#mc potions

[twstyuna]

Intrusive thought

Maybe epilogue to this lol.

[quaranmine]

How long does that potion last?

Hi! Here's a guide I wrote for how long Minecraft potions last in approximation with real time. This is for Java edition only, and hopefully will be useful in stuff like fanfiction.

For reference, a full Minecraft day is 20 minutes in-game. That's 10 minutes of daytime, 3 minutes of dawn/dusk, and 7 minutes of night. I will be equating 10 minutes of daytime = 12 hours of a real-life day. I'm calculating this via comparing percentages, so let me know if I have messed up the math. Potion times are from the wiki and instant potions such as healing or harming are left out for obvious reasons.

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20-22 second potions: Potion of Slowness IV; Potion of the Turtle Master I and II; Potion of Poison II; Potion of Regeneration II

Lasts approximately 0.396 hours real-time, or 23 minutes and 46 seconds (for 20 seconds potion length)

40-45 second potions: Potion of Poison; Potion of the Turtle Master +; Potion of Regeneration

Lasts approximately 0.9 hours real-time, or 54 minutes (for 45 seconds potion length)

1.5 minute potions: Potion of Regeneration +; Potion of Swiftness II; Potion of Strength II; Potion of Leaping II; Potion of Slow Falling; Potion of Poison +; Potion of Weakness; Potion of Slowness

Lasts 1.8 hours real-time, or 1 hour and 48 minutes

3 minute potions: Potion of Swiftness; Potion of Fire Resistance; Potion of Night Vision; Potion of Strength; Potion of Leaping; Potion of Water Breathing; Potion of Invisibility

Lasts 3.6 hours real-time, or 3 hours and 36 minutes.

4 minute potions: Potion of Slow Falling +; Potion of Weakness +; Potion of Slowness +

Lasts 4.8 hours real-time, or 4 hours and 48 minutes.

5 minute potions: Potion of Luck

Lasts 6 hours real-time.

8 minute potions: Potion of Swiftness +; Potion of Fire Resistance +; Potion of Night Vision +; Potion of Strength +; Potion of Leaping +; Potion of Water Breathing +; Potion of Invisibility +

Lasts 9.6 hours real-time, or 9 hours and 36 minutes.

Tipped arrows, according to the wiki, last 1/8th the time of their corresponding potion if applicable. Since that might vary, I'm not going to calculate them all here.

Go forth and have fun writing! I wrote this post nearly 2 years ago, drafted it, and forgot about it. I hope it can be of some use for writers.

[solomiracle]

outside of "adorable apprentice", solomon doesn't use that many nicknames for you.... uuuuuuuntil he's in trouble. then it's suddenly "hello my astounding and beautiful beacon of hope and light!! have i ever told you that i don't miss the sun because you shine brighter than it every single day-"

"solomon."

"my star, i fear that even with immortality, i still wouldn't have enough time in this life to say every single thing i love about you-"

"there is a hole in the ceiling."

"my joy i would die for you-"

"simeon texted me everything."

"tattle >:( i love you btw :)"

[ryllen]

i have no other reason of drawing this, other than i just want to

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

mc messing with sebastian when they are Professor Black, I need it, please. I image mc going Mr. Sallow I've heard you and our new fifth year are sneaking out together. I hope nothing improper is happening. I wouldn’t wish to have to oversee a wedding during my time as headmaster.

Polyjuice Potion | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

BAHAHAHAH I STARTED WORKING ON THIS IMMEDIATELY BECAUSE THIS IS HILARIOUS, THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!!

Words: ~2,100

Tags: Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, No Hogwarts House, Humor

The Polyjuice Potion had worked—perhaps a little too well.

You examined your reflection in the polished surface of a nearby suit of armor, recognizing yourself as Phineas Nigellus Black, the ever-ill-tempered, egotistical headmaster of Hogwarts. The pinched expression, the stiff posture, the perpetual air of disdain—it was all there. Even the scent of expensive cologne and the faintest trace of ink clung to the borrowed robes.

A smirk curled at your lips. Oh, this was going to be fun.

With an exaggerated gait befitting your new persona, you made your way through the halls, relishing the way students shrank back at your approach. Their hushed whispers and wary glances only fed your growing amusement.

The plan had been simple: borrow the headmaster’s form, strut around the castle unchecked, and slip into the Restricted Section of the library to retrieve a book you and Sebastian needed for your latest round of mischief. But when you happened to spot him lounging against a pillar in the Transfiguration Courtyard, casually chatting with a nervous-looking first-year, an even better idea formed in your mind.

You and Sebastian were newly courting, a fact that thrilled and terrified you in equal measure. There had always been something between you—something charged, something exhilarating—but now? Now your nightly post-curfew meetings had tipped over into the territory of... inappropriate. From late-night rendezvous in the Undercroft to the hours spent whispering in hushed tones behind stacks of books and the absolutely improper things he had said to you just last night beneath the Forbidden Forest’s canopy, it was a miracle you hadn’t already been caught.

And seeing him now, with your identity hidden, provided the perfect opportunity to push his buttons—and perhaps, make him think you had been caught in the act, after all.

With deliberate, booming steps, you approached, clearing your throat with all the authority you could muster.

“Mr. Sallow.”

Sebastian stiffened immediately, snapping to attention. The first-year beside him went rigid, then bolted without a word, leaving Sebastian standing alone, blinking up at you—well, at Professor Black—with rapidly dawning concern.

“Professor,” he greeted, schooling his features into careful neutrality.

You clasped your hands behind your back, surveying him with the kind of imperious air you imagined the real headmaster would use. “I have been informed of certain… late-night escapades involving you and our new fifth-year student.”

Sebastian’s expression flickered—so fast that most wouldn’t have caught it. A tightening of his jaw. A twitch of his fingers.

But you did.

“I don’t know what you mean, sir,” he said smoothly, ever the picture of a model student.

“Oh, don’t be coy, Mr. Sallow.” You tilted your chin, enjoying the way his confidence wavered. “I am well aware of the frequent, shall we say, disappearances you and your companion have orchestrated.”

Sebastian blinked. Then, to your delight, his composure cracked just a fraction more. “Disappearances?”

“Yes.” You let the word drag, savoring it. “Discreet meetings. Secluded alcoves. Library corners far removed from prying eyes.” You paused for effect. “Surely, you don’t think the faculty are so blind?”

Sebastian was staring at you now, eyes darting around as if trying to determine just how much you knew—or rather, how much ‘Black’ knew. The corners of his ears were already turning pink.

You pressed on. “One might begin to wonder if these outings are of an… inappropriate nature.”

Sebastian choked.

Actually choked.

His composure—so carefully maintained, so effortlessly wielded in the face of authority—shattered like glass. He coughed violently, eyes widening in what could only be described as pure, undiluted horror.

“Inappropriate?” he managed, voice an octave higher than usual. “Sir, I—”

You held up a hand, cutting him off. “Now, now, Mr. Sallow, let us not be hasty in our denials.” You paced in a slow circle around him, watching the way his shoulders squared, the way his fingers twitched at his sides. “If, hypothetically, a situation were to arise—say, one resulting in an unexpected addition to the Hogwarts population—well, naturally, a marriage would be required.”

Sebastian’s mouth fell open.

“You mean a— a baby?!” he sputtered, looking positively scandalized. “What—no! That’s not—Sir, you have completely misunderstood—”

“I do hope so, for your sake.” You exhaled, shaking your head in mock disappointment. “It would be rather tedious, wouldn’t it? Organizing a ceremony, ensuring the Ministry is properly notified… And of course, the matter of parental consent.” You tutted. “Although, given your companion's… unfortunate lack of proper guardianship, I suppose we’d have to settle the matter internally. A pity, really.”

Sebastian’s ears were no longer pink; they were burning red.

“Sir,” he tried, his voice betraying the barest hint of a waver, “with all due respect, I—”

“Oh, but I must admit, the match does seem fitting.” You clasped your hands, peering down at him as if contemplating it seriously. “Our new fifth-year has certainly reined in that reckless streak of yours. A strong-willed partner to temper your unfortunate disregard for authority.” You sighed dramatically. “Perhaps it is not such a poor idea after all.”

Sebastian looked about two seconds from passing out. His mouth opened and closed, searching for a response but clearly coming up short. He was no doubt replaying every single one of your late-night meetings in his mind, tallying up just how scandalous they must seem from an outsider’s perspective.

You had never seen him so utterly speechless.

“Sir, I assure you, we are not—”

You hummed, tilting your head. “Not yet, perhaps.” Then, as if just coming to a realization, you gasped. “Or is it that you wish it were so?”

Sebastian made an awful noise—somewhere between a strangled yelp and a groan of agony. His hands twitched uselessly at his sides, like he was caught between gesturing wildly in protest and gripping his own hair in frustration.

“Sir—”

"What is it, Sallow? Spit it out, will you."

Sebastian swallowed hard, his usual bravado entirely abandoned. "Sir, I—this is—it's not what you think!"

You raised a single, unimpressed eyebrow. "Oh? Enlighten me, then. What exactly do you think I think?"

Sebastian floundered, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. "We—we were just studying!"

You exhaled heavily, as though exhausted by the sheer absurdity of his excuse. "Studying?" you echoed, dryly. "In the dead of night? In hidden corners of the castle? With your hands where, exactly?"

Sebastian made another strangled noise, looking truly panicked now. You almost felt bad for him.

Almost.

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. He had no idea. Absolutely no clue. And it was delicious.

"Sir," he finally managed, voice cracking just a little. "I swear on Merlin’s grave, I have never—my hands have never—!"

Liar.

"Mmm." You narrowed your eyes at him, pretending to consider his words. "So you deny any inappropriate conduct with our new student? Any late-night whispers? Any—"

A voice rang out from behind you.

"Professor Black?"

You turned sharply on your heel, schooling your features into the most severe, disapproving expression you could muster. Ominis Gaunt stood a few paces away, his wand held aloft, his pale eyes blinking as he gauged the situation. His usual neutrality was in place, but you knew him well enough to detect the faint exasperation lingering beneath the surface.

As if he were already wondering what the hell Sebastian had done this time.

"Ah, Mr. Gaunt," you greeted, letting the headmaster’s usual tone of clipped condescension seep into your voice. "Excellent timing. I was just having a most illuminating discussion with your dear friend."

Ominis tilted his head ever so slightly, expression betraying a flicker of curiosity. "Sir?"

Sebastian, still reeling from your interrogation, turned to Ominis with wide, pleading eyes. The look clearly screamed: Help me.

You clasped your hands behind your back and resumed your slow, authoritative pacing. "Tell me, Mr. Gaunt, are you aware of your friend’s nightly disappearances with our newest fifth-year?"

Ominis frowned slightly. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean, Headmaster."

You hummed, turning to regard him with a sharp, scrutinizing gaze. "Is that so? And yet, I have been informed that Mr. Sallow has been... rather indiscreet in his late-night activities with her."

Sebastian choked again, making another strangled sound of distress. Ominis, for his part, merely exhaled through his nose, looking deeply unimpressed. "Sir, I can assure you, whatever you've heard has been exaggerated."

"Oh?" You arched a brow. "So you deny that Mr. Sallow has been sneaking about the castle at all hours, engaging in clandestine meetings?"

Ominis remained impassive. "Sebastian has always been prone to wandering, sir. It’s hardly a new development."

Sebastian latched onto that defense like a lifeline. "Exactly! I just—wander. Aimlessly. Like a—like a ghost!"

Ominis sighed. "Not helping, Sebastian."

You clasped your chin in mock contemplation, as if seriously weighing their words. "I see. And if I were to question our new fifth-year about these wandering excursions, would they give me the same answer?"

Sebastian blanched. Ominis, however, remained eerily calm.

"Undoubtedly," Ominis said smoothly. "And, if I may be so bold, sir, surely the Headmaster has far more pressing matters to concern himself with than the idle movements of two students?"

You narrowed your eyes at him. Clever. Too clever. Ominis knew how to handle authority far too well.

But you weren’t done yet.

You sighed heavily, shaking your head. "Mr. Gaunt, as Headmaster it is my duty to ensure the propriety of all student conduct—especially when it comes to matters of… courtship.”

Sebastian, who had been clinging to Ominis' defense like a drowning man to driftwood, practically flinched at the word.

“Sir, we’re—there’s no—” he croaked.

You cut him off with a sharp wave of your hand, shifting your gaze back to Ominis, whose composed expression now held the barest trace of tension. “Surely, Mr. Gaunt, you, of all people, can appreciate the need for… structure, when it comes to matters of the heart. A proper match. A respectable arrangement.” You sighed, feigning concern. “But alas, young love is so often reckless. Thoughtless. Irresponsible.” You clasped your hands behind your back and shook your head gravely. “Which is why I fear Mr. Sallow is on course to... how shall I say it? Ruin his own future prospects.”

Sebastian, who had already been pale, seemed to turn an even more ghostly shade. “Sir, I—I don’t understand.”

“Oh, but it is quite simple, Mr. Sallow,” you continued smoothly. “Should a scandal arise—an unfortunate circumstance, let’s say—there would be consequences. A proper course of action would have to be taken.”

Sebastian’s eyes flickered wildly between you and Ominis, looking more and more like a cornered animal.

Ominis, who had been handling this entire exchange with relative poise, finally faltered. “Sir, surely—”

“Yes, yes, I know,” you interrupted, waving a hand in exasperation. “You’ll both insist that nothing untoward has occurred. But I must consider appearances, Mr. Gaunt. And if Hogwarts were to find itself at the center of an improper affair, well, we would have no choice but to ensure all parties involved were secured in a respectable manner.”

Sebastian made a sound so strangled it barely qualified as human.

Ominis, for the first time, looked genuinely speechless. His mouth opened slightly, then closed again as though he had completely lost the ability to formulate words.

You clasped your hands behind your back, nodding in a manner you hoped conveyed utmost seriousness. “Yes, yes. A proper arrangement. Ensuring the integrity of all involved parties.” You let the silence stretch, watching as Sebastian struggled to form a coherent response.

“Sir, that is—” Sebastian finally managed, his voice cracking. “That’s completely unnecessary! I assure you, we have done nothing inappropriate!”

“Oh?” You arched a brow, unimpressed. “So you deny any late-night rendezvous? Any secluded meetings?”

Sebastian groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “I—yes, I mean, no! I mean—we weren’t—oh, for Merlin’s sake!”

Ominis, ever the composed one, finally seemed to regain his ability to speak. “Sir, if I may, I truly do not believe this warrants such drastic measures.”

You hummed, considering. “Perhaps. But one cannot be too careful. The reputation of this institution, and our new fifth year, is at stake.” You turned a sharp gaze to Sebastian. “You do care about your companion’s reputation, don’t you, Mr. Sallow?”

Sebastian looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. “Of course I do!”

“Then it is settled,” you said with finality. “Should any… unfortunate rumors arise, we will be prepared to handle the situation appropriately.”

Sebastian groaned again, looking pleadingly at Ominis, who, for once, had no retort prepared. He merely rubbed his temple, looking as though he too wished to vanish from existence.

With that, you turned on your heel, sweeping away with the same imperious air Phineas Nigellus Black was known for, leaving behind a thoroughly scandalized Sebastian Sallow and an utterly exasperated Ominis Gaunt.

And the second you were out of sight, you bolted, biting down hard on your knuckles to keep from cackling out loud.

Oh, that had been worth every single second.

[sychenb]

I feel like if ChavSeb was 'love potion-ed' he would be a huge cryer. Like an absolute mess. I think RD would handle his better ,rather than if it was the other way around, because she knows how embarrassing he might get. She'd try to calm him down and 'indulge' him here and there, mostly to keep another crying episode at bay.

[ps-cactus]

MC having the time of their life thinking they're being so in character and so unsus walking around the school like this.

Also literally everyone they meet:

[astro-stars]

is it real? TWST

It was another average day at Night Raven College, or at least as average as days could be at a magical academy. Yuu, the Prefect of Ramshackle Dorm, had been minding her own business in the alchemy lab when disaster struck. A misfired potion from Ace—unsurprisingly—resulted in a cascade of chaotic reactions, one of which ended with Yuu being engulfed in a suspiciously glittery cloud of smoke.

Yuu coughed as the sparkles dissipated, her classmates staring at her in a mix of concern and curiosity. At first, she felt fine—no sudden tail growth or transformation into an animal. But by the time lunch rolled around, she began noticing something... strange. Her thoughts, usually kept securely locked behind her shy demeanor, were slipping out of her mouth unfiltered.

She realized this when she passed by Vil in the cafeteria and blurted, “How do you manage to look so flawless even when you’re eating? Like, do you have a beauty aura or something?” Vil had merely raised an eyebrow and smirked, but Yuu had slapped her hands over her mouth in horror and hurried to her usual table.

Now seated with Ace, Deuce, and Jack, Yuu was doing her best to keep quiet and not embarrass herself further. But as the conversation meandered from homework to random gossip, her mind betrayed her once more.

“Hey, Jack,” she said suddenly, interrupting a perfectly normal discussion about next week’s flying class. “Is anything about the omegaverse real?”

The table went silent.

Ace choked on his juice, and Deuce froze mid-bite, his forkful of mashed potatoes hanging in the air. Jack’s ears twitched, and his normally composed demeanor faltered as he blinked at her in disbelief.

“W-What?” Jack stammered, his tail flicking nervously behind him.

Yuu’s brain screamed at her to shut up, but the words just kept coming. “I mean, you’re a beastman, and you’ve got, like, heightened senses and stuff, right? So is there, like, some truth to all that—” she waved her hands vaguely, “you know, alpha, beta, omega dynamic stuff? Like, do beastmen have… you know, special instincts or…?”

Jack’s face turned an alarming shade of red. “That’s not—we don’t—what are you even talking about?!” he sputtered, clearly flustered.

Ace was wheezing with laughter by now, practically collapsing onto the table. “Oh my Seven, Prefect, I didn’t know you had it in you! What kind of books are you reading?!”

Deuce, ever the earnest one, looked genuinely distressed. “Yuu, are you feeling okay? That potion accident earlier… maybe it’s messing with your head.”

“Yeah, that must be it,” Yuu mumbled, burying her face in her hands. “Oh my god, why did I say that?”

Jack, still recovering from his embarrassment, crossed his arms and avoided eye contact. “For the record, no, nothing about that… weird fiction stuff is true,” he muttered. “Beastmen are just… normal people with some different traits. That’s all.”

“Good to know,” Yuu said weakly, wishing she could sink into the floor and disappear.

“I think we need to take you back to the lab,” Deuce said, his expression one of genuine concern. “Maybe Professor Crewel can fix whatever’s going on with you.”

“Please,” Yuu groaned, still hiding her face. “The sooner, the better.”

As Ace continued to laugh and Jack tried to regain his composure, Yuu resolved to never set foot in the alchemy lab again. At least, not without a sturdy protective barrier between herself and any of Ace’s future experiments.

TAGLIST: @lunasmisosoup @soramcduckahyucky

DIVIDER: me :)

[brain-deadx0]

I love the show The Librarians but I never can forgive the writers for making an entire episode about Ezekiel Jones going through trauma after trauma, learning so many things and growing so much as a person as he fights through a time loop looking for some way to save everyone, having him succeed in saving everyone but himself, and for his fellow Librarians who only know the last loop to bring him back BUT HE HAS NO MEMORIES FROM HIS TIME IN THE TIME LOOP!

Just a character reset and I was so pissed. They didn't even allude to him actually remembering but pretending not to!

[cursedonyx]

Hii! I saw your ideas for one shots you posted recently and I would absolutely LOVE to read all of them, but especially the one with Ominis, where Garreth slips Ominis his new potion and MC is helping Ominis with its 'hard' effects 🤭

So if you have time and if you'd want to write it, I would love to read it! ❤️

I have FINALLY gotten around to doing this ask, and as I’d had this in my drafts for ages I thought why not make it an eleventh-hour post for Kinktober too? I would have done more for Kinktober but, like our favourite old faithful that hasn’t been charged in a while, my smut battery was firmly depleted for quite some time.

This doesn’t follow any specific Kinktober prompt, but what the hell, hopefully you all enjoy this little tale of poor Ominis being utterly humiliated and thoroughly fucked.

Masterlist

Don’t Drug Your Friends

(Unless They’re Ominis and in Need of a Good Fucking)

Synopsis – After a multitude of experimental potions and a variety of undesirable effects, no one at Hogwarts wants to be a guineapig for Garreth’s new brews. In desperation, Garreth resorts to underhanded methods in order to test his newest concoction, and slips it into Ominis’ tea. Unfortunately for the poor Heir of Slytherin, the effects are both humiliating and unconquerable until the woman he’s secretly been in love with for the last two years offers to help put the proverbial basilisk back to sleep.

Word Count – 4.9k

Warnings – Female MC, House unspecified, NSFW, MDNI, dubcon, drugging, masturbation, handjob M!Receiving, oral M!Receiving, PIV, and a very embarrassed and needy Sub!Ominis.

All characters aged 18+.

Happy Kinktober.

Springtime at Hogwarts was a time for most students to pretend they were studying, as they instead dreamt about who they were going to ask on a date to Hogsmeade for Valentines, gossiped about the latest scandals, or got hyped for Quidditch. For the seventh years, it was a time to begin to panic about their upcoming exams and pretend they weren’t.

For Garreth Weasley, it was more a struggle than for most. Since the end of sixth year, when he’d convinced Lucan Brattleby to try his latest potion, and the poor lad had ended up in the Hospital Wing with scales, feathers, and the ability to burp luminous, sausage-like bubbles that took days to pop, the entirety of Gryffindor House had put a blanket ban on accepting so much as a biscuit from him. The other houses learned very quickly after this that no matter how much gold he offered, no matter how many favours, no matter how much he begged, it just wasn’t worth spending a week in hospital for.

But Garreth knew the only way to discover ✨The Perfect Potion™✨ was to practice, practice, practice, and in order to make sure his experiments actually achieved what he thought they should, he needed to test them. He always made sure he had a few poison antidotes on hand just in case, so he wasn’t entirely sure what all the fuss was about.

So it was that Sebastian and Ominis found themselves accosted by the boisterous redhead one early February morning in their seventh year, in the Defence Against the Dark Arts Tower.

“Seriously, Sallow, I’ll pay you fifty galleons. Fifty! Think what you could do with that money!”

“Fuck off,” came the terse reply. “I said no eight times already, I’m not going to change my mind.”

“But if I can get this to work ahead of Valentines-”

“Unclog your ears, Weasley, he said no,” Ominis said, using his wand to pour a cup of tea with the cool indifference only a Slytherin pureblood seemed able to master.

Garreth narrowed his eyes. “I’d have thought you’d jump at the chance, Gaunt. Heard your family’s fallen on hard times.”

“It’s no secret,” Ominis said, supremely unbothered. Then, a tiny smirk touched his lips. “That said, I’m surprised you’ve got fifty galleons to offer in your entire family’s account.”

Unlike Ominis, Garreth was just a little bit touchy about his family’s fortunes. He needed to make this potion work ahead of Valentine’s so he could sell it for a huge profit! It would be so popular and he’d be rich and famous and would be able to make sure all his family were comfortable, what was so wrong about that?

Perhaps this was why Garreth decided to do what he did. Maybe he was just in a bad mood and wanted to cause a bit of trouble. Or maybe, just maybe, he was having withdrawals from seeing his potions at work and was determined to do anything to get his creation tested. He pretended to see Peeves causing havoc on the other side of the Tower, and when Sebastian turned to look, he upended the tiny, pink potion into Ominis’ tea.

He shared a grin with Leander, and groped for a notepad as Ominis picked up his cup.

“Alright, fine, suit yourselves. But it would have made an absolute killing, and I’d have given you commission for your help,” he said, trying to be nonchalant.

“Whatever.” Sebastian rolled his eyes. “I’ve enough to be worrying about without dealing with beetles falling out of my ears, thanks.”

Ominis shook his head and sipped his tea, closing his eyes at the warmth that slid past his lips and down his throat. He let his mind wander a little, and as it always did when he let it have some form of free reign, it landed squarely on the most incredible woman he’d ever known, the Hero of Hogwarts, for whom he had harboured a secret, burning love since their ill-fated trip to the Scriptorium.

A slim line appeared between his brows as the warmth from the tea seemed to settle under his collar, before spreading over his chest, creeping down his torso to pool between his thighs, and something began to stir.

Ominis, like any other man of his age, was no stranger to random bouts of wilful disobedience from his personal basilisk, and so he elected to ignore it, crossing an elegant leg over the other, hoping no one else had noticed. He took a slow breath and another drink, wondering vaguely why this particular standing to attention was coupled with something that felt concerningly like arousal. Yes, thinking of her certainly fired him up him like nothing else did, but he hadn’t been thinking of anything particularly ungentlemanly. He was in public, after all.

His hands tightened on his cup as the unspecified heat began to intensify, his half-mast blooming full, and as he heard Garreth leaning forward in his chair, and the scratch of quill on parchment, he began to put two and two together.

Uh-oh.

“Soooo…” Garreth said, in a voice so overly casual that it sent a thrill of fear through anyone in the vicinity that had recently had a drink. “How are we all feeling today? Normal? Bit hot under the collar? Thinking of anyone in particular?”

Ominis faced him, quite certain that steam might be curling up from under his shirt as his heart began to pound.

“What have you done?” he managed.

Garreth laughed. “Only what I had to. Don’t worry, the effects won’t last more than a few hours. I think.”

There was a clatter as Sebastian lunged across the low table, followed by a smash as the teapot shattered. Garreth yelped as Sebastian gripped handfuls of his robes and wrenched him out of his seat.

“What did you do?” he demanded, snarling.

“I needed to test my potion,” Garreth said, shoving him back. “Just slipped him a bit, that’s all!”

“What the fuck do you mean, you slipped him a bit!?” Sebastian barked. “What the hell is it meant to do?”

“I’m not sure yet, that’s why I needed to test it,” Garreth said, proudly. “It’s only a variant of a love potion that’s meant to make anyone you like want you in bed, nothing to worry about. Gaunt, tell me exactly what you’re feeling, spare no detail.”

“Are you insane?” Ominis hissed, hunching forward as his arousal twitched, nudging insistently against his belt and threatening to pop right out over the top of his waistband. “You better have an antidote for this, you cretin!”

Garreth gulped and edged behind Leander as Sebastian drew his wand, aiming it at his nethers. “Antidote? It’s only in the testing stages, I’ve not had time to-” he yelped as Sebastian fired a curse at him, and Leander had to put out a small fire on his robes.

Ominis felt his cheeks sear as another thrum of unspecified interest surged through him, his mouth drying. There was an insistent, needy ache growing in his lower abdomen, and he got the feeling that if he didn’t take care of it soon, he was going to be in serious trouble. It didn’t help that he could sense his friends staring at him, Garreth’s lack of subtlety and his shortening breath all but confirming the state he was in.

“Undercroft,” he managed to growl to Sebastian out of the corner of his mouth. “Don’t follow me.”

“You okay?” Sebastian asked, as Ominis tugged his robes tight about himself and rose.

“I’ll be fine,” he muttered, trying to stand as casually as he could without revealing his significantly growing problem. “Do try not to kill that little bastard while I’m gone, I’d like to do it myself.”

The cool of the Undercroft’s stone walls did little to alleviate the heat in his body as Ominis shouldered his way through the hidden entrance, his pace increasing as he half ran towards a stack of crates at the back, positioned deliberately to hide a pile of cushions and blankets for the rare instances when he just couldn’t ignore his body’s needs. Ominis hissed between his teeth and turned his wand about the Undercroft, hoping that she wasn’t down here. Merlin, he’d never live it down if she saw him like this.

Hell, it was embarrassing enough to be in this predicament, but for his friends to know as well! The thought scalded him, making him cringe. It was worse that they knew why he’d gone off by himself. Yes, everybody did it, but that didn’t mean everyone should bloody know about it when he did! It was hard enough to find alone time as it was, but for anyone else to know… Ominis groaned. With the way gossip spread, the whole bloody castle would know that the infamously stoic Ominis Gaunt had needed to dash off and have a wank by the time he reemerged, if his past luck was anything to go by.

No matter. The state he was in, it wouldn’t take long, and then he could try and forget about the whole, sordid mess. After he’d murdered Garreth, of course.

He sucked a sharp breath between his teeth, bracing a hand against the wall as his mind flooded with thoughts of her, as it always did when he needed to attend to himself. He focused on the faint brush of her hand against the back of his when they studied together, her fingertips cool as she handed him a book or stack of parchment, each light touch sending sparks through his skin that never failed to stiffen his cock. He whimpered softly as he recalled those few times he let her embrace him, his attention always zeroing in on how her ample breasts pressed against his chest, his hands resting just above the curve of her hip. What he wouldn’t give to feel these things without the cursed barrier of her clothes…

And Merlin, the sound of her voice, low and rich, some sultry note always winding about underneath it, as if she was but a moment away from singing or whispering nothing but sinful filth into his ear, her dark chuckles, the freedom of her laughter never failing to set his heart to racing.

Then the scent of her hair… citrus and exotic blossoms from some far off, sun-drenched land infused his mind as he wished and wished he knew what it was like to have those silken strands fall over his face as she rode him.

Ominis fought with his belt and the fastenings of his trousers, unable to stop thinking about her, imagining all those things she could do to him that would only ever be in his mind. She was too good for him, too perfect, too glorious, but it never hurt to imagine. Imagination never hurt anyone. His lower lip found its way between his teeth as he took himself in his hand, instinctively setting up a rapid pace that, when he’d been this worked up before, had brought him blissful relief in little under a minute.

But something was wrong. He could feel his hand sliding along his length, feel the pressure as he tightened his grip, but it brought him about as much relief as sticking it in a jar of numbing potion would have.

“Oh, come on,” Ominis hissed, gripping himself tighter in a vain effort to evoke some of the promised euphoria such an act usually provided him, even going so far as to spit in his palm, but it didn’t work. To his horror, it served only to heighten his need, and brought him no relief.

✧˖°  ˖ * ˖�� °˖✧

Almost an hour later, Ominis emerged, limping and red-faced, his breathing ragged and his hair dishevelled, his cloak pulled tight about his body.

“Well?” Garreth asked, eagerly, quill and notepad at the ready.

“Piss off,” Ominis snarled. “If you can’t get me an antidote in the next five minutes then what good are you?”

Sebastian shouldered Garreth out of the way and leaned in close.

“No better?”

“Fuck off. I don’t want anyone near me.”

“What about New Girl?” Leander piped up, clearly enjoying himself far more than was appropriate for the Slytherin’s suffering. “Bet you wouldn’t mind her being around you right now.”

Ominis spat a string of violent curses in Parseltongue at the thought of the Hero of Hogwarts assisting him with his predicament once again, before he tried to push away the idea as it sent another painful thrum of arousal through him. Unfortunately, the idea of her didn’t want to be banished and remained stubbornly inside his head, doing things no self-respecting woman would ever do, let alone to him.

“She hasn’t been new for two years,” Sebastian said, placing his foot firmly on Leander’s hip and shoving him away as Ominis clung to the wall, biting his tongue to stop himself groaning. “If you’re not going to help, then sod off.” He gripped Ominis’ shoulder, leaning close, and Ominis wriggled away, hissing as his skin tingled. “Mate, maybe he’s got a point. She’s good at potions, maybe she could do something about this? Plus, you like her, and she likes-”

“Never,” Ominis growled. “She can never hear of this.”

“Okay, then maybe we should get Professor Sharp, he’d be able to-”

“If you breathe a word of this to anyone I will kill you myself!” Ominis snarled.

It was getting decidedly hard to think, and Ominis huddled against the wall, bent almost in two as wave upon wave of rising need threw itself about his insides. If he didn’t do something soon, he was either going to explode or go completely insane. It was all he could do not to grab at himself, despite the fact that he was in public and he knew that it wouldn’t help one bit.

Sebastian shared a worried look with Garreth, whose eagerness to see the effects of his potion in action had worn off upon seeing how decidedly uncomfortable Ominis was. Yeah, it had been kind of funny to see him so embarrassed, but this was a problem. How could he sell his potion if the effects were this drastic, and didn’t wear off quickly?

“Maybe just… I don’t know, try and sleep it off?” Sebastian suggested, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry mate, I don’t know how else to help you.”

“I know a way you can,” Leander laughed, and quickly shut up as both Sebastian and Ominis glared at him, drawing their wands.

“Go up to the Room of Requirement,” Sebastian said, giving Ominis a little shove between the shoulder blades that made him yelp. “Garreth, you go too, there’s potion stations up there, and you better get to work on an antidote, or I’ll hang you off the Astronomy Tower by your balls.”

With a barely restrained whine, Ominis disillusioned himself and all but ran for the stairs, the outline of his figure vanishing as he rounded the bend. Garreth took one look at Sebastian’s murderous expression and followed, jotting notes on his parchment as he went. No sooner had he vanished than Sebastian took off, pelting through the castle, seeking the one person he hoped might be able to put an end to his brother’s suffering.

✧˖°  ˖ * ˖  °˖✧

“How long’s he been like this?” she asked, matching Sebastian’s pace as they hurtled towards the Room of Requirement.

“A bit more than an hour or so, I think,” Sebastian panted, struggling to keep up. “It’s really bad.”

She cursed under her breath, her long, dark hair swishing to and fro. “What did Garreth say it was meant to do?”

“Turn people on so they’re easier to get into bed,” Sebastian replied, glowering. “Or words to that effect. He wants to sell it ahead of Valentine’s Day.”

She made a face, her small nose wrinkling. “Creep. As if it wasn’t bad enough having to worry about love potions. Poor Ominis.” They slowed as they reached the seventh-floor corridor, and she glanced at him. “I presume he’s… um… tried the usual methods?”

Sebastian shrugged. “I guess so. Didn’t ask, he’s embarrassed enough. He’s going to kill me when he finds out I’ve told you.”

“Me in particular?” she raised a brow, and Sebastian hesitated. It wasn’t a secret to those who knew him well that Ominis was madly in love with the woman before him, but he hadn’t thought she’d figured it out. His silence seemed to be all the answer she needed, and a little smile touched her lips. “Leave it to me. He’ll be right as rain soon enough.”

“What are you going to-” Sebastian began, but she’d vanished into the Room of Requirement before he could finish. With a low sigh, he crossed his fingers, counted to ten, then followed, finding the large space mostly empty, save for a sweaty Garreth standing before a table of five cauldrons, each of them hissing different coloured steam. His nose was bleeding.

“What happened there?” Sebastian asked, and Garreth glowered.

“That cow just punched me,” he said, thickly. “Didn’t say a damn word and ran off to the bedroom.”

Sebastian grinned. “Can’t say you didn’t deserve it.”

Garreth wiped his nose on his sleeve. “Shut up and help me with these, would you? Whatever she’s planning, I hope it works, because none of these antidotes look promising right now.”

✧˖°  ˖ * ˖  °˖✧

Ominis twisted and writhed, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. His clothes lay discarded on the floor of the small room, the light satin sheets of the bed dragging across his fevered skin as he desperately sought some form of relief from the blazing need surging through his body. But no matter how much he rutted against the mattress, no matter how fervently he beat himself, he couldn’t break through the barrier between desperate desire and the enduring numbness that denied him, over and over.

He couldn’t say how much time had passed. He couldn’t say how long he’d been tangled in these sheets, moaning softly as he chased a high that tormented him as it danced away, again and again. His mind was fragmented, consumed by a primal, visceral need for relief, for this aching agony to end, for the heavens to open and just please let him come.

So scattered was he that he barely registered the door opening, the footsteps hushing over the carpet as he gripped handfuls of his hair, curled in a ball on his side. But he heard the sharp intake of breath, smelled that torturously familiar scent that was so deliciously her, and his tormented mind took on a crystal clarity as pure, unadulterated panic flashed through him.

“No, no!” he gasped. “No, not you!”

She pulled up short, her brows drawing together a little as Ominis struggled to pull the fraying threads of his brain back together.

“I-I’m sorry… I didn’t mean…” he whimpered softly as another agonising pang of need surged through him, intensified by the fact that it was her standing there, and he curled up tighter, his hands tensing in his hair, trying to hide his shamed face as he tried to burrow under the sheets. “I… I don’t want you to see me like this.”

She was concerningly quiet for a moment, then her footsteps sounded once more as she approached, and Ominis bit down on a high-pitched whine as she settled on the bed, her weight pulling the sheets tight against his skin. He fought not to writhe, every nerve ending on fire as he curled up tighter.

“Please… please leave,” he begged. “I-I c-can’t…”

“This needs to be fixed,” she said, her voice low and soothing. “Ominis, you can’t go on like this. I want to help you.”

“Then get me a fucking antidote,” he spat, his limbs trembling as he fought to remain still. He didn’t care that he swore in front of her, something he vowed never to do in front of a lady, he was too concerned with retaining some miniscule shred of dignity. Shame and humiliation burned a torturous path through his body as he bit down on another low whine, his cock throbbing at the thought of her being so close to him, her beautiful scent, her delicious voice sending waves of primal desire through him.

She couldn’t be here. She had to leave, or he was going to do something they would both regret.

It seemed she either couldn’t sense the danger, however, or she didn’t care. She slid closer to him, a cool hand finding his shoulder, such a simple touch making his hair stand on end as he fought with himself not to grab at her. He had to maintain control, no matter how difficult. He was a gentleman, he was proper, he wasn’t one of those base louts that thought with their dicks and followed wherever they pointed, he was… he was…

Fucking hell. He was desperate for her.

Her hand tightened on his shoulder, pushing lightly, and little by little he uncurled enough to reveal his face, his skin flushed, his hair sticking to his forehead.

“You poor thing,” she murmured. “Will you let me help you?”

Her hand slid over his shoulder to his chest, and Ominis bit down on a whine. How often had he tormented himself with fantasies of this exact thing happening? It almost made him want to weep with the frustration of it all, because he knew all too well that nothing would come of this but further humiliation.

“P-please… don’t,” he whimpered as she peeled the sheets back, moving closer to him as she trailed her fingers over his stomach, the muscles contracting at her touch. “It won’t… it won’t d-do anything… I c-can’t feel-”

His next words were cut off by a yelp as the heel of her hand grazed the aching head of his length through the sheets, sending a surge of pleasure so powerful through him that it snapped his head back.

He could feel her touch.

His hands flew out, one latching onto her wrist, the other winding into her hair. She came to him willingly, her lips brushing his hesitantly for a heartbeat before he crushed his mouth to hers, moaning helplessly as she found his aching steel through the sheets, her palm curving around the shape of him.

Ominis launched up, hooking an arm around her neck, his free hand shoving at the covers. There was no longer room for hesitancy or fear or embarrassment – any last shred of lingering dignity had been eviscerated by her kiss.

All Ominis knew is that he needed to be held, to be kissed, to be touched, and to be fucked. Right. Now.

He shoved at the sheets covering him as her lips moved from his to lavish attention on the side of his neck, her hand travelling down his chest sparking through his nerves. A high, desperate whine escaped him when she showed no hesitation and wrapped her hand around his fevered length, the soothing cool of her skin a balm to his burning flesh.

Even through his maddening haze of desperation and need, Ominis was dimly aware of the inexplicable skill she displayed, each swift, twisting stroke of her hand designed by some omniscient power, it seemed, so perfectly did it make his body sing. Her pace was steady, her grip firm but not tight, and his mind went to pieces. In all his furtive, shameful imaginings of being with her at last, he had never once suspected that she would know just how perfectly to treat him.

She murmured gentle encouragement to him, her words a song of sin and fire as her touch sent him ever higher on a glittering ladder that seemed heaven bound. Ominis bucked helplessly against her, his hands alternately clutching and tugging at her clothes, knowing in some deep, primal way that the simple touch of her hand, no matter how glorious, would never be enough.

It seemed she understood this as well, for her lips left his neck, trailing down his body, each press of her lips tensing the muscles they touched. Something in the back of his mind set up a wild protest, the part of him that was still human underneath his frantic desire screaming that he would never live this down, but even this stubborn part of him was silenced when a searing heat enveloped him from head to base, hard at the edges and so deliciously soft in the centre, something long and dexterous winding about his entire length.

The sensation of her mouth on him in such a way pushed a yell that was almost a scream from deep within his lungs, flying up his throat so harshly that it roughed the edges of his voice, his hands flew to her head, winding his fingers into her hair and driving himself as deep as he could. He didn’t care that he might choke her, that he might make her wretch, he just needed more of that sensation, more of this heavenly feeling of pure euphoria.

She didn’t choke, and she didn’t retch. She tightened her lips, hollowing her cheeks and sucking hard, her throat closing over the tip of him as he threw his head back, yelping in wordless ecstasy. Her arms wound around his waist as his legs fell apart, anchoring them together as her head bobbed at a steady, rapid pace, and if Ominis had the gift of sight, he would have seen the entire cosmos.

"Fuck... yes..." Ominis gasped. "Right there... don't stop, please don't stop..."

And yet it still wasn’t enough. Though each swipe of her tongue drew a whining moan from his lips like silver thread, the pulsing of her throat in time with his racing heart, his body stubbornly refused to fall over the edge upon which he teetered. Almost rabid, Ominis gripped he hair, pulling her back up to crush his lips to hers, tugging at her clothes so forcefully that her blouse tore.

In response, she pinned his wrists over his head. He had no time to protest this as she straddled him in the next moment, leaning down to capture his lips with hers once more, holding him tight with one hand as the other slid down, grasping him firmly and angling him up.

Ominis could never have imagined the euphoria that he experienced next. One moment, he was aching, spit-slick and cool in the empty air, and the next he was enveloped in searing satin and silken fire. If her mouth had been the cosmos, this was heaven itself. He could barely draw breath to moan as she seated him fully inside her, and even through his primal haze, he couldn’t believe it, couldn’t understand it, that he, Ominis Gaunt, was being loved by her.

He thrust up with abandon, garbled pleas and frenzied, worshipful praise flowing from his mouth between urgent kisses, his hands held firmly above his head as she rode him like a graphorn. Her hair swung down, the silken tresses brushing over his face and chest like he’d always dreamed of. He began to feel a delicious, prickling heat pooling at the base of his spine, in the pit of his stomach, his skin tingling as he ran full pelt towards the edge. Something within him knew he needed to savour this, to commit each and every detail to memory as she herself released a soft, breathy moan, but that single sound, the knowledge that came with it being that he was making her feel good was too much for him.

"Fuck... fuck... FUCK! YES! YES!"

The spell was broken, the potion overcome as Ominis’ entire body went taught, his balls drawing up tight as he finally, finally came like a fucking hose. His head snapped back, his moans rising to echoing yelps as his back arched, his hands pinioned above his head as he writhed, the sensation so much more intense than anything he had ever experienced before, going on and on and on until he was certain he might go mad. But end it did, and he fell back, utterly boneless and exhausted, his breath trembling as his body quivered, the warm weight of her comforting as she settled to lie atop him, her lips soothing once more at his neck.

“Are you alright?” she asked, after some small time had passed. Ominis could only mumble non-words, his mind still scattered, his not quite feeling his body as he should now that there was this sudden absence of primal need. Little by little, the last few hours came back to him, and he felt his chest grow tight. Wincing as fresh shame burned a path through him, Ominis turned his face away.

“I-I’m so sorry,” he managed, his voice cracking. “Y-you shouldn’t have… my behaviour… I never should…”

“Hush,” she brushed his hair back, pressing a delicate kiss to his temple. “I was happy to, Ominis.” She pulled him closer, a hand at the back of his head, and he curled into her automatically, burying his face in the crook of her neck. The lingering ache in his body melded with his utter humiliation, contrasting bizarrely with a feeling of purest bliss. He held onto it, onto her, knowing that once she left this bed, this room, she’d never want to speak to him again. She had helped him, yes, but that was what she did. It wasn’t because she liked him. How could anyone like someone as depraved as him?

As if she could read his thoughts, she gave him a little squeeze, her lips brushing his ear.

“You know, I’d be happy to do this again,” she murmured, and he felt her lips stretch into a smile against his skin as his heart leapt. “With you, and only you. Only… let’s leave the experimental potions out of it next time, hm?”

Ominis was only too happy to agree.

[choccy-milky]

doodled a scene from my fanfic of sebastian being grouchy over ominis & MC bonding 🥰 (you can read my fic here . if you want👀)

[sakialumei]

Lilith didn't even bother to hear his explanation, she was just ready to square up with that lady.

[ask-elland-n-will]

[Polyjuice Swap 2024!]

[William drank the wrong Polyjuice Potion: is there any doubt whose fur got into his vial?

Context: some Polyjuice Potions (sponsored by an organisation wishing to remain anonymous) have been specially produced for this Halloween party. They are meant to be swapped between students in secret to allow for fun interactions and "who are you"s. The rule of fun for bending the rules is allowed: long duration, change of clothes, transformations that are not normally possible with Polyjuice, and so on.]

William was really excited about this event as he was one of the people in charge of it, just like the year prior (as much as Cassandra claims it to be her idea). Potions allowing the user to change into some spooky creatures in spirit of the Halloween were a success back then, especially for those who didn't have a costume. Everyone from sandy mummies to cats with pretty bows roamed the ballroom (and some — wreaked havoc).

Changing into their classmates was not the aspect they'd considered until this year, and the permission to do it officially took Will a lot of time and effort. The prefects had to make sure that no transformed student left the designated area, that only the 7th-years took the polyjuice vials, and that the potions themselves were acquired from a reputable source.

William expected some cheating to occur, but not that it would affect him personally. And yet.

He took the vial he was given with excitement. Who would he become! Who else is participating! What is the pool of students he's picking from! William spent a few days looking through his archives, trying to recall his friends' mannerisms and speech patterns, obvious ticks and smaller details, typical topics of conversations, and so on. He was so prepared to play his role that—

— that when he watched in horror as teal fur started growing all over his face, as he felt the same hairy needles spread over the rest of his body, as sharp claws replaced his carefully manicured fingers (at least it didn't spread to his feet?), and as his lips— Merlin, he no longer had the lips, he had a beak! When all of that looked back at him in the mirror, all hope for a fun evening was lost.

[Welcome to the Swap!]

[ceruleanstargaze]

i did it again

[ryllen]

🍎⚡

[syaolaurant]

McTober week 3 - alternative house AU

I'll skip the Amortentia prompt because I'm having another plan for it 😘)

If Violette were in a different house, she would be a Ravenclaw.

Although she's not the inteligent and book smart type like Hermione, she's more of a curious and eccentric one. Her head is usually on the clouds, and when she loves something she's really puts her mind into it, plus she's totally introvert but won't stop yapping about divination or gems or any of her hobbies if you mention them to her.

But Violette is not really competitive when it comes to her academics, she doesn't want to bury her nose in books to get top marks in every class but instead focus on her favorite subjects and get just enough grade for her least favorites ones.