#nox shut up

[nox-sssscraps]

ItzSubz off switch

[pose1dson]

happy percy day

[lanseax]

not my manager getting irritated that we were talking about how much we all make and trying to tell us to stop only for the youngest of my coworkers to go "it's not illegal to talk about how much we make, it's seen as unprofessional by the elite as a way to keep their wages low and pay gaps larger"

[treechosen]

got back from running my sister to the grocery store, just to log back on and nox made me CRY

[corruptedcaps]

Bathtub Bitch

Miriam had worked for the Nox family for over a year, enduring the icy glares and sharp words of Chelsea Nox. The beautiful, affluent couple resided in a sprawling mansion, filled with opulence that poor Miriam could only dream of. Chelsea’s cruelty toward her staff was notorious, but she reserved a special disdain for Miriam, her personal maid.

Miriam had wanted to quit for so long but couldn’t afford it. Apart from that though, Chelsea seemed to have an almost supernatural grip on the staff. When it seemed like one of them was about to crack and brake she would take them into a private room and minutes later they would return hopelessly devoted to their mistress.

William, Chelsea’s husband on the other hand, wasn’t as bad as his wife with the staff but he definitely didn’t respect them either. His sex life was strained with his wife and he loved to mess with her by using the staff to get under her skin. She in turn would berate, punish or fire the staff, which would inevitable turn her on allowing the two of them to finally be intimate. Luckily Miriam had been able to avoid being used as a pawn in their sick games but that was about to change….

One afternoon, while Chelsea was out shopping, her husband William called Miriam into the drawing room. He sat behind his large oak desk, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Miriam, I have a task for you." He drawled.

"Yes, sir?" Miriam replied, her voice trembling slightly.

"I want you to clean Chelsea's bathtub." He said his eyebrow raised.

Miriam's eyes widened in shock. "But sir, Mrs. Nox strictly forbade me—"

William waved a dismissive hand. "Chelsea forbade you because she's a control freak. I want you to clean it. Do a good job, and I'll make sure she doesn't know."

Miriam hesitated, the fear of Chelsea's wrath warring with her desire to please Mr. Nox. "If you're sure, sir..."

"Absolutely. Go on, now. I want it spotless." He said, a wicked smile curling his lips.

With a nervous nod, Miriam gathered her cleaning supplies, bracing herself for whatever consequences might come.

Miriam entered the private bathroom, her heart pounding. The room was a sanctuary of luxury, with marble floors, gold fixtures, and an enormous clawfoot tub that gleamed under the soft lighting. As she approached, she realized the tub was already immaculate, looking as if it had been freshly polished.

“It doesn’t look like it needs cleaning at all.” She murmured to herself, but William’s instructions echoed in her mind. She couldn’t afford to disobey him. She was already drowning in her student loans WITH this job.

Determined, she gathered her courage and stepped into the tub. She began scrubbing the pristine surface, her movements careful and precise. The scent of lavender cleaner filled the air as she worked, the repetitive motions slowly calming her nerves.

Suddenly, a loud hiss broke the silence. Miriam froze as the taps turned on by themselves, water gushing out in a torrent. Panic surged through her. She twisted and turned, trying to shut off them off, but they seemed stuck.

“What on earth?” She gasped, her hands shaking as she struggled with the faucets. As the water quickly rose, Miriam’s clothes clung to her, heavy and wet. Only a few inches deep, it was already up to her knees, soaking through her skirt and making her movements clumsy. But then she noticed something strange. The water made her skin tingle wherever it touched. It felt good.

A peculiar sensation spread over her legs and up her body, making it increasingly difficult to concentrate on turning off the taps. She shook her head, trying to clear the fog that seemed to be settling in her mind, but the tingling was growing more intense.

“Ohhh mmmmm what is happening to me?” She moaned, her voice barely audible over the rush of water.

The water rose steadily, now reaching her waist, washing over her panties. The tingling turned into a pleasurable wave as the water soaked her pussy. It spread through her body, making her muscles relax involuntarily. Her fingers slipped off the taps as her strength waned, her thoughts becoming hazy. She couldn’t resist it any longer as her body went limp she slipped under the water.

Beneath the water’s surface, Miriam felt an unusual pressure enveloping her body. Uncomfortable at first but then morphing into a warm hug. It was a hug that seemed to be molding her, reshaping her form.

Her waist began to shrink, becoming slimmer and more defined. She could feel her muscles tightening, her body becoming more toned and athletic. The strange sensation moved upward, and she felt her breasts swell, becoming fuller and perfectly round.

Every inch of her skin tingled as body hair melted away, leaving her skin smooth and flawless. Her fingers, previously calloused from hard work, transformed as her nails grew longer, becoming perfectly manicured.

Her mind drifted in a haze of pleasure and confusion. She was aware of the changes, but they felt distant, almost dreamlike. She touched her new form with trembling hands, the sensations heightened by her newfound sensitivity. She couldn't help but slip her hands into her panties to touch her new hairless pussy.

Were she not underwater, the sounds of her moans would have echoed through the halls of the mansion. Her only annoyance was her uniform which was heavy on her. As if to accommodate her desire, the maid uniform started to dissolve, the fabric melting away like mist. In its place, delicate lace and silk materialized, wrapping around her body to form a set of elegant lingerie. Tall high heels strapped to her sleek feet.

As Miriam floated in the water, fingering herself vigorously the transformation continued. Her hair began to change, each strand thickening and lightening until it became a luxurious mane of blonde. The tingling spread to her face, and she felt her lips plump up, becoming fuller and more inviting.

As her orgasm came to it's climax the water finally started to dissipate down the drain. She watched as remnants of her brown hair colour, her dirty maids uniform and her sensible shoes flowed down with the water. She felt as though it took her identity with it.

She felt new emotions bubbling up inside of her, ones of vanity and superiority. Why should a beauty such as herself be stuck at the lowly station of maid? The water had given her a rebirth and she was not about to squander it. She grinned a wicked grin as she ran her fingers over her remarkable dry body, as if the water had simply pulled off an exterior shell.

She slowly sat up, her movements graceful and fluid. She examined her reflection in the mirrored wall, barely recognizing the stunning woman staring back at her. Her hair was now a cascading waterfall of blonde, her lips full and inviting, and her body perfectly sculpted and adorned in delicate lingerie. She was perfect.

She was so lost in her reflection that she didn't even hear the door creak open and William enter. When he stepped into the bathroom, his face alight with a triumphant grin. However, the expression quickly faltered as he took in Miriam’s new appearance.

“My God, Miriam, I knew the waters would change you, I was banking on it to annoy my wife, but Jesus, you are stunning.” He said his mouth agape.

Miriam turned to him and posed, her confidence radiating. “Aren’t I just?”

William’s awe turned to concern. “But we have to change you back. Chelsea will be furious seeing you like this. In all her years of using the magical tub she has never looked so... so... captivating.” He said, almost lost for words staring at the beauty before him.

A sudden fear ran through Miriam. She didn’t want to lose what she had just gained. She felt better than she had ever felt in her life, powerful and beautiful. Moreover she felt she deserved it, more than that cow Chelsea. She just needed to convince William how superior she was.

Miriam approached him slowly, her movements seductive. “Oh, so it’s you I have to thank for my goddess-like new body,” she said sultrily. “Such a gift deserves a reward.”

Each clop of her heels send a pleasurable shiver down William's back. He gulped as she came up to him, her body emitting a sweet perfume. She smirked at him as she undid his belt buckle, his pants sliding to his knees.

She wrapped her elegant fingers around his erect cock and began to stroke it while maintaining eye contact with him.

"Now William I think that it would be best if we didn't reverse the water's effects on me, don't you agree?" She said with a wicked smile as she worked his dick like a pro.

"Mmmmhmmmm." Was all William could muster.

"After all, think of all the fun it could be to have me as your mistress. That wife of yours has been blue balling you for years hasn't she?" Miriam said stroking his face with her free hand.

"Y-y-yesss she h-h-has. That bitch." He groaned.

"You deserve a woman who can satisfy your needs, who can fulfil every desire." She said in a whisper, leaning into his ear.

"Yes oh god yes!" He said nearly vibrating.

"It's a shame I will only be able to please you when she is not around." She purred feigning sadness as she stopping stroking his cock and turned away.

"N-no wait, there must be something we can do! Please I need you!" He said begging. Miriam loved the sound of his lust for her. She could get used to it.

"Well there is one idea I have." Miriam said turning back around to face him.

"Tell me! I'll do whatever it is!" William pleaded. Miriam grinned and sunk to her knees in front of him.

"Make me your wife and all of this can be yours." She smiled as she ran her tongue up the shaft of his cock making him shiver.

"I-I don't know. That's a lo....otttt ohhhh fuck me!" He moaned as Miriam took his full member in her mouth and began to pump.

"Oh god! Oh fuck yessssss, whatever you say! I'll do it!" He said finally succumbing to her wants. Her lips turned into a smile despite being wrapped fully around his cock.

Miriam had been holding back until now but with his devotion to her locked in she sucked so perfectly that he came within seconds. She swallowed every last bit of his cum down her throat, making him fall to his knees out of pleasure. Miriam stood tall above him, physically representing a shift in their dynamic now.

“Now dear it’s my turn, and I warn you I’m not as easy as a cum as you are.” Miriam said with a smirk as William wrapped his hands around her soft legs.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make you gushing in no time Miriam.” He grinned and was about to dive in but Miriam pushed his head back out.

“Ugh I don’t like that name. Miriam. Sounds so common, so poor. From now on call me… Mercedes.” She said her grin widening. William grinned back and dove straight in.

Mercedes moaned softly as William played her pussy like an instrument. For the second time today she was so engrossed that she didn’t hear the door open.

“William! Who the hell is this slut!” Said a voice they both recognized but when they looked to see the source they were shocked to see the person.

Chelsea was shorter, fatter, and older than either them had ever seen. Mercedes couldn’t believe it, the waters must limit the amount of people it could change at once. With Chelsea changed back to normal it was going to be even easier to take over but no less fun. Mercedes rose to her feet and clopped over to Chelsea who seemed to shrink the closer she got.

“Hello Chelsea, you’re looking positively dreadful. I’m Mercedes and ‘this slut’ as you so elegantly put it is William’s new wife and your new boss.” Mercedes said with a cold smile.

“Excuse me? Wife? Boss? Who do you think you are bitch? Hang on a minute… you’re Miriam aren’t you? You are so fired-” Chelsea said before Mercedes cut her off short as she wrapped her hand around Chelsea’s throat and lifted her off the ground with ease. Mercedes had expected the super strength but she wasn’t going to complain.

“How dare you! You insolent little worm! You shall only address me as Mistress or Mistress Mercedes, understand?” Mercedes said, fire burning intensely in her eyes. Then a strange thing happened, Mercedes watched as all of Chelsea’s resistance began to fade. She lowered her back down and let go of her.

“Of course Mistress, anything you say.” Chelsea said with a small bow. Mercedes felt her pussy tingle with the power of control she had now. She would enjoy making all the staff into devoted slaves. Chelsea’s biggest mistake was never doing it to Miriam.

“Good. Now get out of my sight and get back into uniform. This isn’t your day off you pathetic loser!” Mercedes says with disdain for her new employer.

Chelsea quickly made herself scarce and Mercedes smiled to herself triumphantly. Turning on her heel she approached William with a new plan in mind.

“William dear, I think it’s time we talk about the hierarchy of this relationship.” She grinned evilly as she closed in on him.

---

“Billy! Shelly! Over here at once!” Mercedes yelled into her cavernous home from her deck. Her Valet and Maid arrived within seconds. No matter how many time Mercedes laid her eyes on her old employers it always gave her immense joy to see them so devoted to her. However in this moment she was furious.

“What the hell do you call this?” She angrily said kneeling next to the deck’s glass rail guards.

“I’m sorry Mistress, I don’t understand the question.” Shelly replied fearfully. Mercedes rolled her eyes and grabbed Shelly by the hair and pulled her over to the glass.

“See this spot? It’s unacceptable. What did I say I wanted?” Mercedes growled as she dropped Shelly who scurried back to Billy.

“You wanted it spotless Mistress.” Billy answered quickly.

“Then why the fuck isn’t it?” Mercedes yelled, her voice making the two of them tremble.

“We’re sorry Mistress, we’ll clean it right away!” Shelly said jumping to action with a bucket and sponge.

“See that you do! I have a party tonight and everything has to be perfect! Now I’m going to have a bath and wipe the stink off disappointment off of me. Do not disturb me.” Mercedes said clopping away towards her private bathroom.

Slipping into the waters she felt her bitchy powers rise once again. She was up to nearly 3 baths a day and each time she would emerge feeling even more powerful and bad. She would need it for the party tonight. She had invited all of high society’s biggest players and if everything went as planned tonight she would control the city by morning. She was lucky to be in the bath as the mere thoughts of complete and total control made her pussy gush generously.

[lipglossanon]

December Winds

.・。.・゜❅・.・❅.・。.・゜❅・.・❅.・。.・゜

Priest!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (one shot)

dedicated to you 💀 anon! 💜 I hope you like it!

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, religious connotations, Leon POV, dirty talk, nipple teasing, oral (m & f receiving), rimming (m receiving 🫣), unprotected sex, creampie, kissing, biting, slight blood

kinda beta read by my friend Rex 💜 (only like 80% so any mistakes are my own 😅 )

title from December Winds by Nox Arcana

.・。.・゜❅・.・❅.・。.・゜❅・.・❅.・。.・゜

After Spain, Leon quits. As he tells the president, “I’ve seen enough.” And he meant it. He packs up everything, quietly bids goodbye to the few coworkers he respects and leaves out from Washington DC, praying he’ll never see the place again. 

He searches for a job that’s a little less stressful and a lot more reclusive. He stumbles across an online ad looking for a live-in priest for a small rundown chapel buried in the middle of the Appalachian mountains. A quick search on google maps yields the exact results he’s hoping for—there’s nothing around for miles and miles. 

It’s a cinch to get ordained online and even easier to order the cassock and Roman collar. He already has plenty of black shirts, pants, and even shoes, meaning it’s no sweat at all for him to look the part by the end of the week. 

When he arrives at the small church, there’s a handful of elderly people gathered to give him a short walk through the place. They leave him with plenty of homemade food as well as their phone numbers for the cracked rotary phone in the office in case he needs any help.

The months roll by and slowly bleeds into a couple of years. He always sees the same handful of people at service, sometimes joined by visiting family members, but always a small congregation which is what he prefers. This year hasn’t been any different, that is until a knock rings out in the empty vestibule drawing him up short as he lays out pamphlets for next week's Christmas service. 

Pulling open the heavy oak doors, he’s surprised to see a new face. You stand there shivering in the cold, jacketed arms clutching your middle. 

“H-hi,” you give him a bright smile despite your chattering teeth, “m-my car’s s-s-stuck in the s-snow and—“

Before you can finish, Leon’s opening the door wider, feeling chill bumps race across his arms as the cold winter air gusts past you and into the church. 

“Please, come in,” he steps back so you’ll follow. 

Once inside, he shuts and bolts the door closed. 

“I’m s-so glad someone’s here,” you laugh.

Leon watches you, expression stoic even though internally he’s cataloging every single thing about you with heavy interest. 

He sees your smile tremble a little, your own gaze roving his face. 

“I’m s-sorry to bother you,” you rub your hands together for warmth, “if I c-could just make a call, I’ll b-be out of your hair in n-no time.”

You pull your cellphone out with a frown, “I h-haven’t had service in miles.”

Leon glances down at your hands before looking back up into your face, nervousness radiating from your body language. 

He turns, talking loud enough for you to hear as you follow behind him, “Phone’s in the office. If you can’t reach anyone, I have a number to a local mechanic who can help tow you out.”

“Thank you so much,” your voice sounds relieved, “I hate bothering you, but I really appreciate the help.”

“Of course, it’s what I’m here for.”

He glances back over his shoulder and sees your gaze wandering around the church, taking in the clean if rough hewn pews and stained glass windows. Your eyes cut to his quickly as if you sensed him watching, giving him a shy smile. 

“You have a beautiful church, Mister?”

“Father Kennedy,” he answers, voice a little rougher than intended as you bite your lip in embarrassment.

“Sorry, not really up on my religion,” you laugh a little bashfully, “it’s nice to meet you, Father Kennedy.”

“Likewise,” Leon turns his attention to opening the office door, gesturing for you to enter first. 

His eyes slide down your body, taking in your curves, and shaking away the urge to sink his teeth into your soft neck. You walk over to the old rotary phone, something Leon never updated as it still works just fine. 

“Oh wow, my grandma had one of these!” you grin at him, “it’s so cute that you kept it for your office.”

That dark urge to bite you flares up in his chest again but he shoves it down. He nods at you instead of saying anything and you turn back to the phone. 

Picking up the handset, you frown and click on the dial a few times before setting it back down on the cradle. 

“Seems like your phone’s out,” you bite your lip again, looking agitated. 

Leon shrugs, “Tends to happen this time of year. No telling when it’ll start working again.”

You nod along and blow out a breath, “Okay, we’ll I’ll head back to the car and see if I can—“

“Stay the night.”

That pulls you up short and he wants to laugh at the wide eyed look you give him. 

“Stay here and we can try the phone again. If it doesn’t work, I can walk you to the nearest neighbor and try their phone.”

A soft smile crosses your face and Leon’s hit with an avalanche of impure want purring in his chest. 

“Are you sure it’s no trouble? I mean I’d really appreciate it, but I don’t wanna put you out.”

“No trouble, besides I’m here to help those in need,” a crooked grin slips out, “and you seem to fit that description.”

Another shy bite of your lip has him shifting his feet, willing himself not to do anything to you. 

“Okay then,” you give him the brightest smile yet, “thank you, Father Kennedy. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

A sudden flash of you thanking him on your knees floods his thoughts and he turns away from you, adjusting his half hard cock through his slacks, never more grateful to wear all black than now. 

“Follow me please,” he calls out to you, listening as you quickly walk to catch up. 

He also listens as you introduce yourself and explain as to why you’re out here in the first place, basically boiling it down to visiting some family for the holidays. Nodding along, he guides you into his living quarters which just happens to be a bedroom big enough to house a bed and a desk with a few bookshelves. 

“It’s so cozy,” you gush, running your hand along some of the handmade quilts and crocheted throws the church parishioners have given him over the years. 

“It’s home,” he states simply, moving to the fireplace and stoking the embers into a flame. 

“I’m kinda impressed,” you say as you hang up your jacket near the door, “it’s really rare to see someone so young as a priest in these kinds of communities.”

When he only gives you a deadpan expression, you begin to flounder. 

“Oh I mean, I grew up near here and so I’m just used to like older— you know what, I just feel like I’m digging a hole for myself,” you drag your palms across your eyes, “it’s just different is all. And either way I'm happy to have met you.”

Leon finally lets his lips quirk up into a half smile, amused at your reactions. 

“I understand, it’s just funny to see you try to explain it,” he moves away from the fireplace and grabs a change of clothes, ignoring how your cute pout is making him feel. 

“There’s a bathroom just through that door,” he points to his right, your left, “I’m sure you don’t want to sleep in jeans. There’s also some spare toothbrushes in the medicine cabinet.”

He watches as you get flustered when taking the simple sweats and cotton t-shirt. 

“Oh yeah, thanks,” you duck your head trying to hide your face and disappear behind the bathroom door to change. 

Leon lets out a long breath, trying to ease the tension building up in his chest. The wanting seems to only be getting worse the more time he’s spending with you. It’s like he’s a teenager seeing a skin magazine for the first time. 

Has he really been out here that long without seeing a pretty little thing like you? He’s in the midst of his thoughts while removing his collar and unbuttoning his cassock when he hears a soft squeak. 

He turns to see your eyes shut tight, hands clenching your bundled up clothes to your chest.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to!”

Leon frowns before looking down to see his bare chest offset by his rosary. Heat washes through him to see you peek again and bite down on your lip hard as you turn away. 

“I honestly was on autopilot,” he murmurs, voice rough making him clear his throat, “apologies, I’ll go change in the bathroom while you get settled.”

You gasp as he brushes past you to enter the bathroom. Grabbing onto the sink, Leon stares at his own blown pupils in the mirror. 

Get it together. It’s just a woman. A sweet woman. A pretty woman who probably has an equally pretty little cunt—

Shaking his head to clear it, he finishes dressing for bed. As he brushes his teeth, his eyes wander and notice the toothbrush you used sitting off to the side. A sudden flash of possessiveness surprises him leading him to quickly finish up and make his way back into the bedroom. 

You startle, standing up from sitting at the edge of the bed. 

Hands wringing together, you smile nervously, “Uh I-I wasn’t sure where to sleep? Like I can take the floor—“

He’s shaking his head already interrupting you, “We’ll share the bed. It gets extremely cold at night and it wouldn’t be safe to sleep on the floor.”

You frown over at the bed and look back at him apprehensively, “I can just use the quilts to make a pallet in front of the fire.”

“Please,” he gestures to the bed, “there’s no central heating and it gets deathly cold some nights. Even with the fire, I’d be afraid you would get frostbite.”

“I’ll sleep against the wall,” he softens his voice, “we’ll put pillows between us if you’d like and you can have the edge.”

He watches you bite on that damn lower lip again, wanting it between his own teeth. 

Nodding, your eyes seek out his again, “Okay. And we’ll try again first thing in the morning?”

“Of course,” he agrees easily, “I tend to wake early so I can check and wake you if need be.”

Your features melt from concern to thankful, “That’s very sweet of you, Father.”

A hot pulse of arousal makes his dick twitch but Leon ignores it in favor of offering you a slight smile. 

“Of course. Shall we?” he nods at the bed. 

You climb in after him, settling down under the layers of blankets and quilts. 

“I definitely never would’ve guessed I’d start my vacation by sharing a bed with a priest,” you giggle to yourself. 

“Unusual to say the least,” he dryly replies, sea dark eyes watching as you turn on your side, back facing him. 

You hum softly, shoulders twitching under the shirt and legs swishing under the covers. 

“Good night, Father Kennedy,” your soft voice has him gripping the blanket tightly. 

“Goodnight.”

It’s driving Leon up the wall with how badly he wants to reach out and touch you. Settling a little more, he listens as your breathing evens out and finds his own eyes slipping shut. 

Later in the night, he wakes up to your tossing and turning, feeling you press your ass back against him. He stifles a groan, eyes adjusting to the low light from the fireplace. You keep fidgeting, accidentally rubbing against his chubbed cock until he’s thickening in his sweats. His heavy hand reaches down and grabs you hip, stilling your movement. 

“Sorry,” your sleepily mumble, “‘m trying to get comfy.”

He dips his head down to ghost his lips across the shell of your ear, feeling you shiver, “Doesn’t seem that way to me.”

He rocks forward, letting his bulge rub against your ass; you whine and press back against him harder. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, “I promise I didn’t mean to.”

“Sorry, huh?” he dips his tongue into your ear making you whimper, “are you asking for forgiveness?”

His hand grasps your hip and pulls you into a slow rhythm of grinding back against his stiff cock. 

“Oh,” you mewl as he kisses the shell of your ear, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s not how you ask,” he chuckles, kissing down your neck, “you know better than that.”

You moan as he bites down on the soft skin that’s been tempting him all this time. 

“Forgive me, Father Kennedy,” you break the rhythm and grind back against him harder, “I’m so sorry I’m being so bad. God, can’t believe I’m dry humping a priest.”

A smack lands on your ass making you jump. 

“We don’t take the Lord's name in vain either,” his low voice slips into your ear, “for that, you get those cute little nipples pinched.”

As you moan, he rolls you over onto your back, slipping an arm around your shoulders so both of his hands can knead and grope at your breasts. 

“Pull your shirt up,” he murmurs in your ear, “be a good girl for me.”

You shove the t-shirt up to pool around your neck, hands settling back down to twist in the sheets. His fingers quickly move to circle and pinch your hard nipples. 

“Oh, ohhh,” your eyes squeeze shut as he teases and rubs your hard buds, “Father, please.”

He bites your neck again making you writhe and press your breasts up into his hands. 

“Please,” you whimper, eyes glimmering at him in the firelight, bottom lip swollen from your own teeth. 

“Who knew such a tempting sinful girl would end up in my church much less my own bed,” he rumbles in your ear, grinding against your hip as he teases your nipples. 

“Father Kennedy,” you swipe a soft, pink tongue against your lips, making his teeth ache, “shouldn’t we stop?”

“Do you want to stop?” he kisses your jaw, fingers tweaking your nipples sharply making you moan high in your throat. 

“No, no, please, it’s so—you’re so hot,” you whine, hips squirming for friction under the blankets, “please, Father, want you so bad.”

“It’s a sin to tempt a priest,” he trails his lips across your neck to suck another mark into your skin, “you’ll have to repent.”

“H-how?” your eyes flutter, trying valiantly to stay open. 

He pulls away with a smirk, “You’ll have to use your body in service to the Lord.”

A keening whimper escapes your lips, hands shakily reaching up to run through his sandy blonde hair. 

“I-I’ll do anything,” you scratch your nails along his scalp making him groan, “just show me how I need to repent, Father Kennedy.”

He pulls his arm out from under you so he can climb on top of you, settling in between your thighs. Your hands pull his hair as he sucks a hard nipple into his hot mouth. He ruts against the mattress as he suckles each hard bud, nipping at the soft skin of your breasts and leaving marks everywhere. 

“It’s been so long since I’ve had a pair of tits in my face,” his voice is low, smoky, and he can feel your legs try to press together only stopped by his bulky body.

He takes his time, kissing the areola before running his tongue over your nipple, letting his teeth softly bite down before sucking it further into his mouth. Your hips buck up against his chest as he lays on top of you. He can feel how wet you’ve gotten already, the soft press of your panties against his skin leaving behind a sticky mess. 

He pulls back to look up into your dazed eyes, “Let me taste that wet pussy.”

You moan, hands tensing in his hair, “Y-you want to?”

“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t,” he grins, “besides I wanna clean up that messy cunt with my tongue before you get slick all over my sheets.”

He scoots down, dragging his lips across your tummy and dropping kisses as he goes. 

“We’ll keep the blankets pulled up so you don’t get cold,” he murmurs as he bites your hip bone before soothing it with his tongue. 

You give him a shaky nod, “Okay, Father.”

He bucks his hips at that, feeling his cock leak in his sweats. He feels as you tug the blankets up and when he looks back up he can barely see your face making this seem so illicit and dirty it’s getting him even harder. 

He quickly eases your panties down your legs and tosses them on the outside of the blankets before settling between your legs again. Leon lets his instructive thoughts win and bites bruise after bruise into the dough of your thighs, sucking and worrying the skin until you're squirming against his mouth.  

He bites his way up to the crease of your thigh then lets his tongue trail across your skin until he’s lapping at your swollen clit. He hears as you moan loudly, thighs falling open wider as he hungrily licks into your cunt. 

“You taste like sin,” he groans as he pulls back to spread your pussy open, “so fucking good.”

Pressing his face tightly against your slick coated lips, he flutters his tongue into your soaked hole and grinds his nose against your bundle of nerves. He slips his tongue in and out of your hole before licking back up to your throbbing clit, softly kissing the sensitive bud again and again until sucking it gently into his mouth. 

Sweat beads around his hairline as it grows warmer underneath the layers of covers. Leon mouths at your sloppy cunt until you’re moaning loudly as slick coats his chin and lower jaw. Once your thighs start to tremble, he pulls away and crawls back up your body. The cooler air of the room kissing his sweaty skin as your hands scrabble against his shoulders. 

“‘M so close,” you whimper as you tug him into a messy kiss, “wanna cum, please Father.” 

He clicks his tongue, “You have to work hard for forgiveness,” he presses his thumb down against your chin making your lips part. 

“Maybe we should try filling that mouth up first,” he murmurs, watching as your eyes droop. 

You nod, running your hands down his broad chest, “Please, wanna see you, too.”

Surprise crosses his features, but he schools it into a crooked smile, “Aren’t you sweet? Take your shirt off for me while I get undressed.”

In no time, he’s kneeling between your parted thighs, completely nude save for the rosary around his neck. When he goes to slip it off, your hand snaps around his wrist.

He watches as the embarrassment wars with arousal as you ask him to keep wearing it. His dick throbs and kicks against his thigh and your eyes go lidded as they take in his thick cock.

“Allow me to show you how sorry I am, Father,” you scratch your nails across his chest all the way down his toned stomach to a happy trail that leads to the thatch of hair above his cock. 

Goosebumps travel across his skin when you rub across his hips bones, breath ghosting across the drippy head of his dick. 

Your tongue lathes over the slit, circling his tip and teasing under his foreskin before you pull back. 

That shy look steals over your face, “Can you sit here?”

You pat the gap in the pillows in front of the headboard. Leon’s lips quirk in amusement and shifts to sit with his back to the headboard and legs splayed out across the bed. You move to kneel in between his thighs, eyes greedily taking in his stiff cock. 

He watches as you lean forward, one hand coming up to grip the base of his cock as the other rests on his thigh, and slowly sucks the head of his dick into your mouth. Your eyes shutter with a moan as you take more and more of his cock into your mouth until you choke. 

Pulling off with a gasp, your watery eyes blink open staying on his as you sink back down on his cock. His abdomen tenses and he grabs the back of your neck with his broad palm to guide your head. 

“No need to rush,” his eyes track your tongue as you lick and kiss all along his dripping slit.

“You taste so good,” you moan as you lick your way down to his balls. 

Leon keeps his gaze on you as your wet mouth sucks his balls into your mouth, whining when you can’t fit both at the same time. You smear your face against the spit slick skin of his squishy sac as you nuzzle and suck his taint.  

“Oh, good girl,” he parts his legs wider so your mouth can reach him easier. 

Your glazed eyes slide shut when you slip your tongue down further to ghost across his asshole. Tongue drifting lazily against it, Leon grunts when you finally lick into him. 

“Such an eager girl,” he rasps as you softly eat him out, tongue eagerly rimming his hole. 

You sloppily makeout with his hole as his cock weeps precum everywhere; his own heavy hands keep your face buried between his cheeks. 

When you finally pull back, your chin’s coated with spit. 

“Suck my cock a little more and I’ll fill up that needy cunt,” he pulls your swollen mouth to the weeping head. 

Whining, you easily follow along and let his thick cock sink back into your mouth. He luxuriates in the feeling, the feeling of your hot hungry mouth slurping loudly around his dick. You moan and whine around him, rubbing your thighs together for friction. He smirks to see you acting so needy, so obedient in servicing him. 

“Up,” he murmurs, grabbing your neck and pulling you off of his cock.

Your hands reach out to dig into his pecs, framing the rosary between your hands as you straddle his lap, his cock snugly pressing against your pussy. 

“Oh, Father, please,” you grind down on his wet cock, dragging slick along his throbbing length until your clit’s bumping his tip. 

“Poor little lamb,” his hands grab your hips, letting you rock against him. 

With the grip he has on your hips, he easily manhandles you onto your back, kneeling between your spread legs, cock leaking all over your wet cunt.  

“Oh god,” you mewl, scratching at his chest. 

He spanks your clit with his fat cock. 

“What did I say about taking the Lord’s name in vain?”

Your pupils swallow any color left in your eyes, “‘m sorry, daddy. I don’t mean to be bad.”

“Fuck,” he growls, slapping your cunt with his cock over and over to make your hips jump, “are you misbehaving on purpose?”

Head shaking no, you wrap your legs around his waist, “No, I didn’t mean— it just slipped out. I‘m sorry, Father Kennedy.”

He nudges the tip of his cock into your hole, making you keen and rock down. The pressure around just the head makes him want to be rougher, meaner with you.

He grins smugly down at you, “You just can’t help it, can you? The wetter this pussy gets the dumber you are, right? What a slut.”

You whine, the heels of your bare feet digging into the back of his legs, goading him to slide deeper into your cunt. 

“Yes, I’m your slut, Father,” your hands tug on his rosary making him groan and fuck his dick into your spasming cunt. 

His heavy weight drops over your body, earning another low whine followed by your nails scoring a hot trail across his shoulders. He shudders, enjoying that small bite of pain as your eyes roll back in your head, pussy sucking him in even deeper somehow. 

“Pretty cunt just needed me buried balls deep in her, huh?” he groans as he pulls out just to sink back into your pussy, “so tight.”

“W-wait,” your voice goes high with sudden realization, “I thought p-priests were banned f-from having sex,” you gasp out, stuttering through Leon’s thrusts. 

“Baby,” he coos condescendingly, “you don’t think I was some silly little virgin, did you?”

He boxes you in even more, dropping down on his forearms that rest on each side of your head. 

“But I gotta say, you’ve got the best pussy I’ve ever fucked,” he kisses your mouth, “so wet,” he drops another kiss to your lips, “and tight,” and another kiss ending with a rough bite of your bottom lip, “this kitty’s been purring for my dick all night.”

Your head thrashes against the pillow at his words, “Yes, yes, fuck,” tears drip from your lash line, “it’s so good, Father Kennedy.”

Molten heat rushes through his veins at your wanton face paired with that sweet voice. His teeth sink into that plush bottom lip, suckling on it until you tug your head back with a soft cry. It’s swollen and split from his teeth, a small bead of blood welling up only for him to lick it away with a groan.  

He licks into your mouth, mixing spit and blood until he’s sucking your tongue past his own greedy lips. His cock slowly ruts in and out of your clenching hole as he kisses you breathless. Your fingers tangle in his rosary, tugging him back to your mouth every time he goes to pull away. 

Leon lets himself go; stops trying to control himself and settles into fucking into your warm, wet cunt with harsh skin slapping thrusts. He bites anywhere his mouth can reach, leaving dark bruises or even outright bloody teeth marks behind. His dark eyes keep track of your pleasure as well; if you wince, he makes sure to lathe his tongue across a bite instead of sinking his teeth into you again or fucks his cock shallowly into your pussy instead of knocking against your cervix how he likes. 

You reward him with pretty little cries and pleads against his lips; your doughy thighs clasped tightly around his waist as you beg for him to ruin your cunt. He wrings orgasm after orgasm until your body’s spent and you're babbling incoherently. 

He keeps you underneath him all night, trading blood tinged kisses as his cock stuffs your squelching pussy. Sunlight begins to stream through the snow tinted windows when he finally manhandles your body to straddle over him once again. 

Leon feels like this must truly be what heaven is like. You, seated in his lap as he buries his cock to the hilt in your hot little cunt watching as you grind down against him. Fat dimples between his fingers as he grips your ass tightly, helping you keep rhythm as he bounces you up and down his dick. 

“Oh Father Kennedy,” you whimper, “I can’t, I can’t—“

“Yes, you can,” he murmurs, easing your harsh grind into a slow back and forth, “you can give me one more so I can feel that pussy squeeze me so I can put a nice thick load in her.”

His fingers slowly circle and pinch your pudgy clit, letting you rock against him a little faster. 

“Oh, I’m-I’m g’nna,” you hiccup a sob, tears dripping from your eyes as he works your exhausted body towards another orgasm. 

“Call me, Leon,” he smiles at you, the first genuine one he’s actually offered to anyone in quite a long time, “now cum for me, squeeze me nice and tight.”

“Leon, Leon, I-I’m cumming,” you gasp out, a mewling cry slipping past your swollen lips as your pussy milks Leon’s cock for the upteenth time since this all started. 

“Good girl, so good for me,” he groans, letting your climax coax his own from him, grabbing your hips to hold you snug to him. 

He growls up at you, cock jumping inside your spasming pussy as rope after rope of sticky cum spurts inside your fluttering walls. 

 “Leon, oh, it’s so warm,” you whimper, one hand settling on your belly and the other resting on Leon’s heaving chest. 

“Fuck,” he yanks you down into a messy, spit filled kiss.

You whine and he softens it, titling his mouth up to press softer kisses to your lips until pulling away. Easing down next to him, you snuggle into his side, burying your face in his neck. 

“So am I forgiven now?” you tease, fingers tracing over the beads of his rosary. 

“Might need to spend some time with me in the confessional,” he presses a kiss to your hair, “just to make sure it takes.” 

[ibbythebee]

Hospital Wing Hermits

gif credit: @handknit on wattpad

pairing: Neville Longbottom x year younger!reader

summary: From Neville's second year at Hogwarts to his last, his most memorable times with you have been spent in the hospital wing.

genre: fluffiness all round, slight angst at the end... but only a little, slow-burny

warnings: this fic is so soft that you will potentially combust, slight swearing, SO MUCH hand holding, the reader is an oblivious goofball until she's not, kissing, talks about illnesses and injuries, blood and boogers

words: 6k

masterlist

»»————-　⌁　————-««

Neville's 2nd Year

Clutching onto Madame Pomfrey is nothing new to Neville. In the middle of the night, however, is a different story. The Nurse coos whenever the boy makes the slightest sound of pain, holding him up as not to put anymore pressure on his right foot.

"We're just about there, dear. Come on, just a few more steps..."

Leading him to the middle of the hospital wing's room, she then guides him onto an untouched bed, and immediately slides a pillow underneath his ankle. A spot of light on the opposite side of the room does not go unnoticed to either the woman or boy as soon as they had entered the room.

Neville rubs his eyes, squinting at the strange glowing mound of sheets. He watches as, with a sigh, Madame Pomfrey marches to the other preoccupied bed and pulls over the white covers to reveal you, a sheepish looking girl.

Under the light of your wand, your face looks puffy, lips and nose chapped, hair amuck. You cough into your elbow and smile a toothy innocent smile, batting your big eyes at the woman, silently pleading your innocence.

Pomfrey, however, does not play games. "Turn off that incessant light, Miss L/N. Do you realise what time it is?"

Your lips shape into a pout, voice stuffy as you answer. "But Madame Pomfrey, it's so boring here. I'm bored."

"No, you should be asleep. Turn that off right now. I don't want to have to send another owl to your mother about you refusing medical help."

"Just a few more minutes please? I'll finish the page I'm reading."

"Absolutely not. It's basic manners and respect for your fellow peer." She motions to Neville, and you finally turn to him.

Despite the fatigue in your features, your eyes seem to glow, piercing through the dark room. Perhaps it's just his lack of sleep or absence of light, but there is something drawing him to you and he fails to look away. Nothing comes out of his mouth even though he knows he's probably supposed to greet you, but neither do you.

A second longer you stare at your new roommate and in eventual defeat, you pout. The light from your wand fades, as you mumble 'nox' under your breath and get comfortable under the blankets.

Satisfied, Madame Pomfrey clears the rubbish bin underneath your bed and turns back to Neville handing him a small flask of some sort of healing potion.

"All right. Off to bed now both of you. Good night, dears."

You both mutter a 'goodnight', closing your eyes, gingerly pulling the covers up to your chins.

It stays mostly quiet in the room, apart from the Nurse's shuffling. Though as time passes, shoes click and click away, and then the door creaks shut.

"Psst!"

Neville stirs.

"Hey, psst!"

"Huh?" Is all Neville can manage, lifting his head with a groggy squint.

"What happened to you?" You ask in a loud whisper and sniffle. Sitting straight, and staring right at him. Your eyes really are big, inquisitive.

"Well I... twisted my ankle," he finally says.

"How?"

"I... I'd rather not say. It's embarrassing, really."

"I won't tell anyone," you say as-a-matter-of-factly. "You can hex me if I do."

He looks at you through narrow eyes again and this time it's your teeth that glow. As you show no interest in falling asleep, Neville's neck admits defeat and his head crashes back down onto the pillow. "Can we just please go to sleep?"

"I caught a cold... or maybe a fever. Runny nose—" you sniff, wiping your face with your pajama sleeve "—wet cough, high temperature. My mum says I have a weak immune system."

"Well, that's not very good, is it?" He comments half-heartedly to the ceiling.

"No, it isn't."

Silence. For a moment, he believes that you've finally surrendered yourself.

"So how'd you twist your ankle in the middle of the night?"

Never mind.

"You don't seem like a rule-breaker," you say.

He carefully shuffles up to sit and sighs. Where on earth did you get your energy from? He hadn't met such a talkative first year before.

Neville takes a moment to answer, debating on whether or not you're harmless enough for him to be vulnerable. "I had a nightmare, okay? I fell off my bed and... landed badly."

"Well, that's not very good, is it?" You echo.

"No, it isn't."

Silence once again ensues, but this time Neville's ready for your chatterbox mouth.

"What's your name? I'm..." You suddenly stop and he nearly laughs when your silhouette jerks and you sneeze. It's loud, like his Gran.

"Nice to meet you, Achoo." He chuckles, holding a hand over his mouth.

You sniff again, face hot in a new wave of humiliation, and this time you wipe your face with more aggression. "Hey, that's not funny! My name is — A-ACHHHOO!"

"Isn't that what I just said?" He can't help but laugh again. Relishing in the groan you emit and how furiously you blow your nose.

With a poke of your tongue, you retort. "Whatever, Mr... mm... Fall-out-of-bed...n-nightmare-broken-ankle-boy."

"Wow, that's really fantastic, Achoo." He slides back down into his bed, closing his eyes with content and tries to hold in his giggles as you continue with determination to clear up your mistake.

Initially, Neville thought he wouldn't even be able to get in a nap, but now with the understanding that you bark more than you bite, he creates a silly image of you in the form of a puppy. As your voice rings in the background, the puppy image barks with you, and he feels his eyes grow heavy, falling into a content and nightmare-less sleep.

»»————-　⌁　————-««

Neville’s 4th Year

Ever since sleeping the night in the hospital wing, Neville knew he'd be seeing more of you. It was surprising to him that he hadn't noticed you before that night, especially seeing as you were such a social butterfly. And despite being in the year below, he'd always manage to catch your eyes in the Great Hall. And in the courtyard. And in the halls. And through a classroom window. You were everywhere and anywhere. And when you weren't, you were in bed in the hospital wing.

Just like you are now. The fourteen-year-old hadn't seen you for the past few weeks after the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, and needless to say, he had to see you.

And such a perfect opportunity had arose today, albeit a painful one, but an opportunity none the less.

Neville opens the door to the wing as gently as possible as not to wake you, however knowing you, you probably already were.

Entering the room, he clutches his sore hand to his ribs and cranes his neck to spot the nurse. Instead he finds your lying form under a mountain of blankets.

You stir, and Neville curses at his shoes for making so much noise. Sure, his intention of coming here was to see you, but he’d seldom seen you in such a peaceful state and didn’t want to ruin that for you.

“Neville?” He hears you say and then you’re facing him.

He smiles down at you, with a voice just as soft as silk. "Hey, Achoo. Didn't mean to wake you. How you feeling?”

“I’m feeling alright. Kinda headache-y, but fine. Ugh, what time is it?” You rub your eyes and stretch as you sit up.

The messiness of your bed-hair is incredibly endearing and the curve in Neville’s lips only grow at the sight.

“It’s third period.”

“Then… what are you doing here? Are you hurt?”

You’re suddenly on your feet, eyes round and wide, taking in the scene of the tall boy. He flinches, attempting to hide his hand in his robe sleeve.

You snatch his hand, bringing it close to your face. It’s a burn. All over the back of his palm. "Bloody hell— Where's Madame Pomfrey?"

"I was about to ask you the same question." A small chuckle falls from his lips as you examine him. Somehow, in some miracle he watches your big eyes grow larger as you twist his hand, move his long fingers to get as much information about his wound.

He feels like he’s going crazy, your touch is a new kind of burn on his skin. It doesn’t sting, but it is hot. And you don’t even know you’re causing it.

"She's always gone when you actually need her,” you huff.

"It's not as bad as it looks, really. Just hurts a little when I move it."

"What about when I...?" You drift off, as you slide a delicate thumb over his beet-red knuckles.

The tips of his ears turn the same shade of red. "Stings."

With no further words, he lets you pull him to one corner of the hospital wing, searching for a particular ointment on the many shelves of medical supplies. You don't let go of his hand, and he doesn't dare pull away.

"Let me guess how it happened—" you say, grabbing a round jar of blue gel to read the label.

"Seamus." You both state and then share a laugh.

Placing the jar back, you continue your search and Neville fills the comfortable silence. "It's Potions class. For once I thought I was doing pretty decent and then next thing I know, Seamus' cauldron blows up next to me and of course I get the damage."

His hand is held up to your face again and he watches as you grab a new jar with a less solid looking gel, creamy in colour.

"I suppose it's a good way for me to get out of the rest of the class," he shrugs.

"And get away from Snape," you quip and earn a chuckle from him. There was a time in Neville’s third year, when you had come to learn about his amusing boggart. He’d snuck into the hospital wing, claiming he had a nasty headache and ended up staying the night, neither of you getting a wink of sleep. It had also been revealed that the thing you were most frightened of was giants.

“Sit down,” your motioning to the mattress behind him.

He does so without question, still attached to you by your pinkie, making himself comfortable on the edge of a neatly tucked bed. He follows your every action as you place the ointment jar beside his thigh and open the lid. You scoop a teaspoon amount with your fingers and lifted his burnt hand again.

Before the cream touches his burn, you begin to tell him about what illness you've caught today and he barely feels the sting of the medicine. There's no better spell or potion to kill pain than your voice, that much was evident even back when he first met you.

Concentration laces your features and unbeknownst to you, your hips hit the edge of the mattress, unaware to the fact that Neville's knees are on either side of you.

The sight of you between him for some reason makes it difficult for him to swallow. The urge to trap you with his legs increases by the second. "Hey, Y/N?"

You wipe off excess ointment on your pajama top and turn your attention to him. He rarely called you by your first name. Something's up.

"Yeah?"

"Well, the erm... You know in a week or so?"

"Mhm?"

There's a pause as he searches your eyes for confidence, then he finally announces. "Would you say you're a good dancer?"

Creases form between your brows and you pout at the question, really thinking it over. If there was anything else Neville had learnt about you was that you always answered his queries with great interest and thought. You never treat his questions as though they're dumb, and he’s come to adore you for that.

As you ponder, he slides his non-burnt hand under yours, idly fiddling with your delicate fingers; tracing around the length of them, lifting them up and dropping them one by one, and eventually laying his palm flat on top of yours. Were his hands always this big?

The tips of your fingers tap-tap against his, as you finally answer. "I suppose... I would like to think I am."

"Well... that's good to hear."

"What about you?"

"Oh me?" He finds your face and swallows thickly. "I've been practicing lately, so I can only hope I've improved."

A giggle breaks free from your lips and it’s music to his ears. "Practicing? Whatever for?"

"The Yule Ball, of course."

"The..." The creases near your brows form again. "I've completely forgotten about that."

He squeezes a finger of yours. "So, no one's asked you yet?"

You sneeze into your elbow and then for a second time, and your voice becomes stuffy to the amusement of Neville. "Asked me what?"

"Asked you to be their date, of course."

"Oh. No." Scoffing. "Being stuck in here means no social-life. And besides—" You spin around quick to grab a roll of bandage, and gingerly flatten it over his burn "—who's gonna want to dance with someone who sneezes every five minutes?"

"I would."

"That's what I thought — wait... you would?"

In an effort to look nonchalant, Neville shrugs, finding interest in a bird that's flying near the window. The tips of his ears poking out of his shaggy hair are giving you a different response, they're blushing.

You finish with his wound and step away from the bed, fingers feeling cold when you let go of him.

Upon inspection of your medical handiwork, he smiles gently. He hadn't felt a thing. "Thanks for this."

"I... I can't guarantee that I'll be completely healthy that day," you say.

"The Yule Ball?"

You nod in an almost embarrassed way, as you fiddle with the collar of your sleeping clothes.

Neville just shakes his head. "The suit my Gran got for me has a lot of pockets so I’ll carry all your tissues for you. Or anything else you might need, I'll keep them for you."

"That'sssss.... ACHHU!"

"Bless you. So what do you say? Would you... want to go with me? Maybe? I promise not to step on your feet."

"Miss L/N?! What on earth are you doing out of bed?!"

"MADAME POMFREY!" You both exclaim, faces and necks feeling hot.

"Come on, dear, why don't you ever follow simple orders?!"

Mumbles of pathetic protest fall from your lips as the woman drags you back to the other side of the room. You knock into Neville’s knee on the way and so he’s quick to follow behind you with his own incoherent babble about the burn on his hand.

You're settled under the blankets once again and watch as the nurse's eyes bulge at the sight of the tall boy's perfectly cared for palm. She inspects the bandage, inquires about the pain and what the cause was, all while Neville can't keep the flushed look off his face.

"She— well... Y/N helped me out. It doesn't hurt anymore, I'm fine now, Ma'am."

As the said woman keeps a hold of his hand, she turns to you with daggers. "What did you use? A potion? Spell, perhaps? Mr Longbottom could have severe side-effects if you're not careful."

"He won't," you grin toothily as you did back in your first year and point to the shelf in the right corner. "I used the ointment that you gave Theodore Nott not that long ago. Haha, Nott not."

Neville stifles a laugh, and isn't surprised when the nurse doesn't question you further. You might be the only student that can get away with arguing with Madame Pomfrey.

The nurse's face instead takes the form of an appreciative and impressed expression. It's only natural that with your ‘weak immune system’, you've gained as much medical knowledge as you have colds and flus.

"I'll admit, you've done a splendid job with Neville. However, you simply cannot use whatever you like, whenever you like, on whomever you like. Next time this happens you need to wait for me to return, alright? Is that understood?"

Taking a glance at Neville's sheepish state, you sigh and nod in response.

"And Neville dear, don't encourage this behaviour. Especially not from Miss L/N."

"Okay, Ma'am."

She gives the boy a goodbye and immediately turns to you, a full on lecture spilling from her mouth. He isn’t supposed to leave yet, not when he’s just finally had the courage to ask you out.

Neville finds your helpless gaze behind the woman’s shoulder, and sends you a sad sort of smile before turning on his heel to get to the door.

"I-I'll go with you!" You yell.

The tall boy pauses, heart flipping at your words.

"To the Yule Ball."

There’s no stopping the grin that forms, and he finally nods after a second, hair shaking with the action.

Your eyes speak to him as your own smile appears.

Meanwhile, the woman huffs and puffs, cleaning the area around your bed. "Not in this state, you won't."

»»————-　⌁　————-««

Neville's 5th Year

The last time Neville was in the hospital wing, he'd come to talk to you about his recent endeavours in Herbology and let slip that he's been secretly practicing defensive magic with a group of other students, being taught by none other than Harry himself. There was no doubt that you would also be trusted enough to join, however seeing as you were once again bed-ridden, it felt best to keep it a secret until you got better.

Now it wasn't a secret anymore, and each time he'd visit you'd ask him to put in a good word with Harry, with the group. Neville always said he would, but he never did, fearing that Professor Umbitch would eventually catch onto you and you'd have to pay the ultimate price.

Karma is an Umbitch, however, and now it looks as if the only answer to Neville's current predicament is to let you join Dumbledore's Army, despite all his worries and his efforts to stop you from doing that.

Today’s DA training has been cut short, due to the fact that the fifteen-year old is now incapacitated. Blood refusing to slow down from his nose.

Going to Madame Pomfrey would've required him to come up with a believable story as to what happened, so the next best thing was to send for you, someone who already knows about this secret group.

"Neville!" A Ravenclaw boy shouts, interrupting his thoughts. "Your Bogey Bug is here— ow!"

Someone smacks the kid, and then suddenly the Weasley twins are leading you into the Room of Requirement. You stand over him, adorning new pajamas he hadn't seen before.

"Hey Achoo," he weakly smiles. "Thanks for coming."

The DA gather around, as you crouch to his side and immediately take the cloth he's been holding to his nose. You make a face at him. “Oh Neville… what are we going to do with you?”

A fresh line of blood rolls down to his lip, so you let him leave the fabric there to sink it in.

"Keep your head steady, okay? Don't lean back, just let the blood flow for now."

"I think my nose might be broken?"

"Neville, I swear to..." your head spins sharply, and a few students flinch. "Who did this?"

"We were practicing stupefy," the familiar voice of Seamus answers and immediately your tense shoulders relax seeing his face emerge behind the twins. "I didn't mean to. I swear, Y/N."

"He really didn't mean to," Neville echoes.

You sneeze into your elbow and shake your head, palm making contact with your cheek. "See, this is why you should’ve told me about this secret army group thing so I could've joined and stopped something like this from happening.”

"I'm sorry."

You take Neville's hand again and lift the cloth, checking over the damage. There is damage, alright. You try not to make a show of wincing, fearing that the brown-haired boy would get anxious by your reaction, but his nose really does look quite out of sorts. Out of line. Broken.

He realises you haven't said a word in a while and smiles again, "you can fix, can't you, Achoo?"

"I told Neville I could treat him, but he kept refusing and insisted for your presence," Luna's soft voice interrupts as she crouches down beside you.

Someone amongst the crowd starts to coo and the tips of Neville's ears manage to turn beet red, more so when you turn your attention to him, expression unreadable.

Luna carries on, eyes focused on you. "He wouldn't let anyone touch him. Not until now, anyway."

"Okay!" A sudden clap startles even Luna, and you all turn to the perpetrator. Harry Potter's back is turned to your direction as he addresses the crowd, "I think we'll call it a day. Neville needs his strength and so do you."

The crowd murmurs, exchanging pouts and disappointed shrugs.

"Be proud of yourselves, you all did brilliantly today. Each and every one of you have improved. Next time we get to meet we'll continue with the Patronus Charm."

"What about Bogey Bug? How do we know she's not gonna rat us out?" A girl in Hufflepuff asks.

Neville sees you stand up, slapping a hand over your chest. "I swear on my life and the life of Neville—."

"Hey!"

"—that I will not snitch on this group or expose any of you. I promise to be loyal and keep my mouth shut about this."

Some faces don't seem convinced, as more murmurs and chatter erupt.

"She can be our nurse!" Neville exclaims, stealing everyone's attention. It's time to put in that good word for you. "We won't have to go to the hospital wing if Achoo— I mean, Y/N is here. She's really good at what she does. Plus, I accidentally told her about the army about a month ago and she hasn't told a soul since. I do..."

Your big eyes soften when he turns to you.

"...I trust her with my life."

"All right then," Harry claps once more. "All those in favour of Y/N becoming part of the army, raise your hand."

A few hands come up, whilst others whisper for a moment. One more, then four more, and then more hands raise faster than you can count them. You and the broken-nosed boy share grins, as you squeeze his free hand.

"That's it then. Y/N, welcome to Dumbledore's Army."

»»————-　⌁　————-««

Neville’s 6th year

Following the events of the previous year of school you and Neville had grown ever closer. Outside of the classroom you'd never be seen without the other. Inseparable. There'd even been a rumour going around that you were dating, but you always denied such claims and Neville could only comply. He hadn't yet told anyone about his feelings for you, although it seemed that those in his close circle were figuring it out on their own.

After having looked like a lost pygmy puff in the Great Hall, Luna found Neville and mentioned to him that you looked 'out of sorts' during class. He hadn't even asked about you. She just knew to tell him.

So, it’s only fitting for him to be by your side now, during lunch hour.

You’re shivering underneath all the sheets and blankets, and yet as Neville glides the back of his fingers across your forehead, you’re sweating as well.

“Hang in there Achoo, you’ll be fine in no time. The spell will take effect.”

You can only give so much as a nod, and groan when your lower abdomen tightens with a deep, stabbing ache.

“Shh,” Neville smooths his delicate fingers over your forehead again, tucking loose strands back to their place with the rest of your hair. “I'm here. Do you want me to distract you with anything?"

"Anything," you squeak, eyes shut tightly as if doing that would stop your cramps and make you fall asleep faster. "Please."

"Alright, erm..." He slides his tongue over his bottom lip and leans in closer to you, elbow pressing into the mattress. "I suppose I can tell you about a dream I had not long ago. You were in it."

"The Hippogriff one?" You tremble.

"No, this is a new one," he smiles when you meet his gaze, finding your fingers peeking through the sheets and taking them into his hands. "It's really stupid, as dreams usually go, but I really like it."

Your fingers are stretched out, as Neville begins to trace over your palm. First he draws a circle and you giggle a little at the feeling.

"This is me," he draws a triangle, "and this is you. It seems like any ordinary day, except you and I have the same classes. In the dream we're both popular. Everyone cheers for us when we get good marks, and even Professor Snape smiles at you."

"No way."

He laughs and traces a shape with lots of spikes. "Yes way. It really seems too good to be true, because there's even a moment where we successfully sneak out at night, we're just in our pajamas and we're watching the stars from the astronomy tower."

"I'm waiting for the 'but'."

"But — here comes the stupid part — you just start flying out of nowhere. One second you're next to me, the next you're just in the sky. I'm freaking out trying to reach for your hand, but you're just so calm about the fact that you mysteriously gained the ability to fly."

You're giggling again, especially as he slaps your palm a few times to emphasise the story. "Accurate reaction."

"And then it just ends with me being able to breath fire."

"What?" You laugh, brows pulling together in amusement. "I wonder what Professor Trelawney would say about that. What all of it might represent."

He draws a line on each of your fingers, slow and tickly. "If it's anything like I've been told before, it probably means bad luck."

"Well I was also in the dream with you, so we'll go through the bad luck together." To his surprise, you thread your fingers through his and squeeze. You're not trembling anymore, you haven't been for the past minute or so, and it doesn't feel like you're being stabbed over and over in the stomach.

"Think you can sleep now?" He asks, fingers hesitantly unravelling.

You nod, grinning at him, those eyes of yours finally shining as bright as they usually do.

"Want me to go get Madame Pomfrey?"

You shake your head. And then your arms are around his neck, head tucked in the space between your bicep and his jawline.

It feels like a millennium till he returns your gesture, arms securing around your waist and back, pulling you in tightly and desperately. The mix of the wing's clinical scent and the smell of baked desserts fills his nose. He could've sworn he'd smelt something like this during Potions class.

"Stay with me," you purr. "Please."

He knows he has class in ten minutes, he knows he can't skip, he knows he'll get in trouble.

So with your arms determined to remain wrapped around each other he bends over, moving till your head meets the pillow. He kicks off one of his school shoes. Then the other.

You feel his knees dip into the mattress beside your thighs, and then you have to part for a moment as he slips under the blankets, his head settling on the pillow right beside yours.

When he's comfortable, you take one of his hands and lower it until he brushes over your clothed belly.

Keeping the heat from entering his ears and cheeks is impossible, as his hand flattens over your stomach, shock evident in his features from your bold action.

"Could you keep it there?" You say, when you feel his uncertainty. "It'll help if the cramps come back." Your own hands smooth over his, trapping him there.

"I will." He swallows thickly. "Are you comfortable?"

You nod. "Are you?"

"Absolutely. Yes. I am."

A content breath passes your lips and you smile, all giddy like, at the ceiling. "Thank you for being here. For being with me always. For not making fun of me being sick all the time. Not calling me Bogey Bug. For... for just being you. For being my most favourite person ever."

"I could really say the same about you." Both your voices are barely above a whisper, seeing as your faces are so close together.

"Thanks Neville," you turn to him, and tap the back of his hand on your belly.

You stare at each other for a moment, and for some reason it doesn't feel wrong. It's not awkward.

Neville breaks the silence. "You... you know how everyone keeps saying that we're... you know going out?"

"Yeah."

Neville pauses for a second, you're staring so intensely, pupils large and beautiful. He tries to swallow past the lump in his throat and squeezes the material of your clothes. He can talk to you, he can ask you the question. He's battled against Bellatrix Lestrange before, he's been put in Gryffindor for a reason. He can ask you. "What do you say we make those rumours... not rumours anymore?"

The corners of your mouth twitch. "You-You mean... you mean like...?"

"Yes. Like that. Like... I want to spend the rest of my life with you, sort of way."

You don't say anything.

He continues, with a small bite of his lip. "Like... I'm completely mad for you and if I don't tell you now I don't think I'll ever get the chance to again."

"This... isn't a dream, is it?"

"Can I prove to you this isn't a dream?"

"Okay."

And it really feels like a dream, as his face leans in and you feels his lips press against the corner of your mouth.

"Did that help?" he whispers.

You twist around to lay on your side, guiding Neville's big hand up to your waist. "You missed, Neville."

"What?"

"You missed."

This time you both lean in, and this time Neville doesn't miss.

»»————-　⌁　————-««

Neville’s 7th year

The last Horcrux has been destroyed, Voldemort's killed, the Death Eaters have fled. New life has been brought to Hogwarts, sun pooling through the shattered windows of the Great Hall.

People sit on broken stools, torn and ashy blankets, chatter quiet and solemn. A few people manage to tell jokes and liven the mood, others cuddle, kiss, crying tears of relief. Nurses scamper around tending to the badly wounded.

Only...

As Neville limps his way through the hall he desperately scans over the crowds only to realise you're not here. You're not by Madame Pomfrey. You're not by Luna either. Neville finds Ginny's tired but hopeful figure and before he can tap her shoulder, she's already turned to him with a gentle smile.

She shakes her head before he even has a chance to speak. "I haven't seen Y/N. Not since... well not since she took care of Freddie. 'M sorry Neville."

"No," he shakes his head and gives the girl a gentle hug when her voice wavers and her bottom lip quivers. "No, I'm sorry."

"You helped kill Voldemort. That's hardly anything to be sorry for," she smiles again as they part, softly pushing at his shoulder to leave. To keep searching for you. "Don't worry, I'll keep an eye out for her."

Neville sends her a purposeful nod and turns to leave, the sword of Gryffindor still snug in his hand. At times he uses the weapon as a crutch, the pain in his everything starting to take a toll as previous rushes of adrenaline begin to fade. The only thing keeping him going is the thought of you. You and your sneezes, your messy hair, your often nasally voice, your big eyes and equally big grins. You.

He passes what looks to be remnant of the hospital wing's door, merely a pile of wood chips and metal beams now. He hears the distant tweet of a bird, the pitter-patter of loose rubble and someone's sneeze.

The sword clangs to the ground and he's sprinting. Neville rounds the corner of the entrance to the wing and he stops, breath heavy, vision blurry.

You're there, and you're already staring at him, your grin so large and your eyes even more so and you're holding onto something familiar.

"N-Neville?" your voice is soft and so stuffy and gorgeous.

"Achoo, good Godric." His sore legs carry him to your side, and you're running toward him, arms open. And then you jump and he completely forgets about how much pain he's in when he catches you.

You cling to his sweater, to his shoulders, to his neck, to his waist, squeezing him with every bit of strength you've got left.

He's grasping at your hoody, your waist, your hair, your skin, he's touching all of you, scared that if he'll let go you won't be there anymore.

"I love you so much," he says through a trembling voice.

You pull away slightly and return your feet to the ground, legs unwrapping from his hips. You crane your neck to kiss his jaw, and then you kiss his cheek and his other and then finally his lips. And it sets your heart on fire, full of adoration and care and relief. You don't ever want to stop feeling him here, his supple lips against yours, especially as his hands cup your jaw, reeling you in for more and more.

"I love you Neville," you cry when you finally have to pull away to catch your breaths. "Ever since I first met you. You and your twisted ankle."

He chuckles, tenderly wiping a tear from the apple of your cheek with his thumb. He scans over the room for a moment, as he feels your fingers come to dance over the dry trail of blood from his head wound.

"I don't think we're ever gonna leave this place," he says with a caress of your jaw.

Following his gaze, you giggle. Those beds you spent countless nights on, those countless concoctions and medical supplies you've had used on you, they're all here, scattered and battered around the room.

"That's why I came here instead of the Hall," you say, keeping one arm around your boyfriend's waist and unravelling the other to reveal an intact jar of creamy coloured ointment. "I'm so sorry, I must've scared you nuts."

"Scared me to death more like, but all I had to do was listen out for your sneezes. Turns out it isn't that hard to find you."

You poke your tongue out and he laughs. "That's so embarrassing. Always comes back to me being a Bogey Bug."

"Yeah," he smoothly pulls you in for an ardent kiss, "my Bogey Bug."

"You know what else I am?"

You're leaning against his arms that are wrapped around you and he watches as you take off the lid of the jar. Just like his fourth year, you use your fingers to scoop up a teaspoon of the cream.

"What? What else are you?"

You step out and take one of his hands, letting his palm sit over the top of yours. And then the cream is applied over the burns on the back of his hands. In spite of these burns looking way worse than his wound from Potions class back in his fourth year, the pain is still barely felt once the ointment's smoothed over. What's also killing the sting is looking at your breathtaking eyes. He's lost in them, distracted completely.

"I'm also your nurse," you finally say, wiping the excess over your hoody.

Neville's mouth curls into a smirk, snaking his arms around you again and pressing your bodies tightly together. "Well, nurse. My lips are feeling kind of sore, do you think you can fix them?"

You hum, eyes twinkling with mischief as your hands link behind his neck.

His gaze dips to your mouth, trying to fight the heat flowing to his cheeks and ears. There will never be a time when you won't make him nervous and giddy.

You mirror his action, eyes taking their time stare at his lips. "You know what, darling? I think I've got just the thing for you."

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.7 K Warnings: None. Prompt: You can always count on your friends to have your back. Alt- Making sure James gets to go on that date. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by sweethearts: @aremuslupinsimp & @profoundpidgeon

Chapter 29: With a Little Help from My Friends

The next morning, the castle was submerged in chaos. With the mess the headless hunt had caused in the Slytherin Common room, most of them had left early and encountered the traps you and Remus had set up all over the dungeons. From dung bombs to stinky mist and firecrackers, the whole thing had been chaos. 

You’d sent Comet, Minho and Nox an anonymous warning in advance, telling them not to rush out of the common room as fast as they could in the morning, and to watch their step. You assumed it had been enough since they seemed relatively unharmed at breakfast. You still had yet to see the boys that morning, they hadn’t made it to the great hall. None of them. It made you slightly anxious to say the least. Severus, Mulciber and Barty weren’t around, and the latter’s roommates seemed unharmed, which was reassuring, they were probably still rolling on their beds.

When you went back to the common room you spotted Remus, he had his wand pointed at Peter while he held his friend’s jaw with his free hand. Peter looked horrified, so you rushed towards them “What are you–” Peter turned his face, he had a huge bruise on his left eye, and his nose was swollen. You winced, the fall from Evan’s hand must have been nasty.

Remus looked relieved with your interruption and took a step back from Peter, taking your shoulder and your lower arm in his hands and pushing you in front of the boy, “You do it instead. You’re better at charms.” 

“Do what?” You asked as he handed you a piece of paper with a spell written on it, “You want me to fix his nose?! Are you insane?” 

“You have to,” Peter said, voice a little hoarse, no doubt from the pain. You shook your head. “I can’t go out like this, let alone to Pomfrey, she’ll assume I was out with Sirius and James for the prank. Can’t get punished, I’ve got a date tonight.” 

You gave him an incredulous look, and then it dawned on you that Peter wasn’t the only one with a date tonight. James would be absolutely bombed when he realised he wouldn’t be able to go out with Lily. 

“But I’m… This is serious medicinal magic Peter, people study for years to be able to do it.” 

“Please,” he begged, he tried to make puppy eyes but his swollen nose and left lid didn’t help him much, he looked like he urgently needed the bathroom instead. “Please, please, please.”

You gave Remus a side glance as if asking him to back you up, but he said,“ If anyone can do it, it’s you luv,” instead. 

You groaned, closing your eyes and bouncing in your place before nodding and grabbing the paper again, rereading the instructions. The text was leaning to the side, handwriting neat, but clearly rushed, Remus’ handwriting. That was at least a little tranquillising, if it had been Moony the one to find the spell, then it must have been a good one. “Have you ever used this one?” 

“Sirius is the one that uses the fixing charm. He’s used it on James before,” Remus reassured. 

“On his face?”  

“On his shoulder,” he said as he shook his head lightly. 

You gave the boys another unconvinced look, “Peter are you sure you–“ 

“Pleaaaaase Vix,” he repeated, a little more desperate this time around. 

You huffed, “This girl better snog you so much you forget about the pain,” you said as you gulped and raised your wand towards your friend’s face. He shut his eyes like he was about to get hit, “Don’t make faces Wormy, it’ll make it worse.” 

“You think–” he started, raising his eyes towards you and looking a lot more relaxed, but you didn’t let him finish his words and cast the spell. He yelped at that, stifling a scream, before turning to you a little crossed, “Oi, where’s my warning?” 

“They say it hurts less if you’re not expecting it,” you said with a shrug, he instantly frowned at that. 

“Did it work?” he asked Remus. The werewolf made a face and Peter looked positively mortified, but then Remus started laughing and passed Peter a small mirror that was sitting on a nearby table.  

The swelling was gone, and the bruise was fading rapidly “You’re brilliant!” He told you as he stood up and shook your shoulders, delighted by how much better he looked already. 

You almost laughed, “I still have some radiant complexion potion, you want a little?” 

“Cosmetics?” he asked with a frown. 

“It helped me with the bruises on my jaw from Monday,” you said, pulling down the collar of the sweater you had been wearing to show your almost spotless neck, not low enough to show Sirius’ still fading hickey. But Remus was taller, and he easily spotted it, averting his gaze as the image of Sirius kissing your neck popped into his head. “Could help yours fade faster.” 

“And it’s not really cosmetics either,” Remus explained, “Technically it would be more of a–” 

“Will it make me more handsome?” Peter interrupted. 

You raised your eyebrows at him, “uhh… It’ll make you more radiant.” 

“Then I’ll take it.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “Sure thing Pete,” you said, “by the way, do you know anything about Pads and Prongs?” Peter shook his head. 

“They didn’t make it to our room at all, I think Slughorn took them to McGonagall. She must be livid.” 

Then you heard the door of the portrait open and you spotted the boys, shoulders slumped, dark circles under their eyes, both looking completely defeated as they walked inside. You frowned as Sirius let himself fall on the sofa with a sigh, he had a bruise near his eye and another one on his left cheek. James seemed even more upset than Sirius, but he was in better condition, just some redness near his jaw. 

You looked at them with worry and frowned, the survivor’s guilt gnawing at you. Peter and Remus seemed to be taking the sight of them a lot better than you did. You sat on the table in front of the boys, Remus took the armchair and Peter sat back down on the edge of the sofa, turning his head to look at them. 

“So…?” the shortest asked. 

“We can’t play tomorrow,” Sirius said as he tensed his jaw, “McGonagall said it’d serve us right for picking up fights with the Slytherins. If only she knew.” 

“What?!” you asked, shocked. 

“And we have detention all day, no Hogsmeade either,” Sirius continued. 

“No Lily,” James groaned, hiding his face in his hands. 

“Will the Quidditch match be cancelled then?” Asked Peter with a frown, “two of the best players won’t be there.” 

James shook his head with a sigh, “We’ll call in the reserves.” He then sat up, eyeing you closely. “You’ll be the seeker.” 

You looked attentively and nodded. “I’m not too happy about that,” Sirius grumbled. You looked at him with a frown, ready to argue about being a good seeker when he spoke again, “Barty will be playing beater,” he informed. “I won’t be there.” 

“I can dodge.” 

“Because you have a great record at dodging ,” Sirius said sarcastically, a smile playing on his lips. You gasped and swatted at him playfully, his shrugged in response.

“Marlene will be there, I trust her,” you said in a more serious tone. 

“Yeah, I trust her too, but not the Slytherins. And I have no clue who will play instead of Evan.” 

“He also got punished?” you asked surprised. 

Sirius nodded with a smile. “Slughorn was absolutely pissed, didn’t even let him talk before he started reprimanding him for bringing the honour of the house down or something like that.” 

“Will they let you come to the game, at least?” 

James shook his head, “McGonagall said the team would survive without us for a match. Although, I’m sure she wasn’t too happy about it, it was Slughorns’ idea.” 

“How will you tell Lily about your date?” Peter asked. James just pouted in response. 

“She’ll never, ever give me another shot.” 

“Maybe… she doesn’t have to…” 

“That’s incredibly uplifting, thanks Vixen,” the boy spat a little crossed.

“Shut it, Prongs! I’m trying to help,” you uttered, and turned to Remus. “Remember what I told you about the potion from Slughorn?” 

Remus looked at you, eyes filled with shock. “You surely wouldn’t be considering…” You nodded, a tight smile dancing on your lips.

 “What are you considering?” Sirius asked, feeling a little left out. 

“Polyjuice potion,” you said, turning back to your boyfriend with a confident smirk.

James looked up at you, a mix of shock, and gratefulness reflecting behind his glasses. “You… you’d do that?” 

You shrugged, “I deserve the punishment as much as you do anyway. I’ll take the potion and pretend I’m you while you’re in detention today. That way you don’t have to reschedule the date with Lily.”

“But what if they make them do men’s work in detention?” Peter asked, a little weary.

“There isn’t any men’s work I cannot do,” you said with a scoff. You’d eventually regret those words. 

As you had planned, you had done. You’d gone to your room to pick up the potion and then met the boys in their room closely after. 

“Ready to be me?” James asked you as you stared at the potion in your hands. You threw him a look but nodded, extending your hand to his head and plucking a single piece of hair, before throwing it onto the flask you had used to store the potion. You weren’t sure how long it was going to last, so you had separated enough to recharge its effect in the middle of the day in case it was necessary. 

“Auch!” James complained, “Could’ve warned me.” 

“She’s literally going to take the punishment for you Prongs,” Remus responded a little irked, he wasn’t sure it was a good idea for you to go, especially with your still healing shoulder, but he also knew if he voiced his concern, he’d only make you more determined to do it, even if it was just to prove that you could. 

“Still, you could’ve warned me,” he repeated. You shook your head as you contemplated the potion. You’d never drank it, but the smell was deterrent enough. 

“You want me to do it instead?” Remus offered kindly. 

You shook your head, a tight grateful smile on your lips at his offer. “No, it’s… It’s fine I can do this,” you said before bringing the flask up to your mouth and drinking it. The taste was as bad as the smell. You coughed a couple of times and handed the flask over to Remus who held it as you felt your legs start to wobble and your mind went dizzy. You felt a tingling sensation all over and let yourself fall back onto a trunk. Sirius rushed to hold you up but seemed deterred when he saw the way your skin was bubbling. In a matter of seconds, you were already an exact replica of James. You were still dizzy when you looked at your hands, much larger and stronger looking now. 

“BIoody Mother of Merlin!” Sirius said in surprise. 

“We’ve got two Jameses,” Peter said, looking at you and then back at James and then back at you again, completely baffled. 

“How do I look?” You said, raising a flirty eyebrow towards Sirius. 

“Handsome as hell,” James replied about at the same time that Sirius cringed and said, “Like shit,” just to fuck with James. It earned him a soft punch on the arm. Remus and you were eyeing each other with diverted looks. 

“Asshole,” James said, slightly irritated. “She looks damn well.” 

You really admired James’ confidence. You cooed your head and stood up, “Handsome as hell,” you repeated, trying to make your voice sound a little more like Prong’s. He winced at that, “Oi, I’m trying!” you said back in your tone. You had a man’s voice, in fact you had James’ voice; you had his vocal cords after all. But they didn’t sound quite right. 

“I think I might be able to help you with that one,” Remus said as he pulled his wand up. “Open your mouth and say ahh…” 

You raised an eyebrow, terrible choice of words, you thought. “Woah Moony, didn’t think you’d get so kinky with me,” you teased. “That’s way more of a Sirius thing to say.” And he had, in fact, said it a while ago, before you even started dating him. 

Sirius stifled a laugh, the memory plaguing his mind while Peter was trying to figure out what you meant by that and why Remus had given you the look he had. When he finally understood, he flushed. 

“First you wanted to blindfold me and now…” you pressed, just to see Remus’ reaction. 

Sirius frowned. “When did you want to blindfold him? her, you know what I mean.” 

“When we met,” you said casually, “He said I couldn’t see your secret passages.” 

“And you let him?”

Remus shook his head and scoffed. “Of course she didn’t,” he said matter-of-factly. 

You gave him a pout, “If it makes you feel better, I’d let you blindfold me now.” 

Sirius laughed at your joke and Remus’ eye roll. The fact that you looked exactly like Prongs only made the entire situation even funnier. Remus just looked at you with a stern expression, he was just expecting you to do what he had initially asked. 

You just smiled and stood up, feeling disoriented by the difference in height. You were taller than your boyfriend now, and almost as tall as Moony. You pressed your lips tightly against each other to avoid saying anything, another joke wouldn’t have been wise at that point, you could tell by the way Remus was tapping his feet on the ground. 

Eventually, you stood facing him and opened your mouth “Aaaaaah…” 

Sirius, behind you, had to cover his mouth to avoid laughing blatantly at the way you had followed Remus’ instructions to the T and yet Remus seemed bewildered. Regardless, the boy picked his wand up and pointed it to your face, saying a few words and holding his wand to your face as he pulled it back and to the sides, as if he were calibrating something, which was exactly what he was doing. As he moved the wand your voice started to change. It went from your normal tone to helium inhalation level of high-pitched to sounding like Elvis’. But eventually, he stopped, pulling the wand back from your face. 

“Say something James would say.” 

You narrowed your eyes, thinking of something and then smiled mischievously, pulling out your best impression of James. “Pads, hold your position! Vixen, another backflip! That one was wonky, again!” 

Sirius almost doubled over in laughter while James looked at you with a frown. “That’s not how… Please tell me that’s not how I sound.” 

“Well, not all the time,” you said with a shrug.

“But that’s exactly how you sound when you’re on Capitan mode,” Sirius added with a teasing smirk.

“When I’m on– You gave it a name?!?” 

“It’s so we can separate the screaming captain from our dear ol’ James, it was Marlene’s idea,” you replied. James frowned. 

“You should change,” Peter said, “Can’t go around with a skirt, can you?” 

You gave him a look and then turned your head downwards, “Don’t know mate, Prongs’s got some nice calves,” you said tilting your leg to the side.

James winked at your reply while Remus threw you a clean pair of pants, a vest and a shirt. You unhooked your skirt and let it fall on the floor. “Why are you wearing boxers?” Sirius asked and got a punch from James.

You quirked an eyebrow, “Something made me assume it would be uncomfortable to keep normal knickers on after the change.” 

“Oh,” Sirius and James said, a little surprised. 

“Clever,” Remus said, nodding your way. 

You smiled and shrugged at his words -almost beaming from his praise- and then proceeded to put on the pants and finished changing, “how do I look?” you said twirling around once you were done. 

Sirius looked at you and placed a hand on his chin as if analysing, “Almost perfect,” Sirius said as he turned to the side and took James’ glasses away from his face and walked over to you, handing them over. 

You took them and placed them over your eyes, wincing as you pulled them off almost instantly “James mate, you’re blinder than Tommy.” 

“Tommy?” James asked, confused. 

“From the Movie,” replied Remus, dismissively. 

“From The Who,” added Peter. You wondered if he’d gone to the cinema at some point in his last vacation. James didn’t say anything after that, he still had no idea who this “Tommy” was but he also knew you’d tease the hell out of him if he asked. 

You took the glasses off and used gemino to make yourself a perfect replica, taking the originals, or what you thought were the originals and giving them back to James. You put the other back on and narrowed your eyes to try and see better, you saw Peter extending his arm towards you, “Hand them over,” he said simply. 

You did, and he placed his wand over them, whispering a spell you hadn’t heard yet and handing them back over to you, placing them back on and looking at him surprised “How did you…?” 

“My sister used to make me wear her glasses so I looked smarter,” he said with a shrug. “They gave me awful headaches so I dug through our library and found a spell to make them fake.” 

“That’s brilliant Pete,” you said with a nod. He just smiled and nodded, pretty pleased with himself.  

You took a deep breath and turned back to James “I think I’m ready then. Do I look the part?” 

“Definitely,” Remus said, the rest of the boys nodding in agreement. 

“Well then,” you said with a clap, “Time to go get detention,” you added, looking over at Sirius. 

He let his head fall back and groaned in response, then he looked over at Remus with a charming little smile, “Moony, don’t you want to drink some of the potion and pretend you’re me today?” 

Remus raised his eyebrows and scoffed, “of course not.” 

“You sure? You could use my dashing good looks to flirt around.” 

“No, he couldn’t,” you said with a scoff .“You’re dating me. Even if it wasn’t actually you, he’d only be allowed to flirt with me.” You sounded slightly jealous, which in a way was justified, after all they were talking about your boyfriend’s face. You tried not to think much that Remus “flirting around” wasn’t an image you wanted to see.

“That sounds so weird coming from James’ face,” Sirius said as he looked at you. “Either way, I suppose I’ll get going,” he said with a dramatic sigh, still staring at Remus as he continued walking towards you. 

“Off you go,” Remus said, placing his hand on Sirius’ back and pushing him towards the door, to make him move faster, Sirius turned to you with a pout, the kind of face a kid would give their mother when their brother mistreated him. Meanwhile, Remus gave you the look that said “See what I have to deal with?”

“Hey James,” you said before leaving, he hummed in acknowledgement, “You better not blow your date with Lilly.” 

“Maybe you should go instead,” Peter teased and got a scowl from James. 

You just laughed, “Sorry mate, I can take the punishment for you, but I’m not gonna seduce the girl. That’s all off to you.” 

“She’ll want to marry me after today,” he said confidently. 

You nodded “Remember not to overdo it, you’ll scare her away.” 

When you were done, you closed the door behind you and turned to Sirius. “Where are we supposed to meet?”

The moment McGonagall opened the doors, Peter’s words came floating back to your mind “But what if they make you do men’s work in detention?” followed by your blatant response, “There isn’t any men’s work I cannot do”.

You had regretted those words the moment you stepped into the dirty men’s loo. You were sure you gagged as you walked behind McGonagall and felt the dreadful smell, ever so characteristic of men’s lavatories, “I asked the elves not to wash the bathroom last night. Just for you,” she said, “wands,” she added, extending her open palm towards you, Sirius and Evan. 

“Do you expect us to clean with our own hands?” Sirius complained. Evan said something similar next to him. You would have probably made a joke about how spoiled they both were if you weren’t so shocked yourself. 

“Can I… Can I do something else?” you said as she was about to leave. “I’ll clean the owlery, I don’t care–” 

“Mr. Potter.” She said sternly. You closed your mouth shut, only now remembering you were supposed to be James and not you. “Men up and stop whining, all you have to do is clean the toilets.” Sirius almost doubled in laughter at her choice of words. 

“Minnie please,” you added, using the vocabulary James would have used, or perhaps that would have been Sirius, since the way the old teacher turned over and looked at you gave you the chills, making you unconsciously recoil towards Sirius. 

“Mr. Potter!” She said a lot more sternly now, “It’ll serve you well to stop your silly pranks and occupy your mind with something productive. One more complaint and I’ll make you wash the prefect’s bathrooms and the greenhouses as well,” you nodded, not saying anything more as you watched her walk all the way towards the door, she turned right before leaving. “Pebblier the house elf will be watching over you,” she informed, “so no fighting and no funny business unless you want to help polish trophies tomorrow.”

You gulped and nodded, it’s not that it would be you doing things those things tomorrow, but you still didn’t want to subject James, let alone Sirius, to more torture. Once she was gone, you sighed, taking one of the mops and dipping it in water, holding your breath from the smell still filling your nostrils. 

“What? He’s mopping? I’d rather mop than…” Evan trailed off, looking at the bathroom stalls.

As James, you were as tall as the blond and probably as strong as he was, you just turned to him with a stern face, tilting your head slightly to the side and bringing your hand from the handle to point at your face, “How’s the eye?” you asked calmly, it had been such a simple and yet strong thrеat, Sirius was almost shocked. James would never be that bold. 

Evan swallowed, it hadn’t even been James who punched him and yet the way you had stared at him had somehow made him blech, he huffed after he got back his stance. Evan had never seen Potter be so intimidating, of course, he wasn’t looking at Potter then. Most of the time, James was just an annoying ray of sunshine and jokes. He hoped he’d go back to that soon, he wasn’t sure the thrеatening James would be so much fun to bother. “Fine then, I’ll wash the stalls,” he grumbled after he took a hold of one of the buckets. Evan didn’t want to polish the trophies either.  

Sirius raised an eyebrow, looking at you impressed, he never thought he’d considered James hot, but what you did, had been exactly that. He could almost see you underneath the skin you were wearing, and he started wondering if he too would have fallen for you if you had been a boy. He might have. But then, what did that fucking mean? What would that mean for him? Did that make him– 

You gave him a small complicit smile in return, you didn’t think Evan would recoil so easily, but it was certainly fun to be bigger and broader and to look stronger, it gave you a sort of power you’d never wielded before, and as strange as it might seem, you liked it. Seeing Evan back out after just a look, a look that you probably had thrown at him many times as yourself with no effect, had been interesting, to say the least. Regardless, the funniest part was the fact that you were taller than Sirius, and he looked adorable, even more like a puppy. 

A grumpy, riled up, bathroom-cleaning puppy, but a puppy nonetheless. You wondered if being taller made him feel the same way when he looked at you; if the protective instinct instantly activated with a few inches of advantage to the other person. Not that you never felt the need to protect him in the past. You remembered the time at the park, how you had reacted, ready to take all the blame for him and how neither of the brothers had let you, but this was different. This version of you, the Potter version of you, wanted to hug and coddle him and tell him everything would be all right. 

Either way, it could have just been some of Potter’s innate traits mixing with your own, since you had taken the potion, and it had changed you into him. You started wondering about the implications of Polyjuice too, what kind of things it’d actually do to your body. What about long exposure? If you were actually intermixing DNA with it, and altering not only the way you looked but also the way you thought? Then perhaps it could also change the way you felt, alter feelings and thoughts and give you some of those of the one you were impersonating.

You could probably talk to Lily about it, since she knew a lot about potions. Or perhaps Remus would be a better option since it’d be complicated to explain to her why you had used polyjuice, and how you had gotten your hands on it. 

When you were done with the floor, and the stinky smell had died down just a little (or perhaps your nostrils had gotten used to it) you went on to wipe the mirrors and faucet, while the other boys focused on the urinals and the toilets. You saw Sirius gag a couple of times as he brushed over one of the toilets and almost wanted to help him, but the stinky smell coming from them persuaded you against it. 

While you were cleaning some of the mirrors you realised the potion was starting to fade, so you had to pull out the flask and take a sip. Sirius had given you a wary look, but you just nodded in what you hoped was a reassuring manner and continued with your task. Sooner than later the three of you had finished, and Pebblier, the small elf who had been watching over you, snapped his fingers and disappeared, coming back just a few minutes later with McGonagall by his side. 

She looked at the three of you, Evan was placing the bucket in its place, you were drying the mirror and Sirius had reclined against some of the mops. The witch examined the room in detail, the smell had gone away already, and she had even walked towards the stalls, looking through every single one. She seemed… impressed. As if she hadn’t been expecting you three to do such a good job.  

“Great job boys,” she concluded, “you may go clean up before dinner.” 

Dinner time? Already? 

Sirius nodded and grabbed onto your arm to pull you out of the room. Once you were away from prying eyes he gave you a diverted look, “You aren’t that great at being James, you know?” 

You gasped, “I had everyone fooled.” 

“Evan didn’t say a word,” he countered, “he was terrified from the moment you thrеatened him.” 

You gave him a look and almost winced, “You think I overdid it?” 

Sirius gave you a diverted smile, “You called McGonagall Minnie.” 

“Well, you call her that all the time, I assumed James would…” Sirius raised an eyebrow at you, and you didn’t even finish your answer, James had never been as blasé as your boyfriend. As you continued walking through the halls you spotted a girl, who seemed to be looking at the two, specifically at Sirius, before she approached, standing right in front of you and blocking your path forward. 

“Hi!” She said shyly, pulling a strand of hair behind her ear and looking down for a moment before turning her face towards your boyfriend. You stared down at her, looking a little displeased, you assumed, from the way she gave you a wary look as if she wanted to retreat. She cleared her throat, “Sirius.” 

The boy hummed in response, you noticed a group of girls giggling not so far away from her, and you stared back at the girl, intrigued by what she might do. 

“I’m afraid I don’t know your name,” your boyfriend said, a mix between polite and annoyed. 

She made a displeased expression at that, “Ugh… I’m Zia, from 5th.” She really was looking at Sirius and completely ignoring you, or well, she was completely ignoring James. Which made you feel a little angry on his behalf too.

“Right, hello.” Sirius said, when the girl still didn’t move he sighed, “Is there anything I can help you with?” 

“I… would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me?” 

You raised an eyebrow at that. You weren’t surprised Sirius got girls asking him out all over the place, you’d seen his face, you understood, but you thought everyone knew about your relationship already. 

“Why?” He asked. You gave him a look. That had sounded uncharacteristically cold, and slightly rude. 

“Wh-why?” the girl stammered. “I was just thinking... maybe I could– like a date.” 

You weren’t sure whether to be jealous or just feel sorry for the poor girl, she looked like a deer trapped in headlights, “Sirius is already going out with someone,” you said, a little colder than you intended, to try and protect the girl from whatever cold thing Sirius might have told her instead. 

But her reaction was something you weren’t expecting, she snapped at you, fury in her eyes as if you had said something improper. “But it’s just for now, isn’t it? You aren’t actually dating her,” she said, turning to Sirius. 

Sirius rolled his eyes as if he was used to this, “Even if I wasn’t. I wouldn’t date someone who’s trying to dig into and separate an already established relationship.” 

The girl was taken aback by his answer, even more so when Sirius skipped past her and continued his walk as if she had never even talked to him. You would have given her an apologetic smile if you hadn’t been so flummoxed, but instead, you just chased after Sirius not bothering to give her a second glance. As if she had bothered to say “hi” when she had gone straight after him. 

“Well that was very… brazen of her…” you said as you caught up with your boyfriend.

He sighed, leaning his head against your shoulder like he would if it were you and not James he was talking to. He enjoyed the height difference, actually. He didn’t have to lean his head so much, it was nice. You, as a boy, were hot. His mind crossed over to Remus, how he was slightly taller than James and he wondered how it would feel to lean his head onto that boy’s shoulder. In a romantic way, not in a friendly one, he had to force the thought out of his head, he was not meant to be thinking of Remus that what, let alone with you –his girlfriend– standing next to him. What the hell would he do if you had legilimency? You, on the other side, seeing him all thoughtful, wondered if he’d care that the girls were still boring holes in his back, he probably wouldn’t. “Sorry you had to see that, Starshine.” 

You looked down at him with a diverted stare, “It was rather rude on your part.” 

“If I wasn’t, she’d think I was leading her on.” 

“You were never rude to me.” 

He gave you a look, “Why do you think that is, Starshine?” He asked with a flirty smile. 

You almost blushed at that, you wanted to reach for his hand, but realised it’d be a bad idea to do it then, with James’ face. You didn’t know this, but Sirius might have actually liked it if you did, even if it would increase his mental issues with the thoughts of Remus he’d been having lately. Eventually, the two of you reached the common room, the boys let you use their bathroom to shower off the sweat and stank from the bathrooms since you still looked like James and you threw yourself in Sirius’ bed, already changed into a pair of pyjamas that were a little tight on James but would be oversized once you turned back. 

“James isn’t back yet, is he?” you asked Remus, the only boy still in the room, since Sirius was in the bathroom and Peter was on his date. 

Remus shook his head and you sighed, you’d be stuck there until Prongs came back or you looked like yourself again, neither of those things seemed to be happening soon enough, “It’s no fun to be James if I’m locked up in his room,” you complained. 

Remus gave you a look, raising an eyebrow at you as he pulled his head from the book he was reading. “You thought it was fun?” 

“I mean, not the cleaning the bathroom part, but… You should have seen Evan’s face after I accidentally thrеatened him.” 

“How do you accidentally thrеaten someone?” he asked, incredulous.

“You give them a nasty look with the height and build of James Potter,” you told him. “I guess I’d be more thrеatening if I were bigger, you’re lucky I’m not as tall as any of you.” 

“Sprite size,” he joked, and you scoffed at his silly little joke. 

“Either way,  it was also fun to be taller than Pads, makes him look a lot more cute and adorable, it was hard to hold myself back from stealing a kiss like I do all the time.” 

Remus huffed a laugh, “Would have started some interesting rumours.” 

“Mhm,” you said, “Must be nice to be big and broad all the time though.” 

“Not when you bump your head onto door frames.” 

“What a drama queen Moony,” you teased. 

“It’s never happened to you. You wouldn’t know how inconvenient it is.” 

“What is inconvenient?” Sirius asked, walking out of the bathroom with just a simple towel around his middle. It was as if he thought you were actually James and not you. Either that or he purposefully wanted to fluster you. 

“Being tall, apparently,” you said, letting your gaze linger just a few seconds before turning your eyes back to Moony, who had been looking at Sirius casually. Although perhaps…

“You certainly wouldn’t know, would you Starshine?” 

You turned back to him, your eyes shining with mischief, “Careful Puppy, I’m still taller than you.”  

“Hmm… not for long,” he said before disappearing into the bathroom with some clothes in his hands. His shirt fell on the floor and you used your wand to drag it towards you, still sitting on the bed. Remus gave you a look but went back to his book, not saying a word. It was a shirt Andromeda had given him as a gift –a Queen shirt– it was soft from how many times he’d used it, but in great condition still. Perhaps he used some kind of spell. 

“Hey Moons have you seen my…?” he asked as he left the bathroom again, he had his pyjama pants on but he was still shirtless. You had his shirt in your hands, a smirk playing on your lips, or James’ lips, you supposed. “Starshine.” 

You shrugged, “It fell on the floor, didn’t wanna leave it there.” 

He narrowed his eyes at you but walked towards his bed, where you sat. You were on the edge, whereas you normally just rested against his headboard, and most of all, you had a rather suspicious expression going on, an expression he’d seen you wear before, slightly different to James’. The second he skeeved in to take it between his hands, you stood and dodged, standing a few steps from him while holding the shirt high above your head. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

“Taking advantage of the one time I’ll be taller than you, I suppose.” Remus was now looking at the two of you, diverted rather than paying attention to his book. 

“Maybe you just want to see me shirtless for longer,” he teased. 

You shrugged in response, “Maybe I do.”

His head pulled back, his cocksure stance faltering as he tried to process how brazen you’d been with that answer, it’s something he would have done. Regardless he got closer to try and pull the shirt. The difference in height between James and Sirius wasn’t that big, especially not when you compared it to Remus, so you couldn’t trust solely on the extra inches you had. 

Sirius reached his hand up and tried to grab the shirt, and you pulled it just behind you, there was definitely a benefit with getting James’ physical attributes, especially the speed. 

“Aw come on, that’s not fair.” 

You just smiled, daringly. “Come on Puppy, you can do this, can’t you?” 

“I’m gonna bite you next time I’m Padfoot,” he thrеatened playfully. 

“You’d only be able to do it if I still looked like Potter,” you told him with a smile. “Vixen’s too adorable to bite, am I not?” 

“My shirt.” 

“What shirt?” you asked innocently as you threw it Remus’ way.

It fell on his head, and for a second you thought he’d be mad, since he didn’t move, rather, it took him a few seconds to figure out why the shirt smelled so much like Sirius until he remembered he’d used the same shirt last night, and the previous. Fuck, it smelled delightful, focus Remus, he told himself as he took it from his head and held it between his hands. 

He looked over at you, you gave him a smile, and winked at him, an expression so unbelievably yours it was almost shocking to see it on James, all thought there was something in your eyes. 

Remus stood, as if he were to give the shirt to Sirius and your smile faded, he almost laughed but managed to hold a serious solemn face. Just as Sirius extended his hands to grab the shirt from Sirius’s hand, he pulled his arm up again, you smiled, diverted, while Sirius frowned. 

Two against one, there you go Puppy, you thought. Remus, being a lot taller, managed to hold the shirt a lot higher, which forced Sirius to walk even closer to him as he jumped around to try and get the shirt. Remus was having way too much fun to actually process the fact that a shirtless Sirius was brushing onto him as he jumped to get the shirt.

“I could just wear something else, you know.” 

“Yeah, but you won’t,” you said with a smile, you stood just behind him, blocking his hand whenever he tried to reach up for his shirt, still held high above Remus’ head. 

“Too stubborn for that,” Remus confirmed, looking at you with a complicit grin.

Sirius huffed in response but tried again. Remus pulled back and you held Sirius between your arms, but he managed to slip from your grasp and lunged at Remus, who threw the shirt over his head and towards your arms, “Great shot, Moony!”

He winked at you as Sirius crashed onto him, “Okay kids, that’s enough!” Sirius said. Remus enjoyed the closeness a little too much.

“Giving up so soon, Puppy?” you asked with a pout, passing the shirt from one hand to the other. 

“Giving– It’s completely unfair! You’re both taller and stronger.” 

You hummed, “Welcome to my world.” 

“I won’t say you’re short ever again?” he tried, you pretended to think about it for a moment. 

“What do you think, is he being honest?” 

“I don’t know Little Witch… seems unrealistic.” 

You nodded in agreement. “Aww, come on…” Sirius complained, but then he lunged for you, you moved to the side, both of you moving almost in a circle. If anyone were to see the three of you from above, they’d think you had carefully choreographed this dance. 

“Starshine…” He warned. You felt a bit of a tingling in your legs, but for some reason, you didn’t think it was the nickname or his tone that caused it. Remus from behind, notice your ear shrinking. You were changing back. 

You smiled “Come and get it!” 

He did, he skeeved forwards, you intended to crash against him, but Remus noticed you were counting on James’ strength, rather than yours. If Sirius crashed onto you, the real you and not Polyjuice-potion James, then it would probably hurt you. So he grabbed onto your waist, or James’, everyone was confused at that point, and pulled you to the side. 

Unfortunately, he tripped on a pair of shoes, and the two of you ended up falling towards the bed, not before Sirius grabbed onto the box plate of your shirt, and got pulled along with you. There was some thumping, and then complaining groans from the three. 

Remus’ back had ended on the bed, you were on top of him, back facing his chest, and Sirius was on top of you, still half naked, and feeling a lot heavier than you expected him to be. You were quite literally sandwiched between the two boys, it was oddly comforting, even if a bit uncomfortable. 

Remus frowned as your hair covered his face, you were back being you, and Sirius was crushing you against him, Sirius’ face dangerously close to his, it seemed like the longest time before the three of you managed to process what had happened. “Starshine you’re back!” Sirius said as he looked at you with a bright smile, taking the shirt from your hands, using his strength to keep your arms in your place as you tried to wriggle out. 

He gave you a rather satisfied smile as you huffed, “Not fair.” 

“Suck it up,” Sirius replied as he finally rolled to the side. “Can you give her back her voice?” 

You sighed, catching your breath still against Remus’ shoulder until you too rolled off, landing right in between the two boys and slightly pushing on both so you had enough space to lay on your back. “Can’t take me speaking like your best mate?” 

“It’s weird when you no longer look like him.” 

You shut your eyes, Remus’ bed was softer than Sirius’, you noticed as you continued to accommodate in the small space between the two. Your shoulders were all pressed together, but neither of the boys seemed to want to move either. It was warm, it was comfortable. 

Remus fetched his wand from the side with a display of wandless magic that would have been shocking had you been looking and passed it over you, “finite incantatem,” he whispered. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, your voice finally back to normal. You took a deep breath, thinking that you’d have to get up now and go back to your room, even if you didn’t actually want to move. “What time is it?” 

Sirius lifted his head to look at the watch, “Almost 8,” he informed, “why?” 

You shrugged, “I probably have to go back soon.” 

“You don’t sound so eager,” Remus acknowledged.

A playful scoff left your mouth, “What with two handsome boys by my side, who would?” 

Remus scoffed and Sirius rolled his eyes, “what a flirt.” 

“Learned from the best,” you said in return and then sighed dramatically. “I don’t want to move, cleaning was so tiring!” you whined, Remus’ bed is comfortable, this was perfectly gracious.

“Should have let Prongs take the punishment,” Remus said. 

You shook your head, “No-uh, wouldn’t want to kill his chance to date Lily and get married and have beautiful children.” 

“That’s a very long story to make up in your head, Starshine.” 

“As if James himself hadn’t outwardly said that that’s what he wants,” you responded with a shrug and changed the subject. “What were you reading Rem?”

“The Godfather,” he said simply. 

Sirius turned his head, “The Mafia book you were telling us about on the train?” Remus nodded. “You haven’t finished it already?” 

He shook his head in response, “I was reading a book she borrowed,” he said, nodding towards you for a second. 

“Dorian Grey,” you acknowledged. 

“Dorian Grey?” Sirius asked, “It’s a muggle thing, isn’t it?” 

“It’s a classic, Sirius.” 

“You’d probably like it,” Remus added. 

“Oh no, he might end up like Dorian,” you joked, “Lord Henry has some rather convincing dialogue.” 

“He’s already like that.” 

“Pair of nerds,” Sirius huffed, “But I don’t like being left out, so I’ll read it.” 

You shook your head with a smile on your face, “How’s the mafia book?”

“Interesting,” Remus replied. 

“Why don’t you read to us?” Sirius asked casually. 

“What?” Remus asked, a little puzzled. 

“Oh yeah,” you said, turning your head towards him, “You have a really nice voice, read to us,” he didn’t look convinced. “Please.” 

“Oblige her Moony, she worked très hard cleaning the men’s loos today.” 

“Yes,” you nodded. “Sirius did as well… Oblige us, yeah?” Remus sighed dramatically but levitated the book right above him, you could see well enough to read by yourself but you’d much rather hear it from Remus’ soothing deep voice. In the end, he couldn’t refuse.  “Don Corleone stood up and put a fatherly arm around Johnny's shoulder.” You were smiling like an idiot, Sirius was too, both pretty satisfied with your convincing abilities.  “I’m going to make this man an offer he can't refuse,' he said, leading Johnny towards the door.” Remus was even making different voices for the characters, ‘“Now, go and enjoy yourself´ He kissed Johnny on the cheek, shut the door and turned to Tom Hagen, who had heard everything…”

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A/N: Well, that's an interesting turn of events, isn't it? I mean, this was James' one-time chance, we had to make sure he made it to that date, didn't we? Also, Remus my love, you're adorable, thank you for exciting <3

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[willowthewiisp]

I just can't fucking shut up about this because everyone else is pissing me off calling Marika an unu poor baby she was justified bs as if genocide against any race is justified if they hurt you first. Look at real world examples.

Anyways.

Godfrey was banished not because he conquered all that could be conquered but because he fundamentally disagreed with Marika. I'm convinced she asked him to carry out the genocide against the hornsent society but because they hadn't attacked or given any reason to be attacked ( because the genocide came AFTER the banishment because messmer knows what a tarnished is AND was an older brother figure to radahn.) Godfrey refused because he's just a Chad like that and Marika stripped him of his grace and sent him on his way and instead gave messmer the grace and blessings to go crusade against the ones she needed to be rid of.

Why were the hornsent not exterminated the second Marika became a god.

Why did she run from the lands of shadow and not stay to save her people.

Because she ran.

She ran away because she had connections to the hornsent as an empyrean. The only reason she genocided them so late in her rule was because the hornsent did not submit to her religion and ideals of the golden order they were graceless and heretics to her, who spat in the face of her erdtree and worshipped the concept of the crucible. Why would she need to hide this war if it was for a good reason. I mean, if she used they oppressed my people and are a threat to the golden order why would she need to hide that, seems like as good of a reason as any to attack someone.

Because there was no good reason.

It's clear the hornsent weren't a warring culture by the time of the crusades if the dancing lion is any hint (that's not to say they weren't in the past, they had to have come to power somehow but as of the genocide the lion dancers were just that, dancers, that basically became guardians and fought during the genocide). They were caught off guard they were surprised and betrayed by Marika who they didn't have any bad blood with personally. If Marika truly was driven by revenge and hate over the shamans why didn't she slaughter them as soon as she became a god. Because she left them on neutral terms. She wasn't their enemy and they had no reason to attack her. What happened at the divine tower was the original sin. That's why messmer shrouded it so no one would know what Marika did to become a god. Massive sacrifice of hornsent AND shamans were needed. I'm almost tempted to say the hornsent got the idea to use shamans in their saint jars because of Marika. They saw this numen, this shaman, ascend into godhood. Marika used the blood of shamans, the flesh of shamans to become a god. They tried to replicate it in the jars, turning criminals and sinners into something that could become more. Maybe the shamans willingly sacrificed themselves for Marikas ascension. I would believe that. But the hornsent saw this and their zealotry drove them to hunt the shamans, so they could recreate what they witnessed at the divine tower. We see something similar in nokron. The nox attempted to birth their own lord to usher in an age of stars.

Marika returning to her village long after the shamans were gone REEKS of guilt. Because she didn't save them. She didn't avenge them. She left them to suffer and die. That's why she's fucking guilty. Messmer was the only one that seemed to care about them, and even then there was nothing to be done. Even IF the hornsent tortured and harvested her people and hurt Marika personally, that doesn't change the fact Marika waited until Godfrey was gone and radahn and messmer were old enough to be brothers to each other (almost implying it happened when Marika and radagon married but that's a stretch) to attack them. She waited an age and a half. Through her age of plenty and into the age of order. Why.

Why did she forsake her people. No wonder the black knife assassins did what they did. If they truly were close to Marika, they'd want revenge for what she did to their people in the lands of shadow.

Anyways.

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Can I have some cute random facts about the skeleton brothers?

Sure can!

Undertale Sans - Sans is the one who sneaked the annoying dog into the house Underground. He figured that when Papyrus is a little sad, the dog always managed to cheer him up, or, well, annoy him enough so he doesn't think about what's making him sad anymore.

Undertale Papyrus - When Undyne and Alphys had their first kid, Papyrus played the nanny so they could both sleep the first night as he could see they were both really exhausted. He ends up being the child's godfather as well and he would die for his niece/nephew.

Underswap Sans - He participated in a beauty contest for fun with Alphys in the first month he reached the Surface and won. He's still sleeping with his trophy to this day, he's actually very proud of it (mostly because Alphys didn't win anything and her jealous face will not make him laugh).

Underswap Papyrus - He didn't know how to swim and so he was sad when he found himself all alone during the first monster trip to the beach while everyone was having fun. So Asgore picked him up and carried him on his back so he could enjoy the sea like the others. He even taught him the basics in a swimming pool when they got home and Honey is so thankful for it as he discovered he actually really likes that.

Underfell Sans - He couldn't be a dinosaur kid Underground, but I can promise you that the second he got on the Surface, he fell madly in love with the giant reptiles to the point of squealing in joy every time he saw a toy representing a dinosaur he doesn't have. He has a very impressive collection of them now. Edge took him to a dinosaur museum for his birthday. After that, it became impossible to make Red shut up for two months. It's still his favorite place on Earth and he's going there at least once a month.

Underfell Papyrus - That time, completely drunk, when he confessed to Undyne that she was his best friend and that he didn't know what he'd do without her. Of course, the next morning, the face entirely red, he screamed at her she imagined the whole thing and to leave him alone, despite her recording of the scene on her phone. But yeah, he turns a lot softer once drunk and Undyne is so amused by this that she's going to torment him for two months.

Horrortale Sans - Since Toriel's eyesight became pretty terrible over the years, once a week, Oak comes to her place to read books to her. It's a nice routine they have from Underground after he got his skull smashed as reading was helping Oak's memory. He struggled on a lot of words and she helped him through his lecture. Now he's doing it only to entertain her, mainly because it hurts him so much to notice Toriel is aging. She became his whole world through the years and he's not sure he could bear losing her. So he cherishes any small moment he has with her.

Horrortale Papyrus - He's working as a volunteer in an old people retirement home and even if he's not supposed to, he loves taking the three old ladies he's taking care of to the movie theater or to the restaurant just so they can have fun for a few hours. They're all acting like they're on a super secret mission and it's always a nice time. He kidnapped them next Gyftmas to celebrate at his place because no one should be without a family at that time.

Swapfell Sans - He loves being massaged to the point he becomes completely limp in his S/O's arms. It's actually one of the very rare moments you'll see him fully relaxed and/or deep asleep, as Nox usually never lowers his guard. That pretty much means he feels very safe around you, which is literally a confession that he trusts you with his life. You're a lucky one.

Swapfell Papyrus - The first time Nox took him to an attraction park once they arrived on the Surface is where Rus actually called him brother again for the first time in almost twenty years. Now that's something they do every year, to remind each other that despite everything that happened, they're still here for each other. Rus can tell it's Nox's way to apologize for the childhood Rus never really had and he's actually glad. Even though it's also a good excuse to get his revenge once a year by dragging his brother to a fantom train just to watch him scream with terror the whole time, without being able to complain because Rus will guilt-trip him otherwise lmao.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He tried makeup for the first time on the Surface and now he has a little bit of an addiction on his hands. He can spend hours in the cosmetics shops, just trying everything to see what looks good on him. He's actually so known in these shops the seller usually keeps all the new things in a corner so he can try them when he comes.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - Since he doesn't like to talk to the seller in the shops, he usually sends his brother or his S/O to buy things for him. But since they often mess up and don't pick what he wants, now he's coming along, just hiding behind them and silently pointing at the things he wants with puppy eyes. Now that he has a little more confidence he's just doing it with anything he wants and that is not planned. Just staring intensely so someone notices him and buys it lol. He's poor, please say yes :(

[artzysyam]

My take of Jason's reaction after Danny throwing hands at Joker in locked cell

Based on @xysidhequeen AU part 15

Jason blinked his eyes open slowly and groaned. It had been Nox, the blasted sleep ghost, who had forced him to sleep. When Jason asked about Danny, all Nox gave him was a mysterious smile. 

“That fucking Sandman…” he muttered under his breath as he reached out for his phone, which thankfully was fully charged. He'd grudgingly admit that Nocturne had been a good father figure to Danny in some ways—though it still annoyed him how the man would always tease them about their possible relationship. 

Jason's eyes widened in disbelief as he read the headline of Gotham News on his phone - "Authorities Stumped! Joker Assaulted In Locked Cell! Corruption In Arkham?" He ran a hand over his face, still struggling to process what he had just read. Then, loud stomping and shouting from across the hallway caught his attention.

"DANNY JAMES NIGHTINGALE!! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO!?"

Sam sounded furious. Jason jumped out of bed, throwing on a red tank top and black boxer shorts. His heart raced with anticipation as he heard Sam kick Danny's door open. He couldn't believe what his best friend had done - Danny must have throwing hands at Joker while he was locked up in Arkham Asylum. As much as part of him wanted to celebrate Joker being incapacitated, Jason knew that this could mean another prison break and it would be even more dangerous now that he had been in Gotham for over a week. He suppressed the urge to dance with joy at the thought of finally getting revenge on the Joker and instead decided to remain quiet so Tucker wouldn't add one more picture of him in his blackmail collection.

Sam balled her fists and slammed the door shut with a resounding thud. She shot an annoyed glare at Jason before pointing her finger in his direction. “Your boyfriend—you handle this situation!” she snapped, leaving before he could deny their relationship status.

Alone in the hallway, Jason's gaze fell to Danny's door. His stomach fluttered with anticipation as he wrestled between yelling at his crush or embracing him with a hug. After a few moments of internal deliberation, he decided a hug was in order and opened the door.

Letting out a gentle chirrup of contentment from his core, Jason saw Danny stir and wake up from his nest of blankets. He looked exhausted.

"What..." Danny slurred, barely able to keep his eyes open. 

"Asswipe, I saw the news and..." Jason said before hoisting himself onto Danny's bed and enveloping him in a tight hug. "Thanks for making sure that fucking clown stayed put." 

Jason felt Danny's body humming with relief and appreciation as he nuzzled closer into his chest.

Danny, his eyes heavy with sleep, murmured a sleepy “Anything for you, Jaybird.” Jason smiled. This cuddle time was a reward he thought they both deserved in the happiest of circumstances. He tucked them further under the thick, warm blankets and laughed softly as Danny made a satisfied chirping sound before snuggling closer against him, looping an arm around his strong waist and resting his head on Jason’s chest. Gently, Jason encased Danny in the embrace of his toned arms to keep him from falling off the bed and secure in his loving protection. As one, their contentment washed over them like a warm wave and they drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

[graysparrowao3]

Baldur's Gate 3 Fic Masterlist

Last updated Sept 16th 2024

Hi there, I'm Gray (or Sparrow!)! I didn't really want the 'ao3' to be always at the end of my name, but I got the username and title mixed up when I was making the account, and here we are lol.

I really enjoy writing Baldur's Gate 3 fanfic, especially based on Rolan, Cal, and Lia but most anyone really, especially NPCs (and, apparently, an unexpected series featuring Rugan and Aradin).

I've loved finding so many friends and talented folks in the fandom, please feel welcome to connect 💛

[Fic list under cut]

Multi-Chapter fics - Mature & Explicit

What if Rolan was a Companion. Complete. Mature Follows the game with Rolan as a companion and gn!Tav.

What if Rolan was a Companion... and Everything Went Wrong. In progress, on hiatus, Companion piece to the above. The game with Rolan, angst, and pain.

The Elturian Prodigy - Currently In progress, Explicit due to violence. A story of Rolan, Cal, and Lia, or 'What Baldur's Gate 3 looks like in my head'.

What if Kanon Lived. In progress, not published. An alternate timeline of the game in which, you guessed it, Kanon lived.

Rolan, Cal, & Lia One shots - General/Teen

A Perfectly Reasonable Exchange. General. Rolan and gn!Tav go on a romantic walk, then Cal and Lia ask how it went.

The Bet. General. Cal and Lia try to keep romantic liaisons secret from Rolan.

Distraction. General. Lia must distract Rolan and Cal so her lover can sneak away.

Our Turn. Teen and Up. Cal and Lia take care of Rolan after he defeats Lorroakan. Emotional hurt. Inspired by this art by @dreaminginpencil.

Aradin & Rugan (guest star Zevlor) - Explicit

What if Aradin pushed Zevlor too far. Explicit sexual content, dubious consent. ZevlorxAradin. Aradin is a piece of shit. Zevlor puts him in his place. Secret Santa.

A One Night Stand at The Blushing Mermaid. Explicit sexual content, dubious consent. RuganxAradin. Rugan finds a way to shut Aradin up.

A Second Night Stand at The ElfSong Tavern. Explicit sexual content, dubious consent. Aradin hasn't learned his lesson. In appreciation for @benicemurphy.

A Third Night Stand Under the Stars. Explicit sexual content, dubious consent. Aradin hits rock bottom. Rugan reluctantly tries to help him get his shit together. In appreciation for Merdyr.

Fourth Time's A Charm. Explicit sexual content. Rugan is tasked by the Zhent to kill Aradin. It doesn't quite go to plan. Requested by @fangbanger3000

Five Times Too Many. Explicit sexual content. Rugan and Aradin would've been best if they never met again. But they did. In appreciation for @lizziemajestic.

Six Times to Say Goodbye. Explicit sexual content. Rugan and Aradin meet for last time (lies). They've a few things to get sorted out. In appreciation of everyone's support.

Seven Times at Night, Once in the Morning. Explicit sexual content. Rugan and Aradin reconnect with actual mature conversation and sex. Rugan catches feels. In appreciation of Octoberskyies.

Oneshots with Other People's Tavs - Various Ratings

The Night at Last Light Inn. Explicit sexual content, Rolan and M!Tav, Nox, share a passionate night, belonging to and in collaboration with @bihanny.

Memories of Clover. Explicit sexual content, drama & romance with @azrielsbbg's F!Tav, Clover, winner of a Rolan fic giveaway.

Touch of The Tempest. Mature. Rolan tries to teach f!Tav, Nuelith, to control her magic, and triggers a terrifying loss of control. For Mandi.

A Wizard Keeps His Word. Mature. Atop the Elder Brain, Gale sacrifices himself for his lovers f!tav, Kira, and Astarion. For @callmesimplyflo.

Happily Ever After. General, Astarion and Ghost (m!Tav), in domestic bliss. Secret Santa for Eddie.

Despair. Deliberation. Defiance. Mature. The Dark Urge is confronted and comforted by Jay, f!Tav, after slaying a tiefling bard. For jayofthenorth.

Rolan Lore / Head Canon - General

Rolan romantic line suggestion

Descent into Avernus / BG3 theme

Player-is-evil Rolan ending suggestion

Letters from Rolan

Auntie Ethel Vicious Mockery 1

Auntie Ethel Vicious Mockery 2

Rolan, Cal, and Lia react to Ramazith's Tower bathroom

Environment in Ramazith's Tower post-game

Ramazith's Tower post-game part 2

Rolan 'dating service video script'

Rolan's Hair

Cal's Hair

Cal post-game

Other Oneshots - Various Ratings

What if Lorroakan was Named Larry Pickle. Mature, Comedy with a lot of silliness and 4th wall breaks.

In Memory of Kanon. General, Kanon, no!

Commissioned and Gifted Art

Commissioned art for The Elturian Prodigy by Alvin Asiaten.

A beautiful three panel sexually explicit comic based on the intimate scene in Chapter 35 of the 'What if' fic by Lexindre.

A favourite scene from the 'What if' fic, Lexindre drew this incredible piece from Chapter 36 as a birthday gift.

[satansapostle6]

The Crush | Percy Jackson

Percy Jackson is a cool, simple guy who is also the famous son of Poseidon who helped save the world. But, talking to the pretty girl in his English class still seems impossible.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Violence. Sexual content.

Chapter One: Pussy Jackson

Percy sat behind Chloé in English. She was tall and intimidating, and he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to work up the courage to talk to her. Sure, he wasn’t in high school anymore, but he still felt nervous around her like he was sixteen years old again. Chloé Jardine was, after all, the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

He knew Chloé was a Roman demigod, a daughter of Nox, the Roman equivalent of Nyx, the goddess of darkness and the night. She was a fairly typical child of Nox, a sort of minimalistic goth.

She had long, pitch black hair, with tiny micro bangs partially covering her forehead. She was also noticeably pale, as if she only ever went out at nighttime. Most people thought she looked scary, but Percy thought she looked magical.

Chloé had a decent amount of tattoos, including a pretty sizable spider web on her neck. She had a lot of piercings, including an eyebrow piercing and a vertical labret on her lip. She didn’t really wear makeup, but she was very obviously a goth. She was smart, and she didn’t talk a lot at all, which drove Percy insane. He made it his mission in life to know as much about her as possible.

Every time he saw her wearing a band T-shirt of some kind to school, he’d make a note of the band name and look it up later if he wasn’t familiar, and listen to all of the songs he could find.

So far, he’d listened to Type O Negative, Bauhaus, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Sisters of Mercy, Kittie, and Rob Zombie, only affirming his opinion that she was the coolest person on earth. His best friend, Grover, thought the behavior was just a little bit obsessive, but didn’t really think it was that bad.

That day in his college English course, he was sitting in his seat, listening to Soundgarden during the lecture on his laptop with the tab open, secretly hoping Chloé would have some some reason to walk back and look at his computer screen. Soundgarden wasn’t goth, of course, but Percy had seen her wear one of their shirts.

“Hey! Pussy Jackson!”

Percy frowned to see Clarisse La Rue sitting in a seat a couple rows behind him.

“Move your fat fucking head, I can’t see!”

“‘I’m doing fine, thank you, Clarisse’,” he mocked her under his breath. “‘How was your weekend’?”

Percy was startled to look up to see Chloé turned around in front of him.

“Will you two shut the fuck up?!” she whispered, staring at them in disbelief.

Percy’s face must have been beet red as he tried his hardest not to explode. He was dying of embarrassment as he tried to come up with some sort of answer.

“Uh, yeah! Sorry!” he apologized in a whisper.

Chloé just turned back around, shaking her head as she continued taking messy notes on the assignment due dates. Percy leaned forward slightly, looking curiously at her notebook. He found her handwriting interesting; it was kind of small with a lot sharp edges, written in haste without being too messy, almost like a doctor’s handwriting.

Percy knew he must’ve been lost in his horny ADHD world, because before he knew it, the instructor had just finished announcing the next project, a group project worth 20% of his grade.

“Alright, the groups are posted up here, so you can all come and take a look. You’ll have the rest of this class to figure out a presentation topic and get started,” the professor, a woman in her forties, announced as she retreated to her desk.

Alarmed by the words ‘groups’ and ‘presentation’, Percy anxiously made his way down to the whiteboard with everyone else, terrified to receive his group assignment. He prayed silently that he’d get at least one smart kid in his group, and zero Clarisse’s. As he slowly scanned the list of names up and down, his face went pale as he found his other two group mates. Clarisse La Rue and Chloé Jardine.

Percy wanted to kill himself immediately. Not only did he have to work with Clarisse, but he also had to figure out how to work with Chloé, who had just told him to shut the fuck up not two seconds ago, the first words she had ever spoken to him. He glanced back at Clarisse, who was standing beside Chloé. Neither of them looked very happy about the group assignment.

Percy glanced over at the peofessor’s desk, contemplating whether he should try and get a different group. He decided against it, figuring he’d had enough embarrassment for one day. Signing as he realized he’d have to face Chloé eventually, he walked over to where the girls were standing, ready to face the music. He’d fought monsters and faced imminent doom before, and somehow this felt exactly the same.

“I’m not doing all of the work,” Chloé crossed her arms.

“What makes you think you’d be doing all the work?!” Clarisse asked defensively.

“Because I’m in a group with you!”

“Hey…” Percy waved awkwardly, trying to break the ice, which seemed to also somehow be scalding hot.

“Oh, yeah. You’re in this group too,” Clarisse rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, unfortunately,” Percy retaliated childishly.

“Okay. We need to come up with a topic,” Chloé reminded them. “Which one should our presentation be about?”

“What are the options?” Percy asked, watching as she just let out a long sigh.

The next hour of class went by as slowly as possible. By the end of it, Clarisse had stormed out of the classroom, and Percy and Chloé were left sitting together exhaustedly. Chloé sighed as she got up, heading out of the building as Percy followed her.

“Sorry about Clarisse,” he offered sympathetically. “She drives everyone who has to deal with her insane.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to get that,” Chloé nodded.

*****

Percy felt odd, and completely out of place the entire time he sat in class discussing the project with Chloé. Every time she spoke to him, he felt more stupid. He knew nothing about what he wanted to do for the project, and he was even less prepared to answer these questions when asked by Chloé Jardine. And of course, Clarisse also being a part of the group didn’t help.

But Percy figured it was almost worth it, getting to work on the project with Chloé, with her cool hair, tattoos and piercings, and blue eyes, the same icy blue eyes that mesmerized him when he spoke to her. Percy had to clear his throat and check his breath twice before smiling at her as she turned, just having ordered a coffee from the kiosk nearby.

“Hey,” Percy wheezed, realizing how eager he sounded stalk to her, cursing himself silently.

“Hi,” Chloé said with slight surprise, sipping the warm coffee.

She looked at him expectantly, wondering what it was he could’ve possibly had to say to her. Chloé had already done a brief mental scan of Percy; she knew that he was the Greek son of Poseidon, by his shaggy black hair and sea green eyes.

She knew from the perpetual dopey expression on his face that he was attracted to her in some way. She’d seen the way he looked at her and assumed that it was mostly more sexual than emotional, based on the way his eyes lingered on her skin and the way he was constantly averting his eyes from her chest.

“See you,” Chloé smiled, politely excusing herself as she walked away.

“Fuck,” Percy muttered under his breath as he watched her walk away.

He sighed in defeat as he watched Chloé walk away from him, thinking of a hundred things in that moment he wished he’d said to her.

“It’ll never happen, you know.”

Percy whipped around quickly, alarmed as he turned around in the direction of the voice he’d heard. Naturally, the disapproving voice had belonged to Annabeth, his sharp-witted child of Athena ex-girlfriend.

“What?” Percy questioned defensively.

“You and Chloé,” she responded promptly.

Percy crossed his arms. “What makes you think—”

“That you’re infatuated with her?” she asked him. “I know you, Jackson.”

“I’m not infatuated with Chloé,” Percy rolled his eyes at her.

“Well. Infatuated or not, her ex-boyfriend is Sean Morley. The son of Apollo?” Annabeth Chase smirked. “With the blond hair, and the shoulders?”

“Why are you so invested?” he ignored her, questioning her skeptically.

Annabeth smiled, patting his shoulder sympathetically. “Because. It’s fun watching you refuse to learn,” she said as her demeanor softened.

Annabeth walked off and disappeared, leaving Percy to do a lot of thinking.

-

Chapter Two

[itsboredoom]

So, about names in yorukura.

This is very obviously about the episode nine montage and, well, everything that happened in that episode, but the whole thing goes way back to Mei's introduction, if not further.

Mei is Nonoka's fan first and foremost, and Kano tries to correct her, but ultimately fails as the series goes on. We already knew that Kano doesn't feel particularly good about her old self, but after the events of this episode it becomes much clearer what the name "Nonoka" means to her.

Yukine stopped having a daughter. Or more accurately, she stopped having her daughter and replaced her with an idol persona, only acting motherly to keep her dreams afloat (on an unrelated note, I think she treats Mero the same way, considering how Mero thinks of her). Kano expresses discomfort in her persona, and even more so, when talking to her father, she feels happy to be called by her real name for the first time "in ages". She discovers the mural and falls in love with its weirdness, with its expressiveness, and writes lyrics about how it gives her the hope she can shine on as herself.

Kano knows better than anyone how much names affect your perception of someone, she experienced it first hand. Which leads us to Yoru/Mahiru. Kano has been using "Yoru", Mahiru's artist name, all the way until episode 7. That is when she starts seeing Mahiru as much more than an artist. It's interesting, knowing Kano prefers going by her real name, and specifically asks her if she also has a preference. It is one of the many ways she parallels yet differs from her mother, from chasing numbers to registering creator and person who creates as different terms (Yoru and Mahiru, Nonoka and Kano).

In the fallout, the lovely line of "you're just a jellyfish who can't swim" starts with Kano correcting herself from using "Mahiru" to using "Yoru", because at that moment she was betrayed by the artist who went behind her back and teamed up with the enemy, and yet when she's by herself she still says Mahiru, because she was betrayed by the friend who values working under her mother more than her.

Mahiru stance to "Yoru" is pretty unclear to me. At the start of the show it is a name she has abandoned, alongside her artistic expression, for fear of being made fun of. But when she gets asked what she prefers, she says Yoru is fine. I think for her, now that she's grown back into her passion, they mean the same thing. Which also alludes to her choice. She wants to draw and to improve and to do anything to become better. Mahiru is slowly becoming more Yoru, and that is exactly what affected her relationship with Kano.

And that is without even going into Mei not being fully Japanese and therefore bullied as child for being called Kim, until she changed herself to fit in. Or Kiui finding confidence in her name and her uniqueness until it was stripped away from her once she didn't grow out of it, becoming a shut-in and expressing herself under the alias of Nox.

In conclusion, knowing how much I struggle to name my own characters I feel bad for the writers who had to come up with so many but goddamn if that doesn't elevate the story so much more. This episode was pain and I really wish hopeless lesbian Kano learns how to communicate about what her past means to her, since she's been failing at that from the very start of the series.

[cocogum]

Armand’s treatment and how it impacted his life.

(‼️ Spoilers for Wakfu Season 4 and its first four episodes ‼️)

One thing that saddened me a lot when I was watching episode 4 was how Armand revealed to Amalia that he had wished he could go on adventures with her and the brotherhood sometimes.

This surprised me at first but I soon realized that it made perfect sense.

Armand was always jealous of her but I initially thought that it was only because she had the most attention from people, even their father. But Armand is the type to keep his thoughts to himself which would explain why despite how we see him looking at Amalia with a disapproving look, we never really got to hear him express his thoughts to her. His reason for wanting to go on adventures with her is also made clear: not only does he want to explore the world because it seems like fun since his sister always felt happy because of it, but the major reason is that he wants his father to look at him just like how he looked at Amalia.

When he finally tells her all of his thoughts and what he wants, we can’t help but feel like what he wishes to have can no longer be granted. Their father died not long ago, it is now too late to do anything.

Armand could’ve spoken up during all those years Amalia went to go on adventures. He had all the time in the world because he was always beside his father at all times.

But no matter how close he was to him, Armand never had the strength to speak his thoughts just like how Amalia dared to do so. It’s ironic really, Armand had the time and the moment to tell his father everything and yet, he didn’t because he didn’t think it was in his right to speak about himself and what he wanted to try.

The years of constantly seeing how his sister was getting loved by the people, how she was being viewed and called a hero by the very same people he was working hard to protect in his own way, how their father kept praising her constantly for whatever she did, how she kept getting adoration for adventuring and risking her life to save her people, while he was instead cooped up in the kingdom learning and practicing how to become king, left him in a position where he believed Amalia always had the upper hand on anything even when he wanted to express himself.

He had learned that every time he proposed an idea or even said some of his thoughts out loud during a particular situation, he would always get shut down by either his sister or his father, sometimes even both (the time when he decided to use a barrier of vines to block Ogrest’s tears but his father told him that his attempts were just “alright” when they were actually very effective for some time, the time where he told Amalia that she can’t leave while his father is terribly sick but his father supports Amalia and encourages her to go with Yugo, the time when Armand stated that none of the rulers had come to support them but his father cuts him off by saying that the queen of Bonta at least brought Joris to them which made Armand’s words sound minuscule and not as serious as the prince intended, etc.)

Granted, sometimes he deserved it (like the time when he got slapped by Eva when he was disrespectful to Dally in the OVAs or the time he did not listen to Amalia’s warnings when she told him Nox was coming and when she tried explaining who Yugo and Adamaï were back in Season 1 but not being listened to despite having Eva to back her up) but the majority of the time, he was trying his best to please his father and barely got a good comment for it.

So it wouldn’t be far-fetched to think that Armand never spoke about what he wanted to his father because he had a strong feeling that the answer wouldn’t be a good one.

As if things couldn’t get any worse for him, when his father takes his last breath and Armand was the only one there for him, who has been by his side all this time, who has devoted his entire life to training, learn and work hard to be like his father, he had only words for Amalia.

To hear his father only speak about his youngest sister and not mention him at all, must’ve terribly broke him on the inside. Even when his father was on his deathbed, he did not address everything that Armand did for him.

And it’s sad to see this happening.

Even though his relationship with his father and sister was mostly shown in the background, it was pretty obvious that their family had some issues that no one wanted to address in the room.

I feel like, in a way, we can somehow relate to Armand.

To feel like we can’t speak our minds properly because of a sibling or a figure in our lives who has shown to be better than us, even when we do work very hard to get noticed we barely get any comments or praises of the same size as theirs, to feel like we don’t matter as much as them so we should just stop talking and let them have their spotlight at all times.

And when we finally get the chance to gain our confidence or get into a position where we don’t feel as self-conscious as we used to before, we come to find out that it’s already too late to express ourselves to the people we’ve been waiting to truly be honest to, because they’re already gone or have moved on from you.

Armand’s case is a bittersweet and albeit depressing one.

What could have been a story of adventure, even if just for one day, was never realized. What could have been an experience that could have felt like a lifetime never happened. What could have been an adventure where he finally has his fun and gains a unique brotherly sisterly duo bond in combat would never become a reality. And what could have been a special moment in his life where he gets to personally know his sister’s friends would always stay a dream.

If only he knew that even a brotherhood member, Evangelyne, has a sister, Cleophee, who had her fun in the group. And even if it was just for a few days, a few moments, Eva’s sister had cemented her place in the Brotherhood and became an official member. To think that even if he had stayed a bit in the group, he would have not just become a part of their lives, but also become a part of their brotherhood.

But despite it all, Armand kept his chin up and looked forward to the future. He did not wallow in his sadness or blame Amalia for his silence during all these years. Instead, he pulls her up and tells her to not be saddened by their father’s departure, especially in front of his tomb tree, and consoles her as they hug.

Unlike anyone else, I believe Armand was able to push his selfish thoughts away (which involved blaming his sister for everything) and instead behaved like a king, someone who, despite not gaining everything he wanted in life, kept going and faced forward for what was to come.

Even though he has not been abandoned by his family, he did feel like he might've been behind everyone else at some point in his life.

He may have not been a part of the brotherhood but he’ll always have a place in his sister’s heart after what he did for her.

And I believe that his competence and his will to protect his kingdom without leaving for adventure would make him get along greatly with a certain white dragon.

[kokiriri]

One thing I love about tumblr is that people just rant and yap about their fav tv shows and special interests, and boy do I eat that stuff up like crazyyy

So that's why I decided to talk about Wakfu s3&s4 and the issues I have with them😝

Right off the bat, one of the things that confused me most was the blame game in s3/s4. Yugo is made responsible for all of the major tragedies that had afflicted the World of Twelve up until now, which c'mon, there are so many factors that contribute to the Nox, Qilby, and Ogrest incidences that you can't just pin it all on one guy. And yet, the show does just that, revealing in s3 that because Yugo messed around with the Dofus to save the world from an early Great Wave, the Eliotrope race was created, which people were the ones responsible for leaving the Eliacube with Nox, allowing every event thus far to be made possible. Oropo preaches that since Yugo is the creator of the Eliotropes, the latter is therefore the one to blame, not the villains who exercised their agency in making decisions to harm others, or the Eliotropes (who I think have their own consciousnesses and wills, making them entirely separate from Yugo other than shared likes/dislikes) or any of the world leaders who failed to unite and take action, basically forcing Yugo to take drastic measures in the OVA episodes. I don't know, I just can't understand how the show shoulders all the blame onto Yugo, when clearly, he isn't the major instigator of these massive tragedies. Sure, his actions have allowed the seasons' villains to do what they did, but ultimately, the villains chose their paths as well.

Another thing that threw me off was Qilby's character and how he is forgiven through an 'ultimate sacrifice' despite having committed heinous crimes in the past. I still don't know what truly happened during the Eliatrope war (I don't think anyone does, because the game, manga, and show all explain it differently) but going off the manga, if I remember correctly, Qilby stole Orgonax's heart and christened it as the Eliacube, using its power to sate his unquenchable thirst for experimentation and exploration.

This enraged Orgonax and his fellow Mechasms, who at the time were peacefully coexisting with the Eliatropes, and a war subsequently broke out between the two races. The Eliatropes flee, end up at the World of Twelve, Qilby CONTACTS THE MECHASMS to come to the Eliatropes' new planet, ANOTHER WAR BREAKS OUT, yada yada, you probably remember the rest of the story from how it's detailed in s2. In the last episode of season 2, Qilby is labeled a murderer, being responsible for the massive loss of life during the Eliatrope/Mechasm war, namely the one to blame for the deaths of the Eliatrope children's parents. One of the Eliatrope children dubs Qilby as the "assassin of their parents" which title Qilby does not deny, but rather responds with "shut up." It is made known that Qilby wishes to drain the World of Twelve to power the Eliacube and the Eliatropic spaceship, the Zinit, showing a frightening lack of concern for other people and planets. However, in s4, this all seems to be forgotten?? Qilby's past crimes are never mentioned, the most we get is Yugo calling Qilby a "monster," but other than that, nothing!! Don't get me wrong, I love Qilby as a character - I think he's the most interesting season villain in Wakfu - but this blatant disregard for his past was so strange and frankly frustrating that it made the whole "Qilby-forgiveness" thing seem so... idk, undeserved? The show treats Qilby's wrongdoings in such a light-hearted manner, that it almost feels inappropriate. Genocide of an entire race is no silly matter to be throwing loaves of bread at (which Qilby quite literally does.)

His sacrifice for Yugo was also extremely out of character. I'm not French, but in the s4 episode where Qilby is dying after saving Yugo from Toross, Qilby says something along the lines of "before we are enemies, we are brothers" which oh mannn WHERE WAS THAT IN SEASON 2??? And then as Qilby dies, he says, "Good luck, my brother... my king," indicating that Qilby now acknowledges Yugo as the owner of the Eliatrope crown. But I find that so hard to believe, as in the manga, the whole reason Qilby harvested Ogornax's heart, and started a series of wars, was because he was angry that Yugo was crowned king, as it halted the Eliatropes' exploration of the cosmos.

((Some quick appreciation for older manga Yugo. We need this design back immediately🙏)) Why would he accept Yugo as his king now? Was it all an act to get on Yugo's good side to ensure Yugo saves the universe that Qilby hopes to explore and exploit later in the future? Or am I just reading too much into it? Also, we can't forget that Qilby is quite literally insane, and was shown to harbor dark feelings against Yugo after having been imprisoned for thousands of years in the White Dimension. Add that to what I said earlier, and you begin to question how and why did Qilby suddenly change attitudes in Season 4? Lmk your thoughts because Qilby still confuses me.

Because this post is already getting quite long, I'll touch on just one more subject that annoyed me in s3/s4: Yugo and Amalia's relationship. I do love them, but I would've been just fine, maybe better, if Yugo was not romantically involved with anyone. Anyways, s3 picks up where the OVA left off on their relationship; they're both mutually attracted to each other and have a desire to be together. However, there is one major roadblock, which is obviously Yugo's physical appearance. There are other issues as well, but this problem is the most severe. Due to biological differences, Yugo ages at an extremely decelerated rate compared to Amalia (I think just the 6 main Eliatropes suffer from this, as the other Eliatropes seemed to have aged regularly in the manga.) He appears as he did in s1/s2, just slightly taller, but he looks like he's around 13-14 years old. Physically, he's actually around 20-22 years old, and Amalia uses this fact to help justify why is okay for them to be together, describing him as "a man in a child's body." (Idek where to begin or how to feel about that, but oh-key...) Some time after, Yugo and "Ruel" (Sipho in disguise) have a talk about the former's feelings towards the Sadida. Yugo feels conflicted on whether his feelings are romantic or not, and voices his frustrations concerning Amalia's failure to listen to or understand him. He also talks about how he's struggling to grapple with his longevity, and what that really means for him in the long run. Whaddya know, Amalia is eavesdropping the entire time, and begins to cry and grow irritated with him. To me, it seems like she failed to see the central issues Yugo is dealing with: 1) He doesn't feel ready for anything serious because 2) He's likely going to live for thousands of years. She instead gets peeved that he's still hesitant on his feelings and that he called her egotistical (which girl, c'mon you can't complain when you literally called him the same thing moments before in front of Ruel and Elely.) Heartbreak is hard, but this outcome should have been expected. Yugo looks like a child, Amalia looks like an adult, and if they were to be together, it would super weird and inappropriate.

A lot of other things happen in s3, but I do want to touch on Oropo and Amalia. Oropo takes Amalia alone and kisses her in the sky, and Amalia, after discovering Oropo's physical likeness to Yugo, lets him kiss her again (in front of Yugo no less) She even defends Oropo when Yugo tries to challenge the Eliotrope, telling Yugo basically to give up, and that she no longer needs him now that an "older, more experienced" version of him is now in the picture. At the very least, I'm relieved that Amalia shows that she wants to be together with a physical adult, but also, girl?? Some guy shows up, claims to be basically the same person as your crush, and you just roll with it? Dawg be fr. Anyways, Oropo's intention of basically blowing up the World of Twelve in order to destroy the gods comes to light, Amalia decides he's a freak and goes running back to Yugo. She gives this little speech of why Yugo's better than Oropo, Yugo and her hug as a way to make up I guess, and then they kinda(?) kick Eliotrope butt (they escape thanks to Echo ((rest in power queen)) but a win is a win.) Season 4 comes out and they're backing to holding hands, hugging, and giving goodbye kisses. What? Like no, I'm sorry, but they have been fighting on and off for the entirety of the last season and they still haven't talked together about the things Yugo was meaning to discuss on the Enutrof level, but now everything is alright? I was sure that the 'Oropo kiss' incident would be brought up in s4, but it never was. On top of that, despite having shown resistance towards pursuing a relationship with Amalia in s3, Yugo throws all cares out the window in s4, and just does whatever. She becomes his motivation for everything, which idk, I kind of don't really like it when a character makes their love interest their sole reason for living??

I could talk more on the Yugo/Amalia relationship because there's so many more issues that I did not cover in the above paragraph, but I think I'll just leave it at that. I'll put this out there, I do like s3 and s4, and it's really a shame s4 only got 13 episodes to cover a story I believe could've been super successful with 24 episodes. However, s1 and s2 will always be my favorites😋

I guess that's all, I would love to hear other people's thoughts and opinions on s3&s4 because it'd be interesting to see if you guys saw the same issues I did in this "critique."

(Also, just want to credit HumanDisapointment on Reddit for the awesome colorings of the manga pages!)