_{continued from @byakushisakura-rp​
-
”Given your blood soaked t-shirt, my apologies if I don’t believe you- can you take it off? Let me look at it, please.” Hermione asked gently,  her wand already in hand, “I’ve been helping Madam Pomfrey these last few weeks, she taught me quite a lot.” Nothing the girl hadn’t already passed over in her books, but learning the actual practice was always exciting.} 

_{continued from @tmvoldemort
-}

      Hermione held still, her breath caught in her throat, and she figured later she’d just have to cut all of her hair to get rid of the chunky blood that now caked them, “You say so, but it smells just as filthy.” She was capable of the most helpful small amount of wandless magic, and little step by step she managed to loose the cutting rope around her wrists, but she remained quiet and seemingly bound, “Is your objective to murder countless people in front of me… for what? What’s your point? Or are you warming up just to do the same to me?” 

trick-or-pete:

pocketpadfoot:

Holy crap so I just thought of this?? Amortentia smells like the things you love most, right? So if Voldemort is incapable of love, would that potion just have no scent to him? That’s so sad??

He literally doesn’t have a fucking nose

_@tmvoldemort

snamioneshipper:

spitcastle:

blakesmilitia:

i wonder if snape ever found out that hermione once set him on fire

Rise of the Portraits

LOL!

ventusdraconis:

• I probably already ship it
• not that I deliberately start rp’ing with people for the purposes of shipping, but if there’s chemistry, if there’s interesting interaction, then yeah, I probably ship it

you don’t have to ship it too; it’s fun to torture the muse with unrequited feelings okay

• I will never pressure you into a ship
• if you feel like i’m pressuring you, let me know and i’ll do my best to rectify the behavior
• if you want to ship a thing, pitch it to me. the answer is probably yes.
• that said, don’t assume it without at least mentioning it to me ooc first.
• ships are usually in their own separate verses unless we’ve discussed something else.
• if you ship with me I’ll ruin your life

xoxox i love you bbies

seafinnigan:

@she–knows-it-all from here

Send in 🍷 to walk in on my muse WASTED
–
Hermione had prepared for this moment with much care and anticipation, waiting until every house mate had gone down to the Quidditch field before uncovering her newly acquired wine bottles and procuring a goblet from the common room. Her very first sip (from the second bottle ) was taken before the Fat Lady suddenly twisted open, and Hermione made a futile attempt at hiding the bottle, but gave up when she was obviously unsuccessful, seeing as Seamus was staring straight at her. Deciding her best weapon to not her ratted on was bargaining, she smiled and held up the bottle, “I’ll share it with you if you don’t tell anyone.”

“I’ll share it with you if you don’t tell anyone.”

Maybe there was something wrong with Seamus, but he just wasn’t particularly interested in Quidditch these days. He’d tried to get into it, go to the match and be supportive of Dean, but after the first bit of sitting in the stands watching the game, he found he didn’t have any more energy to cheer along. He ducked out of the stadium and made his way back to the dormitory, where he had every intention in the world of climbing into bed and taking a long, long nap.

These plans were intercepted, however, when he entered Gryffindor tower to find Hermione, badly trying to conceal a bottle of wine and acting more than a little hammered. Hermione Granger. The most straight-laced, tight-arsed person he’d ever met, including McGonagall. Sitting in the common room, getting pissed on pilfered booze. Today was strange.

“Yeah, alright,” he agreed, taking the bottle and drinking straight from it. Jesus, wine was awful. He sat down on the sofa. “Wait. This isn’t entrapment, is it?”

“I mean, you’re the one who caught me drinking alcohol in school property, so you’re way more in position to entrap me.” Hermione let ou a laugh, feeling entirely more loose with the wine in her blood stream. Seamus was a nice guy from what she knew, which was very little, since most of their contact was only derivative of Harry and Quidditch ( something she was not all that keen into ). 

“Also, I like you. I know we don’t talk at all that much, but you seem like a cool dude and I don’t see why I shouldn’t share this with you.” She would probably want to forget the way she was acting now tomorrow, but for know, she focused dearly on duplicating the goblet she had in hand, letting out a snort at the result and excitedly showing it to Seamus, “Check this out! I duplicated the wine too!”

flirtysuggestion:

🤩 You’re amazing.

😍 You’re really cute.

😳 You’re beautiful.

😘 You’re sexy as hell.

🎀 I love your hair.

👁️ Your eyes are so pretty.

💃 You have a gorgeous body.

🍑 You have a nice ass.

☀️ I want to spend a whole day with you.

🛏️ I wish you were in my bed right now.

💗 I can never get enough of you.

⭐ You’re special to me.

💌 I miss you.

🤭 There’s something I want to tell you.

💘 Keep being so lovable and I’ll end up falling for you.

💕 I think we’d look good together.

📅 We should go out sometime.

sagamemes:

spots to kiss.   since y’all like kissing prompts—and who wouldn’t, honestly–so have a collection of places to press your lips to. many of these work perfectly fine for platonic or familiar affection while some are a bit steamier, though what counts as what is of course naturally dependent on the muses and the context. send ‘ SPOTS TO KISS + [number] ’ to kiss my muse there, or with # for dealer’s choice. context and description allowed and encouraged. feel free to use the last option  ( 56 )  to give the kiss on any fantasy or scifi body parts not listed here.

1. a kiss on the top of the head.
2. a kiss to hair.
   
3. a kiss on the forehead.
   
4. a kiss on the space between eyebrows.
   
5. a kiss on the temple.
   
6. a kiss on the cheek.
7. a kiss on the eyelid or the undereye.
   
8. a kiss on the ear.
   
9. a kiss on that space where jaw connects.
10. a kiss on the corner of the mouth.
    
11. a kiss on the cupid’s bow.
    
12. a kiss on the lips.
    
13. a kiss on the chin.
    
14. a kiss on the jawline.
    
15. a kiss on the back of the neck.
    
16. a kiss on the underside of the jaw.
    
17. a kiss on the throat.
    
18. a kiss on the side of the neck.
19. a kiss on where the back of the neck turns to shoulder.
    
20. a kiss above the collarbone.
    
21. a kiss along the collarbone.
    
22. a kiss on the space between collarbones.
    
23. a kiss on the shoulder.
    
24. a kiss on the bicep.
    
25. a kiss on the forearm.
    
26. a kiss on the elbow.
    
27. a kiss on the outside of the wrist.
    
28. a kiss on the inside of the wrist.
    
29. a kiss on the back of the hand.
    
30. a kiss on the palm.
    
31. a kiss on a finger.  ( which one? )
    
32. a kiss on the side of the ribs.
33. a kiss on the shoulder blade.
    
34. a kiss on the space between shoulder blades.
    
35. a kiss along the curve of the spine.
    
36. a kiss on the upper back.
    
37. a kiss on the lower back.
    
38. a kiss on the sternum.
    
39. a kiss on a pec / breast.
40. a kiss under the breast.
    
41. a kiss on where the sternum ends.
    
42. a kiss on the stomach.
    
43. a kiss on the navel.
    
44. a kiss on the hipbone.
    
45. a kiss on the ‘v’.
    
46. a kiss on the front of the thigh.
    
47. a kiss on the back of the thigh.
    
48. a kiss on the inner thigh.
    
49. a kiss on the knee.
    
50. a kiss on the calf.
    
51. a kiss on the ankle.
    
52. a kiss on the heel.
    
53. a kiss on the foot.
    
54. a kiss on a toe.
    
55. a kiss on an nsfw body part not listed here.  ( where? )
    
56. a kiss on a sfw body part not listed here.  ( where? )

prxvileged:

[she–knows-it-all]

     Hermione wanted to say it had been the worst two days of her life, but the saddest part was that it wasn’t. However it sure competed with might as she shifted for what felt like the billionthtime, the ache in her spine driving her nearly insane already. Pride and dignity had been the first casualties when she arrived at the manor, and the battered girl could do nothing more but sob quietly and continuously, every bone in her body bringing her agony. Her stomach rumbled almost as loud as her cries, and Hermione wasn’t sure how much more pain she could take, feeling herself withering slowly. As counteraction, she recited every potion recipe she’d ever learned, every Arithmancy formula she could remember, hoping the exercise would mitigate the effects of her captivity.

     The sound of the door was like the smoothest jazz song her father used to hear, and she twisted herself painfully to turn her wide eyed gazed to whoever entered. Lucius’ figure was extremely welcome to one side of her, while the other protested vehemently against that feeling,disgust raging inside. She was frantic to get out of the cage and seeing as he blocked her way, the only thing left was to obey him.

  Hermione put her arms out quickly and stared as the clasps closed tightly around her wrists, bringing a sense of relief and anxiety, along with a heavy feeling inside her chest, which helped her conclude her magic was blocked entirely. She suspected she couldn’t even walk straight anymore, and she attempted to get up only to stumble back down to the hard floor when her shaky, cramped legs couldn’t stand her ( very light ) weight.

     She now knew from experience it was useless to talk to the Death Eater, so she just waited for instruction as she straightened her bent back- a mixed felling of pain and pleasure.

He gives her a few seconds to stretch- not so much out of kindness as out of fear that she might be permanently crippled from being forced into that cage for the bigger part of 2 weeks. Once the aristocrat is convinced that Hermione is not going to fall over, he prods her with his cane– indicating for her to turn around for him so he can assess what state she’s in. 

“The Dark Lord has assigned you as my personal servant.” he says after a long silence && he doesn’t sound any more pleased with than she looks. 

“Those handcuffs- as you may have already noticed- will keep your magic bound, should you ever get into the foolish notion of trying to hex me.– nod if you understand all I’m saying.” 

He adds, smashing his cane into her chin a bit harder than necessary in warning. He is trying to taunt her- embarrass her to the point where she won’t even want to look him in the eyes.

“I will show you to a room where you can wash and sleep for the time being. Naturally, you will be sealed inside during any and all times that I do not require your services, but I do expect you to be presentable at all hours of the day- should I call upon you.”– with that, Lucius prompts her to start walking, deciding to get this over with as soon as possible.

      Hermione has quite a heavy limp from her left foot, consequence of a night her body forced itself to sleep and it remained cramped up against the bars of her cage. Shaky legs and barely any strength at all, she managed to drag herself to follow Malfoy, her entire body stiff and aching. Still, it did not hurt more than the Death Eater describing her new life. Being at call to Lucius Malfoy? 

      Hermione thought she might prefer the cage. 

      She remained silent, though. There was no use in protesting and her body in its current agony couldn’t take even one other strike from that bloody cane, or even from Malfoy’s own hands. The man was tall and so much bigger than her and it might be prudent to avoid any frustrations to his side, as much as Hermione hated the thought- it would be for her own well-being, an act of self-preservation alone.

      Specially since she knew damn well she wouldn’t be his slave for the rest of her now miserable life. Voldemort was an arrogant idiot with a too heavy dose of overconfidence- and in all honesty, not too much talent to follow that confidence up. If she didn’t manage to escape herself, her rescue was a sure thing, regardless of how long it took. Dumbledore may be gone but the Light had many extraordinary wizards and witches- unlike Voldemort’s legion that apparently seemed to accept everyone interested in the cause, which then resulted in an army of idiots. 

      Lost in thought, she barely noticed the many doors and rooms she passed through until they seemed to reach the living part of the manor. An elf, looking as frightened as a kicked pup, grabbed the edge of her jeans by the ankle and started pulling her through more and more corridors until they finally arrived at a single ebony door by the end of a long, long hall. 

      Out of breath from the first exercise in two weeks, Hermione allowed herself to drop on the bed, almost crying at the soft feeling of cotton sheets. As much as sleep wanted to consume her, her skin crawled for a shower and with much will she fell away from the bed, dragging her sorry hide into the bathroom. 

      Ignoring Malfoy would become a sport to her, she decided.