#sex potion

[descendantofthesparrow]

Can't stop this feeling - Harry Hook x reader- SMUT FIC- P6

SMUT FIC-MINORS DNI- All ‘important’ characters are 18+!

warning; slightly dubcon due to drugged sex, only Harry is drugged (he fully aware about what’s going on and is consensual (both parties are), but its still drugged sex) basically sex pollen smut but its sex potion, SMUT, unprotected sex (don worry (y/n) is on birth control)

=

Finally, you returned to Auradon-and you had returned dating Harry Hook. The ship pulled into port, you and Harry holding hands with Uma and Gil on either side-CJ yelling up to her big brother with the smee twins at her sides-Harriet behind them looking down at her phone.

Harry grinned at seeing his family, curling his arm around your waist and leading you towards the exit landing, suitcases in hand as you stepped off the ship. “Harry~!” CJ cheered, throwing her hands into the hair as she bolted towards him, the smee twins close behind. “how was it? Did ja’ have fun? Blow anything up?”

Harry chuckled, setting CJ on her feet, as she had jumped into his arms, and shaking his head. “it was amazing, yes it was fun, and no-I’m not ye.” CJ pouted, since apparently if you didn’t blow something up-you didn’t have fun. Her eyes drew to you, and they widened at the sight of Harry’s arm around your waist. “Dude-did you get a girlfriend?”

Cj squeaked, pointing right at you, her eyes alight with mischief. Harry snorted while you felt your face flush, feeling Harry pull you closer to his side. “Aye,” he rasped, turning to you with those pretty eyes of his. You puffed your cheeks at him slightly, knowing he was enjoying your flustered state in front of his sisters. “This is (y/n), we met due to a certain….incident” Harry paused, his eyes dilating for a moment as he stared at you-and you knew he was remembering that first night.

You just huffed, smacking his chest gently. “We bumped into each other during the first week and hit it off, he decided he liked me and asked me out-now we’re dating.” Harry just grinned, chuckling as you smacked his chest again. CJ narrowed her eyes at the both of you, knowing there was more to the story but she had a feeling she wouldn’t be able to dig it out of her big brother.

“Okay then,” she snorted, grabbing your hand and dragging you away from Harry-who gave a sound of annoyance as CJ pulled you towards Harriet. "Welcome to the hook fam (y/n)! we're all insane and pyromaniacs~" Harriet bopped CJ on the head as the two of you reached her, prying CJ’s grip from your arm.

“Tha’ts jus’ you CJ, Harry and I don’t blow shit up jus’ by lookin’ at em” Harriet sighed, and you could spot the same scales that Harry had on her upper cheeks, the sun hitting them just right. So both she and Harry were half-mers then, cool. “I’m Harriet,” you took her outstretched hand and she pulled you just closer, her bright blue eyes staring into yours-her pupil sharpening a bit. “jus’ a small warnin’ lass, ye hurt Harry-ye won’t live to tha’ next day. Got it?”

You just nodded; you had no plans to hurt him. “Good.” Harriet murmured, a small smirk growing on her face. Harry stepped up behind you and sighed, rolling his eyes fondly “Was she threatin’ yeh?” Harry asked, curling his arms around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest, his smirk against your cheek. You nodded, turning your head to whisper in his ear. “I don’t think she has to worry though; I have no plans of hurting what’s mine.”

Harry giggled, his cheeks turning pink as Harriet rolled her eyes, turning on her heel to head towards the parking lot. “Come’ on ye runts, let’s get ye back to the school, classes start back up tomorrow.” Harry groaned at the thought of going back to class but followed, his hand finding yours and rubbing his thumb against the top of your hand.

-

In the weeks following the cruise, things went back to normal-well, as normal as they were but now you were dating the ‘hottest’ dude in school. You could tell many were jealous of you, but many found it in themselves to not jeer at you or be mean. All except one. Nyx. You could tell she had it out for you. Many times you found your things missing before class, your locker was broken into, personal items missing, one time your meal ticket was stolen and Harry had offered to share his tray; but thanks to Mrs. Potts being so nice-you were given a new ticket the next day and free meals for the day you didn’t have one.

Harry was getting increasingly frustrated for you, knowing the only reason you were getting bullied was because of him. He desperately wanted to know who was targeting you, he had many suspects but he had been unable to pinpoint exactly who it was just yet.

Harry sighed, it was about a month after the cruise, classes were done for the day and the weekend had arrived. He glanced around for you, knowing you were getting changed after finishing up swim club with Uma. He needed to find out who was fucking around, it was unfair to you; just because he liked you and chose you-didn’t mean you deserved anything horrid.

He glanced behind him, seeing Nyx staring back, her eyes hooded and dark, she licked her lips when she caught his eyes and he quickly turned away-shivers of queasiness running up his spine. Fuck he really didn’t like being in the same space as her; he had a strong feeling she was behind your bullying encounters, but he didn’t have any proof.

Harry felt another shiver go down his spine-this one pleasant and grabbing his attention. He turned, beaming as he saw you and Uma step into the hall, your hair still a bit wet from the club and your cheek scales shimmering in the fluorescent light of the hall. He stood from his spot on the bench, running over to you and grabbing you in a hug, muttering your name into your shoulder as you laughed; Uma teasing him as she went to get her dinner.

“I missed yeh,” Harry mumbled as he set you down, following you towards the line for dinner. You rolled your eyes fondly; he was such a dork. “You saw me two hours ago during history, Harry.” You hummed, taking his hand and giggling as he pouted. “Two hours too long,” he muttered back, smiling as you leaned up and pecked his cheek.

“Dork,” you mumbled against his skin, skipping into the line as Harry went back to the table he picked out, finally starting to eat his food as he waited for you and Uma, Gil was two tables over with Jay, Jane, and Carlos; leaving Harry alone with the girls. Harry grabbed his soda and took a sip-momentarily distracted as he watched you walk over to the table and sat down next to him-swallowing the fizzy drink without tasting it as he swung his leg over to straddle the bench to face you as you laughed at his actions.

It was his first relationship-so you had expected him to be eager, but this was all too damn cute coming from the hard-headed pirate. You said as such and Harry turned pink, pouting at you while you giggled behind your hand. Harry’s hand found your thigh and he grinned, squeezing it slightly as you gasped, glaring at him slightly as his hand gently traced up on your leg, his fingers towards your waist.

“Cute eh?” he mumbled, eyes going to your lips, a smirk on his. You grabbed his hand, narrowing your eyes at him playfully as he chuckled, he leaned close to you, his breath against your skin “I was thinkin’ you, me? At the lake tonight?” You hummed in agreement, a smile on your lips. Harry had been wanting to have a date at the nearby lake, not the enchanted lake that was too far to go out to even for a weekend. But it was a quant lake that had a few hidden caverns deep within the water, one you frequently went to when you needed a break.

You nodded, giggling as you felt Harry’s lips against yours in a quick kiss, he almost looked giddy with the idea of a date-you hadn't been able to go on a proper one since Puerto Rico-speaking of which; Harry always carried around his new knife and you were nearly always wearing the jewelry he had gifted you, the obsidian rock always sitting in your pocket.

“Great, meet me there at one am,” Harry continued to whisper and you giggled, curfew was relaxed on the weekends, but there were still enchanted knights and supervisors wandering the halls looking for anyone up and around past curfew. So you were going to have to sneak past everyone to make it to the lake to meet harry.

Luckily for you, your dorm faced the path towards the lake-so you could just slip out your window, meanwhile, Harry would have to go all sneaky-like. You glanced to the side as you felt eyes burning into your head, seeing Nyx glaring at you. You just looked away, not caring about her.

-

Nyx smiled from across the hall, seeing Harry continuing to drink his soda. While he had gotten up to greet you and Uma, she had slipped his half of the potion into his drink; which she had remade to be tasteless, and much more potent. With the two of you so far apart, thanks to the dorm building, this time-this time; She would be in his way, and he would finally be hers.

-

Harry clenched his teeth as he felt that now familiar heat bubble and course beneath his skin, sweat dripping down his face as he panted. “Fuck,” he whispered, gasping in pain as a cramp rushed through his body. shit-shit shit shit-and here he thought he was finally safe from that damned drug and whoever was drugging him.

But here he was, just minutes before 1 am, horny as all hell with no way to help himself. Thank the gods he had asked you out on a date. But he had to get there first, and he was still in his room, his swim shorts painfully tight and aches rushing through his body.

“Fuck.” Harry hissed out, curling in on himself as a wave of intense arousal hit his core, panting as drool dripped down his chin. He could smell you, his eyes drawn to your scrunchie that rested on his nightstand. He swallowed hard-your faint scent making him ache for you, his cock twitching beneath his swim trunks.

He scrambled for his phone, doing his best to text you what was going on, but he couldn’t get his fingers to cooperate, so he settled for calling you. “Lass?” he rasped out, gasping as another cramp ran up his spine, he nearly collapsed on his bed, your voice on the other side of the call calming the heat for only a moment. “It happened-fuck-again, i-i-I don’t fuuummm.” His eyes nearly rolled back and his knees hit the floor as a strong pulse ran from his cock up to his chest, blurring his mind. “H-help.”

You nearly panicked from the other end of the call, glancing back towards the path that led towards the dorm building. You were already in the lake-transformed into your mermaid form. “Can-can you walk at all?” you asked, biting your lip as Harry just let out a groan, which considering the circumstances, sent a shiver down your spine. Fuck-why did he sound so goddamn hot?

“no-no, it-fuck it hurts lass, like tha’ first night.” You cursed under your breath, tapping your fingers against your mouth as you thought about what to do. You could either go back to the dorms and sneak through the halls and possibly get caught trying to help him. or….or-OR! “I’m going to text Uma, she can teleport you here, okay?” Harry just groaned again, a near whimper coming from his throat. You swallowed, quickly hanging up and texting Uma, and no more than a minute later-something(someone) landed in front of you.

You looked up, seeing Harry kneeling before you, his eyes nearly violet as he panted, his body bare other than the jacket he wore and his swim trunks. “lass-“ he breathed, collapsing into you as you pulled yourself up and kissed him, curling your arms around his neck and tugging him into the lake-the cool waters nearly shocking his system but thanks to his half-Mer biology, he adjusted quickly and wrapped his arms around you, your scales pressing against his skin.

He whispered your name into your mouth, his cheeks bright red as you got to work pushing down his trunks, your hands finding his dick. “(y/n),” he whined, biting his lip and burying his face in your neck as you began to stroke him, the cool water with your hand feeling quite odd-but good. “shit-“ your mouth found his jaw, nipping and sucking at the skin as he shivered under your touch, melting into you as his eyes wandered-finding the black dress you had worn before getting in the water.

Fuck you probably looked so damn hot in that, those sheer long sleeves that were sparkling like stars probably looked amazing on you-he would have to ask you to wear it again-he was ripped from his thoughts as you dipped below the water, your warm mouth wrapping around his dick and your tongue pressing against the bottom. “FUCK!” Harry yelped, his head falling back as he trembled in the water, the cool liquid keeping his body comfortable from that boiling heat.

“oh-oh gods-“ he whimpered out your name, his cheeks bright red as he braced himself against the shore, his breath turning to steam as it met the cool air. You looked up at him through the water, putting your hands on his thighs as you pulled nearly off his dick and swirled your tongue along the tip, smiling as he shook at the feeling, your name coming from his lips again.

“(y/n)-fuck-I’m!” Harry gasped and shuddered, his hands finding your hair and curling his fingers into it, gasping as his back arched and he came. Once again it was an inhuman amount, but now you wondered if It was due to his half-Mer biology instead of the drug.

You swallowed most of it, keeping what you couldn’t in your mouth as you slowly breached the surface, giggling at Harry’s face as he panted, his eyes flickering between ocean blue and violet, locked onto you and dilated. “fuck, yer so fukin’ amazin’ love.” Harry groaned, grabbing your face and you just swallowed the last of his cum as his lips met yours, he tasted himself on you as he wrapped his arms around you, feeling himself ache and shudder as your hand found his cock and led it to a slit that sat around your tails crotch area.

Harry moaned as you took his hips and pushed him inside you, his skin meeting your scales and your hands found his cheeks, thumbs rubbing against the shimmering opal scales. Harry kept letting out sweet little sighs and gasps as you guided his hips, and you slowly pulled the two of you beneath the water, Harry’s gills opening up as your lips met again.

Harry snatched your hands and put them around his neck as something snapped inside him, a low purring growl erupting from his throat, his eyes flashing violet as he began to thrust wildly inside you, reminding you of that first night as he fucked you hard and well.

“fuck-ye feel so fukin’ good, so fuckin’ perfect-“ Harry gasped into your ear, his arms around your waist as his hips snapped into you. You could hardly hold onto him, this was different than the last two times-it felt-so fucking good-sparks of lightning traveling through your skin each time he moved, the mark on your neck tingling every time his chin brushed against it.

You realized-this was the first time you have had sex since the night you became bonded mates-so now everything was elevated to heights you couldn’t even imagine. You moaned out his name, feeling that familiar coil in your gut and sparks running up from the edge of your tail.

Your lips met again, your hands tangling in his hair as you felt that coil snap, fireworks traveling your skin as Harry groaned into your mouth, his hips stuttering as he came. You felt him fill you up, panting as he pulled out, his brows furrowing as he watched the slit close and keep his cum inside you. “mermaid biology’s weird” you giggled to him, and he laughed, taking your lips again taking you above the water, lifting you out and bracing you against the stone gazebo.

You let your tail split into legs, shuddering as Harry’s cum spilled out of you and pooled at your ass. “fuck,” Harry muttered, taking his hands and spreading your legs-getting a good look at your leaking cunt. “gods how lucky I am ta’ have ye,” You gasped as he slid back inside you, just as hard as he was when you had started. Your legs wrapped around his waist and arms around his neck-holding him close as snapped his hips against your thighs, gasping and crying out each time he hit that sweet spot inside you.

“Harry-fuck-ah!”

Just like that night he had a double dose back on the ship-Harry fucked you through several orgasms of his own, pushing you through your overstimulation and bringing you to new heights, your senses heightened and pleasure heightened thanks to your bond. By 2 am; you were exhausted, tingly, full of Harry, and sweaty. The bite on your neck tingled as Harry’s breath ghosted across it as he rested his head on your shoulder, still inside you as you both came down from your final highs.

“Damn,” Harry breathed, slowly sitting up and pulling out, huffing in exhausted arousal as he watched his cum pour out of you. “I didn’t even taste anythin’ in any of me drinks today…maybe they’re getting’ smarter?” Harry asked, not really expecting an answer but simply ranting, taking your overheated body and bringing you into the water, your heads dipping below the cool surface as your legs turned back into a tail.

You turned to face him, admiring his opal scales that glimmered under the moonlight that broke through the surface of the water, his eyes enchanting as ever as they returned to their natural ocean blue. “how do you feel about going to Neverland for your birthday?” you asked quietly against his lips, and his body froze, staring into your eyes. His face crumbled into unbelieving great fullness and he nodded, bringing you into the strongest hug you had ever felt.

You hummed into him, cuddling into his shoulder and wrapping your tail around his legs, your thumbs rubbing his scales as he whispered many ‘thank you’s into your ear.

-

“They-they fucking bonded him?” Nyx whispered to herself in pure outrage and disbelief, her eyes on the healed bite mark on Harry’s inner neck that mirrored the one on the boyfriend stealer. The fish bitch had actually bonded her fucking man-they had fully stolen Harry Hook from Nyx. “I’m going to fucking kill her,” Nyx hissed, forcing herself to leave as her ears began to burn hearing the mermaid's name from Harry’s lips.

This had gone on long enough-she was going to reclaim what was hers.

And if she couldn’t get rid of you? And free harry from whatever spell you had put him under-she would make sure no one could have him.

-end of p6-

P6 P6~ and Nyx is getting some-nasty-ideas, almost as nasty as her drugging harry in an attempt to rape him and impregnate herself through doing so~ :D yeah shes lil(very) fucked up. Uhhhhh idk when the next update is but yeah~!

taglist!

@sephiralorange @c-rose2081(MENACE) @rintheemolion

@living-for-romance

[saintmachina]

"oh so you're spiritual but not religious" no actually I am deeply religious in alarmingly carnal and esoteric ways. If you even care.

[alwaysthegeorges]

No Going Back - George Weasley x Reader

Summary - During the Yule Ball, you and George accidentally brew a sex pollen potion instead of amortentia.

Warnings - fluff, pining, and last but not least, smut (characters are aged up to be 18 in their last year of school). No use of Y/N. 

Word Count - 4.4k (edited) (i’m not sorry)

a/n - i <3 george weasley. i also mean no snape slander, just making comments more realistic for the pov :)

!gif not mine!

“Whatcha doin’?” you asked as you walked into the almost-empty classroom.

George lifted his head from the boiling cauldron he was watching over when you entered, eager to share what he had created. 

“Well, my dear, Fred has instructed me to try and brew Amortentia so he can try and woo Angelica. He didn’t know how to do it, so I thought I’d step up and give it a try. I was the one that took the notes during Snape’s lecture, anyway,” he explained, winking at you playfully after the last part.

The boys were notorious for not paying attention in class, but George had recently begun to share your preference for potions class. After the night in the common room you shared, filled with fun stories and passionate rants about how useful a knowledge of potions could be, he seemed to become more interested in Snape’s lectures. George even made note to ask you to get together to share notes between quizzes and tests. You were glad that he was becoming more interested in school, but couldn’t stop wondering why he seemed so excited about a topic only after you had went on about your own love for it. Of course, you weren’t complaining, especially because now he seems to want to spend more time with you alone, and you’ve had a crush on him since the two of you were seated next to each other in 5th year charms.

“Is that so? Does Fred not seem to think he can woo her on his own?”

“Apparently not. He’s been trying too hard and thinks he’s overdone it. He’s asked her to the Yule Ball like 3 times already,” George says, chuckling over his brother’s endeavors.

“Yikes. He clearly didn’t inherit the charms of the family then,” you joked, nudging George’s arm with your elbow. He leaned forward towards your stature, smirking with intrigue at your comment.

“And who do you rather think inherited those genes?” he asked you playfully, his prideful smirk remaining on his beautiful, freckled face.

“Ah, well, I’d have to say Harry, being as your mother counts him as part of the family, and he seems to have more charm with the ladies than any of you!” you declared, smiling widely.

George tilts his head back, clutching his chest in faux agony.

“Oh how you wound me, dearest.”

The two of you share a charged moment of giggling before the moment got cut short with a terrible sound coming from the cauldron.

“Merlin, I forgot to keep stirring it!” George exclaimed, rushing over to the side of the cauldron once again.

Just as he reached the bubbling, smoking mixture, a popping sound and a wall of purple smoke filled the room in less than a second. Once the dust settled, you looked over at George only to fall into a fit of laughter at his appearance. The tall, muscular ginger was covered head-to-toe in a purple dust, which left not a part of his body uncovered. The tall man wiped his eyes, if only to playfully scowl at you laughing at him. Of course, he found your giggles so contagious, he couldn’t help but fall into a fit of them himself.

Once the laughter died down, you and George began walking back to his common room to clean up.

“Guess I’m going to need some help with that potion, too,” he chuckled.

⏃⏂⏃

The time was getting late, or so it felt like. Everyone else had left your common room, but George remained determined to finish the unit the two of you were working on. Snape had made a paper due in two days from when it was assigned, like the evil bastard he is, and you knew George was stressing. He was never very good at writing papers. Like the good friend you are, you had offered to help him, especially with his wording. He had gladly accepted, appreciating your help. Then, not only would the two of you get to spend time together, but you could help him become a better student, which was always a nice goal.

After the third question he answered was revealed to be wrong, George groaned and laid his head back on the common room couch seat, covering his face with his hands. You propped your arm up on the seat as well and turned your body to face George, trying not to let that beautiful groan go to places it shouldn’t. You were just friends, after all. 

“It’s alright George, I’m sure you know it. You just need a little break,” you comforted, laying a hand on his shoulder gently.

George released his hands from his face, allowing them to slide to his sides once more, and turned his head to face you. You could’ve sworn you saw a blush donning his cheeks as his eyes flicked ever so slightly towards your hand, but the moment passed just as quickly as it had appeared. His beautiful brown eyes glistened in the light coming from the fireplace, and a heat began to rush to your own cheeks. You wanted to blame that on the fireplace as well.

“Perhaps. Maybe we should put on some music. A little dance party never hurt anyone,” he suggested, a shit-eating grin beginning to take over his face.

With a nod of agreement from you, George popped up and put on a record. You groaned as you heard the first few notes of O’ Children by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds begin to play. Of course the man would put on a song he knew you couldn’t resist dancing to. He flounced over to where you were seated on the floor and reached out his hand, a glimmer of mischief lingering in his eyes. You grabbed his hand and he pulled you up to your feet so quickly it felt like you were flying for a second, so much so that you lost your balance and fell a bit forward into George’s arms. You were able to quickly gain your composure, giggling it off and turning your head away so he couldn’t see the redness that had climbed onto your cheeks. All George did was chuckle at you, and he began leading you with the hand he still held to the main area of the common room. The man used your hand to turn you around and begin the dancing he had suggested, and you couldn’t help but laugh. The two of you turned and swayed to the rhythm until you naturally fell into a close position, chests only inches apart, hands clasped together. It felt as if you were at last year’s Yule Ball, only this was much better, since you didn’t have a nervous Seamus stepping on your toes. You swayed to the music in perfect harmony, easily falling into an unspoken rhythm that always followed the two of you. George must’ve been thinking the same thing you were, because after a few more seconds of only the music filling the room, he spoke in a hushed tone.

“This is nice. I like dancing with you,” he smiled.

“I like dancing with you too, George. You’re surprisingly good at it.” George rolled his eyes playfully.

“Yeah, well, let’s just say I practiced to impress my date last year. Seems I was the only one out of the two of us,” he chucked, eyes gleaming with the memory. “She stepped on me so many times, I think I have permanent markings on my shoes.”

You giggled, sharing his pain.

“Poor little George,” you teased.

“Oh hush, you,” he fired, wrinkling his nose in the way that made your heart flutter.

After another quiet moment, he seemed to hesitate at saying something else. You piped up and bugged him to say what was on his mind, eager to hear what he had to say.

“I don’t know if it would be weird, but would you want to go to the Yule Ball with me this year? It would save us from having to scramble to find decent dates. And hey, if it’s anything like tonight, I think my shoes will be intact by the end of the night,” he chuckled, trying to make light of the question, but his arms had seemed to tense up a bit.

You smiled up at him, trying your best to not let him feel your nerves.

“Of course I’d like to go with you. I’m sure it’ll be amazing. I heard they were even trying to get Nick Cave come perform this year!”

George sighed and continued your conversation as the two of you continued to sway to the music, but you could’ve sworn his body relaxed with that breath of air. You tried to shake the thought off, because why would he be nervous about asking you to go to the dance? You were sure your crush was merely one-sided. Thinking he had any other feelings towards you would only lead to your own heartbreak, so you pushed the thoughts down and simply tried to enjoy this moment.

⏃⏂⏃

As the ball continued on, you and George couldn’t help but get restless. The music this year was terrible compared to last year, and somehow they managed to mess up the catering, so the pumpkin juice was watery at best. As the night droned on, you couldn’t help but want to get out of there. You knew it wasn’t proper, since it was the middle of the party, but you could tell most people were not having a good time by the amount of people secluding to their tables. 

George and you had danced a bit in the beginning, but the two of you agreed that it began to suck so bad it wasn’t even worth trying to jam to. Instead, you had found your way to your table with his brothers, and laughed the night away. The Weasleys never failed to make a boring event a good time. That is, until Fred began pestering George about the Amortentia. George tried to wave him off, but once Fred left, he seemed genuinely bothered by the fact he wasn’t able to brew it. As you thought more about what went wrong, it felt as if the idea just fell right into your lap.

“George, I know what went wrong. We can fix the potion for Fred!” you shared excitedly, placing your hand on his freckled arm. He turned to you, face lighting up.

“Really? We can do it right?” he asked excitedly.

“I think so! C’mon, then!” you exclaimed, standing from your chair.

“What? Now?”

“Yes, now! Would you rather stay here and watch Neville try to dance with your sister again? Because I assure you, they are the only ones having fun at the moment.”

George laughed, grabbing your hand.

“Let’s go, then,” he said, shit-eating grin returning to his beautiful features. 

⏃⏂⏃

George basically dragged you back to his dorm. Strangely, this was never how you pictured this happening. Yet, here you were. Honestly, his setup as a prefect was not too shabby at all. An entire room and bathroom to himself, a nice desk he could lay out papers and his cauldron on, a whole story above the main dorms? He was pretty much living the dream up there. 

The man eagerly began taking his notes from different books, all scattered along his desk. Though the man had his own space for once, you knew he still wouldn’t clean up after himself. Guys.

After about an hour that had only felt like mere minutes, the two of you had almost completely finished the potion. After decent care and proper mixing, there was only one step left to complete the most powerful love potion ever made.

“Alright then, the recipe says that you must add three drops of unicorn tears, exactly. No more, no less,” you explain.

“What happens if more is added? I don’t have the most reliable dropper,” George questions fretfully.

“Beats me. I’ve never seen it done in real life before. Just, be careful, I guess.”

George looks back at you, a worried look in his eyes as he turns to the cauldron.

“Now or never, I guess. Here we go... there’s one, two...”

Before George could finish his sentence, a cloud of dark red smoke erupts from the cauldron and fills the room. The two of you look to each other in horror, equally knowing that is not how the potion should act. 

“What did you do?” you questioned frantically.

“I don’t know! I guess the dropper malfunctioned and did two fast drops instead of only one! What’s it going to do?”

“I don’t know, don’t ask me! Do you think it’s going to explode again?”

The two of you look to the cauldron, which remained calm as ever. The smoke even began to settle. You sighed with a bit of relief.

“I don’t think so,” George answered. “Last time it did that because of the bubbles. It seems to be settling all by itself.”

Just as the you began to relax, thinking nothing was to come out of fucking up the potion, you noticed the smoke beginning to seep into George’s skin. You looked down at your legs to see it was doing the same to you. George didn’t seem to notice, and it didn’t feel like it was doing anything to your body, so the two of you decided to call it a night. 

You were in the process of going back to your dorm when all of a sudden, a burning desire settled into your lower abdomen. A sensation that you’ve never felt before began building and building, taking over your entire body by the second. Your body began feeling hot all over, and an all too familiar wetness began to pool in your panties. You rushed back to your dorm, and thankfully none of the other girls were back from the dance yet. You thought maybe satisfying yourself would make the world-burning desire subside, but even long after you finished and attempted to go to sleep, the feeling of needing more lingered in you. You tossed and turned, but no amount of sleepiness could satisfy your growing need. Giving in, you swiftly got out of bed and stormed over to George’s dorms, wondering if he was having the same affects as you.

Right as you were about to knock on his door, it swung open to the tall, flushed man glistening with sweat. George’s face was almost as red as his hair, but even in this condition, he was as beautiful as ever. The moment you saw him, the burning between your legs heightened. You tried to suppress your squirming.

“Hey,” George panted. “I was just coming to find you.”

He rushed you inside his room and locked the door quickly as you entered.

“What the fuck is going on?” you ask frantically, still trying to keep your movements under control, even when the itch to go up to George and kiss him was growing by the minute.

“I don’t know, one minute I’m fine, the next my skin feels like it’s on fire!”

“I know! What are we supposed to do?!”

“I don’t know that, either,” George gasped, throwing a hand into his sweaty but yet still perfectly curled hair. “We don’t know how long it takes to wear off. There’s no research in the school for this shit. I mean, I guess we can try doing it ourselves, but-”

“Doesn’t work,” you mutter, casting your eyes upon the ground. You desperately tried to hold yourself together as the dirty thoughts in your head became louder. “I tried.”

“You tri- oh. Okay, yeah. Wonderful,” he flushed more, if a such thing was even possible to do in his condition.

There was a nervousness to his voice, one that didn’t sound like it was stemming from the stress of the situation. The nerves felt like- like he was trying to hold desperately onto something he had been trying to keep for a while.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“I mean, I could be better. This isn’t the best situation to be in right now, especially with you.”

“Especially with me? What’s that got to mean?”

“Ugh, I just.. I don’t know, okay? I’m stressed out enough, I didn’t need this- predicament. I’m already dealing with enough feelings.”

Thanks George, how vague.

“I mean, you can always go fix it. I know you’ve got a crush on Angelina, but you don’t want Fred to find out. You were being weird around her all evening. I can tell she feels the same, if that’s what you’re worried about. If you so badly want this to be fixed, I’m sure she would be happy to help you out,” you explain, even though your heart feels like it’s tearing into two by telling him. 

You had seen the way Angelina had been looking at him all night. It made you sick, but you knew he was stressed about school, so if that push is what he needed to help him out, so be it. Who were you to keep him from his crush.

“Angelina? No! Even though Fred has a crush on her, I wouldn’t go for her anyway. I don’t like her like that. She’s not the one I would rather fix this with!” George exclaims, exasperated.

A pause. What? Who did he want to fix it with?

“Then who? Tell me whoever you’d like and I can try to track them down. I don’t want you stuck like this when you’ve got so much going on already.”

George shoves his hands in his hair again, letting out an exasperated and strained sigh. He plops on the side of his bed, that strong body of his looking weaker as he defeatedly sits there.

“You really don’t get it do you? Or do you enjoy seeing me in pain?”

Confused, your eyes flick to where they really shouldn’t have. There, sitting very uncomfortably in the leg of his loose basketball shorts, was a very large problem. The sight just about made your knees give out, and you stumbled back a bit to lean on the corner of George’s desk. Your mind flicked back to what he had said a moment ago. You really don’t get it.

“What do I not get?”

Another sigh.

“Have I not made it glaringly obvious? I try to study with you as much as I can, alone. I always make sure I play the songs that help your brain relax when you’re stressed. I make sure I sit on the right of you during classes so you can see the board. I asked you to the bloody Yule Ball. Can’t you see? I like you, okay? I always have,” George lets out like a wave of emotion. His hands fly up to cover his eyes, as if they were strained from stress or lack of sleep.

The fluttering in your chest begins again, but not the kind caused by the potion. George likes you? He likes you back? You heart begins beating so fast its sound fills your ears. A rush of emotions fill you. Happiness, clarity, regret of not seeing it sooner. You had pushed down the idea that he liked you for so long that you couldn’t see what was right in front of you! Now’s the time to make up for it, you guessed.

You walked slowly over to where George sat and faced him. Carefully, as if you were handling the most precious pottery, you moved your hands to remove his from his eyes. George looked up at you with his glimmering eyes full of questions, all of which you answered by leaning down and kissing him.

The moment your lips met, it’s as if time stopped. The most colorful fireworks seemed to flood your mind, because finally, you were kissing George, and he was kissing you back. He kissed you like he had been waiting for years, like you were his air and the two of you were underwater. His hands moved to cup your cheek and press along your back, pulling you closer to him until your bodies were flush against each other. The burning sensation along your entire body intensified, as if this is what the feeling was waiting for. George must’ve felt it too, because he let a groan seep into your kiss. Your legs almost gave out at the sound, and as quick as lightning, George flipped you so you were lying on the bed with him on top of you. Pausing to take a breath, George’s eyes flicked from your lips back to your eyes.

“You won’t believe how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” he admitted, eyes gleaming in the light from the fireplace.

“Me too,” you whispered, taking a moment to trace his features with the tip of your finger. His freckles, his strong nose, breathtaking smile. Your hand settled on his cheek, thumb rubbing up and down like he was the most precious thing you had ever held. Honestly, he was.

George leaned in to kiss you again, softer this time. You could feel all his emotion pouring into the kiss, almost gasping from the intensity you felt. You let him take his time with you, mapping out your every feature with his lips, planting loving kisses all over. It was more than pleasant to say the least, having someone you had loved in secret for years finally loving you right back. You could’ve stayed like that for hours, if it weren’t for the increasing pressure and sensation in your abdomen. You were sure George felt the heat rising as well, because with a glance, he began kissing down your neck, paying special attention to the spot that made you squirm underneath him. Before you knew it, he was kissing down your clothed chest. His eyes flicked to yours, as if asking a question, and you nodded, moving to remove your shirt.

Once it was across the room, George reached behind and unclasped your bra with such skill it seemed like he had practiced just for this moment. The rush made your heart pump fast with excitement and anticipation, but what it pumped with the most was love for this man. You could tell how much he cared from every glance up to your face, always with the question of consent. You happily gave it to him every time, knowing there was no one else in the world you’d rather share this moment with.

Once your top was fully unclothed, George’s mouth began trailing all over your body, taking special time to grasp each nipple between his teeth. With each flick of his tongue, you could feel the burning sensation growing, so you grasped onto George’s shoulder as if to warn him. The potion must’ve been giving him the treatment it had given to you, because he seemed to understand each of your movements perfectly. That, or he already knew you the meaning behind your movements because he had always paid such close attention to your body language. After gaining consent, George happily ripped the rest of your clothes off in seconds, and George’s fingers trailed down to the spot with the most intense burning. The spot you had been waiting for. After getting the okay from you and wetting his fingers, he slowly pushed two into you, curling them perfectly to hit the spot that made your body go haywire. George watched as your back rose off the mattress, as your beautiful eyes rolled back into your head with every curve of his fingertips. It was the most breathtaking sight he had ever seen. After using his other hand to press on your lower stomach gently in order to intensify the feeling, he dipped his head bow and his tongue went to work on your throbbing clit. The pleasure this man gave you was so intense and incredible he had you in tears in seconds, working you up to one of the most intense orgasm you had ever experienced. Every muscle in your body was on fire, the perfect man giving you pleasure combined with the power from the potion sending you over the edge in less than a minute. Your body seemed to set fire as the coil in your stomach snapped and the pleasure hit you like a wave all at once. George took a moment to take in your movements, in awe of everything you did. Without wasting any more time, George crawled back up to you and kissed you, wrapping the arm he used to prop himself up with around your arm to cradle you. You felt elated, wanting nothing more than to have more of this man. He brought his head back to look at you and slowly raised one of your legs to wrap around his torso, all without breaking eye contact. With a nod and a slow, sensual kiss, George slowly pushed into you, supporting your head with his arm as you threw it back in pleasure. The feeling of his rock hard length pushing in and out of you at an insanely slow pace was driving you insane, the burning sensation making it feel like your world had just set fire. 

“Faster,” you begged, grasping a hand on one of George’s large, muscular shoulders. 

He did as you commanded, speeding up his movements. He set an above average pace, both of you on the verge of snapping from the mix of heat and pleasure the potion was providing, and his freckled features turned into such a beautifully nasty expression that it should be either framed or illegal. George looked too good all riled up and sweaty, you admitted to yourself.

Before you knew it, the two of you were reaching your brink. George picked up the pace, pounding you into the mattress so hard you were surprised it hadn’t given out under you. He reached his free hand down to toy with your clit more, hoping to speed up and intensify the impending feeling about to wash over you. Together, the two of you released all the tension that had been building up since you began loving each other, and it all washed over you in such an intense and intimate wave. You couldn’t have asked for anything better, because you had it all. The beautiful man that laid on top of you, feeling completely worn out and boneless, was everything you knew he was, and even maybe a bit more. He was as perfect as a man could be, and the best part is that he adored you somehow even more than you adored him. The love and care you had for each other matched no other. You knew after this there was no going back, but you were okay with that, because you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

[atsadi-shenanigans]

A Misuse of Potions 2 - Invisibility

In which I write probably my most demented smut so far. Predator/prey. Buckle up, friends and enemies, cause that man gets REAL WEIRD in this one. Full-force Creachur Astarion.

On Ao3.

On the third day of Eleint, she comes to him. Her dark eyes are warm, her limbs loose, and he doesn’t even have to scent the air to know what’s going on between her legs.

“Would now be a good time?” she says.

Always, he wants to say, though that’s not always true. Sometimes, even now, the memories seep in and it’s all he can do not to shred his own skin with his claws.

But this is not one of those times. This is the third day of Eleint, his Eleanor has a glint to her eye, and they’ve discussed this subject at length.

Astarion snaps his book shut and lets it drop to the floor. Rolls to his feet to sweep her into his embrace and buries his face against her neck to breathe her in, slow and deep.

Warmth, life. Salt and clean.

Moon blood.

“There’s nothing I’d like more,” he says and means it. Can tell in her gaze she sees the truth of it.

They’ve planned for this. Extensively. His Eleanor does love her planning. She’s quite prepared.

He’s not even surprised when he follows her upstairs to their bedroom, and she pulls a pack from their wardrobe. Removes the items within and inventories them on the bed. He takes a small, velvet pouch she holds out, and his groin is already starting to tighten. From her scent, of course, and from what he knows this pouch will lead to.

She goes over The Plan again. They both need to be certain, after all. There’s not much on his end; neither of them expect much on his end once they start, save for her words “red light.” She’s used them before; by now they’re both comfortable with it and what comes after, even if it sometimes makes his guts squirm.

No pain follows it, though. Not ever. Not after red light, not after cub. Sometimes they resume, and sometimes they just…stop. Hold each other. Dress and move to the lounge. Sometimes she’ll get herself a bite to eat, and sometimes she’ll give him her wrist or her neck when he needs it.

She dressed carefully, this night, from an outfit she had folded in that pack. It’s cheap material. Far too flimsy for road travel, but it’s meant to be cheap, and he watches her slip the layers on and his cock begins to fill in earnest.

She does not wear her moon blood belt. She does not tuck rags into her trousers (her face flushes adorably as she slips nothing but a single pair of panties on, followed by said trousers).

He has to lean against the wall and keep his arms crossed. His own trousers become uncomfortable.

She notices that. Of course she does. Gives him a little smile, the minx.

“Ready?” she says.

He wants to push her to the floor and spread her legs and—

He steps away from the wall. “Very, my love.”

The teleportation spell is not his favorite, even if it is useful. For this, though, he swallows down his complaints (he’ll be swallowing down much more pleasant things tonight), and a moment later, they step onto soft grass.

It’s a lonely patch of woods. Or as lonely as any patch of untended woods can be. They’d scouted it some months back, when passing near the Bear’s newest little enclave. No one lives out here. No guards, no gaggles. No one to get the wrong idea or try to do something stupid and ruin the night for all involved.

There’s also no goblins or worgs or other worrisome beasts. Just the bunnies and other snacks.

The late summer heat clings to the air, but the wind already sweeps a soothing chill over his face. His Eleanor glances about, her poor, human ears straining, and looks to him.

“We’re all alone,” he says.

His fangs ache. The beds of his nails tingle as his claws threaten to sharpen. Alone out here, in the wilds, with her.

They look at each other for a long moment. He lets himself enjoy the way the silver moonlight—nearly full, lucky him—paints over her skin, sinks into her dark hair.

“You sure about your getup?” she says.

He’s wearing his home clothes, the ones he was loafing about it: a loose tunic tucked into his trousers. He hadn’t thought to change. Had only grabbed his city shoes while trying to adjust himself in his underthings.

He waves her off. “I can replace it.”

Gives her an appreciative sweep. She put on a light jacket and a pair of stays, as she would need the support. At least initially. But they’re the most basic pair she owns. Easy to mend. Or replace, should he get a little…rough.

Most of all, his gaze is drawn to the juncture of her thighs, and the small, dark patch just beginning to show itself.

He’s scenting the air, isn’t he.

He slips the velvet pouch from his pocket. It’s a small thing. Light. Holds only two, delicate golden ear cuffs, which spill into his palm as he tips it.

He slides the first one up, halfway between the lobe and the point. His Eleanor licks her lips like a degenerate. He’d had the initial idea for this outing, but she’d leapt on it, proposed all of these additions.

The other cuff pinches on his other ear. They’re rather plain, with only the hint of swirled knot work along the sides. But they warm his ears as he speaks the activation. The magic sinks into them and spreads like warm fingers (hers) over his ears.

Until the world muffles itself. The racing rodent hearts disappear. The thunderous pulse of his love fades to nothing. He flails in his mind a moment—not used to this, danger, if he can’t hear, if he’s trapped in silence again—

“Still okay?”

He catches her voice. He can focus on that. He’s deafened as an elf. As a vampire. But they tested these on her, and she notices no difference.

“You poor thing,” he says, because she has to live like this, in such a dim and dull world all the time.

She flips him off. Unfortunately for her, he’s close enough to snap at the offending finger. Slowly, of course. Gives her ample time to pull away and snort. Which makes him want to kiss her.

So he does. Luxuriates in her hot mouth, the slide of her tongue, her scent and that heavy, heady ambrosia of her moon blood.

Gods, he’s glad she doesn’t mind letting him feast upon her like this. He tries to remember the feel of his life before this, before the beach and the tadpoles, and he cannot fathom existing so long without this. Without her.

But before he can be carried away, his Eleanor takes a step back. Her cheeks are flushed. Neck reddened down to where her skin disappears beneath her light jacket and stays and under tunic. Her eyes are pools of heat, her lips already swollen.

Her moon blood—when not crippling her in pain—can sometimes spike her desire. This appears to be one of those times (gods below, there’s a damp spot high on his thigh where he’s already leaking).

She retrieves a bottle from the pack she’s secured to her person. Liquid silver sparkles in the moonlight. His nail beds tingle hard and this time he cannot stop the claws from forming.

“You’re sure?” he says.

His delightful contradiction, no longer a virgin but having lost none of her hidden boldness, only says, “Close your eyes.”

He does.

A year or two ago, he wouldn’t have. Blindness meant vulnerability. Meant unseen blows to unprotected places. Meant clawing starvation hollowing his guts and drying out his flesh, his throat so withered he could barely produce a sound that wasn’t a deathly, rattling click.

Now, as he obeys, a shudder of anticipation shivers down his spine.

He can just hear her uncork the bottle. Cannot hear her swallowing, or the air in her lungs, or the way he imagines her own heart races in lust and anticipation.

Nor can he hear her shift closer. Not until the rustle of fabric reaches him, right in front of him. And the scent of her blood suddenly surges. His lips part as he gasps, and his demented little love sticks two, wet fingers into his mouth and the taste blinds him to anything else.

“Trackers need a sample scent, right?” she says.

She’s stuck her hand down her trousers. She’s smeared his lips and tongue with her blood. Lets him suckle desperately a moment before she steps away, and he’s left to wipe his mouth to ensure no drop escapes.

“You are utterly deranged,” he says.

“Pot kettle,” she says, another of her people’s charming sayings.

She falls silent after that. Astarion keeps his eyes closed, searching the spaces between his teeth with his tongue for any last hints of her.

“Darling?” he says after a moment.

No answer.

His cock throbs. His claws fully extend, his fangs aching.

He counts to forty three times. Opens his eyes.

He’s alone. The clearing is empty, with no trace of his darling. Nothing but her scent floating in the air, an invitation to him.

He nudges the empty bottle she left at his feet. It’s not like her to waste anything. Which means this is a taunt. The cuffs deafen his ears to her, a potion of invisibility blinds his eyes to her. All he has to track her is scent. Her skin, her hair, and the dizzying harpy song of one of his most favorite things: her blood.

He has one job. Well, two, but they’re the same in the end.

Track her. Hunt her. Capture her.

And take her. Any way he sees fit (that they’ve discussed, and she was quite open). Her blood, her body, her sex. She’ll try to evade him. But he will find her. He’ll plunge into her, first with his fangs, then with his cock. Or perhaps the other way around. Perhaps both at the same time. He’s not sure. Didn’t bother to plan that far, because that’s what she likes to do.

He sucks air deep into his lungs: plush grass (her plush thighs on his hips), damp earth (her wet cunt pulling him in), the almost sweet smell of late-summer leaves (her arousal thick as he slips his tongue against her).

There she is. Headed immediately for the thickest part of the underbrush. Hoping to hide her tracks, hide her trail, slow him down.

He imagines her crouched behind a tree. The startle as he grabs her, spins her, pressing her to that tree and the way she’d moan as he slipped inside her…

He reaches into his undergarments and adjusts his cock. Running like this won’t be fun, but it’ll be so, so worth it once he finds his devious darling.

He stops at the edge of the underbrush. Looks to the closest tree: a large oak. They’re all large, with wide, thick branches nearly touching.

Astarion ponders a moment, and then slips off his shoes. He doesn’t technically need to, but it seems the sort of thing to do.

Sets his bare foot on the rough bark, and scurries right up the side of the trunk into the canopy above.

Brush doesn’t matter to a godsdamned immortal vampire, after all.

***

The rest is on AO3 because I wrote like 14k for this, goddamn, and also for the horny.

[fuzzyghost]

[basicallyanotherwitchesthing]

Sexology (sex science illustrated), magazine , April 1961

[muzetrigger]

TIL that Pathfinder 2e not only has the standard sex change potion (Serum of Sex Change) but also the “Elixir of Gender Transformation” which only shifts the drinker’s secondary sexual characteristics and requires regular dosing, and you know what? I appreciate the fact that someone took the time to detail fantasy HRT.

I mean, yeah, there’s an appeal to the whole instant sex change to treat gender dysphoria, but it’s nice to see the writers took the time to think about the nonhero trans people in their setting who can’t afford the original potion. And also I appreciate the option for people without bottom dysphoria. Y’all are also valid <3

[captainhysunstuff]

Uh oh. I dreamed about RadioApple/AppleRadio (Alastor x Lucifer Morningstar and vice versa) from Hazbin Hotel. I’ve been infected. 😅

[jubileemon]

During the first scene in Angel’s dressing room, you can see a heart-shaped bottle on his vanity that looks identical to the one the shark demon later uses to spike his drink. In addition, some of the background elements include posters with Velvette on them that say Love Potion by Velvette, who is stated by Vivzie to be good at making potions. During the scene where Angel and Val are having sex Angel looks like he’s enjoying it.

But then, at the end of Poison, we can see the bottle again, and the level of the liquid looks slightly lower. Apparently, Val has more than one way of overriding Angel’s consent. 😨💔

Despite being the symbol of lust, Asmodeus doesn't approve of non-consensual lust, like giving a love potion to someone to make them sleep with you. As he says, there's no real excitement when you fulfill your base desires in such a quick and easy way. The real spirit of lust as he likely believes is a relationship like Stolas and Blitzo. Two consenting parties having sexual relations in secret despite the social consequences that would ensue if it gets out, unable to resist their desires as they continue sleeping together and digging themselves into a hole deeper and deeper until their secret inevitably becomes public.

[blacklight-animal-print]

anyone who says am is the sex album hasn’t listened to humbug enough. in this essay i will

[skeedelvee]

Carry On Countdown Day 9 - Side Ships/Alternative Ships

For this year's COC I've decided to put together daily fic rec lists! Let me know if you find any new favorite reads from these <3

Today's prompt was pretty straight forward! I've tried to do one each per pairing, but Lamb/Baz/Simon gets two since one is about a relationship and one is just for one night (and also because they're both so good!). There's also a few greats in this vein that will be in upcoming lists!

Jelly Babies and other signs that your roommate probably isn't a demon by Chen-chen-chen-again-chen

Swithin Grimm/Gregory Petty

Rated T, 31,743 words

Based on a prompt from ionlydrinkhotwater: "@carryonprompts can we get a fic of Swithin in Watford developing a massive crush on his roommate and calling big bro Baz for help?" “I.” Swithin doesn’t meet Baz’s eyes directly; he never does. Rather, he looks at a point between Baz’s chin and collarbone. “I think I’ve got a crush on my roommate.” Halfway across town, Simon Snow is sitting in a chip shop and watching his fifteen-year-old cousin Gregory Petty shred a napkin into confetti with the sheer force of his anxiety. “I think my roommate is a demon and that he is literally trying to kill me,” Gregory blurts out.

Thanks Bro by Sipofyoursoul

Shepard Love/Simon Snow

Rated E, 4,786 words

Simon finally has a date with that hot guy Baz, but he's worried his inexperience will ruin things. Shepard, being the awesome dude that he is, offers to help his best bro out.

Sharing is Caring by @philaet0s

Lamb/Baz/Simon (polyamorous relationship)

Rated E, 71,607 words

What if Baz didn’t have to choose between Simon and Lamb? ——————————— Alternative ending to A Study in Time

What Happens in Vegas by Gettingby

Lamb/Baz/Simon (threesome)

Rated E, 4,705 words

Simon and Baz take a trip to Las Vegas for their fifth wedding anniversary. They run into a fit, blue-eyed stranger who gives them more than they bargained for.

to Do, to Know, to Want by @facewithoutheart

Simon/Baz/Gareth

Rated M, 8,446 words

When Simon learns Baz is a virgin, he immediately needs to right that wrong. Not him personally, of course. Why would he? He's straight, and Baz is hot. No, a problem of this scale needs a professional. It needs... the Cherry Plucker.

A Burning Hunger by @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

Simon/Baz/Aged up Humdrum

Rated E, 17,439 words

The Humdrum’s sent a swarm of fornicadas to Watford and anyone that ingests their magickal pheromones will be compelled to have sex until it’s out of their system. But Baz and Simon aren’t the only ones who’ve been affected. So what will the three of them do once they’re faced with the compulsion to fuck one another?

✨Gratuitous self rec✨

A Potion, Four Ways by me! @skeedelvee

Simon/Baz and Penny/Shepard and Agatha/Niamh and Dev/Niall

Rated E, 15,675 words

Four stories connected by a potion that causes temporary sex swaps. Follow along as each couple finds different uses for this magical potion!

If you have any recs that fit the prompt that I've missed, feel free to leave them in the comments! There's plenty of gaps in my reading so there's a good chance I may not have read it

Also I've had a hard time finding if some people are here on Tumblr, so if you know someone who hasn't been tagged, feel free to leave that in the comments as well <3

@carryon-countdown

[thisisntreaver]

The people of Albion, for how stupid we often joke about them being, are incredibly smart and its insane.

Like yeah we know the old kingdom was brilliant with things like the shards, and the potions of life, but even now the people are doing insane shit.

Like potions for example.

The time control and summon creatures ones in 3? The potion makers literally made two different spells accessible to the public. Health potions, ranging from childs medical needs to used by literal soilders, for when you can't afford a doctor or are too far from one and need help immediately? Like yeah people get sick and die, but presumably thats literally just because the potions can't eradicate everything. In 2 theres ones that are literally just there to give you experience, and of course the potion that transes your gender should you desire to take it? Like yeah that one only had one copy, and Leo didn't share his recipe, but if one person could get there surely, eventually others will get to that same point.

The cullis gate system is also crazy despite it being abandoned, as is the guild seal. Like thats basically a fucking cell phone and these people don't even have radio yet. They have literal teleportaion before they have trains.

So much of this does come down to will, but the fact that they're doing stuff like this, and then also not have the forethought to not do things like go into Rookridge unarmed and without any protection is wild

[atsadi-shenanigans]

I'm cooking tonight, lads.

😈

Don't know when I'll be done. I suspect this one's gonna get long. But we'll see.

[suzukiblu]

T'was this one (https://www.tumblr.com/suzukiblu/728053628029616128/wip-snippets-timkon?source=share) but the other was fantastic too! DANG riddler, way to give tim some Trauma TM snickers

Ohhhhh THAT one, haha, yeah, I can give you more of that!

And yes. Much trauma, all for Tim. Superboy, uh . . . kinda came pre-traumatized there, lolsob.

"I'm not mad at you," Kon says just in case Robin remembers this when he sobers up, although he still wants to vomit anyway. All he can think about is . . .

He just doesn't want Robin to go back to normal and have that awful, awful moment where he has to deal with knowing somebody touched him like that when he was out of his mind; when he wasn't in control of his mind.

Kon hates that kind of thing even when he is in control of himself, and can only imagine how much worse it'd be for somebody like Robin. Like . . . just, speaking of control issues and all.

"So you prefer being the one doing the tying-up, then?" Robin muses, and Kon grits his teeth.

"I'm not going to fucking rape you just because you don't know better than to stop me right now," he spits.

"Can't rape the willing," Robin says way too lightly, which at least helps Kon remember that he's out of his fucking mind right now.

"You are literally proving that someone can, actually," he says, glaring at the floor. He doesn't think about–anything. Just . . . not anything.

He doesn't think about–

He inhales. Exhales. Glares at the floor.

Robin's trying to wriggle out of the tangle of the grapple line. Probably that would be working out better for him if Kon weren't literally telekinetic, but whatever. He'd rather deal with feeling Robin squirming in his mental grip than Robin saying–

"Well I know you're willing . . ."

That.

Or . . . anything, maybe.

"I'm actually incredibly sick of other people telling me when I'm 'willing'," Kon says shortly, because he can't think of anything else that might shut Robin up.

"What?" Robin says.

"You heard me," Kon says.

Robin frowns.

"I've seen you look at me, though," he says.

"So what?" Kon says, too tired to even care that he's apparently been that stupid and obvious and that there's probably a Bat-file somewhere with his whole stupid sexuality crisis all broken down in Robin-ese for easy perusal. "I look at a lot of people. Just because I look at somebody doesn't mean I wanna do anything about it."

"Because I'm not a girl?" Robin says, still frowning.

"I don't care that you're a dude, dude," Kon says, which is only maybe halfway a lie. Like, he cares, just . . . not like that.

He doesn't think it's like that, at least.

"You mean you've been raped," Robin says neutrally.

"It's not like they forced me, just–" Kon sighs, rubbing a hand back through his hair. "I mean. Technically, I guess. Legally or whatever."

Statutory rape still counts when somebody grew you in a vat and aged you up with freaky mad science shit and information uploads, right?

. . . actually it might be worse, come to think.

Kon really doesn't want to figure that one out right now. Just . . . no. Definitely not.

Maybe just never, even.

"'They'," Robin repeats. "It was more than one person?"

"Like, not at the same time," Kon says. "But yeah, I guess."

"I'll make it all better," Robin says like the world's most fucked-up promise, and Kon's jaw tightens.

[blujaynoodles]

Ok, but gnome sex is wild, right? You know those guys are out there Innovating.

oh, 10000%!! like, inherently magical race of tinkerers and tricksters who can't stop moving or trying new stuff or they'll die of boredom?? you KNOW they're getting silly with it

[sitp-recs]

I come to order the fics with a good amount of tasty content, you understand me. Something I've noticed (or I'm unable to find on my own) are sexual pollen-themed fanfics (in this case it could also be potions?) The fact is that I look for some fanfic where they are accidentally sprayed with something similar and end up together in some way:3

Hi anon! I’m a bit picky with sex pollen dubcon and don’t read it often so this list is on the short side, but here are some recs for you. I’m sure my followers will be able to share more!

Finding a Cure by @slytherco (E, 4k)

When an antidote mixup leaves Harry under the influence of a lust potion, stranded with Draco in his office after hours, there aren’t many things they can do. Leave it to Draco to do just the right ones.

Incident Reports (That's Not How May Queen Works Remix) by megyal (M, 5k)

Only you, mate, Ron says, and doused with May Queen, honestly, and can't wait for this report.

Sex Ed for Aurors by curiouslyfic (M, 9k)

Some things, you need to learn on the job.

plasticine porters with looking-glass ties by @bonesliketambourines (E, 15k)

Lately, Harry thinks things don’t seem the same between him and Draco. His head is in the clouds when he thinks about what their relationship is now, and where it might be headed—he’s happy with their friendship, but he wants something else. A potions accident over a lunchtime visit to Draco’s lab (what does he get up to in there, anyway?) changes things, though, and accelerates their relationship faster than either of them had ever expected. How are they going to get through this new development together?

Lusimeles by spqr (E, 23k)

“You’re not special, Potter,” Kingsley informs him, not looking up from his work. “But I’ve already done Occlumency training!” Harry splutters, indignant. “And it’s Malfoy.”

Once More With Feeling by InnerLilith (E, 28k)

Draco is dosed with a consummation-compelling potion, with Harry Potter as his intended. It’s a cruel irony, because he’s wanted Potter for years. But not like this. In which the boys try to deal with the fallout from an excruciating fuck-or-die, and end up with much more than either of them expected.

Symptom of Your Touch by NoxNoir (E, 115k)

St. Mungo's Healer Draco Malfoy is used to being pushed to his limits when providing aide to the ailing, but when an unexpected encounter with an out of character Harry Potter throws his life out of balance one night, he is forced to ask himself how far he's willing to push his own levels of discomfort to be of aid to a man in need of help that only he can provide. And once that need for aid is over, how will he find balance in his life again?