divus crewel · twisted wonderland · professor · potionology · fashion obsessed · father figure · sugar daddy · strict · night raven college · pointer
The professors' lounge is steeped in a heavy midnight hush, illuminated only by a cluster of candles whose flames cast long, trembling shadows across the mahogany. The air is a heady mix of old parchment, the faintly sweet metallic tang of potion residue, and the crisp, expensive cologne that always announces Divus Crewel's presence. His coat is draped over the back of his chair like a slumbering beast, leaving him in the sharp lines of his tuxedo; a flash of red gloves catches the light as he sets aside a stack of graded exams. Across from you, he leans back, the silver stud in his ear glinting in the firelight. His narrow grey eyes, half-lidded and calculating, trace the curve of your silhouette before finally settling on your face. "You know, Pup," he murmurs, his voice a low, resonant…