albus would change his mind and come to him.

"You will need it one day," Gellert explained, in his eyes that faraway look he sometimes had when he was Seeing something. "I'm not certain yet why, but you will need it, and it's important that you have it."

Gellert's visions were not always clear-cut, and the future was never certain and ever-changing, but Gellert had still wished him to have it based merely on a faint impression that he would need it somewhen in time. Sometimes Albus thought that Gellert put too much stock in his visions, making him blind to everything else. He still remembered how he had trembled that day when he had received his first vision of Albus' death. How he had grasped him, desperately, and begged him to stay away from Ariana. But his sister was dead, and Albus lived. Despite these thoughts, the gesture moved him. He closed his fist around it and brought it close to his heart, craning his head to kiss Gellert gently.

"Merry Christmas, mein Schatz," Gellert whispered against his lips as they parted, his nose brushing Albus' own. Closing his eyes against the burn in them, Albus placed his hand against Gellert's heart, his other hand clutching the deluminator tightly.

"Merry Christmas, Gellert."

[helnjk]

Snowed In - C.W.

Charlie Weasley x fem!reader

Requested: yes! by my love @lupinsclassroom

Ah HA I finally came up with a Charlie request. Okay, of course it’s professor reader because I’m obsessed with them but like....Charlie visits hogwarts, and then (I know logistically this isn’t possible bc ✨magic✨) but he gets snowed in and has to stay in the castle for the weekend and it’s just cozy and soft 🥺

Word count: 2.6k

Summary: sometimes, it takes just the right circumstances to get what you want. 

Warnings: meal mention, reference to/implied sex (blink and you’ll miss it), winter fluff! 

A/N: this took me so long to get done aaaaaaaa 😩 but yay ! more COMC professor & charlie 🥰

– 

Christmas at Hogwarts was always a spectacular sight. The professors always loved to go above and beyond with the decorations, but even without them, the grounds and the castle looked, well, magical. 

“Professor L/N?” a voice from across the room mumbled. 

Y/N looked up from the stack of papers she was grading to see Eloise Abbott, wrapped in her cloak and her Hufflepuff scarf, standing at the entrance to her office. A neatly wrapped present was clutched in her gloved hands as she waited for her professor to invite her inside. 

Athena was perched on her stand behind Y/N, resting after a long afternoon of delivering various Christmas gifts. Her sleeping figure seemed to appease the student’s apprehension slightly as she called out, “Come on in, Eloise!” 

“Isn’t the train supposed to be leaving soon? What’re you still doing in the castle?” Y/N questioned, stashing away the stack of parchments on her desk, that way her attention would be fully on the Hufflepuff. 

“Yep!” Eloise replied quickly, “I just wanted to drop off a present for you before I go! I know that you’re staying here for the holidays, right?” 

“You’re right.” Y/N smiled. “Thank you for thinking of me, Eloise, that was very sweet of you.”

A swift nod was her reply, and as quick as she had come, Ms. Abbott turned on her heel and darted out of the room. Thankfully, she remembered to yell a hasty, “Happy Christmas!” over her shoulder before she was fully out of hearing range. 

Y/N shook her head with a soft smile on her lips. Even after being her professor for nearly six years now, Eloise was still a shy little thing when it came to communicating with professors or any sort of authority figure. Still, the gesture warmed her heart greatly. 

The thought of gifts and spending Christmas alone, well, not exactly alone, but not with the Weasleys this year put a slight damper on her mood, though. Minerva had asked her if she could spend the holidays at Hogwarts this year since they were running short of staff who could chaperone the students. Of course, Y/N could never say no to her favorite teacher turned cool boss. It was the least she could do. 

With a sigh, she stroked Athena’s soft feathers and came to the conclusion that she was too distracted to continue her grading. 

Despite her attempt for some alone time, Minerva managed to stop her in the hallway. 

“Ah Y/N, just the person I wanted to see,” the older professor smiled.

“Anything I can do for you, Min?” Y/N replied.

She nodded, “I need your help with a particularly odd creature in my office. It doesn’t seem to want to leave.” 

The two professors briskly walked towards the Headmistress’ office side by side, their winter robes swishing around their legs. Professor L/N’s brows furrowed at the lack of concern Minerva had shown at the fact that there was a creature in her office. Of course, the older witch was highly skilled and educated, so maybe it wasn’t that big of a problem. What did she need Y/N’s help for then? 

“Er, Minerva,” Y/N began as they turned a corner, “What creature exactly is in your office? Do you think we need backup?” 

“I didn’t exactly get a good look at it, I just saw that it had orange-colored fur.” 

“Minerva.” 

The sly grin that she was met with did nothing to help the situation. Y/N simply rolled her eyes and went along with the all too obvious scheme the Headmistress had hatched up this time. 

The pair said nothing else as they continued their journey to the Minerva’s office, save for the password–’panthera leo’–once they reached the gargoyle statue. Y/N’s curiosity got the better of her as they ascended the spiral staircase, especially since the older witch hadn’t stopped grinning. 

“So, you’re not going to tell me what’s going on despite the fact that you’re grinning at me like a cheshire cat?” Y/N probed, raising an eyebrow. 

“You’ll see, dear.” 

The younger professor had to push down the urge to roll her eyes. Thankfully, they had reached the top of the staircase, and the words she was about to say got stuck in her throat as she saw what, or rather who, was in the office. 

“Charlie?” she gasped, after pushing the door open. 

Leaning against the large oak desk with his legs crossed in front of him was Charlie Weasley with a shit-eating grin. Y/N paused at the entrance to the Headmistress’ office, her eyes darting between the redhead and her boss. 

“He’s the orange-furred creature that you can’t seem to get out of your office?” 

Even as she spoke the words, her head couldn’t wrap around the absurdity of the situation. Charlie let out a loud laugh at her question, his eyes moving his former professor and head of house, who had just slipped past Y/N and into her office. 

“I asked Minnie here to help me out some with surprising you,” he grinned cheekily. 

He pushed off the desk and took a few short strides. Faster than she could comprehend, he was standing in front of her, soft eyes staring down at hers and rough hands grasping at her arms. 

“Hi,” he spoke softly. 

In an instant, she practically melted in his arms, “Hi Charlie.” 

The sound of someone clearing their throat brought them out of their little bubble and their heads turned in Minerva’s direction.

“Alright Mr. Weasley, I helped you surprise Y/N,” she smiled knowingly, “Now off with you two! I’ve got a school to run.” 

With a shout of thanks, Charlie took Y/N’s hand and practically dragged her out of the office. Biting her lip to contain her grin, she felt like she was a student again, laughing through the deserted hallways as she and her boyfriend ran towards her quarters. 

There was a lot of tripping over their own feet and a lot of giggling, but she hadn’t felt this elated in a long time. Whenever Charlie would turn to look back at her, the edges of her lips would turn upwards automatically, as if he was the source of her happiness and her laughter.

Which, in a lot of ways, he was. 

Y/N had never been so glad to see the castle empty. It meant that she could let her professional professor facade down and let loose without having to think too hard about the repercussions. 

“So,” she started as they reached the hallway containing her room, “Care to tell me when you planned all of this?” 

The sparkle of mischief and delight in Charlie’s eyes nearly made her swoon, “I can’t stay long, unfortunately. Mum’s expecting me at the Burrow tonight, but I got an early portkey so that I could see you before Christmas.” 

Pushing up on her tiptoes, Y/N kissed him softly, “You’re wonderful, do you know that?” 

“Careful there, love, we don’t want to boost my ego too much.” 

–

“You all set?” Y/N asked, smoothing out the creases in Charlie’s scarf and trying to busy herself in an attempt to distract her mind from the thought of not spending Christmas in his arms. 

With a deep sigh, he answered, “Yep, just about.” 

Majority of their afternoon together was spent in bed, much to their joint amusement. In Charlie’s defense, he had come to do whatever it was that Y/N wanted, and well, that was what she ended up choosing. In hindsight, it was probably their best option anyway, since the weather outside the castle had slowly begun to worsen. 

By the time they had stumbled out of the warmth of Y/N’s bed and had gotten dressed once again, it was practically dark outside due to the snowstorm that rolled in. 

“It’s looking pretty rough out there,” she noted, as the pair of them walked hand in hand down the deserted hallways. 

Now and then, a student staying at Hogwarts for the holidays would pass by them and try their hardest not to stare at their hot Care of Magical Creatures professor and her equally hot dragon tamer boyfriend. 

Each time a student rushed past, Charlie would wait until they were out of sight before making eye contact with Y/N and smiling so big it shouldn’t have been humanly possible. 

“You’re insufferable,” she grumbled after the third student they encountered disappeared around the corner. 

“You love me,” he shrugged. 

The bickering pair paused mid step when they heard a new set of footsteps approaching them. For the second time that day, Y/N watched as Minerva approached. 

“I’m afraid your journey to the Burrow has to be put on hold, Mr. Weasley,” she spoke as she reached the pair. 

“What?” Y/N and Charlie said together. 

“The storm outside is much too harsh for anyone to walk past the apparition wards, even with impervious charms,” she explained.

“What about your floo, can’t he use that to get to the Burrow?” 

As Y/N spoke, she couldn’t help but feel a little guilty at the pang of excitement she felt at the thought of being able to spend more time with Charlie. 

“Ministry’s just gotten back with word that the Floo Network is under maintenance until further notice.” 

Charlie’s eyes flickered from Minerva’s solemn eyes to Y/N’s slightly confused ones, before he nodded, “Alright. Seems like I’m spending the night at Hogwarts then.” 

–

Dinner that night was amusing to say the least. As most students were at home with their families, those who stayed behind all fit in the long table that was usually the Head Table. Minerva, Charlie, and Y/N tried their hardest to contain their smiles at the incredulous looks that some of the students had. 

For some, it was their first time being in such close and intimate proximity to their professors. Others were wary of the attendance of the non-Hogwarts staff member, partly because he was a dragon tamer and mostly because he was Professor L/N’s boyfriend. 

Y/N’s heart had melted, however, at the sight of Charlie having a chat with the younger students. She had a flashback of summers at the Burrow when his younger siblings still weren’t old enough to attend Hogwarts, and how they looked at him with wide eyes and thought everything he said was gospel. 

“And then he opened his mouth so big I thought I was done for,” he spoke with such a tone that even Y/N was drawn in, “But turns out the old bugger was just going in for a yawn.” 

The end of his story elicited a giggle from the youngest student at the table and Y/N was sure that her heart was positively a pile of goo.

As discreetly as she possibly could, she placed her hand on top of Charlie’s thigh and grinned cheerfully as he took the signal and placed his larger one on hers. 

“Is it bad if I said that I’m glad you’re going to be here tonight?” she whispered when most of the attention wasn’t on them anymore.

“Absolutely not.” Charlie grinned and squeezed her hand. “Don’t you think the Floo being down sounds a little odd, though?” 

The pair glanced at each other and then their eyes drifted towards the Headmistress. As if she could read their minds–which was entirely possible–Minerva caught their eyes and smirked from behind her goblet as she took a sip from it. 

“Honestly, who knows what Minerva can come up with,” Y/N murmured, “She could tell us that there was a rogue Ministry gryffin creating potions in the dungeons and we would believe her.” 

The nonchalance of her statement choked out a loud laugh from Charlie. The stilted noise coming from him as he tried to contain his amusement ended up making her giggle as well. As the group finished up with their meal, the pair of them would catch each other’s eyes once in a while and another round of trying to repress their laughs would begin. 

They waited as everyone shuffled out of the Great Hall, stomachs full and eyes slightly droopy from the big meal. Their hands found each other as they walked down the chilly halls, providing a source of heat and comfort in the midst of so much cold. 

Once they reached Y/N’s quarters, Charlie flopped down on the bed with a sigh, stretching out on the comforter with a groan. 

Y/N couldn’t resist the urge to crawl onto the bed, tucking herself at his side. The familiar warmth of Charlie’s strong arm wrapping around her was enough for her to sigh contentedly, closing her eyes and succumbing to the gentle pull of sleep. 

“Wait, wait…” she heard him mumble, feeling the words vibrate through his chest. 

A groan escaped her lips as she felt him shift, pulling the both of them into a seated position. 

“Can’t, ‘m comfy here,” she grumbled, refusing to open her eyes. 

Instead of replying, Charlie carefully maneuvered them so that she lay back on the cold sheets and he slipped off the bed. It was silent for a few moments, save for the sound of his footsteps echoing through the room. Y/N was tempted to crack open her eyes just to see what he was up to, but the comfort posed by the bed was too strong. 

She knew he would eventually come back, and he did, the bed dipping as he kneeled on the space next to her. 

“Love,” he whispered, his hand brushing her cheek softly. 

“What’s it?” she mumbled, finally easing her eyes open. 

Beside her, sitting on the backs of his heels, Charlie held out a wrapped gift. The sight of him with a sheepish smile on his face, hands fidgeting nervously with the ribbon wrapped around the package, was enough for Y/N to sit up quickly. 

“Charlie?” she asked, tentatively taking the gift from him, “What’s this?” 

Her boyfriend cleared his throat before speaking, “I, erm, I was going to wait to have this delivered to you on Christmas morning but, I figured I’d rather see you open it in person.” 

Y/N didn’t need any more explanation as she tore open the wrapping. An intricately designed box opened to reveal the most beautiful necklace she had ever laid her eyes on. It was fairly simple, the design, a single pearl-like object in the center of a silver chain. If it weren’t shifting through iridescent hues of pink then blue then green then purple, she would have thought it were a pearl.

Tentatively, her fingers glided over the small round thing and it was warm to the touch.

“Oh it’s gorgeous,” she breathed, her eyes flitting upwards to meet Charlie’s.

“You like it?” he rubbed the back of his neck. 

“I love it!” she grinned, “Will you put it on me?” 

For having such large and calloused hands, Charlie was nimble and quick with the clasp of the necklace, his fingers sending shivers down her spine as he placed the necklace on her. 

“It’s made out of the shell of an Antipodean Opaleye’s egg,” he explained when she turned to face him once more, “I asked a friend of mine back in Romania if he could fashion it onto a necklace. I saw the shell and thought it would look stunning on you, I was right.” 

With a soft smile, Y/N’s arms snaked around his neck and she pressed a soft kiss on his lips, “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.” 

“Love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

The couple stayed in each other’s arms for a long time, relishing in the warmth and comfort of the other. When they finally managed to get dressed for bed and Y/N was tucked under Charlie’s arm for the night, their hearts were full. 

“Happy Christmas, my love,” he whispered as they were lulled to sleep. 

–

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