#minerva; physique

[salmalin]

I commissioned @decadentworld for this piece of Genesis and Minerva in the place of Adam and God in "The Creation of Adam" and I cannot emphasize enough how the quality of the work surpassed any and all expectations I had. My mental image was captured flawlessly, and I'm so glad with how it came out. I cannot wait to hang this on my wall.

I'll put a link to the uncensored piece in the comments for those who want it.

Image description under the cut.

Using the staging of the classical art piece by Michelangelo's painting of the Birth of Adam from Book of Genesis, Genesis Rhapsodos from Final Fantasy VII is in the place of Adam and Minerva is in the place of God.

Genesis has red hair and a lithe, muscular build. His face and general appearance is based on the image of a Japanese rock musician, Gackt, while his body is painted with more classical ideals of physique instead of modern. He is nude except for a bit of foliage over his groin, reclining against a dumbapple tree bearing purple fruit. He is reaching for Minerva, their hands nearly touching.

Beneath him are the exposed roots of the dumbapple tree, where Angeal's hand, glove tattered, is among the soil. There are long white feathers scattered around his feet, calling to mind his deterioration in the source material, as well as a purple dumbapple hanging above his and Minerva's hands, symbolizing that their connection bore fruit.

Minerva is on the right, replacing God in the original painting, with Whispers replacing the many cherubs that were around Him. Minerva is a blonde white woman wearing white, draping fabrics with god and blue armor over top—a breastplate and pauldrons.

The Whispers are figures that are made entirely of ghost-like cloaks. They are both white and black, symbolizing that Minerva's actions are both in support and denial of the Planet's will, as Genesis was born of Jenova's cells—an alien that was not part of Her. The Cloud/Womb-like structure around God in the original painting has been replaced by the Lifestream, a bright-green liquid-adjacent substance that can be perceived and drawn as a series of flowing threads.

The painting is done in the style of Michelangelo.

[pparadiselost]

the death of a wallflower.

university professor hinata shoyo x university student fem reader your crush on the hot new professor gets out of hand. warning(s): nsfw, unhealthy relationship dynamic (teacher x student), named best friend oc, reader has an unnamed ex, pov change for one of the scenes, non-virgin reader, use of american university setting minors do not interact.

XX UNIVERSITY

XX SEMESTER

WEEK 2

“no, like, our new professor is seriously so hot. like, forget-your-shitty-ex kinda hot. ugh, just wait till you’re in class! you have to believe me!”

minnie’s words echo like the foreshadowing of some porno as you gather yourself outside of the classroom. leave it to your roommate and self-proclaimed best friend to describe the newest professor at your university as “hot,” when most of the faculty are pushing 70 and have the self-awareness of a brick. you honestly have no reason to be this nervous before lecture, but while it might be the start of a boring week two of the semester for your scholarly peers, it’s your first day.

it’s also just your luck to end up with the world’s most horrendous stomach bug right before the semester started. after a few heated email exchanges and a lot of heavy-lifting from minnie, your advisor and dean begrudgingly excused you from classes until you were feeling better.

and now here you are. you took the liberty of showing up to class just a few minutes early to try and talk to your professor to see what exactly you missed, and maybe find a seat. you assumed at this point everyone had their unofficial “official” seats, and you were praying that you could score one somewhere close to minnie.

whatever.

you shake your head like a dog to clear whatever doubts tumbling around in your skull. you’ve dealt with your share of mean professors before, and between forcing yourself to go to class and puking on the floor and dealing with whatever screaming gripe they’ll give you now, you had sagely decided the latter was the better option.

you brace yourself, and you tiptoe into the classroom.

the door squeaks open, and you shuffle inside, almost scared to see what’s on the other side of the door. the classroom is empty, unsurprisingly, and the fairly sized classroom zooms in on a central point: at the professor’s desk. a bag is slumped next to it, and some papers are placed into somewhat neat piles on the desk. a projector illuminates the blackboard behind with its default display.

“ah, welcome in! you’re early!”

you nearly jump out of your own skin at the energetic voice that greets you. standing a few paces from the desk is a young man, dressed crisply in a white button down and formal pants. your eyes crawl up his physique, trailing over the undone button at his throat and the sleeves tastefully rolled up to reveal his toned arms. they’re all classically handsome features, but nothing to write home about—nothing a quick swipe on tinder won’t satiate. 

you step a bit closer. “uh- good morning… i’m a student in your class. i think i emailed you about this a while back, but i was the one that got really sick last week and couldn’t come in.”

you braced yourself for the tirade that you were so used to, the mountain of homework and make up lectures that were bound to be awaiting you. god, you weren’t some kind of study freak, but no one ever likes starting the semester on the wrong foot, especially when that wrong foot means making up a week’s worth of classes all across the board. 

except the tirade never really comes. the man laughs, “so that’s who you are! gotcha, gotcha. well, i can say for sure that it’s much better to see you in person rather than the little yearbook picture i have on my class roster. um… minerva, was it? she said she’d fill you in on the notes that you’ve missed.”

you perk up. “yeah, minnie’s my roommate. and she’s helped me catch up the best she can.”

“awesome! it’s good to hear students helping each other. i mean, that’s what having classmates and roommates is all about anyway,” he continues. you can’t help but notice the charm in his voice, the light rhythm that makes it feel like he’s dancing with his words rather than rambling. “reminds me of my own roommate. tall guy. super awkward. only cared about volleyball. he had this god awful middle part that chased away any girl that remotely found him attractive.”

you fight back a small giggle. he was funny. “i’m glad to say that minnie isn’t anything like that. if anything, i’d say she’s the opposite…”

“oh?” your professor quickly quips. “bit of a boy magnet, is she? i’m just messing with you. but yeah, like i said, it’s lovely to finally meet you. if you have any troubles, don’t ever feel scared to reach out to me. i’d rather that i know what’s going on than to be left guessing, and i promise you whatever ‘stupid’ thing you’re worrying about, i’ve definitely done dumber in my own undergrad years. sound cool?”

your eyes trail upwards again, from the outline of his small waist and broad chest. your mind wanders momentarily, wondering what his workout routine must be. you gloss over his smooth face, marveling at the smooth skin and the sunshine-like smile that tickles his mouth. he really couldn’t be that much older than you, despite being a professor, and if you saw him on the streets, outside of this academic setting, you would have never guessed him to hold such a position of authority with a face this young. his eyes are just like yours, lively but with a tinge of timidness that invites you to probe a bit deeper, a bit closer. and his hair: it’s the most beautiful, sensual shade of sunset orange.

it isn’t like your breath is being taken away in one fell swoop. rather, it feels like he’s coaxing it from you, stealing it away subtly so that you’re left to lean in, fiending for it like a fish caught out of water. 

your gaze meets his, and you’re shoved back down to the correct plane of reality. fuck—you were not about to be caught staring like a creep at your professor on day one on all days…!

you nod shakily. “it’s nice to meet you too, professor-”

“-hinata,” he finishes, beaming even wider at you. “although, i told the class they can call me shoyo if they want to. i’m still pretty new to the whole teaching thing, so being called ‘professor’ feels a bit weird.”

“ah,” your voice drops in volume a tad, “i’m personally more comfortable with ‘professor’, so i’ll stick to that, i think. if it’s okay.”

he holds his hand up in mock surrender. “totally chill. whatever rocks your boat. if you don’t have any more questions, then make yourself comfortable. i think minnie tends to sit… over there, if you wanna get settled down. i know you already got the notes from her, but i promise you didn’t miss much in the first week, so don’t sweat anything.”

“thank you!” you breathe, getting ready to turn on your heel and march to the area professor hinata pointed out. something inside your rib cage trembles as if shocked with electricity, an anticipation for a breath of fresh air that only the beginning of a new semester could bring. you don’t know what to call it exactly. it isn’t quite excitement nor is it giddiness, but a liminal middle ground in between all of it where dread, the need for poise, and opportunity intermingle.

“hey.” 

you glance over your shoulder at the sound of your professor’s voice. your professor grins at you, and in that split second, at you alone. his eyes twinkle fondly.

your breath catches in the back of your throat. 

“let’s have a good semester together, you and i.” 

the brown of his irises feel as if they’re going to swallow you whole. 

you tear your eyes away. 

…

…

…

“sooooooooo,” minnie practically slams your dorm room’s door shut and corners you in the small excuse of a room that you call home while at school. her eyes are brimming with the mischievous glimmer that you know all too well, and she stares you down with the most expectant look on her face. “isn’t the new professor hot? exactly like i told you?”

you dump your bag on the ground, crawling into your bed and immediately finding your place under the sheets. it’s been a long first day for you, and despite feverishly praying to whatever divinity was up above that the rest of your professors would be as kind as professor hinata was, it looks like your calls went wholly unanswered.

you massage the slight ache in your shoulders. “i mean, yeah, he’s an attractive man, and i guess he’s pretty nice. but nothing super out of the ordinary.”

minnie sticks her tongue out, and she pretends to boo you. she huffs her chest out and plants her hands squarely on her hips, clearly not impressed by your review of the new eye candy she’s scoped out. “you’re no fun! i bet you’re only saying this because you’re still hung up about that pathetic scum of a human being you call an ex. c’mon! the best way to get over a shitty boy is to simply find another one!”

something inside your chest twinges with a dull ache, and you flop back onto your bed. “as much as i would love to share your optimism, i don’t think hopping from one boy to another will make me feel any less shitty about this breakup.”

“well, you gotta give me something to work with! and besides,” she sidles up to the side of your bed, and she leans in close to your face, as if she’s whispering a secret to you. “professor hinata isn’t a boy. he’s a man.”

you hold back the urge to throw a pillow at your roommate. you’re grateful that you have minnie to get you out of your own mind sometimes, but at the same time, she better be grateful that she has you to ground her to reality. 

“he’s our professor, minnie!” you pretend to scold her, but you fail at holding back an exasperated smile. “i’m all for you homie hopping through whatever ligma sigma dickma frat you’ve got your eyes on, but faculty are strictly off limits!”

“hey, be nice to me!” she laughs back, reaching over to poke at your cheeks. “doesn’t professor hinata look super young though? like he can’t be that far off from our age. that doesn’t make it that bad, does it?”

you shake your head. “i don’t care how old he is! pursuing your professor is a huge no-no!”

“ughhhhh! i’m trying to find the silver lining for you here! i’d much rather you drool over your hot professor than mope around in bed over your ex all day, okay? besides, it’s not every semester that we get to have a class together AND have a professor that doesn’t dress like fucking paddington,” she groans dramatically. she’s basically swooning at this point, acting as if the notion of a new, handsome romantic prospect for her to chase after and you being disinterested is the end of the world for her. you’re used to this song and dance by now, and you know she’s being theatrical just to get on your nerves. 

it’s funny to you. minnie has a talent for making you laugh over the stupidest things. you barely stifle back a giggle. “leave paddington out of this! the poor guy has done nothing wrong.”

“you get my point!”

you settle back into your cozy spot on your bed, snuggling into your sheets. you don’t want to open up the can of worms that catching up on homework would be just yet, and as fantastical as minnie’s romantic endeavors could be, they make for a good distraction from all the responsibilities you don’t want to face yet. she glances at you lovingly, her fingers drumming against your rackety bed frame.

“but you do think he’s hot, yeah?” she starts. you snort.

“i said i found him to be an attractive man but nothing special, minnie.” you chew over your words, and your eyes flicker up to the white expanse of your ceiling. your mind conjures up images of your new professor, and the relief you had felt when he had treated you so warmly.

he was such a sunny young man, and true to minnie’s guess, probably not that much older than you were. most definitely fresh out of school and figuring things out for himself, your quick interaction with him before class felt more like talking to a classmate or a teacher’s assistant at best, rather than a well-educated professor trying to test his craft and wrangle throngs of antsy college students. you liked talking to him. 

“i’d say he’s more charismatic than hot,” you offer up. minnie guffaws at your answer, and it’s her turn to roll her eyes.

“fine, fine, i get it! you’re not going to bite at whatever temptation i throw at you. that’s my roommate for you, always the toughest nut to crack,” she sighs and shakes her head at you as if you’re hopeless, but you know she means well. there’s nobody else in the world who would care for you like this, go this much out of her way to make sure you don’t feel alone. 

it’s almost enough to dispel the thoughts of your new professor from your mind. 

almost.

your heart softens around the edges when your mind pushes the image of him alone with you into your mind. just that one cadence, no longer than thirty seconds at most, when it was only the two of you in that empty classroom, with no other soul in the room to shield you from the incoming stranger wedging his way into your life—just you and him, caught in that suspended moment.

he’s still so beautiful in your memory. 

“-anyways,” minnie’s loud voice jostles you from your thoughts. heat rushes to your face in embarrassment, as if you had been caught doing something bad red-handed. she doesn’t seem to notice, and you choke back your guilt on losing track of yourself over your new professor in favor of whatever minnie’s spouting next. she purses her lips in thought. “i’m feeling kinda peckish, so what do you say about getting takeout for dinner?”

“we have food in our fridge,” you curtly remind her.

she groans in utter defeat, flopping onto you over the side of your bed. “you’re such a goody two shoes! what in the world will ever get you to break?”

…

…

…

WEEK 4

what in the world, indeed. 

you fidget listlessly inside professor hinata’s office. you’ve never seen him with glasses before, but a pair is perched slightly crooked on his nose as he clicks at the big monitors on his desk, probably pulling up whatever answer you scrawled out on the google form he had sent out a few days prior. you’ve always been a little antsy whenever meeting with a professor in general, but make it a mandatory one-on-one meeting with a certain professor that seems to make your heart act up and you’re vibrating so hard that you might as well cause an earthquake.

“so…,” he starts, skimming your response, “i really like what you wrote here. think you can tell me more about what you have planned for your final project?”

you lick your lips and swallow, and you’re suddenly aware of how dry your mouth is. “uh, yeah. i’m sure minnie’s already told you most of it-”

you stop dead in your tracks when professor hinata raises a hand, cutting you off. you pause, a prickle of dread swirling in your stomach.

he smiles apologetically. “sorry, i really don’t like interrupting students. but this is your final project, and i want to hear your ideas. not minnie’s. i know you wrote that you two want to do it as a pair, and that’s fine. but your ideas are just as valuable as yours are, and this time is reserved so i can pick at your brain, not hers.”

“r-right…,” you murmur. your heart flutters the slightest bit when you realize he’s paying special attention to you, but you shut any excitement down immediately. you were a goddamn adult and a college student. what kind of person would you be if you couldn’t hold it together around your professor, who 100% without a doubt saw you as a pupil? you mentally scold yourself for finding your instructor’s undivided attention appealing.

“like you said,” you start up, your voice still quiet, “i thought it’d be nice to do a joint research thing with minnie, and we wanted to focus on our campus’ experience with single versus shared dorm life. we figured something like that would be easy to find professional data for on a much larger scale, so we can compare and contrast with our own findings.”

he hums to himself. you keep your eyes fixed on a point on the wall behind him, not wanting your eyes to wander. it isn’t like professor hinata always comes to class impeccably dressed in a suit and tie or anything, but he also has a horrendously good sense of fashion that makes you instinctively shy away a bit. he’s dressed nicely today too: in a sweater with a white button down underneath that peeks over the collar of the sweater and what should be loose black pants that fit tightly around his thighs. you hate yourself for noticing these details. 

“that sounds like a pretty solid plan to me. i like how far you’re thinking ahead. research like this usually takes a lot of time and energy, so it’s good to have a vision for what you plan to do at the end. do you have any thoughts as to how you’re going to collect data? i suppose reaching out to housing would help with pure numbers, but for tackling the more social and emotional parts, you’ll need to do that yourself.” 

you’re keenly aware of when he glances towards you, his gaze burning into you like a magnifying glass held up to the sun. god, you shouldn’t be so on edge around him, and yet something about how casual he is with you and just how sweet he is with you makes you that much more stiff. you don’t dare meet his eyes.

maybe it’s that vulnerable intimate one-on-one that’s making you so much more aware of his presence, or maybe it’s the close confines of his office, but you know you’re going to waver if you make eye contact with him. 

“minnie and i wanted to conduct physical surveys. we were planning on contacting the different r.a.s of each housing building and asking the school for the information to off campus housing managers. that way we can distribute questions as far as we can,” you recited stately. “we even considered maybe putting in a raffle reward for responses, which would incentivize people to actually respond instead of ignoring it.”

professor hinata whistles. “i’m impressed. you two have really thoroughly thought all of this through! you never fail to impress me with how much attention to detail you put with your schoolwork. i wish all of my students were as diligent as you were sometimes.”

you bite down on your tongue, and it takes all of your willpower to not let some kind of fucked up glee swell inside your chest. “thank you, professor. the idea was originally minnie’s idea, but i was the one that really did most of the work ironing out the kinks.”

he laughs heartily. “i can imagine. between the two of you, i can tell that you’re the more responsible one by a long shot. don’t get me wrong: minnie’s a wonderful student. but at the end of the day, it’s still you cleaning up her messes, isn’t it?”

“yeah,” you bashfully admit. you can’t even count the number of times you’ve been the one to pick her up from her drunken escapades or be the one to force her into bed after holding her hair while she pukes. as much emotional stability as she gives you, she does need a tad bit of mothering. “but she’s still a great friend. i couldn’t ask for a better roommate. we might have opposite personalities, but we balance each other out perfectly, i think.”

“that’s good to hear! it’s always nice to know my students are getting along. especially quieter ones like you.” he leans forward in his seat, almost as if he’s whispering a secret to you. “us professors aren’t allowed to have favorites, but it’s human nature to always root a little for the well-behaved underdogs.”

you swallow a bit more harshly. there’s a lump in your throat. you really, really need to do something about whatever you feel towards your professor, because you know deep down that it’s wrong to keep wanting his attention like this. he’s being friendly and watching out for you, because he knows you’re the plain mouse-like student amongst a sea of wild young adults carving their way in the world. he’s only helping you, only complimenting you because he’s genuine and wants to see you do well, and you’re hoarding that attention and craving it like a man starved.

“she’s done a lot to get me where i am right now,” you admit, wanting to deflect. “i broke up with my now ex-boyfriend over the summer, and she did so much to make sure i was doing okay. i know you probably don’t care that much about messy college student drama, but… she has my back until the end.”

he raises an eyebrow. “i don’t mind. trust me, professors love hearing about student drama as much as the students do. also if it helps me get to know you better, then it doesn’t hurt, does it? having more information, no matter how silly, is better than knowing nothing about you at all.”

“i mean, it really is silly.” you’re trying very hard not to look him in the face. your eyes flit everywhere but, looking at your hands, the neckline of his sweater, the peeling wallpaper, anything. “i really liked that guy, and he ran off and cheated on me. i caught him red handed and did the right thing by confronting him and immediately breaking things off, but it’s not like you can wake up and decide that you don’t like someone anymore, no matter how awful he was to me.”

“i’m sorry that happened to you. it’s never fun to feel betrayed by someone you trusted, especially romantically.” he taps his fingers together.

you wave him off, shrugging. “i’m a lot better about it now! it hurts every now and then, but i’m choosing to focus on myself. i did nothing wrong, and it’s better for me to have cut him off than to turn a blind eye. and minnie’s always inviting me out to all sorts of things to take my mind off of it too.”

“that’s good. i wish i could say relationships get easier once you become an adult, but… there’s no cheat key to things like love. you gotta roll up your sleeves and do the nitty gritty work.” he feigns rolling his sleeves up, and he shakes his head. a blur of orange flickers like candle light in the corner of your eye. “even full grown adults do terrible things to each other. but just like you said, it makes you appreciate the bonds that stay true to you even through your hardships.”

“clearly,” you breathe. your voice is airy, almost strained. god, he was just so easy to spill your heart to. why couldn’t your ex be like this? professor hinata is thoughtful, intelligent, and emotionally mature. you need to step away, need to keep your distance, but even your attempts to deflect yourself away from the growing attachment you have to your instructor only ends with him expertly spinning things into his favor.

he chuckles to himself and leans back into his seat. “my mom would always say that it’s better to be single and free than to be miserable and tied down. besides, you’re only in college! the big wide world is waiting for you! i promise you, there are far better guys out there that can treat you the way you deserve to be treated. one failed college relationship isn’t going to doom you for the rest of your life, okay? take this one from your prof.”

“i’m sure.” 

you don’t doubt his words. the little resolve, the sliver of morality lingering inside your turmoiled brain, is crackling. it’s wrong to lean this forward towards your professor, to grasp and grip at the stray straws you can see, and yet, it feels so good. the heady silence that settles over the two of you is reminiscent of your first meeting with him, back to the moment when it was only you and him in the same way it is now. 

but things are different today. he knows more about you. you’ve learned to trust him. he’s always respected you, but it’s clear that he treats you like an adult on equal footing with him rather than your other professors who act as if you were born yesterday. he genuinely cares for you.

you subconsciously steel your stomach, and you sneak your eyes upwards from the hemline of his sweater. your gaze trickles cautiously over his broad chest and his neck, over the detail of his lips and nose, apple-like cheeks, before eventually meeting his inquisitive one. you unintentionally let out a choked sigh, like the wind is being squeezed out from your lungs.

his eyes light up and smile at you, as if to say “finally.” 

you can’t breathe.

you want to lean in; you want to close that impossible gap that tenses and pulses between the two of you. what kind of tension is this? something so forbidden, so magnetic, so undeniable yet unavailable for the taking… it feels like torture, to see your meek reflection staring back at you in the wide sclera and captivating brown irises of professor hinata’s eyes, and to be able to do nothing about it. this was the devastating nature of attraction, knowing that your personal insanity might amount to nothing the very instant you handed your fate over to another.

knock knock knock. 

you nearly splutter over your own inhale before jerking away back into your seat. a loud knocking noise repeats itself around the small confines of his office, and you’re left stunned, your heart hammering like a death toll inside your tense ribcage. you drop your face down to the floor, not daring to tear your eyes away from anywhere other than the anchoring, humiliating safety of the ground.

“ah, looks like our time is up. it seems like the next student is here,” professor hinata explains, much to your simultaneous dismay and relief. this isn’t a line you can cross, and yet you crossed some kind of personal boundary you set up for yourself right there when you snuck a glimpse into your professor’s eyes. 

“i-i’ll get going. thank you for the meeting,” you stammer, hurriedly grabbing your things and almost stumbling over your feet to get to the door. “i’ll keep working on my project- and uh- i’ll reach out to you if i have any questions…!”

you don’t know what kind of face he must be making, not when you don’t have the courage to look at him again. you sprint out of the door, away from the tense sparks that lay dying out into fumes between the two of you, surely a machination of your deprived brain. the hallway echoes with the sound of your footsteps as you half-run-half-speed-walk away from the office, wanting to go anywhere else as quickly as your clumsy feet would take you.

how could you be so stupid? not only do you end up blabbing about a bad breakup to him, revealing that you’re single, but you’re idiotic enough to think that his goodwill is something you can entertain into something further.

you hate to admit it.

you’re falling in love with your professor. 

…

…

…

WEEK 7

“you should go out with me this weekend.”

“i’ll think about it.”

“pleaseeeeeeee? i basically have my outfit picked out, and i’m dying to get a matching one for you! it’s been so long since you let me dress you up, and i’m itching to do something fun with you for the weekend! please? pretty please? with sprinkles and oreos and whipped cream and cherries on top?”

you groan, tempted to slam your head into your desk. “minnie, i said i’ll think about it. i’ve already seen the five million instagram dms you’ve sent me begging to go to whatever frat party is being thrown.”

“it’s sig-chi,” she reminds you, as if that’s the important part. some of the students next to you shoot the two of you odd glances, and you flash a weak smile, inwardly apologizing for minnie’s obliviousness when it came to blurting your business. it wasn’t like the entire class heard, thank god, but the noise levels weren’t high enough where you could act a bit more stealthily. you wish it was, even if it was only to spare you from whatever social embarrassment your mostly well-meaning roommate was bound to put you through.

you turn your attention back to the work you’re trying to get done. you’re grateful professor hinata gives you time in class to work on your final projects. after that fateful instance in office hours with him where you came face-to-face with your feelings, you haven’t been able to really act normally around your instructor. fearing for your own sanity, you’ve done everything you possibly can to avoid interacting with him one-on-one. it’s not like something like that is particularly difficult to do, but your heart still skips a beat and lodges itself in the back of your throat when he catches you in the hallway, greeting you with a light “good to see you!” before squeezing past you.  

your cheeks sting with heat when you think about him. you bite down only your tongue, willing for the dull pain to ground you. minnie hums absentmindedly next to you, completely unaware of the hell that she’s partially responsible for, and she taps away at her phone. 

“hey, hey, look at this! isn’t this outfit sooooo cute? it would look perfect on you! and if i order it today, it should get here in time for the sig-chi function!” she sticks her phone screen in your face, and you instinctively recoil away. 

your blood runs cold when you see the outfit she’s showing you. it’s a cute sparkly little number, except for the fact that it would cover barely anything if you were to put it on. one wrong move in it, and your whole chest and ass would be out for the world to see. and that’s not including the already exposed midriff it would entail. “it’s cute, but- i don’t know if i could wear something like that…”

“nonsense! i can see you perfectly in it! it’ll be awesome!” she quickly cuts you off. “a cute but still slutty outfit is key to every good party! i bet you’ll have all of the guys in there chasing after you in this. oh, the color will sooooo make your eyes pop, and i think i can really make your features shine with a bit of my make up too…”

you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole. embarrassment prickles like red-hot thorns underneath your face, and you try to grab at minnie’s phone. “minnie! you know i don’t wear things like that!”

“exactly! it’s all the more reason why! i’m trying to help you make your debut on the university dating scene,” the girl responds as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “you’ll be thanking me once you have a drop dead gorgeous six foot something basketball player wrapped around your little finger. trust me, i’m the expert in these kinds of things.”

“that’s not the point!” you hiss. ugh, you should really know better than to talk reason into her during one of her frenzied rants. you have absolutely zero intention of actually going out to one of these sleazy frat parties, let alone wear a skimpy outfit in order to bait a boy! you need time and patience to heal your broken heart, not… her wild schemes. you would rather bite off your tongue than go through whatever public humiliation ritual is involved with flirting at a frat party.

“ladies,” a deep yet sunny voice cuts through your annoyed inner monologue like a hot knife through butter, “i hope we’re actually getting work done. you wouldn’t be goofing off in my class, would you?”

your blood turns into ice for the second time within minutes, and when you peel your eyes up from your desk, your fear comes true when you see professor hinata standing there. his hands are on his hips, and despite his teasingly scolding tone, he’s sporting a bright smile.

you curse yourself inwardly, and you’re mentally scrambling to make an excuse.

“professor! look at this! wouldn’t this look so good on (y/n)?” minnie’s a step ahead of you. you audibly splutter over your breath, and you shove your head into your hands. she giggles as she sticks her phone in your professor’s face, and you’ve never been more mortified in your life.

professor hinata’s eyes widen at the more-lingerie-than-actual-clothing that’s being bombarded into his eyes, and he coughs, waving his hand. “woah, i’m not sure if i’m the right person to be asking that, minnie! why don’t we save the party talk for after class?”

she pretends to be exasperated, and she jokingly rolls her eyes. “ugh, you two are hopeless! you have to help me out here, professor. i’m trying to get (y/n) to loosen up a bit and have some fun with me! isn’t it true that you feel loads better when you do a bit of dolling up?”

“well, yes, but it looks like (y/n) here isn’t too keen on that idea. take it easy on the party going, and let’s focus more on your final project. trust me when i say your deadlines will be creeping up on you fast,” he easily brushes minnie off. she smiles brightly and nods, and only then does she finally turn to her computer and start compiling her research.

you want lightning to strike you down and burn you to a crisp. you peel your head out of your hands, and your weary eyes meet your professor’s. he grins understandingly at you, and he reaches forward to squeeze your shoulder empathetically.

“...!”

you grit your teeth, your eyes widening like a deer caught in headlights as electricity courses through your body. the skin where his hand just was feels like it had been burned, thrown completely off guard by the sudden contact.

“are you doing okay?” he whispers. his voice is soft and quiet, coaxing you out of your panicked state. it’s a voice reserved solely for you, one that only you can hear, and your blood is being weighed down by figurative iron when your heart flutters. “take it easy now. don’t let her goad you into doing something you don’t want to do.”

your lips feel clumsy. “she means well. i’m fine. she talks big, but she won’t actually do anything without my express permission.”

he’s more of a danger to you than minnie will ever be. you wish you had the courage or brainlessness to blurt something like that, but the bitter revelation stays curled up into the flesh of your still tongue, burning and scalding you like the unspoken confession it is.

“that’s good to hear. take care of yourself though. if she keeps fretting over you, you’ll make me worry too, you hear?” his nose crinkles a little when he squeezes your shoulder again. did he always have freckles? or are you only noticing them now that he’s up close and you have nowhere else to focus except for his face? you hate it, hate this tension, hate the way you can’t control yourself despite knowing better.

you hang your head, forcibly tearing your eyes away from your handsome professor. you lie through your teeth. “i’ll be okay, professor.”

…

…

…

“ohhhhh, fuck…!”

shoyo double, triple, quadruple-checked to make sure that his office door was firmly locked around him. it would be the literal death of his academic career if someone were to catch him doing what he was about to do, and he wasn’t that keen on throwing aside his future just yet. 

he had made a beeline for his office the moment class let out. it took every bone in his body, every last bit of willpower he has ever known in his entire life to keep his sunny facade up and to make sure no one would see his mask slip. he can’t afford it, and yet he’s still gambling too riskily. he’s cutting it too close to safety to relax fully, but he can’t stop.

his cock twitches and strains in his pants, begging for his attention. he leans his back against the firm wooden door, his breathing shallowing as lewd images flash behind his eyes. fuck—he really should know how to control himself better than this, actually listen to the angel in his brain telling him that he should really quit being so attracted to his students.

correction: student. 

correction again: you.

his fingers unconsciously unbuckle his belt, and his pants drop down to his ankles. he grits his teeth, a strangled breath escaping his clenched teeth as he palms the prominent bulge in his boxers. it was one thing to ride out his delusions on his own, savoring the forbidden dregs of toeing the line between professionalism and a taboo romance. 

you played the part so well too. like a frightened doe that would run away if he moved too quickly, you were good at keeping your walls up and fending off his quiet advances enough. the push and pull had him reeling: part of him wanting him to do better and to act properly as a new professor should, and another wondering how much cuter you’d be bent over his desk and your pretty cunt stuffed full of his cock.

“...shit-,” he hisses as his hands slip underneath his boxers. it only takes a few strokes for his cock to fully get hard, and the cool air of the office hits his sensitive skin like a flurry of ice. heat courses through his body, and he feels awful.

he shouldn’t be doing this. he shouldn’t be getting aroused by his student and jerking off in his office, but here he was. the last straw was seeing your roommate pitch that damn slutty outfit. you looked so innocent and so sweet, clearly not a party animal, but how often did your roommate swing you around? did you get down and wild if pushed far enough? shit, was your good girl thing just a ruse to get brownie points with him?

“fuck- fuuuuck…!” he starts stroking himself, palm swiping from base to tip, squeezing his cockhead a hair. dull pleasure swirls deep inside of his stomach, and he moves his hips into his palm, the friction downright addictive.

he imagines you in that outfit, your tits and ass basically out for the world to see. maybe you’d let your friend drag you out to her silly party. maybe you’d act shy there too, skirting around the sidelines of the dance room, sipping nervously on your drink. maybe the alcohol would make your head buzz a bit and you’d get a bit bolder. maybe you’d let some douchey frat bro feel you up, that dumb bastard not knowing how good he has it by getting your attention.

shoyo groans under his breath. god, you shouldn’t be wasting your energy and time on stupid college boys. all they would do is exploit you and leave you for dead, even though you were clearly the best thing to walk into their lives. 

he thumbs over his weeping tip, moaning throatily as he presses into his slit. his chest rises and falls, the electric feeling making his knees go weak. touching himself never felt this good. nothing came close to that buzzing high of being deprived of you.

his mind doesn’t stop wandering. raunchy thoughts of you dancing floods his brain. he imagines you grinding up against him, your soft ass pressing up against his crotch. he’d buck his hips against yours, let the heat mount as his hands wander over your body, that skimpy outfit of you doing nothing to protect you from him. you’d glance back at him, feeling his strong chest up on your back, the muscles of his arms tensing when you pull him flush against you. your eyes would have that drunken haze to them, intoxicated off of whatever was in your cup and getting down and dirty with your professor. 

it reminds him of his own idiotic undergraduate days, ones he thought he matured past when he became a proper working adult. clearly not, if the thought of dancing with you and feeling you up has him furiously fisting his hard cock. 

he needs to be inside you. he doesn’t want to feel his hand on his cock anymore. he wants to ruin that pristine image you have. he wants to see you crying and moaning, going from his stellar unassuming pupil to some cock crazed slut, begging for him to fuck you harder, to fuck you deeper, completely at his mercy. he wants to see your clothes in tatters with nothing to shield you from his almost animalistic lust, for you to see him as a proper grown man who wants to pamper you as much as he wants to ruin you rather than some stuffy professor.

it’s downright problematic how much he needs you. it’s more than just wanting to fuck you. no, he’s a gentleman. he wants you to want him, even if it’s only to ease the guilt nagging at his heart. you’re too smart for your own good, and yet when you’re surrounded by all these bad apples nipping at your heels and waiting for you to stumble, it’s no wonder that you’ve become so holed in.

you simply need someone who’ll treat you right. who’ll make you shine. who’ll be a proper lover, someone that can actually step up to that mantle.

“hah- god fucking dammit…! fuck- fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck- shit…! fucking hell, god- fuck!” his grip on his cock tightens, and he thinks his body is going to break. the dopamine buzz in his mind is almost explosive, and he knows he can’t control himself for much longer. he's close, so close, egged onto the edge by fantasizing about the thought of his student in a revealing party outfit. 

what kind of scum did that make him? if his mind was any clearer, he might know, but it isn’t. all that his sex-riddled brain can make out is how badly he wants your body. he craves the weird sick satisfaction of being the one to stretch out your sweet hole with his girthy length, to fill every little bit of your womb up with pumps of his hot cum, to pleasure you so thoroughly that he’ll ruin sex for the rest of your life—unless it’s with him, of course.

you flicker behind his eyes again. your body trembles against his as he pretends he’s thrusting into you rather than his pre-cum drenched hand. your cunt quivers and tightens around him, and your face is stained with your tears. mascara runs down your cheeks, and your lipstick is smeared messily all over your mouth. your legs shake around his hips as he fucks into you, tip easily squeezing and abusing that sweet spot deep inside your body.

“what a pretty girl.” he’d praise you, take his sweet time making sure you get all the loving you deserve. “how could someone as pretty as you stay out of my sight for so long?”

the image of you in his mind bucks your hips back against him, and the pleasure that explodes around his cock has him weak in the knees. he’s so close, so close to giving you his seed, to marking you as his. he’s humping into you desperately, wanting you to feel that impeccable stretch, pierced and plowed by him, driven to madness by his infatuation.

“i’m here! i’m yours!” you pant out. you’re starstruck. smitten. everything he’s wanted.

“-kgh…!” 

warmth overtakes his entire body, and strong ropes of cum escape from him. he grits his teeth, clenching his jaw and willing himself to keep his moans to himself. he’s dead meat if he gets caught masturbating to the thought of his student in his office. cum spills out all over his office floor and coats his hands, spilling and spilling like the pent up frustration bottled away in his heart. he furiously strokes himself through his orgasm, and sparks fly in his brain, pleasure coursing through his veins like one giant shockwave.

he throws his head back, gasping for air as his cock sputters, the last drops of virile cum leaking out and covering his fingers. his cock slowly softens in his hand, and he sucks in deep inhales, the cool air soothing the heat enveloping his entire body. 

shoyo’s mind feels fuzzy and distant, like he’s been shoved out of this plane of existence temporarily. his limbs are weak, and his abs tense and coil in on itself as he forces himself to steady his breathing. his vision is blurred slightly around the edges, but the world emerges back into focus with each passing inhale and exhale.

he hasn’t even fully come down from his high, but he knows that the lack of guilt he’s feeling is wrong. he should feel bad, he should feel dirty, he should feel like he’s done something criminal. what professor jerks off to his student and doesn’t feel any sort of post-nut clarity? he swallows heavily, but the knot in his throat that should be there is nowhere to be found.

he doesn’t want to give his growing interest in you any more attention than it needs. the last thing he should be doing is fanning the flames, and just now, he fed the monster when he should be depriving it, starving it.

his gaze crests downwards, towards the pristine streaks of pearly cum all over his hand and the floor. he knows he’s beyond saving when he bitterly wishes all of it could have gone inside of you and your sweet pussy instead of being wasted on nothing.

“...let’s clean up,” he whispers to no one in particular. he hates the apathy he feels, reaching almost robotically for the kleenex he kept on his desk, not a single prick of guilt or wrongdoing stirring in his body as he moves clumsily through the aftershocks of his orgasm to rid the proof that he had even touched himself to the thought of you to begin with. you don’t have to know that he ever jerked off to you or the fact that his desire for you grows and festers like a rotten wound inside of his heart. because that is what it is in the eyes of everything that is moral and good: rotten.

but what you don’t know can’t kill you.

…

…

…

WEEK 10

you had dreaded the next mandatory meeting with professor hinata for a while now. you had done such a good job of keeping a low profile for a while now, only ever addressing your instructor when it was absolutely necessary and whatever interactions you needed so that he wouldn’t pick up on the fact that you were purposefully avoiding him.

you had also done a good job at keeping minnie’s eagerness at bay. your final project for professor hinata’s class was a very handy excuse to avoid going out to parties with her, and crunching the data also did an exceptional job at keeping you busy instead of moping about in your room alone.

you’d think at this point in the semester you’d have quit being so hung up over your ex and your general failure of a love life, but seeing that your romantic prospect was a crush on your professor that you were actively trying to get over for your own sake, clearly things weren’t looking great for you.

but this was something you couldn’t escape. you sit on your hands to keep yourself from more or less bolting out of professor hinata’s office. his eyes are glued to the monitors on his desk in good professor-like fashion, scanning over the work you’ve handed in for him to check.

you’ve done this song and dance before. you’ve been stuck in his office before, too scared to make eye contact with your professor out of fear as to your heart betraying you. you have to keep a firm grip on yourself, and you look at your professor but make it a point not to look at his face.

“man, i know i say this every time i look over your progress, but you really do outdo yourself. you deserve a pat on the back,” he remarks, smiling proudly as he leans back in his seat. “you’re definitely in a good place for where we are in the semester, and as long as you keep at it, i’d say you’ll easily get an a for your final grade.”

“thank you,” you quietly state. he’s dressed simply today, in a black turtleneck and jeans. it makes his bright orange hair stand out that much more, and you try with all your might not to stare too hard at the obvious outlines of his toned pecs and waist straining against the fabric of the sweater.

he looks good today too. you want to eat your own fist and curl up into a ball to cry. it was like for every step forward your determination took to keep yourself in check, professor hinata threw a screwball at you to make you take two steps back.

you wish things would go as smoothly as it did the last time you were here, vulnerable to his scrutiny and left with your own flimsy defenses. the same thick tension hangs in the air again, and you pray that you won’t act out of place.

“so,” his voice cuts through your thoughts, like it always does. he knows how to catch you right off guard, wedging himself right into the split-second crack in your judgment. “all i’ve got to say is that i’m excited to see your actual final all put together. your findings are going to be really interesting, and i’m also looking forward to comparing what you find against whatever conclusions minnie draws from the same data. i don’t mean to get so personal again, but the two of you are so different that i wonder if your findings will be that stark too.”

you inhale, fixing your eyes on a spot behind him as if it was ritual to ground yourself that way. “i won’t spoil too much of her stuff, but she also has some pretty cool ideas. she’s told me some things that i wouldn’t have thought to consider in her part of the project, so… just something to get you more hyped!”

he chuckles, the low cadence of his voice making your heart flutter a beat. “i’ll take your word for it. i hope she’s treating you well. i know that you know your bond with her better than i ever will, but i really hope her energetic personality isn’t too overbearing for you. you come to me if you have any issues, okay?”

“i appreciate it. but i’m fine, really. she’s a lot, i know, but she means it out of love,” you reply methodically. this isn’t the first time someone has scrutinized your relationship with her, often misconstruing her enthusiasm and your more quiet personality to her mistreating you. sure, you two don’t see eye-to-eye about everything, but you wouldn’t hold her so close if she wasn’t someone who would see things through thick and thin for you. 

he nods. “alright, i trust you. but it never hurts to be vigilant. take it from someone with a bit more life experience than you do: people can still hurt you and claim that it’s from a place of love. this isn’t to say that minnie’s a bad person, but you and i have something special. i want you to stay safe.”

something lodges in the back of your throat. your mind swirls dangerously, and you can’t think. special? you and him have something special? you almost laugh unconsciously; it’s like despite all the work you did to keep your heart under lock and key, he’s determined to burrow his way in there. 

you hate how easily you crumble. all it took him was one well timed sentence with that stupidly charming voice of his, and it made weeks on weeks of self-imposed deprivation disappear like dust.

“don’t worry, i’ve been doing a lot of work to take care of myself. do you remember that ex i told you about? after him, i did a lot of work reevaluating the people closest to me and whether or not i trusted them blindly,” you hesitate, pursing your lips and sucking your cheeks in a little. you comb over your next thoughts carefully. talking with professor hinata is a mental game of its own, and you feel like you’re playing against an impossible opponent. “there’s… definitely a more eloquent way for me to have phrased all of that, but… you get the point.”

“i do. god, you poor thing. how could anyone hurt someone like you like he did? i know i’m biased as your professor, but even then… you’re so bright and kind. he really fumbled. that’s my two cents.” his shoulders shake a bit as he laughs, the sound coming from somewhere deep inside of his chest. your stomach feels queasy, and every part of your body wants to swoon. your attraction to him is trouble. it’s fatal. 

you dig your nails into the flesh of your palms. the stinging pain does little to bring you back to your good conscience, but it’s something to focus on other than the hazy lapses in judgment that dance inside your mind. “it’s all growing pains. this is what being an adult means, doesn’t it? you said so yourself last time we talked. there’s bound to be someone better out there in the world.”

you don’t need to look at him to know that he’s looking at you. the office feels constricting and so much smaller than you remember it to be, as if the walls are actively moving in closer and keeping you trapped in there with your deathly charismatic professor. 

“yes.” his voice drops a bit in volume, and it sounds almost intimate. “yes, i did say that.”

something possesses you. it creeps in quietly, like a drop of ink dispersed into a glass of clear water. no, you shouldn’t say that; whatever was plaguing you had taken root months ago. whatever you were trying to save was just a remnant of the ruin in your head. you swallow thickly, almost like you were trying to press your logic, your goodness, your moral conscience back down into nothingness.

you lift your face. his sweet eyes are there to greet you, and they light up when you meet his gaze. his eyes are warm and welcoming, and you’re instantly entranced. he’s beautiful, insanely beautiful, and the brown color has you floored. you want to reach out and cup his face, and you want to just stare into his eyes forever. it’s like he’s a siren that’s called out to you specifically, tempting you to inch closer and to let him take you away, entranced forever. your lips start quivering. you can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t reflect and let out one last pathetic struggle to cling to what you know to be right.

maybe things would have been different then. maybe if you tried harder, you’d have picked the morally correct thing. maybe you’d walk out of professor hinata’s office unscathed, your relationship tense but still at the boundary it should be at, and you’d graduate and put your crush behind you as nothing more than a silly infatuation. 

but you don’t. some repressed part of your mind slips. the words tumble from your mouth before you can stop yourself.

“i wish it could be you.”

you instantly throw your hands over your mouth, your eyes widening in shock. regret flashes through your entire being, and your face burns with shame. professor hinata gasps softly, but he doesn’t say anything.

“sorry-,” you fumble, your stomach twisting into horrid knots. panic shoots through your brain, and you’re screaming internally at yourself. you want to say something, anything, apologize profusely, but the gears in your head won’t turn. your entire mental processes are overrun with nothing but sheer panic, and you feel like your brain has turned into a piece of useless metal. “i-i’m sorry…! i didn’t mean it like that- i wasn’t thinking… i just- i don’t know what came over me.”

“hey, hey, calm down.” he reaches forward, leaning over his desk, and a firm hand plants itself on your knee. you almost jerk away from him, like his touch would hurt you, and your professor can see the wild, feral fear in your eyes.

it’s one thing to deal with your illicit feelings on your own, but to accidentally blurt them and make them known to him? to professor hinata? the very object of your forbidden affections?

“it’s okay. it’s okay. i’m being serious, it’s alright. there’s no need to freak out.” his words cut into the blinding flurry of thoughts in your head. “talk to me, here. you good?”

you nod frantically, forcing a deep breath in through your nose. “i’m fine. i’m okay, i promise. i… please ignore what i just said.”

he retracts his hand. he swallows, and you can see his adam’s apple bob underneath the neckline of his turtleneck sweater. you should know better than to look into his eyes again, not when every time looking into his face spelled trouble for you, but when you stare up at him helplessly, he looks nothing like the bubbly, carefree professor you knew.

his pupils are blown wide open, and there’s a kind of intensity settling inside of his eyes that you’ve never seen before. his lips are parted just slightly, like he’s about to say something but the words are caught on the tip of his tongue. a shiver tiptoes down your spine. he looks like a man haunted, the once cordial candlelight-esque brown of his irises running big and reckless like a wildfire. 

you don’t recognize this side of him, but you don’t dislike it either. you lick your lips quickly, suddenly aware of your extremely dry mouth.

he lets out a deep exhale through his nose. “...i need you to listen to me.”

“i am,” you squeak back. your mind flashes back to minnie, to your superstar queen bee of a roommate. how would she navigate something like this? knowing her, she would navigate this gracefully. she could probably play it off as a joke and laugh around with professor hinata. she could bat her eyelashes and charm him, maybe pass this off as a bit of awkward flirting and walk away scot free. you’ve never had the same social grace that she manages to pull off so effortlessly. 

“i… i apologize if i’m reading too much in between the lines.” he sounds strained, as if he’s holding a part of him back. his eyes are locked onto you, honed in as if you’ll skirt away out of his sight. “but i don’t think either of us can ignore whatever it is we have going on. i want to make myself clear here. i am your professor, and you are my student. the mature, responsible thing for me to do as your instructor is to ignore your remark and to move on. if that is what you want, then i will let you walk out of my office. we can pretend nothing happened. everything that happened here stays between us.”

you pause, and you wring your hands together. you know that that’s the choice you should take. that your relegated role in this song and dance is to be the good kid and to never stray away from your place as a nobody bookworm with good grades and nothing special. and yet your mouth moves, “...is there another option?”

he clenches his jaw. he has to be at his limit, just as much as you are. you see the edge in his eyes, flaring like sparks, waiting for you to touch and him to come away burned. you don’t care. you’re hurtling straight at the point of no return, and you’re burning up, beautiful and flaming and waiting to be consumed into nothingness.

“i… we take care of this whole thing. but i want to make sure you want this as much as i do. i hope you understand the gravity of what this means for both of us. it’s very, very wrong for a teacher and a student to be in love with each other.” professor hinata takes a big breath in, and he shoves his hand through the wild tufts of his orange hair. “but if you are insistent on pursuing this route with me, so long as you’re willing to accept your responsibility, then…” 

he stops, and he whispers the last part, barely and only loud enough for your ears, “...i can’t say that i can refuse you.”

your hands curl into decisive fists in your lap. so this is where you are. these are the conditions that life has mercilessly thrown at your feet. your heart and brain are at odds with each other. your mind screams at you to think of your future, that your life would certainly be ruined if anyone would find out that you had an illicit relationship with your professor. and what about him? it would spell a certain social death for him too if he were to be found out.

but your heart begs. you’ve ignored its cries for basically your entire life now, always picking the expected thing, pushing down your own wants in exchange for the security and the safety of a quiet life. this is one time in your life that you’ve truly wanted something, truly yearned for it with your entire existence. how is it fair to deny this from yourself? haven’t you given enough up? you gave up sociability when making friends with minnie, gave up a chance at normalcy when breaking up with your ex, and now love with professor hinata?

“i know there’s a right answer, professor hinata,” you hang your head. uneasiness claws at your ribcage, but the desire bubbling up inside of you hurts even more. “but i’m sorry. i don’t think i have it in me to be good anymore.”

he waits a beat, and the silence hangs above you like the weight of a million sins. the laugh he lets out is airy, relieved. “i was hoping you’d say that. well… come here. let me have you.”

you don’t know how you don’t trip over your own feet as you get up. you walk over to him as if in a trance, looking down at your professor with shaking eyes. he looks so confident as he grins up at you, legs spread slightly in that old office chair of his, every part of him just as inviting and tempting as the day you first laid eyes on him.

you’re practically crawling into his lap, and his strong arms are around you. his mouth is instantly on yours, and you gasp, the feeling of soft lips consuming you entirely. this wasn’t your first kiss by a long shot, but it was your first kiss with him. and god, it was everything those stupid romance movies made a kiss out to be: electric, addictive, leaving you dizzy and giddy and reeling in his embrace.

you’re glad he’s there to hold you. you place your hands shyly on his chest, warmth pooling in your stomach when you can feel the strong tension of his muscles. you never realized you were this downright touch starved, basically melting into putty in his hands as he kisses you over and over again, the hushed sounds of your lips locked together and breathless pants filling the room. 

your head spins. this must be the charm of an experienced lover. his touches mold into yours, adjusting to you and making you feel as if you can put your trust wholly into him. his tongue laps at your lips, and you let him in, let him swirl his tongue deep into your mouth. you feel so full on the inside, your chest swelling with everything you’re repressed coming out now in droves. his tongue moves around yours, and your ears drink up the lewd sounds of your french kissing. 

his hands grasp at you firmly, memorizing your touch and the way your body feels under his palms. his thick thighs make for the perfect seat, and you cling to him as he kisses you. making out with him feels like an eternity but also as if no time has passed at all, whisked away into the special place meant solely for lovers, sincerely lost in your own world with him. he feels so good around you and under your skin, even better than the fleeting fantasies you might allow yourself to have.

a strand of saliva connects the two of you when he pulls away from you finally. your chest heaves as you gulp down oxygen, your fingertips shaking as you curl them into the soft fabric of his sweater. 

“you…,” he gasps, unable to tear his eyes away from your clearly shaken form, “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do that to you.”

heat nestles deep inside your stomach. it’s wicked and possessive, but you want to be special to him. and now you know that you are, your desire to have more of him is insatiable. something throbs and pulses within your core, and it’s pitiful just how weak you are to him after a handful of well-executed kisses. fuck having any kind of stupid romance with some dumb college boy your age: none of them could even dream of leaving you this stunned and your body itching for literally anything more.

you grasp at him. “please- please, more- kiss me again… i need it- i need more-”

“-shhh, i’ve got you, pretty.” he moves in so close to your face, his lips only a breath away from yours. you’ve never had someone kiss you so carnally before, his desire emanating off of him in thick waves. you’re probably no better, begging for your hot professor to make out more with you as if his tongue wasn’t down your throat mere seconds ago and as if it isn’t his spit that’s coating your lips thickly. 

it feels right. there’s no other way for you to describe him kissing you again. his lips move so gently against yours and yet brims with a kind of brutish need. it’s like he doesn’t want to scare you away but can barely contain himself, not when he has you right where he wants you. you don’t mind. you want him to be greedy, and you want him to take you wholly. 

you’re so happy, and you love it when his tongue is in your mouth, guiding your clumsy movements. it’s lewd kissing you’ve only seen couples do through the drunken haze of some seedy frat basement during a crazy party or in a raunchy porn video, and you get it. it finally clicks inside your head why people go crazy for these kinds of things, why people lose their minds when they’re unable to fully get a grasp over their own sexual needs. it’s like an awakening for you, as if some monster that had been caged in your heart is now breaking free of its restraints.

you moan shamelessly into professor hinata’s mouth. you need more. just kissing isn’t enough, only having his tongue in your mouth isn’t enough. the pounding between your hips won’t go away, and if anything, it’s getting worse with each passing second. he’s turning you on, and your body refuses to listen to you. but why should you hold back? he’s right there for you, and you’re willing to give yourself to him without any room for regret.

“please-,” you sound so needy, so desperate, so unlike any part of the removed personality you kept around your professor. “touch me more… i need you, professor-”

“-don’t call me that,” he whispers against your mouth. “shoyo. call me shoyo. i’m not your professor right now.”

“shoyo,” the name tastes like sticky sweet honey against your mouth, “touch me, shoyo.”

his hands snake down to your waist, and he looks at you expectantly as his fingertips slip under your shirt. you shudder when his fingertips press firmly into your skin and flesh, like a reminder of what you’re getting yourself into. “good girl. do you want me to go all the way with you right now?”

“yes! god, please, yes- shoyo, take me.” you bury your head into the crook of his neck. his calming scent floods your nose, and you think you’re going into heat. “i’ve never needed someone more in my life.”

something hard presses up against your crotch. he grunts, “that’s a dangerous thing to say to me.”

you let him lift your shirt away from your body, coaxing it gently over your head before tossing it somewhere onto his office floor. your body heats up, blood pumping under your skin. you prickle slightly against the cold office air, and you bite down a bit on your tongue. his hands crawl up the expanse of your stomach and up to your chest, and he looks at you as if he’s been starved.

“god, you drive me crazy,” he breathes. your voice catches somewhere in the back of your throat. you can feel the warmth of his palms hovering over your breasts, the thin fabric of your bra doing nothing to protect you from him. “to think you’ve been hiding from me this entire time, right under my nose…”

you gasp when he gropes you through your bra, his hands molding against your breasts. you fill his palms out so easily, and you grind down against his lap, sparks flying inside of your mind. you grip onto him again, breathing needily against the crook of his neck as he plays with your chest, letting you adjust to the feeling of his heavy hands on your body. 

he touches you so sweetly and so beautifully. not like the clumsy horny ways boys your age would, but with confidence and reverence, like he purposefully wants to take his time with you. you whimper when his fingers hook into the cups of your bra, and you let him yank it down to fully free your chest. 

your pussy throbs when his hands are on your bare breasts. he massages the soft flesh, chuckling softly whenever he hears you keen and choke out a breath into his neck. his fingers find your nipples quickly, and heat flares under your cheeks and inside your gut when he pinches at them gently, your body reacting faster to his touch than your mind can.

you grind down onto his lap, feeling his hard bulge in between your thighs. you need more, need something inside you. 

he grits his teeth when he feels you trying to hump his clothed cock. “careful, sweetheart. i’m trying to take my time with you.”

his hands move to your back, fully undoing your bra and letting it drop forgotten to the floor. you don’t care. you want him all over your body. you want his calloused hands all over your tits, pinching and teasing your nipples, filling out his hands with your breasts, like your body was made to match his. 

“i know-,” you sound shaky. you are shaky, barely holding yourself together. you clench your eyes shut as he plays with your tits again. pleasure surges downwards every time he plays with your sensitive nipples, rubbing his fingertips into them or just letting the skin-to-skin contact get to your head. “i just- i can’t- i can’t control myself anymore, shoyo-”

“i got you, i got you,” he laughs. if only you could know his own madness, the insanity that runs rampant in his mind knowing that he can have you in any way he wants. “shit, and i thought i’d take it slow. be a good gentleman for you. clearly that isn’t making the cut.”

you let out a small shriek as he lifts you from his lap, and the next thing you know, you’re slumped over his desk. your bare chest is against the cold wood of his workspace, and he hovers above your back, your ass against his crotch. you whimper into his desk, and your breath fogs up against the polished wood.

your cunt clenches painfully around nothing as he grinds his hips into your ass, his erection rubbing all over your thighs and butt. your saliva pools inside your mouth when you hear him groan and buck his hips into you, mimicking the motions of penetrative sex as he drinks up the friction. his hands hold firmly at your hips and waist, anchoring himself to your body.

he doesn’t need to do much. if you can already feel him this prominently, just how big was his dick? 

“i-i can feel so much of you already.” you glance back at him. the thrums of arousal inside you are almost unbearable. you don’t feel like yourself, only like a husk of person fiending for release. 

“yeah?” his grip on you tightens slightly, and he peers down at you. “fuck- have you had sex before? is this your first time?”

“no, it isn’t- i’ve had sex before- with a few guys on campus and mostly with my ex…,” you trail off, not wanting to think about it any further. “it doesn’t matter. it doesn’t count.”

he chuckles, shaking his head at your small joke. “can you feel how hard i am? how big i am?”

“yes,” you exhale. you want him inside you. you want him to take your pants off already and stick his cock inside your cunt. you want him to make a mess out of your insides, to take the weeks of pent up lust and to let it loose. you want your pussy to be ravaged by him, for him to not stop until you’re a wreck underneath him. “so big… i want it so bad…”

“am i bigger than your ex?” it’s a question posed dangerously, a blade wrapped in cloth. you dip your face down so that your forehead touches the wood. you nod shakily, glad that you have his desk to hold onto for support so that your knees don’t give out. 

he smirks. the ends of his mouth curl upwards into a cruel smile. it’s the satisfaction of a predator right as it’s about to sink its teeth into its prey, relishing the sadistic thrill of knowing that his influence, that his power remains on top.

“forget everything about that boy,” he spits the last word, as if it’s something bitter. “you feel me? feel this cock? yeah, i know you do. this is how big a real man’s cock is.”

you might as well have had the wind knocked out of you. his hands make their way to your pants, and you move with him, letting them fall by your ankles. your panties follow suit, and you’re left shivering with anticipation against his desk, fully naked. nothing can protect you from his wandering eyes now, and while you can’t see him, you can feel his gaze boring into your exposed cunt. 

you can feel how wet you are, your imagination doing the most in making you feel like you were going to overheat while making out with him. your slick drips out of your hole, and your cunt weeps, begging for something to fill you up and get rid of that incessant ache in your belly.

“turn over,” he commands you. any sense of the warm professor you used to shirk around is gone, replaced by an intensity entirely foreign to you. you comply, and you gasp when shoyo sinks down to his knees. his hands are on your knees, and he pries your legs apart to slot himself. you’re fully laying on his desk at this point, and his face is mere inches away from your hole.

“i-...” you don’t know what to say. you feel like you’re going to choke on your own breath, embarrassment at having a man so close to your pussy threatening to consume you whole. 

shoyo, on the other hand, is utterly entranced. the sight of your bare cunt has him bewitched. his cock throbs painfully inside of his pants. the little tease he got from you trying to grind down on him and then rubbing himself against your ass has done nothing but wet his appetite, and he knows how much he’s been waiting painstakingly for this moment.

your voice dies out in the back of your throat when he grabs your thighs, and before you know it, his mouth is on your cunt. he kisses your pussy, and you nearly buck your hips into his mouth. his tongue laps in between your lower lips sensually, coating his mouth in as much of your juices as he can. his grip on you is firm, making sure that you can’t wiggle away from him. he wants you to feel every single second of him eating you out, make sure you feel his tongue against every part of your hole.

his tongue captures your clit, swirling slowly around the sensitive bud. you clench your eyes shut, and the first shockwaves of pleasure shoot straight to your brain. “ah- shoyo- fuck-!”

he keeps kissing and sucking at your clit, determined to shower you with so much attention. he takes his time. he flicks the tip of his tongue against the bud, leaving you recoiling against the cool material of his desk, and he presses the broad of his tongue against it, letting you grind down how you want into his mouth. he mimics your movements, and you’re left gasping and mewling when he moves down. teasing your clit turns into broad licks up your slit, and your thighs shake and threaten to close around his head if it weren’t for his firm grip on you.

his tongue circles your hole, and he smirks into you when he can feel you quiver and clench around him. he’s snaking himself all over your cunt, lavishing each part of your pussy with a good dosage of love and spit. every time he drags his tongue against your slit, threatening to slip into your hole but not quite, you’re left reeling in the aftermath. you need something inside you, anything. you’re so horrendously turned on, and as much as the clitoral stimulation has you seeing stars, you need more.

“shoyo…” god, he loves it when you moan out his name. he just can’t get enough of the way the syllables roll off of your tongue, and you choke out his name, elongated the sound and clinging to his name as if he’s the only thing you’ve ever known. 

your pussy continues to drool for him, and he’s smacking his lips, drinking up every drop of your juices as if he can’t get enough. it’s a perfect reminder of how much he wants you. he thinks you’re perfect, a gift sent down from whatever divinity might be out there, hand-crafted to take his love and to love him in return. you taste heavenly on his tongue, your slick coating his mouth thickly. with each swallow, it’s like you’re becoming a part of him, and it makes him dizzy.

you tremble under his touch. he keeps capturing your clit the way you like it best. he teases you, lets you feel pleasure. the pleasured hums of his voice vibrate against your clit, constantly stimulated by his tongue and lips. the throngs of arousal inside your gut keep mounting, growing, twisting and coiling it on itself, keeling to be freed, to be let loose so you can cum all over his mouth as if you’ve lost all control of your body.

“feels good-,” your breathing shakes as you reach down, grabbing a fistful of his bright orange hair. the man moans in such a depraved manner against you, and you clench painfully, your pussy feeling as if it’s contorting into a way physically impossible from how sheerly aroused you are. “make me cum, please! ‘m so close- wanna cum- wanna cum in your mouth, shoyo…! you’re making me feel so good!”

“yeah?” he detaches himself momentarily. he licks his lips and swallows, chest heaving at your sweet taste overwhelming all of his senses. his brain is screaming for him to fuck you, but he doesn’t want to. he wants to see you feel good from just his mouth first, to coax one orgasm out of you so that your nerves are properly awakened. that would make fucking your pussy out on his cock so much more worthwhile. “am i making you feel good, pretty girl? enough to beg for it?”

you nod feverishly, even though you should know that he can’t see you. your drenched pussy speaks enough for itself. he’s too good at this, the experience under his belt shining through. there’s no stupid boy your age that would even think of doing you a courtesy like eating you out until you’re shaking, and here’s shoyo, eagerly lapping at your cunt without you even needing to ask. 

“cumming- gonna cum- please, please, fuck…! your tongue feels so good- love it so much when you lick at me like that…,” you whimper. your back arches against the desk, and your body twitches, wanting to ride his tongue and make a mess all over his mouth. shoyo doesn’t stop his relentless movements, and he continues to suck at your clit. 

arousal curls and unfurls like a pulse deep inside your stomach. you’re teetering on the edge, and you feel like you’re going crazy. your mind is turning into jelly, your wildest fantasies about your professor coming true right before your eyes, and your pussy can’t take everything happening to you. you shut your eyes again, gritting your teeth and bracing yourself for the orgasm that you’re sure is going to slam into you like a brick wall.

his tongue slithers expertly against your drenched cunt, and he presses a sticky kiss to your clit. your stomach curls inward at the intimate touch, with him pleasuring you as if it's his given duty as your lover, and that’s all it takes.

“shoyo!” you cry out, your thighs nearly wrenching themselves out of his hands. “i’m cumming- fuck! fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck-...! fuck me, fuck me, please! ah- i’m cumming…!”

he keeps on pressing his mouth all over your pussy as you cum on his mouth. red hot pleasure floods your entire body, sweeping you away from head to toe, and your thighs quiver like mad. your body feels so hot, so overwhelmed by a pleasure you’ve never had before, and your vision spins. you can’t think, not when every inch of your body has been tossed into overdrive so effortlessly by him, and your inner walls twist achingly. 

you wish it was his cock you were cumming on. you’re breathless and succumbing to how good it feels to have your hole ravished by his mouth, and he eats you out through your orgasm. he’s determined to swallow up every drop of your slick, and it’s not until you’re whimpering again and pushing his forehead back weakly that he detaches himself from between your legs.

“shit, you taste so fucking sweet,” shoyo groans. he sounds almost disappointed that you pushed him off of you, your slit tingling and desperate for something bigger. the lower half of his face is shiny with your juices and spit mingling together, and he licks his lips, making sure not to let a single drop escape him. “fuck- i could eat you out all day if you’d let me. pretty girl’s got a pretty pussy too.”

your hole flutters in excitement at his praise. heat and embarrassment at the sudden intimacy flickers underneath your face, and your head is still buzzing, not fully done with your sexual high. your chest rises and falls as you rest on his desk, splayed out for him to admire as he gets up from his knees and undoes pants. you can hear the shuffling of fabric and metal as he takes off his belt and pants. your mouth goes dry as you think about his cock and how big it felt when the two of you were grinding and humping each other for a split second, and now you’re finally getting him to fuck you on it.

he lets out a low, throaty moan as he takes the last of his clothing off, and his cock is nice and hard, drops of pearly pre-cum dripping from his tip. he’s aroused that it hurts, but there’s something about seeing you still recoiling from your orgasm, the rush of pride he gets knowing that he got you off using just his mouth, makes the pain of waiting a bit longer to fuck you so much more worth it.

“how are you feeling? you doing okay?” he asks you. he grabs his cock, stroking himself a few times from base to tip, his thumb sliding over his sensitive slit to spread his pre-cum all over himself. you nod wordlessly, starting to come back down to your plane of reality as you let him slide himself in between your legs again.

you freeze when you feel his cock against your slit, and he rubs himself up and down in between your lower lips. the dull pangs of arousal are bubbling up in your gut once more, and your slick is mixing with his pre-cum to coat his cock in a makeshift kind of lube.

“d-do you have any condoms…?” you eke out. it’s his bare dick against your body right now, and as intoxicating as the thought of taking him raw and letting him stuff every inch of your womb with his cum is, you still have to think straight.

he grabs at your hips, bringing himself flush against your body. a moan catches in the back of your throat when his tip grazes against your sensitive clit, and he chuckles to himself when he sees you twitch. “not at the moment. i’ll take care of you. can you trust me?”

there’s a lump in your throat, and some deeply dead part of you sobs out that you should be responsible. but you don’t care, not when you’re this close to finally having him inside you, not when he promises to take responsibility for you. you move your head, unable to fully meet his eyes, and you nod your head yes.

“good girl,” he laughs sweetly. “you ready for me?”

“yes! please, i want you inside me… want you to fuck me…,” you whine, your head lolling onto the desk underneath you. your pussy clenches at the thought of his raw bare cock rubbing against your insides, your walls clinging to every inch of his thick cock, and you’re so, so ready to take him.

he grips the base of his cock, and he lines himself up. he watches, enraptured, as your hole pulses around his cockhead. you groan needily as he fucks his tip in and out of you, just to watch your pussy cling to him, wanting to pull him in fully. you’re just about to whine and complain when he finally pushes himself in, and your breathing dies out in your chest as your walls stretches out to adjust to him being inside you.

“...fuck-! ah- you’re so big-,” your voice immediately starts slurring as he pushes past the resistance. it burns yet it feels deathly euphoric to have something stretching you out like that, to feel every bit of your pussy being invaded and stuffed out onto shoyo’s girthy cock. you’re coaxing him in effortlessly, and his fingers curl into the flesh of your waist and hips as he tries to ground himself.

he sucks in a harsh inhale through his gritted teeth, his eyebrows furrowing. you’re so tight and wet and downright heavenly wrapped around his length. he can’t stop looking between your legs, right where the two of you are joined together for the first time, but you’re squeezing and fluttering around him just right even though all he did was put it in. it’s taking all of his concentration not to waver and lose himself in the feeling. 

jerking off desperately by himself doesn’t even come close to how good your pussy feels. he could stay like this forever, feeling your velvety walls pulse around him, wanting to pull his cock in even further until he swears his tip is kissing the entrance to your womb. he takes in a deep breath, and he does his best to clear his head so he can start fucking you properly. 

“you’re so fucking tight… shit, did you want my cock that badly?” he manages out shakily. “fuck, it’s like your pussy’s milking me already, sweetheart.”

“mhm… it’s so, so big…,” you murmur, dazed. “never- never had cock like this before- you’re filling me up… feels like you’re in my stomach.”

“yeah? does it feel good?” he’s waiting for you to give him the all clear. your face is scrunched up, and as desperate as he is to start fucking into you like an animal, he knows better than to be a ruffian. your pleasure always comes first. that’s what real men do.

you nod weakly for what feels like the millionth time. your nerves are on fire, your previous orgasm only accentuating how much you can feel him pressed against you. his cock rubs just right against your sensitive walls, and you can’t imagine what actually having him thrusting into you is going to do to your body. “yes- so good- i’m gonna lose my mind, shoyo…”

“good answer.” he reaches over to move a strand of your hair away from your face. “i’m gonna start moving, okay? if something hurts or doesn’t feel right, you tell me right away. i’m here to make you feel good, and nothing else.”

your heart skips a beat. in a sea of fuckboys and idiot college boys that couldn’t care less about your well-being, someone like him feels less like a real person and more like a character straight from a fairy tale. “okay- you can fuck me- i want you to fuck me.”

he draws his hips back and thrusts slowly into you. you gasp, acutely aware of the sensation deep inside of you. your pussy revels at how he rubs against you, gripping onto his cock for dear life as he fucks his length in and out of you. it’s such a painfully slow pace, but you savor the feeling, savor the new stimulus of having your professor’s cock buried deep inside you. you want to commit to memory, because it’s unlike anything you’ve ever had before.

heat flares back up inside your belly again, settling and slithering in repeated coils between your hips. your vision blurs once more, and arousal creeps back into your mind, threatening to overtake every single one of your conscious thoughts. “faster, shoyo- wanna feel more of you- you’re torturing me…!”

“sorry- i can’t help it,” he laughs bitterly, his voice hushed and under his breath. “can you blame me for being obsessed with you? fuck- you’re so tight, hugging me like this… it’s like you were made to take me.”

your stomach curls in on itself at the sweet praise. you hate how easily he toys with your heart, how easily he can make you swoon and fall for him all over again, leaving you dancing and squirming right underneath the palm of his hand. literally. you swallow deeply, and it feels like there’s no inch of your body that the unbearable heat hasn’t spread to. 

“faster, please- i need you so bad!” you sob, nearing your limit. cumming from his tongue was only an appetizer, and you’re hungry for more. you’ve starved yourself long enough, and his slow pace isn’t doing any favors for you. you roll your head left and right on his desk, unable to control yourself.

“you want it? prove it to me.” his voice drops a few notes, and your cunt unconsciously clenches at how dark his words sound. it’s yet another potent reminder of the man buried inside of you right now, a real man who’s determined to make you his, prince and criminal, craved and craving, dreamy and filthy all at once. “look me in the eye then. look me dead on as i fuck you.”

you let out a loud moan. his words are fucking dirty, and when he rolls his hips into you, drinking up the excruciatingly addictive way your pussy clings to his dick, you think your body is actually going to give out on you. it’s not like he’s asking for you to do anything obscene or impossible, but there’s something so disgustingly erotic and intimate about him asking you to look him straight in his face—in his eyes—as he makes love to you.

the desk is warm underneath your body, all warmed up thanks to your body heat. it’s become your subconscious refuge, taking all of your thrashing as he had his way with you, and you don’t want to think about the sure mess you’re bound to leave in your wake. your breathing trembles as you forcibly turn your face towards his, ripping your wavering gaze away from the safety of whatever else you were staring at.

your eyes meet his, and he smiles at you adoringly. there’s no more running away from him, nowhere to escape to, your eyes locked together and dancing in his pupils. you’re rendered breathless again at the vibrant color, like your own life is being squeezed from between your lips. you can’t move, and your chest feels like it’s about to cave in on itself, your ribs giving out and your heart melting into a puddle of useless muscle and putty. but this time, strangely enough, you welcome the helpless feeling. he’s got you wrapped around his pinky finger, and you finally realize that you never stood a chance. 

that very first day, in that fatefully empty classroom, when you first met eyes with him, you were a fucking goner. you always were. always had been. and it was all his fault, all professor hinata’s fault. 

all hinata shoyo’s fault. 

“good girl.” he looks at you in a way only a lover would. his eyes soften around the edges and crinkles up as he grins. “don’t ever look away from me.”

“i won’t,” you promise. it’s the last thing you could dream of doing. not when you want it so badly, and not when he’s asking you verbatim. how could you deny him of the very thing he’s asking you to do? especially when it’s something that you’ve always been mustering up the courage to do? this is your big leap forward, your chance to prove to yourself that you can change.

he leans forward, and he lets you wrap your arms around his neck. you refuse to drop your gaze from his face, admiring every small detail of his features and letting yourself drown fully in the wide expanses of his eyes. he presses one last romantic kiss to your mouth, and that’s the last warning you get, the last bit of sweetness and gentleness you get. 

he draws his hips back, and he slams himself back into you roughly. you choke out a small moan, pleasure flooding your head. he doesn’t give you any time to recover from the recoil before he’s thrusting wildly back into you again. your hole is already slick and dripping wet from his teasing and your previous climax, and it makes it all the more easy for him to slide his length in and out of you, pace picking up speed and leaving you crying out as your surprise quickly morphs into electric pleasure.

“shit- so fucking tight- god, you’re going to kill me,” he grunts. you mewl and moan incoherently, clinging to him for dear life as he fucks into you over and over again. his tip prods against your deepest parts, and surges of pleasure climb all over your nerves. his hips slam against yours, and his balls slap against the curve of your ass. lewd, wet lovemaking noises echo throughout the small office, and it echoes even louder against your ears. 

it feels good, it feels so good. you never knew pleasure like this was possible, that it even existed. you thought you knew everything there was to sex already, but clearly not, if shoyo has you practically melting in his arms, your limbs numb and surrendering wholly to how good he’s making you feel. your walls keep fluttering around him, and every thrust has you crying out. 

“fuck- you feel so good- shoyo- shoyo, i’m losing my mind…!” you gasp. your nails dig into his back, and you claw at him like a feral cat. your thighs quiver around his hips, but he doesn’t let up his brutal pace. with each roll of his hips, it feels like he’s knocking the wind out of you. he’s determined to fuck you stupid, and it’s working. your grip on reality is slipping fast, with the throbbing pleasure in your head taking precedence over everything.

“go crazy for me then. you feel me inside you, don’t you? good. then you can feel firsthand how fucking crazy you make me.” he grabs your hips, and he angles them ever-so-slightly before ramming into you. you grit your teeth as a tense cry escapes from you.

the new angle has you seeing stars. you’re scratching at his back, your insides lurching and reeling and being stirred up like wild. “you’re so deep… so deep inside me! nnmgh…! you’re gonna make me cum so fast- make me cum again-“

“shit, already? am i fucking you that good?” his stomach is doing flips. you’re a sight for sore eyes, refusing to look away from him as if your life depended on it. his abs strain against him as he enjoys the experience of having sex with you, sex with the student that’s been dancing around him forever. you’re splayed out like a piece of art underneath him: all sweaty, breasts bouncing, legs spread with your soft cunt eagerly taking every inch of him.

your foreheads are basically touching when you nod your head. “yes! no one’s ever made me feel this good before- never had cock like yours-“

he almost laughs. oh, he’s bet you’ve never had anyone like him. what would your ex, your past flings know about pleasing women? all he wanted was to make you go crazy like this. he wants to sink you deep into pleasure, and he wants to make it so that you don’t ever think about other men after he’s done with you. he wants you in your entirety. he can’t do halfway.

“i told you already,” he purrs. his words drip off of his tongue like sticky syrup. “it’s because you’re having sex with a man this time. not with a boy. a real, grown man. someone that can take care of you. someone that can treat you right.”

it’s hard to think. he speeds up, leaving you fighting to keep your eyes open. the intense look in shoyo’s eyes are nothing like your own fucked out look, but at the same time, you’re sure the intoxicated gleam in his is the same as yours. is it love or desire that connects you two?

“most importantly…” his fingers dig into your flesh, securing your hips in place and leaving you at his mercy. you can feel your juices leaking out, coating your ass and making wet sounds whenever his hips smash into yours. he cranes his head, and his lips are almost on top of yours, threatening to close the gap and brush his lips across yours. “someone that can actually fuck you.”

oh fuck. you don’t stand a fucking chance against him. all of the sensations are rapidly racking up in your body, and with how deep he’s thrusting into you, you can barely hold onto yourself. you’re gonna cum soon again, you just know it. you feel the tightness inside your belly, and with how effectively he’s seducing you, whispering all kinds of lewd things and making sure that you keep your eyes locked on him while fucking you, you have nowhere to run away.

“i can’t take it- so rough- can’t take much more-,” you whimper. your mind is going blank, and all that you can think of is him. his body feels heavy and good on top of you, and having you scratch his back out of pleasure only spurs him on. he can feel you slipping and losing control of yourself, and he rocks you close to himself. he wonders if you can feel his heartbeat hammering in his chest, huffing short breaths as he keeps up his steady yet brutal pace.

he looks at you, and a smirk dangles off of his face. “yes, you can. you can take it. i know you can. you’ll be good for me, won’t you? let me make you feel good.”

your breathing hitches. it’s taking all of your mental strength not to topple over the edge right now. everything’s rushing too fast to your head right now, and all of your nerves are standing on edge, enthusiastically lapping up the pure euphoria coursing through your veins. but you want to make shoyo happy, you want to cum together with him, and as much as he said this lovemaking session was about you, you want to be able to match the pace he set.

“for you- just for you-,” you struggle to get the words out, the final syllables slurring together into a slight babble. so much for your usually well-put together, prudent academic facade. any trace of the well-trained, well-behaved student is long gone, replaced by a dirty, senseless, corrupted, and lascivious soul that lives and dies for shoyo’s love. “wanna be good- wanna be good only for you…”

“good. you’re mine. all mine,” he murmurs. the pleasure is sharp and dull all at once, all consuming and delicate, sinking you down into the murky waves inside the recesses of your mind only to drag you back to the surface, leaving you shuddering and grasping as if you had been drowned for real. shoyo likes it. he adores the reactions he gets out of you.

this is a kind of pleasure only he can give you. you’ve never had this with anyone else before, and he’ll make it so that you can’t find it from anyone else, not unless it’s with him. these faces you’re making, twisting in ecstasy and crying out with a voice like a songbird, are for him to enjoy only. they’re exclusive to him, only meant for his eyes, and he consumes it, fiending for more.

“shoyo- can’t- ‘t’s too good- i’m going crazy…!” you strain to breathe, your chest feeling inhumanly tight. parts of your brain light up like wired lights, blooming and flickering. you’re terribly close, and you know this one is going to take you whole and blow out any sense of being in your body. “shoyo- shoyo…”

“fucking christ- if you moan my name like that… you’ll make me want to do horrible things to you. so much more fucking worse than what i’m doing to you right now, sweetheart. this is just the start right here.” something pricks at your hips, and he digs his nails into your hips. he never thought himself to be such a possessive man, but he can’t deny the insanity that’s taken root in his brain for weeks now. it does something to him, to have his dick inside of you but to also hear you calling for him. him, him specifically, his name, emerging from your mouth as if he’s someone you revere. maybe at one point you did, but his yearning to have you turned him into something monstrous and all too human.

but perhaps that same madness overtook you and that was what brought the two of you together. shoyo finds it funny: the idea of something as sacred as love growing from something so depraved. and yet he’s fascinated by it, fascinated by the possibility that you’re no better than him, that your respect for him may just as easily be swapped for a kind of convenience to quell your own heart.

he doesn’t know what it all means. now isn’t the time for him to get philosophical. he’s balls-deep inside the pretty student he’s been pining over, and he’s so close to getting you to cum. wouldn’t that be a better reward than anything else he’s carefully built up? years of self preservation and swallowing down his personal desires for what’s “best” for his future be damned, he wants you. he wants you, he wants, he wants you.

you wonder if this is the end of your rope. you’re so close, so near the edge, and you’re clenching so desperately around his cock. you’re eclipsed entirely by the sight of your frightened and frantic reflection in his wide eyes, and you barely recognize yourself. so this is what you look like when you’re being mercilessly railed by your hot professor. your mouth is agape as you moan out for the male on top of you, face flushed and sweat beading your forehead like some kind of crown. 

“gonna cum- gonna cum! shoyo- just a bit more-” your tongue feels heavy in your mouth. your body isn’t yours at this point, having given up in exchange for the fire that burns your core, the snakes inside your belly hissing and twisting and pulsing. “i’m cumming- gonna cum- i can’t hold back anymore-!!”

“go ahead,” he whispers. his mouth itches to kiss you, to swallow up your wounded gasps. he wants to feel your body go slack again like he had done once before, to push you into that wonderful place where nothing and everything was real at once. he’s sure your body’s overrun with complex sensations and pure euphoria, and he loves watching you turn into a shell of yourself. “cum on my cock, pretty girl. you’ll be mine, won’t you?”

you barely nod your head, and shoyo’s drawing his hips back and snapping them back into you at a particularly rough angle. you tense up underneath him, back arching and limbs going stiff. your eyes widen, gaze still connected with him, and your body fully gives out.

“sh- shoyo…!” your voice is shrill as you sob out one final moan, and your orgasm grips the entirety of your body. it feels good, it aches, it throbs, and it demands so much of you. your velvety walls clamp down on his thick cock like a vice, milking him and clinging to him, and your climax refuses to give shoyo a chance to breathe. he digs his ankles into the ground and keeps thrusting wildly into you, wanting to keep the flare swallowing you up going for a bit longer. he grits his teeth as you squirm underneath him, and you can barely keep your eyes open. you want to clench them shut and throw your head back so bad, but whatever little control you have remaining on your conscious keeps them open, just for him.

you’re fighting against the currents swirling and whirlpooling inside your brain. whatever heat was bottled up inside your body rushes out, and you’re cumming all over shoyo’s girth. he’s keeping you stretched out, and your stomach feels like it’s going to cave in on itself. it’s nothing but pure bliss, the kind that makes you feel as if you’re floating, and you’re rendered breathless, each inhale precious and fleeting and almost incognizant. your vision swims, and tears settle on your waterline, just threatening to topple over. your field of sight is blurry, and yet even amongst all of the chaos, you can make out the dapples of brown in shoyo’s eyes, forever in tandem with him as if he were a planet in orbit around your sun.

you’re gasping for air, finally having gotten the release you had been chasing for what felt like an eternity. shoyo breathes heavily and raggedly, as if he had run a marathon, and he’s barely holding on himself. your insides are fucking massaging him, stroking his cock all over, squeezing and hugging and rubbing all up against his sensitive length.

“shit- fuck-,” he chokes out. fuck- he didn’t expect that seeing you cum would take so much out of him. his mind is teetering, and his muscles strain against him, his abs prominent. you’re refusing to let go of him, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can genuinely hold on for. he should be responsible, at least try to pick up the pieces of the mess that you two made, and pull out, cum into a napkin or a trash can or his hand or literally anywhere inside of your sweet cunt, but whatever resolve inside his chest whimpers as if he’s killing it when the thought brushes against his mind.

he wants to cum inside you. he has to. he needs to go that extra step, cement himself physically into you, promise to take care of you again and again for whatever happens next. he’s a real lover, someone who’ll take all of your brokenness and insecurity and fear and make them dissolve and melt away as if it were sugar. he’s sure they’d be equally as sweet to, so long as it came from you.

“god- fuck- take me- i’ll take care of you- take care of anything that happens next- fuck- just… just stay with me-,” he breathes out, body shaking. a cry catches in the back of your throat when he fucks himself in as deep as he can go, his cockhead pressing right up against your cervix. he buries himself into you, and he leans forward, capturing your lips in one last deep kiss, tongue swirling in your mouth and filling up your senses entirely with him.

your moans are muffled by him when you feel him cum deep inside you. something hot and heavy floods your cunt, pumping into you in generous spurts. it’s warm, and his cock takes on a second pulse inside of you, like a heartbeat as semen trickles into your womb and all through your cunt. your body feels hot, every inch of your pussy drenched and coated with shoyo’s cum. a few stray drops escape from you, but with him pressing his body flush against you and his cock still stuffed inside your cunt, most of the cum remains plugged inside you as he gasps for air, his high overtaking him.

“fuck… fu-uck,” his voice is gruff and airy. “god- you keep fucking milking me- shit, i came inside too- oh god…”

he nearly collapses on top of you, and his chest is on yours. the two of you lay there, breathing deeply and just enjoying the post-sex warmth of each others’ bodies. you’re still buzzing slightly, your head heavy as if you had just woken up from a long nap, but regular feeling is starting to seep back into your limbs. your body is pulling itself out from the haze, and while exhausted and quite literally fucked out of your mind, you’re regaining control over yourself as the minutes pass.

you admire shoyo’s form, the beautiful curves of muscle all over his back and shoulders, the lines on his face that could come only with age. it’s too early for you to worry, too early to really know the true consequences of your actions, and yet, there’s something bittersweet at the tip of your tongue when you look down adoringly at shoyo. morally, you know that this can’t continue. the best course of action you could have taken was to not fuck him, but now that you’ve gone and crossed that bridge, the next best thing you can do is to nip this in the bud and to avoid making a habit of this.

but you already know that you’re not strong enough to do that. you can’t go back, not when you’ve had a taste of everything you’ve already wanted.

you wrap your arms around shoyo a bit tighter, and you hold him closer to your heart. he buries his head into the crook of your neck, the shaky eye contact that you had kept up with him now broken. he inhales deeply and takes in your scent, and you wordlessly both celebrate and mourn everything that had built up and broken in between you and the man you had pined after for so long.

“...i’ll go buy some plan b for you.” he’s the first to break the silence. “there are some napkins in my office that i can clean you up with. you stay put. i… i lost control of myself there, and i don’t want you to strain yourself. do you think you can eat and drink a bit?”

your mind is nowhere near as clear as you’d want it to be, but you rasp out quietly, “yeah. i’m okay.”

“do you have any classes after this? fuck- i lost track of time too. i can write you a note and email whatever professor you have after me. i’m sorry- i really shouldn’t have gotten that carried away.” shoyo peels himself off of your body, and a whimper of protest dies out in your mouth. 

“i don’t have any classes. i’m basically free for the rest of the day, so you don’t need to worry about it. i- uh- i appreciate it though…” your arms feel cold and empty without him, and he maneuvers himself to grab a wad of napkins to position underneath your ass to catch the cum dripping out of you as he drags his now soft cock out.

you simultaneously feel empty and full all at once. his cum still undoubtedly lingers inside you, but without him physically in you, you feel as if something big has been sucked out of your soul. your stream of consciousness meanders to the idea of soulmates, and if this is what it must feel like.

you don’t know how to breach any further though. he’s immediately flipped his professional switch back on, cleaning both of you up without any further words, and you don’t think it’s proper though to keep demanding more from him. in his eyes, this might be nothing more than a bad lapse in judgment and not something he wants to keep pursuing in the same way you want to. 

a lump forms in your throat at the thought, and your heart shakes. your heart physically hurts. it aches and throbs as if it were torn apart, the stringy sinews and muscles begging for at least a bone to be thrown your way.

you hang your head, swallowing your despair back down the best you can. it’s not your place. it’s not your place.

he hands you an unopened water bottle, and you mutter a solemn word of thanks before cracking the lid and gulping a few mouthfuls down. he’s bent over and collecting all of your clothes, mixed together with him, and despite still being naked in front of him, you don’t feel any shame at all. this whole charade shouldn’t have felt as good and guiltless as it does, and you don’t want this to leave on the melancholy note that it is.

but as shoyo slips his sweater back on over his head and adjusts his hair, it’s hard not to mistake his professionalism for distance. you’re aware that you aren’t proper lovers, no boyfriend-girlfriend relationship, but what kind of sane human doesn’t yearn for a sense of connection and reassurance after something so intimate? all you want is to cuddle with him for a few minutes longer, have him smile sheepishly up at you as he peppers kisses onto your face, his big calloused hands holding you firmly.

you set the water bottle down. reality is never as clear cut nor as easy as fantasy is, and at this point, that should be a revelation you’ve carved into your heart by now. you steel your resolve the best you can, the one thing you’ve learned better than any other lesson your painful years of adulthood have taught you, and you reach for your own clothes.

you look messy with your clothes haphazardly thrown on and trepidation clinging like a fog to your psyche, and you’re ready to basically skitter out of his office as you always do and keep your head down until the semester ends. then you’ll be out of his hair and hopefully this would be nothing more than another minor heartbreak for you to get past. 

“where are you going? if you don’t mind staying put for a little bit longer, i’ll go fetch the plan b.” a hand lands on your shoulder as you prepare to leave, and you stop dead in your tracks. you look over, and shoyo looks down at you as if he’s confused. 

you hold your breath. you know better than to hope, and yet the flash of emotion that flies across your chest is undeniable. “you… don’t want me to go?”

his face immediately morphs into a deep frown, and his brows furrow. he looks horrified, as if you had picked out the worst words for the situation and spat them at his feet. “no! of course not. who do you think i am? why would i kick you out right after having sex? after harping on for so long about treating you right? gosh, you think so lowly of me. i was only cleaning up! here, there should be some snacks i keep stashed away in the second drawer over there. i’ll be zippity quick with the plan b run, i promise. get something in your tummy in the meantime, and then we can chat.”

chat? the word dangles above you like a loaded bullet. not everything is some kind of fucked up mental game, but it stuns you how he constantly manages to stay a step ahead you in everything.

you want to ask about what. about the future state of your relationship? about how both of your lives are going to undoubtedly be marked in a different way now because of this? about how the rest of the semester is going to go? about how you might never be able to muster the courage to show your face to society again, depending on how the conversation proceeds? there’s a whole slew of questions waiting to be asked, but when he beams at you, his smile more boyish and endearing than anything else, it’s like he simply melts away all of your anxieties.

it’s downright unfair, the sheer effect he has on you. but you don’t want it to stop, ever. you want him to continue confusing you and amazing you, leaving you questioning yourself and all of your worldviews. you don’t understand him, not one bit, and yet it feels like you know too much, used too much of your wiles to force him into showing his hand and leave both of you at some kind of stalemate. 

“what comes after that then?” that’s all you manage to blurt out amidst all of your fluctuating emotions. you don’t want him to leave, don’t want the beautiful man to slip away from your fingers after you only just got to keep him, no matter how short or necessary it might be. you’re not thinking straight, but what part of any of this came from logical thinking anyway? good behavior only got you so far, and good behavior isn’t going to keep him.

he grins, a smile that could rival sunshine even through your internalized storm. “that’s easy. you said you were free, yeah? i drop you off at home for a little bit so you can properly get cleaned up and get a fresh change of clothes. then i pick you up again, surprise you with a big bouquet of roses, and i buy you a nice dinner. dessert and drinks included. then i drop you back off home, and if you’re down for it, we do that a few times. then, y’know… i ask you out properly on our third or fourth date.”

your heart flutters in your chest. your heart has always been a caged bird, the last part of yourself you could never fully tame. stuffing it in a constricted box and ignoring it has gotten you only so far, and shoyo presses the key to the cage into your hand and coaxes you into unlocking and opening up the impenetrable door. your eyes widen slightly. it’s too early to get your hopes up again, but at the same time, when he’s stating his interest and desire to make something serious out of this, to actually take you on as a proper girlfriend and not as a one time fling, to go the whole nine yards and make it the romantic experience you’ve always wanted deep deep down, you think it’s only fair that you let yourself have this.

after years and years of repression, you’re getting your first reprieve. the first sign of spring after what felt like an unending winter, the long awaited gulp of water after wallowing in the murky depths, the fabled light at the end of the tunnel, a reminder that everything truly isn’t as hopeless as your twisted mind likes to make it, that you’re just as deserving of goodness and love and rightfulness as much as those around you, no matter how vehemently you once denied it against the very wishes of your heart. you’re done stifling your own desires, and while it won’t be something you fix overnight, you’re sure it’s shoyo that drew out those first steps.

“i don’t like ruining the surprise like this, but… i’m sure you don’t mind. still, do me a favor and act surprised when i do bring you flowers and take you out on a dinner date, okay?” he winks at you, laughing to himself. he looks so happy with himself, truly giddy like a boy waiting to ask his crush out. you don’t know how he can go in between being the cool professor you fell for and the man that charmed you so effortlessly, but you aren’t complaining. you want to acquaint yourself with every side there is to shoyo and to fall deeply in love with each and every part of him you discover.

you smile back softly in return. you play the innocent card, and you tilt your head slightly in a show of fake confusion. “don’t worry. date? what date? aren’t you running out to get me just plan b?”

“atta girl. you always catch on quickly. it’s that smart mind of yours,” he laughs again, louder this time. his voice reminds you of bells ringing in the morning sun. each syllable feels like he’s thawing you out, and it’s something to be venerated with every part of your soul. he approaches you to steal a kiss from your lips, and the touch is so sweet and gone too quickly. you want another, but you know he’ll be back soon and you’ll have as many kisses as you’d like, as many as he’d let you have.

he cups your face with one hand, and his thumb rubs over the apple of your cheek. it’s such a gentle touch, and yet it makes you feel weak in the knees, like your body feels a sense of magnetic attraction to him that makes you want him to hold you and nothing else. he leans down ever so slightly, enough so that he can look at you directly in your eyes again.

you don’t think you’ll ever get used to the way he leaves you breathless when he gazes at you, the intense look always leaving you stunned and glued in your place, the same split second that proved to be the first taste of the forbidden fruit. something bristles and hangs in the air, like electricity, and this time, you recognize it to be the anticipation of getting something you’ve wanted, like an excitement gripping at your throat, and the happiness of your heart beating not just for you but for someone else, for the very first time.

shoyo grins at you, at you alone. his eyes twinkle fondly.

“i love you,” he whispers without any trace of doubt in his voice.

your lips move, “i love you too, shoyo.”

you don’t blink. you won’t blink so long as he’s looking at you.

and you swear to never look away from those beautiful, beautiful eyes.

author's note: i owe @thomae a million thank yous for letting me write her idea! thank you thank you thank you so much for letting me bounce all of my ideas off of you and bothering you incessantly about this fic!! it ended up getting a lot longer than i originally intended (×﹏×) but regardless, i hope everyone enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!! (´ ε ` )♡ please stay safe in the new year, and if you enjoyed my writing, you can show your appreciation by donating to the humanitarian cause in gaza!

[manifesting-minerva]

Ghosts & Banshees (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader) - Part 3

Author's Note: Part 3 is here! Enjoy it! It gets better after this. - Minerva 🐦‍⬛

Summary: Ghost and Y/N get close during one of their training session. But how close is close enough for Simon?

Warnings: Language, physical combat, innuendos

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Y/N removed her right black jacket sliding it down her arms and over her shoulder, revealing her lean and muscular physique. Feminine but looks oh so strong. Ghost watched in awe as she put her brunette hair up in a ponytail. Her sports bra hugged her breasts together and her black leggings wrapped around her physique like a second skin.

He gulped trying to maintain his composure and trying to look around as much as possible to not get his pants feeling tighter than they are. Now, not a lot of things got to Ghost, between his abusive past and occupation he had a skin made of titanium. Yes, he had relations with women before but it never got in the way of his job. Until he met Y/N. He knew she was going to be a distraction, whether or a good one or a bad one he was unsure of but the way she jogged on the spot and doing her warm ups, he felt time slow down.

Snapping himself from his thoughts, he moved to the centre of the mat and soon Y/N followed, standing opposite him. She looked so small in front of him he was scared he would snap her in half. Not that it would take much. He could snap anyone in half just by looking at them let alone lay a hand on them.

Adjusting their positions, feet planted to the floor, fists fisted into balls in front of their faces, they looked in each others' brown eyes.

"Now don't go too easy on me Ghost." Y/N teased.

"I wouldn't worry about me, love" He said. The word just slipped from his lips without him being able to process it. In a split of a second, Y/N charged at him, slipping herself between his open legs, using her right elbow against his hips and her left elbow behind his knee cap making him fall flat on his back. Composing himself from the whiplash he looked up to find her staring down at him, smirking. He tried his best not to get a boner there and then. But Ghost wasn't one to lose.

"I would worry about you... love." She imitated him down to the accent. Her victory was cut short when from her crouching position Ghost managed to flip his body around her, securing an arm around her torso and flipping her underneath him, pinning her to the mat, his body between her legs. She looked at him breathlessly and flushed, her chest heaving up and down, touching his.

"Again, you're quick but you lack strength Sergeant." Ghost said lowly, almost a growl. In the meantime, Price, Gaz and Soap were helping themselves in front of them. With a cocky smirk, Y/N looked down between their bodies. So close to each other they were sharing each others' heat.

"Tell me Ghost," She sang. "How do you like your eggs? Diced or scrambled?" Looking down as well, Ghost saw her knee and a small knife between his legs, gently pressing against his crotch. No amount of restraint in the world for a man to hold back from the dirtiest thoughts.

"Whole." He replied, making Y/N laugh. He pulled himself up on his feet and offered a hand to help her get up. But Y/N was not one to go down easily. As soon as she took his hand, she yanked his arm with such force that she sent him on his knees and jumped behind him, holding one of his arms behind his back.

"It seems like you had them for breakfast there Lieutenant." She gently released him.

"Is it me or am I the only one getting hard? How is he not hard from this?" Soap said adjusting his pants.

"Alright you two. I don't want to clean up Ghost's balls off the mat. Funnily enough, we kinda need him Y/N." Price intervened, laughing.

"I'm sure you do," Y/N replied. "I'm gonna go see how the recruits are doing after their 25 lap punishment. Until next time Ghostie." She smiled and exited the gym.

All four men were quiet. "Ghostie huh?" Soap teased.

"Don't start Johnny." Ghost lifted his mask to take a sip of water. He noticed that she left her jacket behind her. He took it in his hands and felt the soft fabric against his calloused hand.

"Guess Price wasn't wrong about her castrating us blindly. Mate you were this close to losing your jewels."

"I'm never wrong." Price coughed. "Also, 25 laps?"

"They underestimated her." Simon scoffed as he made his way to his apartment. Looking at Y/N's door he wondered if she was already inside so he knocked gently.

No answer.

He waited and knocked again gently and the door opened. She had a fluffy white bathrobe three sizes bigger than her and a towel around her head. No makeup whatsoever, she looked fresh out of the shower.

"Oh Ghost I'm so sorry to keep you waiting. Come on in." She invited him inside.

"Umm...no it's okay. I'm here to return your jacket. You left it behind." He stretched his arm holding her jacket.

"Ah thank you. I was wondering where I left it." She took the jacket from his hand. "Are you sure you don't want to come in? I can make you a cup of tea if you want." His heart was about to burst. She looked adorable in her oversized bathrobe swallowing her little body with a massive towel on her head, giving him almost puppy eyes. How could he say no?

"If you insist." She smiled widely at his acceptance. She moved inside and went straight to the bathroom. "Have a seat and make yourself comfortable I'll be with you in 5 minutes!" She shouted from the bathroom.

He took a seat in one of the armchairs with the fancy blankets she had. The smell of talc filled his nostrils. She was cooking something sweet because the smell of cinnamon mixed with the fabric conditioner of the blankets. It smelled like home.

Ghost looked around her furnished apartment.

Looks like a woman lives here. A cosy one.

After a few minutes Y/N showed up in the living room, wearing an oversized grey t-shirt and black shorts. Her hair was still damp. She put on the kettle and got the mugs out. "How many sugars Simon?"

"None." He replied. "Do you need any help?" He asked.

"No I'm fine thank you." She smiled at him as she turned back to making tea. "Milk?"

"None." He replied again.

"Ah, you're so traditional. I can't down tea with at least two teaspoons of sugar and milk. I like tea don't get me wrong and I like herbal tea but I like it sweet." He heard her ramble on about tea with a smile hiding under his balaclava.

Two sugars with milk.

"So basically you drink sugar with tea not tea with sugar." He joked as he took the cup of tea from her hands.

"Now, now Simon, don't tell a girl about her cravings." They conversed and shared their memories when they joined the military, when Simon joined the SAS and how he became lieutenant, how he met Soap and Price and Gaz. He tried to keep it as light as possible and not mention the people he lost during those times as did she.

Simon looked over to the little clock hung on her wall. "Oh my God I've been here for two hours! I probably interrupted your rest." He placed the cup on the coffee table and got up from the armchair.

"Oh don't worry. I enjoyed our little tete-a-tete. Just don't tell Soap or he'll get jealous." She giggled as she walked him to the door, making him chuckle.

"This was nice though." She said opening the door to find Soap staring at them.

"Did ye have a tea party without me?" Soap looked offended (jokingly of course). You shook your head laughing as you closed the door.

"Jealous much Johnny?" Ghost rasped opening the door to his apartment and Soap followed him in.

"Are you 'aving a thing with 'er?" Soap asked in a flirty tone.

"I am not. We're just friends. I'm making her feel welcome. It's not easy for a woman to be in this place, eyes prying her by men who want to get in her pants." Ghost said suggestively towards Johnny.

"Mate if you're saying that Y/N can't defend herself you should rewind to 5 hours ago when she 'ad her knives inches away from yer family jewels and frankly I'd like to keep mine. Honestly I was having trouble keepin' it together."

"Maybe you do need a castration." Ghost retorted.

"And ye need to grow a pair and ask the lass out."

Soap patted Ghost on the back as he said his goodbyes and retreated to his apartment.

Simon could still taste the tea on his tongue and could still smell the talc in his nostrils. He closed his eyes for a minute and let himself wander off to how she were curled up on the couch with a blanket covering her lower half with a cup of tea in her hands.

Simon and relationships couldn't be found in any dictionary together. He was never interested in having any sort of relationship with any woman. Yes, he went out on a couple of dates when he was way younger but when he grew up and joined the military there was no time or even interest especially after his past to get involved with anyone. He was emotionally constipated as Soap had put it several times.

But Y/N was different. She felt like hope. But getting close to her can be dangerous and looked down upon. They could both lose their jobs or even worse if anyone found out they're together they could use her as blackmail for Simon.

But how could someone love a ghost?

[dhr-ao3]

Parfaitement en pièces (Traduction française)

Parfaitement en pièces (Traduction française) https://ift.tt/0fjecyF by dearest_writer TRADUCTION FRANÇAISE de "Perfectly in Pieces" de CDLynn. La Fille du Trio Doré portée disparue. Le Prince Serpentard pris au piège. Un Ordre gardant des secrets. Et un Seigneur des Ténèbres au pouvoir. Attention : Univers alternatif dark (mais les personnages principaux ne le sont pas eux-mêmes), avec une discussion profonde des traumatismes causés par des abus physiques, émotionnels et sexuels. Cette fiction commence en plein milieu des ténèbres et montre les traumatismes subis et le processus de guérison de chacun des personnages par la suite, alors qu’ils essaient de se protéger et de rester eux-mêmes le plus possible, dans un monde qui cherchent à tout leur prendre. (Par rapport aux tags, le viol n’est pas entre Hermione et Draco.) Words: 6401, Chapters: 1/65, Language: Français Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con Categories: F/M Characters: Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Theodore Nott, Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, Harry Potter, Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Antonin Dolohov, Fenrir Greyback, Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Alecto Carrow, Amycus Carrow, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, Neville Longbottom, Padma Patil, Dean Thomas, Aberforth Dumbledore Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Additional Tags: Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Violence, Self-Harm, Rape/Non-con Elements, Pining Draco Malfoy, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, Loss of Virginity, War, Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Mirror Sex, Marking, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Childhood Trauma, Psychological Trauma, Physical Abuse, Sexual Abuse, Healing, Healing Sex, Memory Loss, Villains, Morally Grey Hermione Granger, Explicit Language, Angst, Dirty Talk, Tags May Change, Character Death, Masturbation, Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Therapy, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Hermione Granger, POV Theodore Nott, POV Ron Weasley, POV Ginny Weasley, Canon Rewrite, Sexual Roleplay, NSFW Art via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/AoyKEZJ October 03, 2024 at 06:31AM

[gallantfairy]

*/ Canon divergence.

Erza does not own Nakagami Armor, Ataraxia armor, Rabbit armor, Celestial armor, seduction armor or any explicit / sexual / filler outfits. She does not own over a hundred armors ( because canonly is actually a thing ) and she does not own over 200 hundred weapons. Instead she owns approximately 100 weapons and definitely a variety of armors.

While her fight against Kagura resulted in a draw, eventually she lost to Minerva. ( during the Grand Magic Games )

Speaking of Kagura, there's no ' big sister / little sister ' relationship between them. Instead, there's mutual respect.

Her fight against Jerome from Avatar was different. She did not defeat him with Ataraxia armor ( since in this blog, she does not possess it ) but rather, she overwhelmed him with the Heaven's wheen armor abilities and that's how she obtained victory. ( note: credit for this one goes to Fae! )

Erza's fight against Kyoka was different from canon. She did not beat Kyoka because ' she is erza!!!!! ', instead she had the assistance of Mira and Minerva in order to bring her down.

During her fight against Ajeel, she did not defeat him with her Nakagami armor; instead she used her wind god armor and had Bisca's assistance with the jupiter cannon.

She does not possess romantic feelings towards Jellal. She values him that's for sure, like a good friend, since both of them had suffered a lot during their childhood years. She does not excuse his past actions but she is always here for him when he needs her, to help him become better.

Which it comes to the conclusion that the ' ~ i have a fiancee ~ ' scene, did not take place.

During her fight with Irene, Erza did not fucking charged against a fucking comet and sliced it in half. Instead, she was able to evade with Wendy to secure their safety. Besides she needed healing because of the horrid condition of her physical state.

Speaking of Irene, she is not Erza's mother. A headcanon providing more information can be found here. ( X )

Her appearance is quite different from canon. Erza is tall, precisely 6ft / 1.82 cm tall, she has quite a muscular physique, she definitely has abs and lots of freckles. A more detailed headcanon could be seen here ( X )

She does not wield gravity magic.

Because nothing makes more sense during a fight than giving power of friendship speeches or patronizing your opponents. Obviously in this blog, that's not the case. You can find more about this rant here ( X )

Her victory against Azuma in the Tenrou Island differs from canon. Instead of using the spirits of her friends as a boost ( aka nakama power ), she defeated him with her swordsmanship skills, using techniques that are considerably last resort ones.

Erza's fight against her counterpart, Erza Knightwalker resulted in a draw.

When she is under the influence of alcohol, she will never act like a sexually frustrated drunk ( only rarely ). Instead, you would catch her sleeping in a corner in order to cast away the dizziness.

Her handwriting is indeed bad, but not unreadable to the point of considering a handwritten letter from her being taken as a threat. She is fully aware that it's not great and there will be times where you would catch her having somebody helping her improve it. ( most likely somebody from the Guild who excels in the aspect of calligraphy ) Thus, all the moments that include her writing illegible letters do not apply in this blog.

She will never use her body parts in order to seduce anyone. ( hence the sexual armors in canon ) Take that shit away.

The existence of the movies and of course the FT100YQ will not be acknowledged in this blog. ( including new armors, her performing grand chariot, new techniques etc. )

[letthewhumpbegin]

Faithful, chapter 2 - Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

This is the second (and final) chapter to this story. Chapter 1 can be found HERE.

Fandom: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them Characters: Newt Scamander, Albus Dumbledore, Gellert Grindelwald Short summary: Newt finds a fugitive Gellert Grindelwald and is forced to a duel. Word count: 2108 Warnings: contains magical injury, mentions of blood, passing out and magical healing.

A/N: this story is already posted on my FF.net and AO3 account, but now posted onto here as well.

(GIF by me)

Dumbledore and Newt waited until Grindelwald was taken away and the last of the Ministry officials had Disapparated.

"Now it's our time to go." Dumbledore tightened his grip on Newt's arm and turned on the spot. Newt felt the familiar, yet somewhat unpleasant, sensation of Side-Along Apparition. Whatever destination Dumbledore had in mind for them, Newt would be taken there, too.

After a few seconds and a whirlwind of blurry images, Newt's feet slammed into the ground at their destination. The impact made him stagger so much that he needed Dumbledore's steady physique next to him to remain standing.

Newt inhaled the cool night air and the smell of pine trees, and he immediately knew where they were. There, sitting on top of a hill, by the edge of a large lake, lay Hogwarts Castle.

"Why did you take me here?" Newt asked weakly. His energy was even more rapidly draining than before now. "It is the only place in the entire world that I trust to be safe," Dumbledore answered, "and a place where I know you will feel at ease while you recover."

"How are we getting to the castle?" It hadn't eluded Newt that they had Apparated at the edge of the school grounds, and he remembered fairly well that Apparating inside Hogwarts grounds was not possible. "I'm afraid we have to walk." Dumbledore looked genuinely sorry about this. "I know I'm asking a lot of you, but given the current circumstances, I did not think it wise to lower the school's security in any way." Newt nodded shortly. He knew Dumbledore had made the right choices, but still was not looking forward to this next part. He was feeling shaky and unsteady from his wounds, and it was getting worse by the second. "I'm– I'm not sure if I'll be able to make it all that way," Newt confessed. "We're not in a hurry." A compassionate smile played on Dumbledore's lips. "Take all the time you need."

Dumbledore made sure that Newt could properly lean on him for support, and did not pressure him in any way. "Whenever you're ready." Newt carefully took a step forward. Dumbledore moved forward with him, always making sure that Newt had plenty of support. He let Newt determine their tempo, and would wait patiently whenever Newt needed to stop for a moment to catch his breath.

---

It took a long time, but finally they set foot in the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts Castle. It was just as Newt remembered it, with the Great Hall on one side and the giant marble staircase on the other. Even though Newt was heavily weakened by his injuries and barely able to hold onto consciousness, it still felt like coming home.

Dumbledore had already felt Newt's weight grow heavier against him, so it did not come as a surprise when Newt started to sag. "It's alright, give into it." Dumbledore gently guided Newt to lie down on the marble floor of the entrance hall. Newt was as good as unresponsive by now, the injuries of the day finally taking the better of him.

Hurried, slippered footsteps announced the arrival of someone. Dumbledore looked up to find Professor McGonagall coming down the marble staircase. With her wand at the ready to fend off possible intruders, she trotted down the stairs.

"Albus?" She was clearly shaken up. "Is that you?" "Yes, Minerva," Dumbledore answered calmly. "Would you please wake up Madam Pomfrey? Her assistance is urgently needed." "Is that… Mr. Scamander?" McGonagall only now had a better look at the person lying on the floor. "It is," Dumbledore answered serenely, "Madam Pomfrey, Minerva, please." "Yes, of course." McGonagall hurried back up the steps and disappeared from view.

---

Dumbledore brought Newt over to the hospital wing, and arrived there at the same time McGonagall arrived with Madam Pomfrey.

The matron took one look at Newt and immediately determined this was serious. "Over here." She motioned to one of the beds. Dumbledore carefully laid Newt down on it, and retreated to the side to give the matron the space she needed to do her job.

McGonagall came to stand next to Dumbledore. "Does this mean Grindelwald was captured, Albus?" He nodded slowly. "It indeed does." "What happened to Mr. Scamander?" McGonagall stared horror-struck as Madam Pomfrey pulled aside Newt's coat and revealed the lacerations to his chest and shoulders. "They duelled," Dumbledore spoke thoughtfully, "I can think of some of the curses he's been hit with. McGonagall shook her head in disbelief. "It's a wonder he survived." "Come now, Minerva, don't underestimate him." The usual twinkle was back in Dumbledore's eyes as he spoke. "Newt knows how to stand his ground. You should see some of the creatures he works with."

Madam Pomfrey had chosen that moment to come over to Dumbledore. "Those are some serious injuries, Albus," she said disapprovingly, "only dark magic could cause those." "I know, I know." Dumbledore held up his hands to stop the reprimand he knew would follow. "But nothing I can't heal," she continued, "it will take time for him to recover properly from this, but I have all the spells and ointments ready to treat him." "Thank you, Poppy." Dumbledore smiled at her. Madam Pomfrey mumbled something no one quite caught, and set to work on Newt's injuries.

"Minerva?" Dumbledore turned to McGonagall. "I need you to travel to London, to the Leaky Cauldron, and find a man named Jacob Kowalski." "Who is he?" McGonagall looked rather confused by this request. "A Muggle in a wizard's inn will probably be easy to find." Dumbledore grinned at his own remark. "You will find him to be in possession of something very valuable to Newt, and I need you to escort Mr. Kowalski here." The dozens of questions shone on McGonagall's face, but she didn't ask them. "Right away."

Dumbledore silently sat down in the chair by Newt's bed. Madam Pomfrey was applying ointment to the wounds on Newt's chest and back, and topped it off with a generous amount of bandages. She tutted a few times disapprovingly during her treatment, but made no further comments.

"I don't know what else you have planned for this man, Albus," she began after a short while, "but he needs rest for at least the next few days. Absolute rest." "Certainly." Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "He will feel the after-effects of this for quite a while." She shook her head once more to show her disapprovement, before leaving for her office.

Dumbledore sat back in his chair. The hunt for Grindelwald had dominated his life in the past few months, and now, all of a sudden, it was over. It had cost him, surely. The very result of that was lying right in front of him. He did not know what the next few days would bring him, but for now his main concern was Newt. Dumbledore would not even think of anything else until he was sure Newt would be alright and would make a full recovery.

---

Newt slowly felt the comforts of sleep leave him. He willed it to overtake him once more, for he was still utterly tired, but it would not. He listened to the sounds around him. It was mostly quiet, but far in the distance were sounds of people talking and laughing.

"Lunch hour at Hogwarts." A solemn voice suddenly spoke. "My favourite time of the day."

Newt slowly opened his eyes to find Dumbledore standing by the window beside his bed. The professor stood with his hands buried deep in his trouser pockets, staring out of the window with a faint smile on his face. He observed his students having fun in the snow in the courtyard below. How he knew Newt was awake before the younger man was even fully aware of it himself, was a mystery.

"... Wh–what?" Newt stammered, still dazed with sleep. He made a feeble attempt to push himself more upright. "No, no, don't do that." Dumbledore stopped Newt from moving. "Or Madam Pomfrey will have my head." Newt lay back against his pillows. He had to admit that moving hurt quite a bit, so he would have probably stayed put without Dumbledore's intervention as well.

Dumbledore sat down in the chair by the bed. He gave Newt a friendly, yet intriguing stare. Suddenly his face broke into a smile as he held up a flat hand, where Pickett was swinging from one of the long, slender fingers. "This is a funny little fellow." "Pickett," Newt mumbled, relieved. Dumbledore shortly placed his hand on the bed covers, so Pickett could scurry over to Newt and sit down on his chest. Newt smiled briefly at the little creature seeking his company.

"Newt…" Dumbledore began. The tone of his voice indicated he meant to start a serious conversation. "What happened last night was more than I could ever have asked of you." "Did the Ministry arrest Grindelwald?" Newt ignored Dumbledore's remark. "Yes." Dumbledore folded his hands in his lap. "All thanks to you." "Yet you do not seem at ease." Newt tried to read Dumbledore's expression. "Grindelwald is a smart and powerful wizard, Newt" Dumbledore answered thoughtfully, "he will try to escape, and we cannot rule out that getting captured was even part of his plan." "So, last night was utterly useless." Newt shrugged. He had suddenly lost all confidence in his actions. "Absolutely not." Dumbledore sounded somewhat stern now. "Do not ever doubt the choices that you've made." Newt chuckled softly, plucking at his bedsheets. "How often have you told me that already?" "Apparently, not often enough," Dumbledore smiled.

Newt stared at his own knees now, avoiding at all cost to look Dumbledore in the eye. The older wizard did not seem bothered by this at all. He merely watched Newt with interest.

Dumbledore broke the silence after a short while. "Do you know what amuses me, Newt?" "Hogwarts at lunch hour?" Newt answered with the hint of a smirk. Dumbledore chuckled. "That, too. No, I meant that suitcase of yours." Newt's head snapped up, as he looked at Dumbledore with wide eyes. "It… that… my creatures," he stammered frantically. Dumbledore held up his hands and gestured for Newt to calm down. "Your creatures are safe. Mr. Kowalski has been taking excellent care of them. It's good to see how much the Muggle community knows about magical creatures these days." "I…" Newt tried to get some words out, but wasn't sure if he should speak. Dumbledore's words had not been accusatory or reprimanding, but he knew perfectly well he had broken quite a few laws when getting Jacob involved in taking care of his creatures.

Dumbledore quietly studied Newt, watching the young man's internal struggle. "What have I just said about doubting your choices, Newt?" He finally smiled. "Right," Newt chuckled rather nervously. "Mr. Kowalski is a very likeable man, and you've taught him well on magical creatures," Dumbledore continued. Newt was genuinely surprised now. "You've met him?" "Certainly," Dumbledore nodded, "he's right here at Hogwarts."

Newt hesitated shortly. If Jacob was here, that meant his case was here as well, and with that: his creatures. "I need to see my creatures." He made another attempt to get out of bed, ignoring the pain moving caused. "No." Dumbledore put a firm hand on Newt's shoulder, and easily kept him in check. "Madam Pomfrey will curse and jinx me with everything she has knowledge of when she sees you out of bed." "But…" Newt protested. "I'm afraid I will have to be firm," Dumbledore said calmly. "I can, however, send Mr. Kowalski to visit you. He'll be able to tell you all about your creatures' well-being." Newt fidgeted his hands together. This was not exactly what he had had in mind, but it would have to do for now. "Alright." The smile with which Dumbledore answered Newt betrayed that he was perfectly aware of Newt's reluctance to agree to this.

"Good." Dumbledore rose to his feet, taking the jacket which he had hung over the back of the chair. "I have a class to teach. We still have lots of things to discuss, which I will not bother you with now, but I will visit you again later today."

Dumbledore walked to the door of the hospital wing. "Oh!" He suddenly stopped and turned back to Newt. "I nearly forgot: I will send Mr. Kowalski over to you. And remember, do not get out of bed. Not even when Madam Pomfrey is on her hour-long lunch break." His words were followed by a mischievous wink. Newt smirked in understanding. "Thank you, professor."

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

The Other Evans Girl [Part Seven]

Fandom: Harry Potter [Marauder’s Era]

Pairing: Sirius Black x Original Female Character, Sirius Black x Daisy Evans, James Potter x Lily Evans

Characters: Sirius Black, Original Female Character, Daisy Evans, Lily Evans, Remus Lupin, James Potter, Harry Potter, Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Alice Fortescue, Frank Longbottom, Marlene McKinnon, Albus Dumbledore, Voldemort, Peter Pettigrew, Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix LeStrange, Walburga Black, Orion Black, Jasper Thicknesse, Barty Crouch Jr, Mulciber, Walden McNair

Word Count: 2758

Rating: Teen

Summary: Hogwarts is a safe haven, a home for many, but it’s often a place where heartache, love and complex emotions dwell and none know that better than the Marauders. Lily Evans just wants to make it out as a successful witch though the oncoming war and the ongoing advances of James Potter threaten that. Daisy Evans, her twin, has other goals. Join the Evans sisters as they make their way through Hogwarts, prepare for war and eventually find love.

Tags/ Warnings: Hogwarts, Friends, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Marauder’s Era, Teenage Angst, Babies, Weddings, Dating, Crying, Loss of Virginity, First Wizarding War, Love, Kissing, Teenagers, James Potter is a bit of a dick, Hogsmeade, 1970s, Fighting, Loss of Parents, Grief, Babies, Injuries, Gore, Harm, Christmas,  The Potter’s Mansion // Daisy’s Dress // NYE Lily’s Dress // NYE Daisy’s Dress // Lily’s Ring // Daisy’s Ring

LINK TO AO3 // LINK TO PINTEREST // LINK TO ALL PARTS

Summer 1975

‘Daisy hurry up!’ Lily yelled from where she was waiting impatiently at the foot of the stairs, unable to tell if she had actually heard her given that the radio was still blaring from their room. As she checked her watch again she grumbled. She hated her sister sometimes, well, not her sister but the differences between them. Whilst Lily was always prompt and on time Daisy could never seem to get herself together until the last moment something she could hear her sister doing now, rattling around her room as she tried to get herself ready to leave. As she heard the radio shut off Lily glanced at her watch once more as if it was somehow going to be earlier than it had been a second ago. They were supposed to be down at the meeting place in two minutes and it was at least a ten-minute walk, she could see the look on Severus’s face now.

‘Sorry, sorry, sorry,’ Daisy said as she came bounding down the stairs pausing as she reached the bottom of them and looking at Lily who hadn’t moved to leave yet despite them being late. ‘What?’ she said curiously, watching as Lily’s eyes roved over her attire. She was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, one that looked tighter than it was meant to be given that she had knotted against her stomach, ever so stylishly. Her blond locks flowed in waves and her subtle makeup was covered by red heart-shaped shades that took up half her face. ‘Nothing,’ Lily shrugged, as she moved towards the door, suddenly feeling the need to analyse her own outfit of brown cords and a flowy white shirt. Neither of them was dressed up fancy, they didn’t need to be after all they were only meeting Severus and going for a walk by the canal, something they had done a thousand times, yet Lily felt her outfit was lacking somehow.

See, over the summer Daisy had seemed to flourish. Whilst she had spent the past couple of years tucked away in the common room or library hiding from whatever gossip was being flung around about her (thanks to James and his cronies) now she seemed confident and happy. She had taken style tips from Marlene which she used to accentuate her wardrobe, ditching the boyish clothes for garments more chic and stylish. She had also changed physically. She was a little taller now, only a couple of inches shorter than Lily, and her physique had become more womanly. These changes had definitely taken hold of her and spurred her on with confidence. And though Lily was thankful for it she couldn’t deny it made her feel a little inferior.

‘Come on then,’ Daisy said, bouncing past her and out into the garden. Lily followed quickly opting to forget her insecurities as there was no way she’d have chance to go in and change anyway given how late they were. Yet as they made it up the garden path they were slowed further as a car pulled up onto the curb outside their house, Petunia emerging from it a second later followed quickly by her plump, ruddy-faced boyfriend. Lily sighed internally, cursing not only one sister but two for making her late, but nevertheless she stopped, not wanting to be rude as she said, ‘Hi Tuney.’ ‘Hello Lily, Daisy,’ Petunia greeted, ‘are mummy and daddy home?’ ‘Yeah they’re outside in the garden,’ Lily said glancing at Daisy who had been stood there silently evidently not as pressed with manners as her counterpart. Well at least she didn’t seem to be until she greeted, ‘Tuney, Vermin.’ ‘It’s Vernon,’ the man said gruffly which made Petunia’s neck turn purple and a smile come to Daisy’s face. Lily elbowed her sister in the ribs. ‘Don’t be rude,’ she said in a whisper praying Petunia wouldn’t take the mocking too badly considering they didn’t have time for an argument. ‘She knows very well what it is,’ her sister sneered, ‘she just thinks she is funny.’ ‘I don’t think I know,’ Daisy countered. ‘Well I agree with the first bit,’ Lily said earning herself an elbow in return. ‘Anyway,’ Petunia said with a smug smile, ‘nothing will annoy me today.’ ‘Wanna bet? I’m happy to stick around and disprove that,’ Daisy said though her words were overlapped by Lily who was trying to diffuse the tension by asking, ‘whys that?’

Petunia said nothing and instead stuck a bony hand out in front of her sister’s nose. Thereupon her long, spindly finger was a ring. A simple gold band with a substantial diamond cemented in the middle. Daisy wanted to vomit at the smugness plastered all over her sister’s face and even more, as her fiancé came up to her side and kissed her gruffly on the cheek.

‘Lovely,’ Lily said, ‘congratulations.’ ‘Thank you,’ Vernon said. ‘Yeah, congratulations you two. I mean wow a wedding! What’s next? A house? A baby? How magic,’ Daisy said her voice dripping in sarcasm. The purple tinge on Petunia’s neck was now gone. In fact, all the colour had now gone from her complexion. While the twins had been away at school Petunia had done quite a swell job convincing her new beau that her family was quite normal. However, since they had returned for the summer she had been mortified at him finding anything out and thus had tried to keep Vernon as far away from their home as possible. The twins hadn’t minded this as it meant they were unbothered by the older sister most of the time but when she was home their lives were intolerable. Lily dealt with it by getting out of the house often with Daisy in tow but her younger sister had used her newfound confidence to tease her sister mercilessly. ‘We think so,’ Vernon said with a smile not picking up on the hint Daisy had left hanging in the air. ‘Yes, let’s get inside snookums,’ Petunia said ignoring her sister’s giggles, ‘I can’t wait to tell mummy and daddy the news.’

And with that, she strode off with Vernon bumbling behind her leaving the twins in her wake trying to stifle their laughter. Once they were completely out of sight the twins started walking down the road towards town where no doubt Severus would be waiting for them with a good bout of reprimanding lined up though admittedly it would probably only be Daisy who received it. Neither of them seemed to be focused on that though, no, as they walked silently down to the village, the only sound to be heard was the crunching of gravel underfoot it seemed that there was only one thing on their mind.

‘I can’t believe she’s getting married,’ Daisy said as they got out of their neighbourhood, joining the main road towards the village. ‘Why not?’ Lily replied looking towards her twin whose face fell into one of disbelief at her reply. ‘She’s seventeen! Not to mention he’s horrible and she’s determined for him not to know about our ‘affliction’,’ Daisy said with derision. Lily paused for a moment before she responded. ‘Well, loads of people get married straight out of Hogwarts so she’s not that mad,’ Lily said. ‘Mad to marry him though,’ Daisy wagered. Lily hid a small smile. ‘Yeah, you’ve got me there,’ she conceded. Again the conversation lulled, both of them thinking about the prospects of marriage, both of them shuddering at the idea of marriage to Vernon Dursley. Yet as Daisy thought something about her sister’s words niggled at her and she found herself saying, ‘so… you’re planning to get married straight out of school huh?’

She glanced at Lily who had a pink tinge on her cheeks at the question. They were nearing the high street now and Severus was in view now though his back was to them which meant he wouldn’t know if they slowed down and this conversation had intrigued her enough to want to. As she slowed Lily did too.

‘Sev’s waiting,’ she pressed, motioning her to keep moving and when she didn’t she sighed and said, ‘what?’ ‘Answer the question,’ Daisy said. ‘What question?’ Lily said her gaze darting down the lane, watching Severus as he glanced at his watch. ‘Are you going to get married straight out of school?’ Daisy said. ‘I don’t know,’ Lily said exasperatedly, ‘I mean I don’t even have a boyfriend.’ ‘But if you did?’ Daisy asked. ‘I don’t know maybe. Look I wasn’t saying I want to get married at seventeen I’m just saying it’s not that mental I suppose. I mean I guess when you find that person what does it matter when you get married right? At seventeen or bloody seventy,’ Lily said. Daisy allowed her words to marinate for a moment before she slung her arm over her sister’s shoulder and said, ‘aw you big softy.’ ‘Oh shut it you,’ Lily said with a smile, happy to accept the teasing so long as it made her sister’s feet move. ‘You’re just gonna up and leave me to it?’ she goaded. ‘Like you’d survive without me,’ Lily said, ‘if anything I’ll need the extra support to put up with you.’ ‘Charming,’ Daisy giggled, ‘don’t worry I’m sure Sev will love putting up with me as a sister-in-law!’ ‘Don’t be mean,’ Lily said, dropping her voice as Severus was nearly in earshot, ‘Sev and I are just friends you know that.’ ‘Not through lack of trying,’ her sister snorted. ‘Well, he can try all he wants, thank you very much,’ she said, and before Daisy could tease her any more she strode ahead making it to Severus and greeting him before Daisy could catch up and by the time Daisy reached them, he had already broken into his tirade about their tardiness though Lily was able to calm him as she explained the reason they were late was Petunia’s announcement.

That revelation seemed to dispel whatever irritation had mounted during in his waiting and it carried the conversation for a good while as they walked through the village and down to the canal before eventually looping back towards the high street. However once it had been fully dissected from every angle the talk devolved into preparing to head back to school.

‘At least this year we get to learn about curses,’ Severus said as they turned back onto the street. ‘Sev you know I don’t like it when you talk about nasty things like that,’ Lily chastised. Severus’ pallid skin reddened for a moment. ‘Well it’s true,’ Severus said, ‘maybe if we got taught proper hexes people would think twice about attacking others in the corridor.’ ‘Well I don’t think anyone should be attacking anyone,’ Lily said dismissively. ‘Doesn’t stop them,’ Severus grumbled, a comment that he seemed to intend to be unheard yet Daisy caught it, their eyes meeting as she looked at him sadly. He looked away quickly after that which made the pity she had been feeling for him grow tenfold. It was an odd feeling. When they were younger she couldn’t understand why he couldn’t just stick up for himself, why he let Potter and his cronies walk all over him, but that was because she had been blinded by Potter’s charm. Once that illusion had been broken she’d found herself bonding with Severus over a mutual hatred. Of course he still irritated her and she didn’t have the same affection for him that Lily did but they had grown closer over the last year or so. And so when he voiced sentences like that she couldn’t help but feel her heart strings tug. Lily’s would’ve too no doubt if she had been paying attention but she seemed to be in her own world, looking into the store window beside her.

‘Oh my god!’ she shrieked moving closer to the window Daisy now noticed was a book shop. ‘Jesus Lil,’ Daisy said as an old woman walking her dog tutted as she passed. ‘What?’ Severus asked but Lily wasn’t listening to them as she had her face almost pressed up against the window. ‘They’ve got a new book I’ve been dying to read!’ Lily said excitedly. ‘Don’t you have enough books?’ Daisy sighed. ‘You never have enough books! Besides, I saw a review of this in the paper and it’s great apparently! Even you might like it, Dais,’ she said pointing to a book that had its own display in the window. In the midst of several others was a shiny covered book with the title ‘The Worst Witch’. Daisy and Severus smirked at one another. ‘Are you coming in?’ Lily asked, looking towards her sister. ‘No, thanks,’ Daisy said with a shrug. Lily looked at Severus. ‘You know I don’t like muggle books,’ he said. ‘Suit yourselves,’ Lily said as she quickly darted inside the shop. Once she was inside Daisy and Severus watched the door she had disappeared through for a moment before Daisy cleared her throat and said, ‘come on. She’ll be in there for ages let’s have a sit-down.’

Before Severus could argue she strutted away from him and across the street to the empty bus stop that was opposite them. Fortunately there was no one waiting and given that the buses only tended to come through their sleepy little village once an hour it was unlikely they’d be disturbed so both of them took a seat on the sun-warmed metal bench. They sat in silence for a moment, both of them watching Lily through the window of the shop opposite as she scanned every shelf excitedly and the pile of books started growing higher under her arm, until finally Severus asked, ‘so are you all packed for school yet?’ ‘No way,’ Daisy chuckled. ‘Yeah me either,’ he mused, ‘I bet Lily’s packed though.’ ‘For over a week,’ she grinned. ‘She’s always prepared that one,’ he chuckled, ‘you feeling alright about going back?’ ‘Yeah, course you?’ she replied not realising how he might not have the same excitement she had until she watched him drop his gaze to his shoes, offering her a mere shrug in response. ‘S’pose,’ he said eventually. ‘Maybe this year will be better,’ she reasoned, offering him a small smile as he looked up at her. ‘Of course, you say that. I mean you’re all,’ he said gesturing vaguely in her direction. ‘What?’ Daisy said looking down at her own body as if there was going to be a neon sign pointing out what he was getting at. ‘Nothing bad it’s just you’re different. More confident. Fitter,’ he said making Daisy blush. Severus seemed to realise what his words meant and he continued hurriedly over the awkwardness of it, muttering, ‘it’s just… you’re hardly going to struggle this year. I bet even Potter will be tripping over himself to get you back on side.’ ‘Shame I’d rather stick pins in my eyes. Besides just because I’m a little different now doesn’t mean that all my problems will go away…I’ve just decided I’m going to worry about them a little less,’ she said. ‘Hard not to care when you’re being hexed to dangle from one of the Quidditch Hoops overnight,’ he sneered. Daisy’s face fell into a scowl as she remembered the event. Though Severus had explained what happened there was no proof and Potter and his gang had gotten away with it. It was diabolical but she couldn’t blame the teachers she supposed, their hands were tied. At that thought an idea popped into her head. The teachers could only act when they had concrete proof something bad had happened, maybe they just needed help securing the proof.

‘Well maybe we make sure they’re different this year too,’ Daisy said with a cunning smile. ‘Oh yeah? How do you propose we do that?’ he said bitterly. ‘We care a little less and we make sure that Potter and his friends don’t bother us at all,’ she said. ‘The only way they’ll do that is if they’re not in school and I don’t see how-’ Severus said, going quiet mid-sentence before his face broke into a smile. ‘They can’t ruin Hogwarts if they don’t go there anymore,’ Daisy said with a smile. ‘Sorry about the time,’ Lily said pulling them out of their conversation as she landed on the curb in front of them, a carrier bag now in hand. As she looked between them she sensed she had missed something and so asked, ‘what have I missed?’

SIRIUS BLACK/SERIES TAGS

@maeisafangirl @mysteriouslydelicateface @caitlin1996 @imthebadguyyy

[unfortunate-arrow]

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚 𝐀𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝𝐲 | hphl character profile

warnings: mentions of death/murder

✧ IDENTITY ✧

Full Name: Minerva Aileen Kennedy

Nicknames: Min, Minnie

Name Meanings: Minerva → Latin, “of the mind, intellect” ; Aileen → Irish, “bright, shining light” ; Kennedy → Irish, “helmeted chief/leader”

Date of Birth: April 10, 1881 (at 1:05 pm)

Gender: Female ; she/her

Sexuality: Demisexual (+ biromantic)

Blood Status: Pureblood

Nationality: Irish, English

Residence: Whitethorn Hall, County Kerry, Ireland (birth to 25) ; TBD (25 to death)

✧ APPEARANCE ✧

Faceclaim: Claudia Jessie

Height: 5’6”

Build: Average physique 

Hair: Brown hair that is normally pulled back into a fairly elaborate style

Eye Color: Blue

Scarring:

Childhood & Hogwarts: Minerva has a y-shaped scar on her left hip as the result of a failed attempt at flying.

Adulthood: None

Modifications: (glasses, piercings, tattoos, etc.) Her ears are pierced. 

Other Distinguishing Marks: None

Clothing Style: Whatever’s comfortable ; dresses ; Ned’s trousers or breeches ; linen shirts ; skirts ; jumpers ; boots ; loafers

Accessories: Necklaces, broaches, headbands, hair clips  

What’s in Her Pockets: Her wand 

What’s in Her School Bag: Textbooks ; parchment, quills, ink ; a novel ; a notebook ; scraps of parchment with all sorts of randomness jotted down on them

✧ SPEECH & LANGUAGE ✧

Voiceclaim: Claudia Jessie

Accent: Irish

Dialect: Kerry English

Languages Spoken: English, French, Latin, some rudimentary Irish Gaelic

Languages Understood: English, French, Latin, some rudimentary Irish Gaelic

✧ PERSONALITY ✧

MBTI Type: ENTP — the debater 

⤷ Quick, ingenious, stimulating, alert, and outspoken. Resourceful in solving new and challenging problems. Adept at generating conceptual possibilities and then analyzing them strategically. Good at reading other people. Bored by routine, will seldom do the same thing the same way, apt to turn to one new interest after another.

Enneagram Type: 9w8 — the referee 

⤷ The Nine wing Eight type is a Nine who shares many of the Type Eight characteristics. This type is independent, social, adaptable, and generally more assertive and direct than other Nines. 

Positive Traits: Knowledgeable, intelligent, original, a quick thinker, witty, energetic, innovative, creative, open-minded, outgoing, adaptable

Neutral Traits: Stubborn, argumentative, charismatic, expressive, adventurous, private, curious, idealistic

Negative Traits: Unfocused, insensitive, can be intolerant, not big on practical matters, does not like sharing personal details and feelings

Common Stressors: Sharing her writing ; arguing ; exams ; her siblings

Comforting Things: Writing ; reading ; arguing ; her siblings ; licorice wands ; chocolate frogs

Interests & Hobbies: Writing, reading, debating, gardening

Description: Minerva is an intelligent woman of many opinions and passions. However, this tends to manifest as a chronic need to be right in every argument which isn’t helped by the fact that Minerva likes to argue. Despite her argumentative and stubborn tendencies, Minerva is usually open-minded and adaptable. However, she can sometimes be insensitive and intolerant, especially when in the face of a grudge or rivalry. In addition, Minerva has a tendency to be quite private, refusing to divulge anything that she deems too personal. Despite her thorns and prickly edges, Minerva is a loyal friend and is always willing to help out those she loves, even when she will spend the whole time complaining about it.

✧ MAGIC ✧

Wand: Minerva’s wand is made of hornbeam wood with a dragon heartstring core and is 9 ¾ inches with a supple flexibility

⤷ A particularly fine-tuned and sentient wand, Hornbeam selected for its life mate the talented witch or wizard with a single, pure passion, which some might call obsession - more kindly - vision, which would almost always be realised. Hornbeam wands adapted more quickly than almost any other to their owner's style of magic and would become so personalised, so quickly, that other people would find them extremely difficult to use even for the most simple of spells. Hornbeam wands likewise absorbed their owner's code of honour, whatever that might be, and would refuse to perform acts - whether for good or ill - that did not tally with their master's principles.

Other Magical Abilities: None

Patronus: Black and white cat

Patronus Memory: Winning a short story contest for the first time as a child

Boggart: The cloaked man who murdered her father standing over the body of someone that she loves

Riddikulus: The cloaked man trips over his cloak and the body disappears 

Amortentia:

Minerva smells like parchment, drying ink, lilies, and wintergreen mint. 

Minerva smells bergamot, old books, salt, woodsmoke, and lavender. 

Mirror of Erised: Minerva sees herself with evidence of succeeding in life and her family looking on proudly.

✧ HOGWARTS ✧

House: Ravenclaw 

OWL Classes:

Astronomy — Exceeds Expectations

Charms — Exceeds Expectations 

Defense Against the Dark Arts — Acceptable 

Flying — Acceptable 

Herbology — Outstanding 

History of Magic — Poor

Potions — Exceeds Expectations  

Transfiguration — Acceptable

OWL Electives:

Divination — Acceptable

Study of Ancient Runes — Outstanding 

NEWT Classes:

Astronomy — Outstanding

Charms — Outstanding

Herbology — Exceeds Expectations

Potions — Acceptable

Study of Ancient Runes — Exceeds Expectations

Extracurriculars: Writing club, debate club, school newspaper

✧ EMPLOYMENT ✧

Affiliations: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry ; the Daily Prophet ; Wizarding Publishers

Professions:

Age 18 to 25 - Journalist

Age 25 to 100 - Author

✧ FAMILY ✧

Father: Ferdia Dermot Seamus Kennedy [deceased, 1858-1892]

Born in 1858, Ferdia was the eldest child of Seamus and Aileen Kennedy’s four children. He had two younger brothers, born in 1862 and 1865, and a younger sister, Muriel, born in 1863. Ferdia had a good childhood, growing up in Whitethorn Hall alongside his younger siblings. He started Hogwarts in 1869 and was quickly sorted into Gryffindor. He was a popular student, gaining the positions of prefect and headboy as well as playing for his house’s quidditch team as the keeper. He also achieved high marks in all of his classes, earning the reputation as a golden boy.

After graduating from Hogwarts, Ferdia followed the footsteps of his father and grandfather into politics, getting elected to the legislative branch of the ministry of magic. In addition, at the age of 22, Ferdia married Alice Fortsecue, a Hufflepuff who he had begun courting after they first met during one of the first functions that Ferdia attended as a fledgling legislator. He had fallen quickly for Alice, knowing almost instantly that Alice was the one that he wanted to marry. Shortly after their spring nuptials, Ferdia and Alice learned that they would be expecting their first child, both completely unaware that their first child was actually their first AND second child. They learned that fact on April 10, 1881, when Edmund Dermot Ferdia Kennedy was born and three minutes later he was followed by Minerva Aileen Kennedy. Ferdia adored his children and each subsequent child as Walter Irvine Seamus, Elizabeth Alice “Eliza,” Anne Muriel “Nan,” Cordelia Fortescue, Penelope Martha, and Wilhelmina Agnes “Billie” joined the family in the years between 1883 and 1892. Unfortunately, Ferdia never had the opportunity to meet his youngest daughter and child, Billie.

It was April 1892, a few days after Edmund and Minerva’s eleventh birthday. A cloaked man approached Ferdia and murdered him. The man had a novel weapon that blended dark magic with a knife and Ferdia was left to bleed out. And as fate would have it, Ferdia’s eldest two children were sort of witnesses. Minerva ran off to get help from the house, but Ferdia knew that it would be too late. Edmund, though, stayed and Ferdia did his best to comfort his son. He made Edmund promise that he would keep an eye on his younger siblings, that he would be the man of the family. Ferdia knew that it was a lot to put on his son, but he didn’t know what else to do. Ferdia could never imagine the conspiracy that underpinned his murder, one that wouldn’t be unmasked until over a hundred years later when his great-great-grandson discovered the truth behind the mysterious murders that had plagued the wizarding world through the generations.

Minerva had a good relationship with her father, although they weren’t nearly as close as Ferdia and Edmund. She loved him a lot and losing him was extremely difficult. He is one of the best men that Minerva has ever known and she misses him everyday. 

Faceclaim: Rupert Evans

Mother: Alice Anne Kennedy née Fortescue 

Born in 1860, Alice was the only child of Elizabeth and Irvine Fortescue. She grew up in the English countryside in Suffolk, England, traipsing through the land that her family owned. Upon starting Hogwarts in 1871, Alice was sorted into Hufflepuff. She didn’t play quidditch as she wasn’t interested in the sport, but she did become a prefect and turned down the position of head girl in her seventh year. 

After graduating from Hogwarts, Alice began working as a healer in St. Mungo’s. She worked for St. Mungo’s until she was six months pregnant with the twins. In between, though, she fell in love with and married Ferdia Kennedy when she was twenty. On April 10, 1881, Alice’s first two children, Edmund Dermot Ferdia and Minerva Aileen, were born. Between the years of 1883 and 1892, Alice had six more children, Walter Irvine Seamus, Elizabeth Alice “Eliza,” Anne Muriel “Nan,” Cordelia Fortescue, Penelope Martha “Nellie,” and Wilhelmina Agnes “Billie,” with her husband. Her youngest child, Billie, was born after her husband’s death.

Alice’s life was turned upside down in April of 1892 after her husband was murdered. She was devastated… and six months pregnant. It was also, in some ways, a double whammy because her eldest son became a lot more serious and quiet. Despite this, Alice held strong for her children, only letting herself break down at night, once all of her children were asleep. After seeing all her children graduate from Hogwarts, Alice decided to go back into the field of healing. She eventually became the matron at Hogwarts… just in time to coincide with some of her grandchildren’s time there.

Minerva was much closer to her mother, although they sometimes had an adversarial relationship mostly surrounding their differing expectations for the world. It was at its worst when Minerva was in her fifth year. Despite this, Minerva has always respected her mother and all of the choices that Alice made after losing her husband in such a sudden and violent manner. Minerva adores her mother. 

Faceclaim: Ruth Gemmel

Twin Brother: Edmund Dermot Ferdia “Ned” Kennedy

Born on April 10, 1881, Edmund is the eldest child of Ferdia and Alice Kennedy, three minutes older than Minerva, and a Gryffindor. Minerva has a fairly close relationship with her twin brother, although she makes it her mission to annoy him and get him to lighten up. Even with her desire to annoy him, they don’t bicker all that much, even though they are quite competitive. They don’t always spend a lot of time together, but Minerva loves her brother very much. She would do anything for Ned. He might be the world’s most obnoxious brother sometimes, but she can’t imagine life without Ned being her twin brother. 

Faceclaim: Jonathan Bailey

Brother: Walter Irvine Seamus Kennedy

Born in November 1883, Walter is the third child of Ferdia and Alice Kennedy, two years younger than Edmund, and a Slytherin. Walter is a carefree soul with an athletic passion. He joins the Slytherin quidditch team as soon as he possibly can, earning the position of beater. Walter has a kind heart and big ambitions, focused on both athletics and politics, creating an interesting debate in his head that is resolved when he determines to become a politician after he retires from playing professionally for the Appleby Arrows. He’s also a bit of a prankster, with his older brother being his most common target.

Walter is always going to be Minerva’s annoying little brother, but it's a different annoying when compared to Ned. They might not be the closest set of siblings, as Walter is closer to Cordelia. Minerva loves her little brother a lot, though, and knows that when push comes to shove, Walter is someone that can be trusted. She would do anything for him and it’s especially fun to team up and annoy Edmund.

Faceclaim: Anthony Boyle

Sister: Elizabeth Alice “Eliza” Kennedy

Born in October of 1884, Eliza is the fourth child of Ferdia and Alice Kennedy, three years younger than Edmund, and a Hufflepuff. Eliza takes after her mother a lot. She’s got a really big heart and she’s always trying to look on the bright side of everything. However, she’s a bit of a people pleaser, never really knowing when to say no. Luckily, she’s got seven siblings who will say “no” for her. It takes her a while to learn that skill for herself, but eventually she finds a balance. This is helped by her decision to follow her mother’s footsteps and become a healer.

Minerva has a close relationship with Eliza, as they seem to get on fairly well… except when it comes to what they want their paths in life to look like. Eliza is a little more traditional and romantic than Minerva, which can cause a lot of different arguments between them. However, this doesn’t stop them from having a pretty good relationship. Minerva loves her little sister. 

Faceclaim: Phoebe Dyenvor 

Sister: Anne Muriel “Nan” Kennedy

Born in May of 1887, Nan is the fifth child of Ferdia and Alice Kennedy, six years younger than Edmund, and a Hufflepuff. Nan is a tough yet gentle soul. She’s got a big heart, but won’t hesitate to call out her siblings and other close companions. She finds herself named prefect in her fifth year and joined the Hufflepuff quidditch team in her fifth year as well, playing the position of chaser. She found a calling as a mediwitch, following similar footsteps to her mother and older sister, Eliza, but making it her own.

Minerva has a good relationship with her sister. Nan is similar to Eliza, but she and Minerva don’t have the same arguments that Minerva and Eliza do. Nan is the first Kennedy to really notice Adonis’s feelings for Minerva and when Minerva’s feelings towards Adonis start to change. Nan’s not as much of a menace to Minerva as she is to Ned. Minerva loves this about her sister and Nan is the one to sort of tell Minerva to suck it up when her best friend, Lottie, starts to court Ned. Minerva loves her little sister, even if she wishes that Nan would mind her own business sometimes. 

Faceclaim: Rosie Graham

Sister: Cordelia Fortescue Kennedy

Born in September of 1888, Cordelia is the sixth child of Ferdia and Alice Kennedy, seven years younger than Edmund, and a Ravenclaw. Cordelia had always been a quiet girl, preferring to spend her time on her own and often comes across as aloof. She has a heart of gold, though, but like her oldest brother, it’s often hidden amongst other more dominant expressions. She becomes a prefect while at Hogwarts and also accidentally ends up on Ravenclaw’s quidditch team, playing chaser. 

Minerva has a good relationship with Cordelia. They have a lot in common, but Cordelia has somehow ended up being the closest to Walter. Minerva loves her little sister and they get along quite well, they just aren’t that close. She also feels a bit protective over Cordelia and keeps a close eye on her while Cordelia’s at Hogwarts. 

Faceclaim: McKenzie Foy

Sister: Penelope Martha “Nellie” Kennedy

Born in January of 1890, Nellie is the seventh child of Ferdia and Alice Kennedy, nine years younger than Edmund, and a Slytherin. Nellie was, in many ways, her mother’s daughter. She was quite similar in personality to Alice, but she’d always had ambitions that extended beyond motherhood and what was traditionally available to her. Alice always said that this drive was all Ferdia, and, in many ways, it was. However, Nellie always had a softer side. She was always quite stubborn and found her own way to pursue her numerous ambitions.

Aside from Edmund, Minerva is probably the closest to Nellie. They have a lot in common, mostly about the fact that they both want something different from life. Minerva finds hers in writing, while Nellie pursues many different passions. Their nine year age gap makes a lot of fights not happen and Minerva loves her little sister a lot. She’ll always have Nellie’s back. 

Faceclaim: Connie Jenkins-Greig

Sister: Wilhelmina Agnes “Billie” Kennedy

Born in July of 1892, Billie is the eighth child of Ferdia and Alice Kennedy, eleven years younger than Edmund, and a Gryffindor. Billie was born three months after her father was murdered and thus never knew him. Instead, her oldest brother, Edmund became a bit of a replacement, despite still being a child himself. Billie always admired her big brother, though, and wanted to be exactly like him. While she grew out of much of this, she still found similarities in their lives. However, Billie’s interests at Hogwarts aligned more with her brother, Walter’s and she joined Gryffindor’s quidditch team in her fourth year. 

Minerva has a good relationship with her baby sister. Billie absolutely adores Ned and to a lesser extent Walter, which can sometimes feel like an obstacle to Minerva. However, she loves Billie a lot and enjoys helping Billie with things. She also is determined not to be a second mother to Billie and just be Billie’s sister.

Faceclaim: Florence Mitchell

Pets: 

Childhood: An owl named Ari

Adulthood: TBD

✧ ROMANCE & CHILDREN ✧

Love Interest: Adonis Androcles Demiurgos (@endlessly-cursed)

→ Minerva first met Adonis Demiurgos in her first year, when he was still an English language learner. A simple first meeting quickly deteriorated after an incident involving some of her private works (which mostly were written after her father’s murder) and a mostly one-sided rivalry formed. Minerva held onto her grudge for a good while and Adonis always seemed to know which buttons to push and how to irritate her. This rivalry held until her sixth year, after Ned invited Adonis and a few others to spend the weekend at Whitethorn Hall for a gathering at the urging of their mother and Adonis began to do small gestures for her. However, Minerva remained oblivious to his changing feelings and didn’t really realize her romantic feelings until she and Adonis met again in France. Their courtship began soon after that and they courted for eighteen months before Adonis proposed. Minerva married him on August 8, 1906.

Son: Atticus Ferdia Gregorius Demiurgos-Kennedy

Slytherin | Prefect | Headboy | b. August 31, 1907

Minerva has a generally good relationship with her eldest child. There’s some friction, mostly because Atticus really reminds her of her brother, Ned and that’s not exactly the easiest personality to understand. However, Minerva really adores her son and is quite proud of him and all that he accomplishes. She aims to support Atticus in everything that he does. Minerva loves her son a lot. 

Faceclaims: Jackson A. Dunn & Reeve Carney 

Daughter: Daphne Alice Sofia Demiurgos-Kennedy

Ravenclaw | Heterosexual | b. August 31, 1907

Minerva has a good relationship with her daughter. In many ways, it’s a simpler relationship than her relationship with Atticus. Daphne is much more similar to Minerva than Atticus is, which makes it a bit easier for Minerva to get along with her daughter. However, Minerva does her best not to compare Atticus and Daphne as she hated that when she was a child herself. Minerva really loves her daughter and is quite proud of Daphne. She aims to support Daphne in whatever her daughter does. 

Faceclaims: Emma Tremblay & Emilia Clarke

Son: Matthias Dermot Apollonas Demiurgos-Kennedy

Gryffindor | Prefect | Chaser | b. September 12, 1918

Minerva has a good relationship with her youngest son. In many ways. Matthias was an only child given the eleven year age gap between him and the twins. This makes it easier to spend one on one time with Matthias, but Minerva had always tried to do that with Atticus and Daphne. There is some friction in her relationship with Matthias, though, as he takes after his father more. Minerva loves her son a lot, though, and is quite proud of him. She aims to support him in whatever he does. 

Faceclaim: Lewis McAskie

✧ OTHER RELATIONSHIPS ✧

Best Friends:

Lottie Gallagher (@slytherindisaster)

Close Friends: TBD

Friends:

Gwen Archeron ; Seraphina Hopper (@thatravenpuffwitch)

Lydia Ellis (@mjs-oc-corner)

Acquaintances: TBD

It’s Complicated: TBD

Hogwarts Dormmates:

Genevieve Davenport (@gaygryffindorgal) 

Sara Rosier (@endlessly-cursed)

Rivals: Adonis Demiurgos (@endlessly-cursed)

Enemies: TBD

✧ HISTORY & BACKGROUND ✧

Place of Birth: Whitethorn Hall, County Kerry, Ireland 

Hometown: Whitethorn Hall, County Kerry, Ireland 

Childhood: 

Born on April 10, 1881 at 1:05 pm, Minerva Aileen Kennedy is the second oldest child of Ferdia and Alice Kennedy, three minutes younger than her twin brother, Edmund. From the age of two to eleven, Minerva gained six younger siblings. Her younger brother, Walter, was born in November of 1883, with five younger sisters (Eliza, Nan, Cordelia, Penelope, and Billie) being born between October of 1884 and July of 1892.

Prior to the age of eleven, Minerva had a good childhood. She and her siblings were well-loved and she mostly had a good relationship with all seven of them. Everything changed one April day in 1892, a few days after Minerva’s eleventh birthday and the arrival of her Hogwarts letter, when her father was murdered. 

While Minerva didn’t witness her father’s final breaths, she did witness her father falling and she ran to get help. She also wasn’t as affected by her father’s death as Ned was. However, she was affected by it as it made her a lot more private and less willing to share things that she deemed more personal. She also began to write a lot of darker stories, especially those that involved death. They were never what she liked to write. They were just a way to process her father’s death. 

Hogwarts Years:

Upon starting Hogwarts, Minerva was sorted into Ravenclaw. She took to the house in stride, finding that there were many kindred spirits in the house. Her rivalry with Adonis Demiurgos also began in her first year and continued for a lot longer. Minerva spent a lot of time writing and finding out what her writing style was. She also started working for the Hogwarts school newspaper and started a small section for writing competitions.

Adulthood:

After graduating from Hogwarts, Minerva began working as a journalist for the Daily Prophet. She quickly learned that journalism was not for her, but continued in the career until the age of 25. At that point, Minerva decided that it was time to pursue her dream of becoming an author and started sending out manuscripts of her first completed novel… under the pen name M. Kennedy. She published many novels and short stories in her lifetime, becoming a bit of a cult author. She didn’t begin publishing under her own name until she was fifty, at the urging of her family as she had been debating publishing under her own name for many years.

For the most part, Minerva’s adulthood was stable. Her love life was a lot more stable than her twin’s. She began courting Adonis Demiurgos in 1904 and they married on August 8, 1906. They had three children together. Their eldest children were twins, Atticus and Daphne, born on August 31, 1907. Their youngest child, Matthias, was a surprise and was born on September 12, 1918, eleven years after the twins were born. 

Old Age:

Minerva never officially retired from writing. Instead, she began to slow down and found fewer and fewer works to be acceptable for publishing. She took time to spend with her family as well, devoting time to her grandchildren. She spent her time doing what she felt like and finding out what she could find peace in, which included her grandchildren.

Death: 

Minerva passed away, peacefully in her sleep, at the age of 108, in 1990. She lived a long and fulfilled life, leaving behind three children, six grandchildren, and nine great-grandchildren.

✧ MISCELLANEOUS ✧ 

Favorite Color: Sapphire blue

Favorite Food: Pie (both sweet and savory)

Favorite Drink: Pumpkin juice, butterbeer

Favorite Weather: Sunny

Favorite Season: Autumn

Favorite Books/Authors: Little Women by Louis May Alcott, Jane Austen, Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, penny dreadfuls

Dislikes: Bullies, cabbage, shellfish, people touching her writing without her permission, Adonis Demiurgos

Trivia:

Minerva reads a lot… including things that she doesn’t actually care for. She draws the line at Ned’s estate books, though. Those are only good for falling asleep. 

Minerva usually has a small notebook to jot down any ideas that she has or any interesting things that she observes. Anything that's good for writing inspiration, really.

Minerva hates being called “Minnie.” It just irritates her, so naturally, her siblings call her “Minnie” constantly. If she has to be called a nickname, she prefers to be called “Min.”

Important Links:

Minerva’s tag [#minerva kennedy]

Information about her children, Atticus, Daphne, and Matthias

[styxnbones]

2 and 3 for Cass AND Corin :3

Cass:

2.Does your oc have any nicknames/how did they get them?

"Cass" is technically the nickname- short for Cassandra. People around them just shortened it a lot when she was a kid and they stuck with it (+ if she's being honest they like that its a bit more androgynous than her full name. In her mind "Cassandra" sounds like some snooty old lady with a gucci purse)

4.Do they have any defining physical traits?

If amything the most defining thing about Cass' physique is that she doesnt have one- plain brown hair, plain brown eyes (none of that 'golden in the light' bs), average build, average height. She wears a simple timeless outfit. The only conspicuous thing about her is that their looks remain static. Always the same outfit, the same hair. Never aging, never changing.

Corin:

2.Does your oc have any nicknames/how did they get them?

He does actually, though he only recieved it relatively recently. Its tradition in the Sabbat for new Cainites to recieve a new name from their pack priest as part of their creation ritae to help them abandon their connection to mortal life. Usually it's to do with some quality they exhibit during their rite, but sometimes a pack has a specific naming scheme. In Corin's case, though he was already some 30 years dead when he defected from the Camarilla, Minerva opted to continue on the naming tradition of their original (at this point long slain) pack, and give him the new name Liber- after the Roman god, to highlight his hedonistic streak. Ideally, new Sabbat initiates are supposed to take this name to heart and use it to build a new identity with their pack, but Corin's a bit too attached to his original name, and has had more than enough identity crises for several lifetimes, so he views it as more of a nickname. also sometimes Minerva calls him Libera as a pet name

4.Do they have any defining physical traits?

Prior to his defection, his main deviation from the Generic Rich White Gay look was the heterochromia - green right eye, blue left eye. After getting back from Prague with Minerva they hooked him up w a Tzimisce in Montreal and he had the blue eye changed to lilac, his hair is now a dark mauve, and he got a black band tattooed around his neck.

[femmeveined-a]

NEW MUSE ALERT!!!

Full Name: Minerva McGonagall Nickname: Professor McGonagall Age: early-mid seventies, with other ages in other verses Zodiac: Libra MBTI: ESTJ Traits: Witty, brave, fiercely protective, intelligent, warm-hearted, stern, serious, judgmental

Tl;dr Bio: The first of three children between a Presbyterian minister and a witch, Minerva grew up very attached to her father, despite inheriting her mother’s powers. Went on to be Head Girl and a Prefect at Hogwarts, and briefly joined the Ministry of Magic before filling the position of Transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts.

personals do not reblog

[roarlikealion]

navigation

[ao3feed-bellamione]

Ambrosial Bookworm

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/g5dVA1M

by Lwolfgaurd

Hermione has a harem of lovely ladies who fall for her finely sculpted physique and the lovely scent she typically has post workout~

Fluffy, exercise au idea I'm writing for fun, read at your own risks!

Words: 2418, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/F, Multi

Characters: Hermione Granger, Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Andromeda Black Tonks, Luna Lovegood, Minerva McGonagall, Lavender Brown, Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Fleur Delacour

Relationships: Lavender Brown/Hermione Granger, Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Hermione Granger/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Andromeda Black Tonks, Hermione Granger/Luna Lovegood, Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson, Fleur Delacour/Hermione Granger

Additional Tags: BAMF Hermione Granger, Hermione Granger Harem, exercise au, Purebloods/most Muggleborns don't believe in physical exertion, Quidditch doesn't count, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/g5dVA1M

[whatsortofschoolisthis]

IDENTITY 

Full Name: Hecate Maran Ames

Nicknames: Redbird, Pip, Mouth.

Name Meanings: Hecate — Greek, ”Far Away”,  Maran— Latin, ”A Woman of the Sea” Ames — English, “Friend”

Date of Birth: October 31st 1973 (11:00pm)

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Blood Status: Pureblood

Ethnicity/Race: White/Caucasian 

Nationality: Irish

MBTI Type: ESTJ-T- Executive

Residence: Tralee, County Kerry, Ireland. (Until she and Sean were 9), St. Ives, Cornwall (11-24), NYC USA,  (24-27), and then back to St. Ives for the remainder of her life.

MAGIC 

1st Wand:

Wood: Acacia 

Core: Unicorn tail hair

Length: 11 inches

Flexibility: slightly flexible

2nd Wand:

Wood: Silver Lime

Core: Dragon Heartstring Core

Length: 11 inches

Flexibility: Slightly Flexible

Other Magical Abilities: Hecate is a Seer. It is somehow linked with inherited Legilimens abilities but its not certain how or why.

Patronus: Dapple Grey Stallion

Patronus Memory: Rubin taking her, Sean, Bryn, and Kit to feed the ducks the first week they started living with her.

Boggart: The Dullahan. She saw him once before her grandad died. After the events of the fifth vault, it’s the Dullahan as Rakepick, standing over the dead bodies of her friends.

Riddikulus: The Dullahan/Rakepick singing the “Hello my Baby” song from the Looney Tunes short

Amortentia:

Hecate smells Old books, Tea, and Broomwood.

Hecate smells like Pumpkins, Hot Chocolate, and the seaside.

Mirror of Erised:  Depends. As a child and 1-5th year its her family together again. Later its herself, secure in her relationships with those that love her and not needing the ones that don’t.

HOGWARTS 

House: Hufflepuff

OWL Classes:

Transfiguration - O

Charms - EE

Herbology - EE

Astronomy - T

Potions - A

History of Magic - P

Defense Against the Dark Arts - O

Flying - O

OWL Electives:

Divination - P

Care of Magical Creatures - O

NEWT Classes:

Herbology- O

Transfiguration - O

Quidditch: Quidditch Commentator alongside Murphy McNully. Was not allowed to play Quidditch officially due to her epilepsy. 

Prefect: No

Clubs: Frog choir and Sphinx Club.

Favorite Professors: Professor Minerva McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, Professor Kettleburn.

Least Favorite Professors:  Professor Binns and Professor Rakepick.

CAREER 

11 to 17 - Hogwarts student

18 to 60 (with a break during the war) - Quidditch Commentator.

60 to 100- Assistant Coach to Andre Egwu- Pride of Portree.

 APPEARANCE 

Faceclaim: Aileen Marie Quinn (Hogwarts year, predominant) / Molly Quinn (adulthood)

Height: 4 ft 11.

Weight & Physique: 109 lbs. Wiry Build.

Hair Color: Red

Hair Style: Cut short and curled

Eye Color: Brown

Skin Tone: Fair

Scars: Hecate has a thin scar on her right arm from the devil’s snare and a nasty looking scar on the back of her leg from where the Ice Knight got her.

Modifications: (piercings, tattoos, glasses, etc.)  her ears are pierced.

Distinguishing Marks: None.

Clothing Style: Robes or comfortable dresses she can climb/run around in.

Accessories: (watch, jewelry, etc.) A bracelet Andre gave her and a necklace from Chiara (she will NEVER take either off)

What’s In Her Pockets: Her wand and a detailed note from Rubin on how to make and receive calls on Muggle phones. 

What’s In Her School Bag:

Textbooks

Notebooks for each class.

Potion for seizures.

Quills and ink 

A picture of her and her family (all fourteen of them).

Her frog choir folder

Treats for Pangur Ban, her crup.

VOICE & LANGUAGE 

Voiceclaim: Christian Mooney (Aisling, Secret of Kells, all i could find)

Accent: (might differ from voiceclaim’s) Irish/Cornish

Dialect: Munster.

Languages Spoken: English, Irish Gaelic, and Faroese.

Languages Understood: English, Irish Gaelic, and Faroese.

Speech and/or Language Disorder: None

FAMILY 

Father: Henry John Ames

Born on May 1st 1920 and raised in a small wizarding/squib village in North Devon, England. The youngest of three children, his parents were much older and tended to spoil him a bit. 

His childhood prior to Hogwarts was...chaotic. His father (a cursebreaker), who he admired, had multiple affairs and his parents were always fighting about it. His siblings, Holly and Hannah, were also in and out of the house with their own families, so it got a little cramped. 

Henry was thrilled when he got his Hogwarts letter.

Henry was sorted into Gryffindor upon starting Hogwarts. He was fairly popular and played Beater on the Gryffindor Quidditch team but was known for messing around with girls. In spite of this he attracted the attention of his first wife Nancy White.

After Hogwarts, Henry decided to pursue a career as a Cursebreaker like his dad and repeated the patterns of his father before him. A breaker of cycles, he is not.

He had a brief fling with Elsa Orn, who had Rubin as a result. He would write to and visit Rubin, who mostly tolerated him until adulthood.

 He married Nancy in 1949 and had Wren a year later.

After his Wife’s brutal murder at the hands of blood purists, he took Wren and moved to Galway, Ireland to be near Fiadah and her mother Brigid. Fiadah hated him even as a tiny bitter four year old, so it was Not Fun.

In 1959, He met Saorise and after sweeping her off her feet he married her. He was also ‘Dating’ a woman named Gwen on the side who had Bryn on March 8th 1972.

On December 3rd, 1965, Saorise had Odhran Jacob Ames AKA Danny.

Sometime in 1973 Saorise and Gwen realized that Henry was cheating and he found himself divorced and with no girlfriend.

This did not keep him from moving on and it seems he has learned nothing and will continue to learn nothing until he dies.

Current wife is Sally Baker-Ames who had Evangeline Louise Baker-Ames in 1974. She goes to Hogwarts and it is very VERY awkward.

Looks for Jacob while out on Cursebreaking expeditions and helped Saorise pay for a private detective. He also informed Rubin when Saorise began to neglect Hecate and Sean. While he is a bad father and husband, he does care about his children, in a strange haphazard way. 

Faceclaim: George Arliss

Mother: Saorise Aine O’Malley (formerly Ames, changed her name back after the divorce)

Born on June 4th, 1930 in Tralee, Ireland to Sean and Bridget O’Malley.

Her childhood was happy and full of love, she was an only child and was doted on by her parents.

Saorise was sorted into Hufflepuff. She was a Hatstall between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.

After graduating from Hogwarts, Saorise worked as a court scribe for the Ministry of Magic.

In 1959, Saorise met Henry and was swept off her feet. Soon she found herself with a stepdaughter at home, two more abroad, and three small children.

She slowly realized that maybe multiple affairs are not ‘Mistakes’ but indicative of a pattern.

Eventually Gwen (her best friend) revealed Henry to her and Saorise promptly divorced him. She forgives Gwen, as she had no idea,  and they maintain a friendship until Gwen dies of cancer in 1986.

Jacob going missing consumed her and she soon began neglecting her other two children while looking for him. Rubin stepped in and took custody of Hecate and Sean after she came over to visit at the insistence  of her father and found Hecate seizing, Sean sobbing, and Saorise nowhere to be seen.

She eventually came back around after year 5 but the children have no interest in a relationship and she doesn’t really blame them. They have a distant aunt type relationship with her.

Faceclaim: Lucille Ball.

Older Brother: Odhran Jacob Ames AKA Danny.

Born on December 3rd, 1965, Danny is the oldest known boy. He was sorted into Hufflepuff and caused all kinds of problems due to his arrogance and inability to tell when he is being lied to.

Wants to be like his father which is why he goes after the Vaults so hard.

Hecate hero worshiped him and the truth of who he really was hit her harder than the others. 

Jacob calls Hecate Pip when he’s happy with her and Mouth when she irritates him.

They reconcile but are never close afterwards. 

Faceclaim: Patrick Swayze (1980s)

Brother: Sean Michael Ames

Sean is Hecate’s twin and is ten minutes younger than her.

Sean tends to drive Hecate insane but she loves him dearly and  understands him to an extent.

Sean takes over the Cursed Vaults Search for Hecate whenever she is in the Hospital Wing and they generally look after one another.

Faceclaim: No Clue.

Sister: Rubin Agda Orn

Eldest ‘Ames’ Child. In her forties after Hecate graduates.

Becomes Hecate and Sean’s legal guardian when they are eight years old and moves them out with Kit to St. Ives when they’re ten due to wanting to get them away from their Mother’s negative influence.

Very close with both Hecate and Sean and teaches them her own form of magic.

Saved their lives during the First Wizarding War. 

Hecate adores her.

Drumstrang Student, chose ancient Norse magic as her concentration in her 5th year.

Sister: Wren Etta Ito

Wren is the second oldest girl. Forty when Hecate graduates.

Married Osamu in 1970 and immigrated to Japan in 1972. Had her first child, Mirou, in 1970 and her second, Sara,  in 1973.

She writes to all her siblings and they love each other but Wren is more like ‘The Ancient Half Sister’ in Roald Dahl’s ‘Boy’ book to the younger ones. 

Ravenclaw.

Sister: Fiadah Medb O’Faud

Third oldest girl. Thirty-nine when Hecate graduates.

As soon as she achieved Thoughts she decided to cause problems on purpose. Mostly for Henry and purist peers. Later this applies to criminals being tried in MAUSCA’s courts.

Hecate is a bit scared of her as a child/teen but grows to admire Fiadah as an adult.

Slytherin/Thunderbird house.

Brother: Bryn Ames

A year older than Hecate and Sean and the Responsible Sibling.

Hecate is very close with Bryn and he looks after her as best he can. She’s probably his favorite sibling.

Bryn helps with the vaults when he can but his Prefect duties keep him busy most of the time

Slytherin

Nephew/Sibling: Kitto Alan Teague

A few months older than Hecate, not that it helps.

Hecate and Kit get along well and he joins them on Vault adventures about 98% of the time.

A Good Noodle.

Cousin: Wednesday Anne Drew’

Older than Hecate by a year, like Bryn. Unlike Bryn, they don’t get along well.

 Wednesday is very difficult and unlike the Ames’s, believes that they aren’t looking for living brothers. Is glad to be proven wrong but still is very negative.

Will help with the Vaults. Will complain about it.

Ravenclaw

Sister: Evangeline Louise Baker-Ames

A year younger than Hecate. It is so awkward at first and would be worse if they were in the same House but thankfully, she’s Ravenclaw, so it’s Sean’s problem.

They bond over a love of creatures and Quidditch.

Friends.

Faceclaim: No Idea

Pets: A tabby named Freddie, a Europeon Horned Owl name Persephone, and a crup named Pagur Ban. Pangur doubles as a service animal and alerts Hecate when she’s about to seize.

 FRIENDSHIPS 

Best Friends:

Rowan Khanna

Liz Tuttle

Skye Parkin.

Ben Copper

Andre Egwu

Close Friends:

Charlie Weasley

Bill Weasley

Penny Haywood.

Jae Kim

Murphy McNully.

Friends:

Chiara Lobasca.

Talbott Winger

Tonks

Acquaintances:

Badea Ali

Orion Amari.

Victor Katsuki.

Barnaby Lee.

It’s Complicated:

Tuliup Kasarau

Dormmates:

Nymphadora Tonks

Penny Haywood

Skye Parkin.

Unnamed Hufflepuff.

Rivals: Merula Snyde, Diego Caplan.

Enemies: R, Death Eaters, Rakepick.

 ROMANCE & CHILDREN 

Love Interest: Andre Egwu

Andre Egwu spent months working up the nerve to talk to the Cursebreaking family and decided that he liked them. Especially Hecate, she was so cool and sweet if a bit hot tempered and foul mouthed.

They didn’t start dating until their 4th year, mostly due to miscommunication and Andre mistakenly thinking Hecate was dating Murphy.

It took Murphy McNully  and Skye Parkin trapping them in the Announcers box and Skye screaming at them to,  “JUST SAY IT ALREADY, I’M SO SICK OF HEARING ABOUT IT!” for the confessions to happen.

They then become a power couple with Hecate being the “He said no pickles” one of the two.

They get married and have three children immediately after the war and support each other throughout their lives.

Future Daughter: Aisling Rowan Egwu.

Born at 11:58 pm  on May 25th 2001. One of a set of twins, apparently it runs in the family. She is 5 minutes (technically a day) older than Orla and exactly identical to her.

Aisling is a nice girl, definitely her father’s daughter. Becomes Ravenclaw’s seeker and wants to join the Holyhead Harpies  someday.

Alder Wand, Phoenix Feather core, 11 inches, and springy.

Future Daughter: Orla Lynn Egwu.

Born May 26th 2001 at 12:02am. 

Orla is a mix of both her parents, she has her father’s sweet temperament and her mother’s stubbornness.  In Ravenclaw with her sister, would like to be an Astronomer.

Holly Wand, unicorn hair core, 11 1/2 inches, and inflexible.

Future Son: Julian James Egwu AKA J.J.

Born April 3rd, 2003.

Julian is a quiet boy and generally keeps to himself, having only a few friends and an affinity for plants of all kinds. Hufflepuff like his mother and would like to own his own Wand Shop or at least work for one.

Pine Wand, Unicorn hair, 12 inches, and bendy.

 PERSONALITY 

Traits:

Positive: Intelligent, kind, helpful, levelheaded in a crises, and reliable..

Neutral: stubborn, protective, practical, sarcastic.

Negative: Quick temper, foul mouth, unforgiving, and irritable.

Favorites:

Color: Sea Blue

Food: Skerpikjøt (dried lamb eaten on bread like a sandwich). Rubin makes it for her.

Weather: Sunny weather with the temperature just right.

Books: Nancy Drew books, Rudyard Kipling’s ‘Just So’ stories, and the Jungle Book.

Hobbies: Watching Quidditch, reading, singing.

Music: The Beatles and most American Rock music.

Dislikes: Blood supremacy, Potions Class, puffskien’s, bullies, and willful ignorance.

Description: Hecate is generally kind so long as you don’t annoy her on purpose or hurt her family and likes to help people where she can. She is also reliable and will have your back no matter what. Just be prepared for cursing.

MBTI Description: “Few personality types are as practical and strong-willed as Executives. Known for their reliability and administrative skills, Executives are good at creating and maintaining a secure and stable environment for themselves and their loved ones. Executives’ dedication is invaluable in many areas, including their own personal growth.”

HISTORY & BACKGROUND 

Pre-Hogwarts Childhood:

Hecate’s childhood was tumultuous due to her parents divorce and Jacob running away. Her epilepsy was also triggered by terrifying visions (for the same reasons flashing lights will trigger seizures) and she was in and out of St. Mungo’s and muggle hospitals until they figured out what was wrong and prescribed potion to control it.

Due to her mother’s increasing neglect and one very dangerous seizure, Rubin took custody of Hecate and Sean.

After that, she had a much happier childhood with her strange yet kind eldest sister and her first best friend Liz Tuttle.

Hogwarts Years:

Trying to google everything would only frustrate me and waste my time, so I’m not going into detail.

Hecate has to give up the Vault search after Rakepick induces a seizure, which forces her to take it easy for awhile. She still helps her family though.

Second Wizarding War:

Due to the fact she was Rubin’s sibling and often spoke out against Death Eaters and Purist beliefs, this made her a target. 

In 1996, Rubin, Hecate, and Liz Tuttle fled to America. Hecate and Andre decided to find each other and get married after the war.

Hecate, along with the other two, help Fiadah shut down Death Eater influence in MAUSCA and Rubin arrests 12 death eater sleeper agents and kills 20. 

Hecate also helps place refugees with families or in their own homes. 

On May 4th, 1998, Hecate, Rubin, and Liz return to England and Hecate reunites with Andre. They get married in July of 1999.

Adulthood:

Hecate’s life was lively and fun after the war, spending several years as a commentator and then as Andre’s coaching assistant for Pride of Portree.

She and Andre have three children, Aisling, Orla, and Julian.

Death:

Hecate died after pneumonia complications at 105, the same day as Sean and a year after Andre’s death. Left behind her three children, ten grandchildren, and nine great grandchildren.

 MISCELLANEOUS 

Her favorite muggle sport to watch is Ice Hockey. She enjoys the occasionally pointless violence.

She, of course, supports Pride of Portree but will also root for the Wigtown Wanderers if Portree isn’t playing.

Doesn’t like Muggle movies much but loves TV shows, her favorite being Dr. Who.

Hecate is named after her ancestor Maran O’Malley (mother’s side)’

Template made by @unfortunate-arrow​

[meep9898]

“Thanks for the shakes Minerva! I’ve finally been hitting my goal physique.” The now muscular Will said flexing his arms. Turns out the shakes weren’t so cursed after all (besides the absolute load of caffeine in them)

All I could think of was Will going from this:

To this:

[hogwartsmysterydisaster]

☆ May Leon ☆

HPHM Character Profile

Template credit: @hogwartsmystory

IDENTITY

Full name: Maeve "May" Alice Leon, prefers to be called by her nickname May

Nickname: May (used by everyone)

Gender: Genderfluid female (she/they)

Age: 16

Birth Date: 10th March 1973

Species: Human

Blood Status: Half-Blood

Sexuality: Bisexual

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Ethnicity: Caucasian (Irish/Finnish)

Nationality: Irish-Finnish

Residence: Killarney, Ireland

Myer Briggs Personality Type: INFP-T / The Mediator

THE MAGE

1st Wand: 11", Hornbeam, Dragon heartstring, Quite flexible

2nd Wand: 11¼", Ebony, Dragon heartstring, Surprisingly swishy

Animagus: Sparrowhawk

Misc Magical Abilities: Legilimens; Great dueller; Good with magical creatures

Boggart Form: Being unable to protect the people she loves from the members of "R"

Riddikulus Form: Making the floor so wet that the members of "R" fall on their face

Amortentia: (What do they smell like?): coniferous forest, fresh mint, forest after rain, bonfire

Amortentia: (What do they smell?): Fresh air, green tea, pine trees, peat

Patronus: Cheetah

Patronus Memory: Meeting her best friend Rowan for the first time

Mirror of Erised: Being surrounded by her family and friends

Specialized/Favourite Spells: Depulso, Expecto Patronum, Wingardium Leviosa (lol)

APPEARANCE

Faceclaim (16 years old): Artbreeder

Faceclaim (12 years old): Artbreeder

Voiceclaim: Deep voice, irish accent

Game Appearance:

Height: 152 cm

Weight: 55 kg

Physique: Slightly curvy, strong, athletic

Eye Colour: Blue-grey

Hair Colour: Dirty blonde

Skin Tone: Light, tanned

Body Modifications: Pierced ears

Scarring: Has several (small) scars on her body

Inventory: Her wand, colorful scrunchies, a notebook, a peacock feather quill pen, creature food, reading glasses

Fashion: Her style varies between feminine and androgynous; mostly laid-back and sporty

ALLEGIANCES

Hogwarts House: Slytherin

Affiliations/Organizations: Slytherin House; Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; Circle of Khanna

Professions: Student, but aspires to become an auror or magizoologist after graduating Hogwarts

HOGWARTS INFORMATION

Class Proficiencies:

Astronomy: Exceeds Expectations (E)

Charms: Exceeds Expectations (E)

DADA: Outstanding (O)

Flying: Outstanding (O)

Herbology: Acceptable (A)

History of Magic: Poor (P)

Potions: Outstanding (O)

Transfiguration: Exceeds Expectations (E)

Divination: Dreadful (D)

Muggle Studies: Acceptable (A)

Quidditch: Slytherin Beater

Extra Curricular: Frog Choir (Years 3-4)

Favourite Professors: Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick

Least Favourite Professors: Severus Snape, Sybill Trelawney

RELATIONSHIPS

Brother: Jacob Leon

Faceclaim: Artbreeder

Father: Sullivan Leon (deceased)

Faceclaim: Artbreeder

Mother: Aina Leon (née Sorjonen)

Faceclaim: Artbreeder

Love Interest: Talbott Winger (currently); Barnaby Lee (formerly); Chiara Lobosca (formerly)

Best Friends: Rowan Khanna, Barnaby Lee, Chiara Lobosca, Jae Kim

Rival: Merula Snyde

Enemy: Patricia Rakepick, "R", Voldemort

Dormmates: Rowan Khanna, Liz Tuttle, Merula Snyde, Ismelda Murk

Pets: toad Hammy, owl Morgana, owlet Kirby, cat Jambo, rat Whiskers, puffskein Tsiggy, kneazle kitten Mew, crup puppy Pippin, kneazle Sir Howard, crup Toffy, lizard Smaug, bat Lemon, jackalope Flufferson, snail Stanley

PERSONALITY

Looks like a cinnamon roll, but could actually kill you

Introvert but not shy, will not shut up once you get to know her

Hard on the outside, soft on the inside

Sassy™

Doesn't care what anyone thinks of her

Creative, caring and kind (unless you're mean to her friends - then you should run)

Terrifying when angry

Adventurer at heart

Loves nature and all of its creatures

Bad liar

Terrible sense of humor

MISC

Her brother Jacob used to be her hero and best friend until he disappeared

Her father was an auror who was killed by a dark wizard he tried to catch. She was very young back then and never got over her father's death

She used to be very close with her father

She has a difficult relationship with her muggle mother, especially after her father's death and Jacob's disappearance

She spends only the summer holidays at home with her mother

She used to be very lonely child before meeting Rowan and attending Hogwarts

Writes poetry on her notebook, but feels embarassed about it and doesn't tell anyone - until she finds out that Talbott writes poetry as well, and it becomes their shared hobby

Her poems are Bad™ though, and sometimes Talbott makes fun of her questionable skills, which eventually evolves into their own inside joke

Potions class, Flying class and Care of Magical Creatures class are her favourite subjects at Hogwarts

She's a skillful dueller; her preferred duelling tactic is aggressive

Wants to be either an auror or a magizoologist when she grows up

Dark green and yellow are her favourite colours

She adores toads!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[fischerfrey]

HPHM character profile

Identity

Name: Verna Aelia Malinda

Gender: cis female

Age: Depends on the timeline

Birth Date: December 15th, 1972 (Sagittarius)

Species: Human witch

Blood Status: Half-blood but thought to be pureblood by the Wizarding community.

Sexuality: Lesbian

Alignment: Chaotic good

Ethnicity: Mixed (black mother, mixed father)

Nationality: British

Residence: The Malinda Manor, somewhere in the English countryside

Myer Briggs Personality Type: The Protagonist (ENFJ)

The Mage

1st Wand: Hornbeam, 11 inches, dragon heartstring, unyielding

2nd Wand: Ebony, 11 ¼ inches, dragon heartstring, unyielding

Animagus: Calico cat

Misc Magical Abilities: -

Boggart Form: Evil!Jacob turning against her.

Riddikulus Form: Evil!Jacob transforms into a tiny, angry kitten.

Amortentia: (What do they smell like?)

Fleetwood's High-Finish Broom Handle Polish

Caramel apples

The orchard behind her childhood home

Amortentia: (What do they smell?)

Nailpolish

Old books

Coffee

Patronus: Calico cat (same as animagus form)

Patronus Memory: A summer day at the Malinda manor when Verna was young, Jacob is teaching her to fly while her parents watch from the sidelines, happy and carefree.

Mirror of Erised: Her family back together again, everyone is safe and content.

Specialized/Favourite Spells: Depulso (the banishing charm), Incendio (the fire-making spell)

Appearance

(I don’t really 100% vibe with her in-game appearence since the hair selection for natural hair is not the best but I make do.)

Height: 5′10 (178cm)

Weight: like normal weight for an athletic girl that tall ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Physique: Athletic

Eye Colour: Blue

Hair Colour: Black

Skin Tone: Brown with warm undertones

Body Modifications: Earrings, nose ring (6th year onwards), a few tattoos as an adult

Scarring: -

Inventory: Wand, Merula’s gift necklace (5th year onwards), some cat treats for Osborn, random old homework and other pieces of parchment discarded at the bottom of her bag at all times, a bag of apple rings (her favourite sweets).

Fashion:

It’s 1984-1991 and I want jam city to let it show in their quest reward items!!!

Allegiances 

Hogwarts House: Gryffindor

Ilvermorny House: I don’t really vibe with Ilvermony so I have no idea xD

Affiliations/Organizations: Gryffindor house. Gryffindor quidditch team, Malinda family, Circle of Khanna, The Order of Phoenix

Professions: Worked as a Defence Against Dark Arts substitute teacher for a year shortly after Hogwarts, trained to be an auror for a while but dropped out due to disagreements with Ministry policy

Hogwarts Information

Class Proficiencies:

Astronomy: A

Charms: O

DADA: O

Herbology: A

History of Magic: P

Potions: A

Transfiguration: E

Electives:

Care of Magical Creatures: E

Muggle Studies: E

Quidditch:

Verna is the chaser of her house’s quidditch team for most of her Hogwarts career.

Extra-Curricular: Duelling club, Dragon club

Favourite Professors: Minerva McConagall

Least Favourite Professors: Severus Snape, Patricia Rakepick

Relationships

Brother: Jacob Aurelius Malinda

Growing up, Jacob was Verna’s hero. He is five years older than Verna but nevertheless they spent a great deal of time together as children, Jacob often babysitting his sister. Although he was never as much into Quidditch as Verna, he would spend hours teaching her to fly and even take her to watch matches a few years before his disappearance.

Although otherwise short-tempered and rash, Jacob had endless amounts of patience for Verna. With very absent parents, Jacob all but raised Verna from a young age and Verna trusted him to look after her more than their parents, which is why it was shocking to her when he disappeared without a word.

Father: Mervyn Malinda

The sole heir to the Malinda estate, Mervyn is an important character within the Wizard society. However, what the general public doesn’t know, is that he is, in fact, an illegitimate child with a muggle mother. This has been kept secret by his grandmother, father, and step-mother throughout his whole life. The only other person to know the truth since his birthmother’s passing is Juniper, his wife.

Mervyn works as the Head of The Department of Magical Transportation. He is not a very affectionate father, but he tries his best to support his children. Mervyn used to be a Gryffindor.

Mother: Juniper Malinda, née Raeburn

A prominent witch from the pureblood Raeburn family, Juniper married Mervyn Malinda out of love. She is a little eccentric and spends a lot of time working on her potions. For a time, the Malindas had a relatively peaceful life with their two children, up until Jacob went missing. After that, Juniper and Mervyn grew distant and started to argue a lot.

Juniper works as a potioneer and values learning, diligence, and holding onto what you believe. She used to be a Ravenclaw.

Love Interest: Merula Snyde

Verna and Merula start out as rivals but due to having to work together during their search for the cursed vaults, they are forced to spend time together. Both start to develop a crush on the other but are in complete and utter denial about it. Verna is the one to realize her feelings first, and she starts to antagonize Merula just to have tension-filled moments with her, which is a completely normal and rational approach to letting your crush know you like them.

Merula and Verna date in school and a while after it but eventually break up in the turmoils of the war. Depending on the version, they might end up together later on though.

(also, as a sidenote, i headcanon merula as like, really short so this dynamic is so much fun when verna is TALL)

Best Friend: Charlie Weasley

They both like Quidditch and are complete dorks. Worst pair of prefects Gryffindor has ever seen, totally incompetent at their job.

(Is this me projecting my love for Charlie into my OC? Absolutely yes and I have no regrets.)

Rivals: Merula Snyde, Patricia Rakepick

Enemy: Voldemort, R

Dormmates: Rowan Khanna, Skye Parkin, Eloise Montague, and  Yasmin Wakefield (the last two are my ocs just to fill the dorm for my fic but these spots are up for grabs if anyone wants to be dormmates!)

Pets: A black cat called Osborn

Closest Canon Friends: Charlie Weasley, Rowan Khanna, Ben Copper

Closest MC Friends:

Farrow Raeburn @threeon1match​

Verna’s cousin from her mother’s side of the family. He is a year younger than Verna and in Slytherin. They are nevertheless close, and Farrow has a huuuge crush on Verna’s cool, dragon-loving friend Charlie.

Background/History

Pre Hogwarts: 

Verna had a wealthy childhood in the countryside at the Malinda manor. She had a close friendship with her older brother who taught her to fly her first broom. Verna had a keen interest in learning spells even at a young age, and her parents would often find her using magic before she was allowed to (often with disastrous consequences). The year Verna was meant to start her studies at Hogwarts, her brother went missing and her mother became very distant, while her father acted as if nothing was wrong. Verna became determined to find and rescue her brother.

Hogwarts Years:

If I would get around to publishing my fic maybe you guys would find out!! But the basic skeleton of the storyline follows the game’s events, just modified to suit a different medium and sans all the dumb stuff!!

Order of the Phoenix / 2nd Wizarding War:

Verna works as a substitute teacher in Hogwarts for a year, after which she trains to become an auror. However, she doesn’t like the way things are run at the Ministry, so she quits and moves home to the Manor for a while, trying to figure out what to do with her life. Before she can come to any conclusions though, the Second Wizarding War starts to pick up speed and the secrets her family has kept all these years transform from dangerous to fatal. Verna is recruited into the Order of the Phoenix by her old friend Bill Weasley.

Verna reunites with many of her old friends from school while working in the Order. Her father is killed during the war and her relationship with her mother goes through a lot of turmoil.

Her ultimate fate is not set in stone and in some versions she dies during the war and in others she makes it.

Post-War:

Depends on whether she survives or not. If Verna lives, she will eventually find her path to a teaching position at Hogwarts OR a curse-breaking job with the (much-changed) Ministry.

She also reconciles with her ex Merula, and the two of them get together.

Personality

Positive attributes: caring, brave, selfless, confident, passionate, protective, resourceful. Negative attributes: impatient, impulsive, stubborn, cocky, reckless, competitive, short-tempered.

if you made it this far, wow! congrats! thank you!!!! i love you forever!!!