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ghoulie-67-baby · 6 months

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Rule breaker- Wizarding world.

Summary: You tried to be a good girl, but a certain Sirius Black makes you break rules.

Warnings: Domxsub dynamics, pet names, SMUT (were not pissing around), Edging (without permission I guess), manipulation, subspace, crying, cum play, using sub as ‘cum dump’, lying, punishment, cum eating, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, slight blackout,

Pairing: Wolfstar x fem!reader.

Word count: 6,290.

The walk to class was never an easy one. Hogwarts was filled with magic and mischievous ghosts and moving staircases but today this wasn't my issue with getting to classes on time. I had 7 minutes to get to my lesson and I knew if I didn't want to get into trouble with Remus and Sirius then I needed to haul ass, despite my tired legs.

Sighing heavily, I began to climb another staircase, noticing it had not long moved and so wouldn't for a while, and trudging down the corridor with a yawn as my body fought to rouse from its sleep. Despite me having a lie-in, I was still drowsy but I put that down to not getting up until 20 minutes before my class, barely leaving myself enough time to get ready. If Sirius and Remus didn't have an early class then I would have gotten woken but I liked to push my luck when they weren't there. It meant nobody was there to see me break the rules but that was my little secret.

I was almost to the end of the corridor where my first lesson was when a smirking Sirius walked out of an empty room, as if he was waiting for me, with a smug look on his face, blocking my path.

"Well, well, well what have we here?" The grin never left his face as he leaned against the wall on his shoulder and crossed his arms. I smiled sweetly up at him, hoping he didn't point out my sleepy eyes and ruffled looks.

"Morning Pads, how was your first lesson?" Hopefully diverting the attention to him would take his attention from my lie-in.

"It wasn't so bad, I think the most important question is how was your late start Poppet?" I froze and bit my lip, I knew there wasn't any point in denying it unless I wanted to get into any further trouble.

"I didn't mean to get up late, Moony usually has time to wake me but he couldn't this morning." I watched as he nodded his head in faux agreement almost as if he was mocking me before smiling sweetly and moving to kiss my head.

"Well, I have something that could wake you up," His lips ghosted over my temple as he rubbed his hands up and down my arms. I knew by now I was late to my class and the thought of Remus' disappointment made my stomach turn slightly. At the same time, I didn't want to disappoint Sirius, after all, they were both my Doms and so I had to abide by both sets of rules. It was almost as if he could read my mind because he smiled down at me and grabbed my hand, pulling me gently behind him and into the empty room.

"Don't worry Y/N, it's not rule-breaking because you're following my rules." I relaxed a bit more and let my arms wrap around him as he kissed my neck before meeting his lips in a rough kiss. It didn't take long for him to have me perched on the edge of the table, he stood between my parted legs and my hands tangled in his hair as I panted harshly. His hands expertly lifted me from my perch before slipping my underwear off, letting them drop to the floor before grinning down at me. Well at least he got one thing right: I really was wide awake now.

My head hung back, eyes closed and mouth open in a silent moan as he pushed into me with a groan as he bottomed out, stretching me out nicely. For a moment he was still and I looked up at him, admiring his mess of hair as his eyes sparkled with a mischievous smirk. Before long, his stillness turned to short thrusts as he tried to restrain himself before becoming rough and harsh which he knew I loved. The classroom was filled with groans as he chased after his high, using me like I was there for his pleasure only which made whimpers escape me alongside muffled moans as he covered my mouth with his hand to quieten me. My hips bucked in time with his as I gripped his shoulders for support, pulling at his shirt as I got closer to the edge. With a moan, Sirius pushed into me as far as he could before I felt hot thick ropes of his cum coat my insides, almost pushing me over the edge.

Just before I could get my release, he removed himself from me, leaving me a panting and shaking mess that could barely stand up as he moved away to straighten out his uniform. Tears collected in my eyes as I watched him in shock and annoyance. The sparkle never left his eyes as he grinned back at me, straightening his tie.

"Next time don't break the rules and you can cum, you bad girl. Remus is going to be so disappointed in his good little girl when I tell him what you've done. See ya later Poppet." With a wave and a mocking smile, he disappeared out the door and to his next lesson. I tried to shout after him but he ignored me as he ran to his next class.

Now two rules had been broken. I had been late for my class and let Sirius use me without Remus being there or giving permission. Usually, that had to be discussed between the three of us or agreed upon by Remus but this time I knew I would definitely be in trouble, especially if Sirius was to tell Remus it was my idea.

The decision to skip classes was a quick one and so I pulled my underwear back up, ignoring Sirius' cum that slowly seeped out of me, and sped back to our dorm without a word to anyone. Once I reached the common room, I ran upstairs to Remus and Sirius' room and threw myself on the Lycanthrope's bed with a huff. Usually, girls weren't allowed in the boy's dorm, and vice versa, but of course the marauders had found a way around it.

The rest of my morning was spent with me sulking in Remus' bed, trying to read my books but distracted by the need to cum and also by the thought of punishment from my Dom. I had swaddled myself in one of Remus' jumpers, leaving my skirt on and curling under the covers. The day dragged by and if anyone had noticed I hadn't turned up to any class then they mustn't have said anything because no visitors came up, which I was grateful for. As dinner passed, my stomach growled at me but I ignored it as a sick twisted feeling grew. I felt so incredibly guilty and though it was Sirius who had the idea, I shouldn't have agreed because Remus wasn't there too. I knew better than this and now I wasn't a good girl anymore. At least I didn't break a third rule by touching myself without permission even though I was desperate to.

The afternoon was filled with me slipping in and out of subspace, crying to myself and napping because I was exhausted from crying. I was so caught up in my emotions that I forgot Remus finished before Sirius who had an extra class after him. My eyes were still blurred by the tears that tracked down my cheeks when the bedroom door opened and I held in a breath, glad that my face was hidden away from whoever it was by Remus' pillow and my body covered in his blankets. I stiffened as a hand rested against my covered ankle but I soon relaxed when the familiar scent of pine wood and chocolate clouded my senses. Though the intruder had been identified as my Dom, I still kept my face hidden, not wanting to face him right now as guilt wracked me.

"Hey bunny, how come you weren't in lessons?" His voice was so soft and sweet just as it always was when he knew I was having a bad day but today I didn't deserve for him to be nice. "Is everything okay?" I couldn't answer him so I nodded silently. "Bun, Look at me." His voice was slightly harder, knowing he needed to be firm so I'd listen. Reluctantly, I turned onto my other side so he could see my face and raised my eyes to meet his, knowing they were red and puffy. His face flashed with concern and he raised a hand to caress my cheek but I stopped him, shaking my head.

"What happened Bunny?" Remus was far from stupid and wouldn't stop until he got to the bottom of this mess. "Did someone hurt you?"

"No," My voice came out as a whisper. "I'm just a bad girl Remmy, I'm sorry." I got a look of confusion as I curled my legs towards my chest.

"No, you could never be a bad girl f'me Y/N, you're my good girl. What makes you think you're a bad girl?" I bit back a whimper and sighed knowing I had to tell him. Obviously, Sirius hadn't told him so now was my chance to tell him what truly happened.

"I broke two rules. Nearly broke three Remmy." His back straightened slightly as I spoke but he didn't speak, instead he allowed me the chance to explain my wrongdoings. "I got out of bed really late 'n' nearly missed my lesson but when I was making my way to my class Sirius stopped me in the corridor, I would've been on time if he hadn't. I told him I was going to be late because I knew it would be better to tell the truth but I wasn't fully awake yet so he said he could wake me up and pulled me into one of the empty rooms." I sniffled as he nodded for me to continue. "Siri said it would be okay because I was following his rules and being good to him so I wouldn't get in trouble with you but when he was finished he didn't let me cum and left me in the room on my own after telling me I was a bad girl and you were gunna be disappointed with me. I ran straight back up here and haven't been to any lessons. I didn't want him to lie to you about it." By the time I was finished, he looked angry and I sat on the bed with fresh tears on my cheeks, sniffling like a baby.

"Oh Bunny, you poor thing." He crooned, running his hand over my hair and wiping away one of my tears. "So Sirius lied to you about it being okay and then didn't let you finish. Is that why you're so upset? Because you want to cum?"

"Kind of, yes but because I was bad as well, I didn't mean to be bad, he said I was being good f'him." I shifted uncomfortably against the blanket which didn't go unnoticed.

"You're not bad, Sirius is the one that's bad Bunny and I'll be dealing with him later." His eyes travelled down to my curled-up legs. "Did he clean you up after at least?" I shook my head no as he gently pulled down the covers. I let my legs part as he moved my underwear to one side and sighed in frustration at our boyfriend. "Why haven't you cleaned his cum away Bun?"

"I didn't wanna break another rule so I left it," I admitted, blushing as he watched Sirius' cum leak from me. Remus shook his head and moved back to his sitting position before smiling at me softly.

"You're not a bad girl, you know you should get up earlier but if Sirius hadn't stopped you and done this then you would have been on time for the lesson which I would've let slide. As for what happened, That's his fault and he will be punished accordingly so don't worry, you didn't break the rules. I'm very proud that you didn't want to break another rule but you can still clean yourself up Love, we wouldn't class that as rule-breaking."

"Thank you for not being angry Remmy." I smiled, feeling a little better about the day now that he knew what had happened. With a sigh I sat up and shuffled into Remus' lap to cuddle him, knowing now he wasn't angry at me at all. His warm arms wrapped around me gently and I nuzzled into his chest, getting as close as physically possible, feeling a little better now I knew he wasn't angry with me.

"Let's get you cleaned up Love and then I can help you out." I nodded and climbed out of his lap and walked into the bathroom, whining when I felt something warm drip through my underwear and down my thigh. The lycanthrope chuckled as I watched it slip down my leg and began to strip off my clothes, leaving them in a pile on the bathroom floor as he got me some fresh underwear and one of his cardigans. He knew I hated wearing my clothes because his and Siri's were always more comfortable.

I waited in the bathroom for him to come back, shifting from one foot to the other as my hands stayed clasped in front of me, not wanting to be tempted into rule-breaking. As he walked back in, he smiled at me and kissed my head before stripping my underwear off and leaning me over the bathroom counter gently. I gasped as the cold surface met my chest and closed my eyes, holding in a whimper as he brushed his fingers over my hip gently, seeing the new bruises that had formed from Sirius' hands. I didn't mind the bruises, I actually loved having them, made me feel like I belonged. Seconds later, I jolted out of my thoughts as he started to clean me up, tutting to himself, being as gentle as always with me. A small moan slipped through my lips as he finished cleaning me, forgetting how sensitive and needy I was at the moment.

"Sorry Bun, "He pressed a kiss to my shoulder before sliding my feet into the underwear and pulling them up as I stood up from the counter. The wool of the cardigan glided across my skin as I melted into the fabric, encased in the Wolf's scent, and snuggled into his chest as I was buried in his arms. "That better now love?" I nodded against his chest and hummed happily before kissing his cheek gently.

"Thank you, Remmy." He gave me another squeeze before walking back into the room with me and patting his lap as he sat on the bed, against the headboard. I grinned and climbed onto the bed, settling myself so I was straddling him with my legs on either side of his hips. His hands looked huge against my thighs and I traced the scars on them with a small smile.

"Feeling better now little one?" His eyes were warm and kind as always. I nodded as his thumb rubbed against my skin, feeling a little more settled but still itching for some sort of contact. "Still feeling needy huh? Have you eaten yet Bunny?" I dropped my eyes from his and glanced at his hands shyly whilst shaking my head slowly. "Well, you need to eat a little something before anything happens because I don't want you getting ill." I nodded softly and clambered off his lap as he nipped down to the common room to make a sandwich. After he had brought it up and settled on the bed with me, I nibbled at it in little bits, glad to have the encouragement of my dom, not wanting to eat after the day I'd had but doing it because I knew he was right. Once I had finished half, I looked at Moony and he nodded in understanding, taking the plate and placing it on the bedside table, he knew I couldn't eat it all at the moment.

Minutes passed, and I let my food settle and had a drink of water before I started to feel fidgety and needy again. I pressed my face into the Lycanthrope's neck as I whined at him, hoping it would catch his attention. He chuckled but pulled my face to him, letting our lips connect into a gentle kiss. Instantly, I melted with a small sigh as my chest fell so it was pressing against his comfortably, soothed by the feeling of his thumb rubbing my skin gently. I whimpered quietly as I felt his bulge start to grow beneath me and tried as hard as I could to keep my hips still. Large hands slid from my thighs to my waist and started to move my hips slowly, silently allowing me to grind against him as my head started to cloud.

Warmth spread through my body as the anxiety and frustration I had from earlier melted away in lust for my Dom. The feeling of his rough hands against my hips mixed with the bulge beneath me had my back arching as I sped up the pace a little.

"Ah ah Bunny, you've had a very overwhelming and emotional day," He cut himself off with a low groan, grip tightening on my hips. "You need to take this slow or you'll drop and we know how bad you get when that happens don't we?" I knew the question was rhetorical so I slowed myself down back to the original speed before wrapping my arms around his neck loosely. His warmth soothed me until a chuckle began to rumble in his chest which caught my attention. "Bun, I can feel how wet you are right now and I've barely touched you. I can smell you too, you smell delicious." His voice lowered considerably when he said it and I hid my face in his throat as the blood flushed my already warm cheeks. "Awww my shy girl, don't have to be shy f'me Bun, let me see your pretty little face." I lifted my head to find him smiling at me lovingly and pulling open the buttons of the cardigan, exposing my bare chest to him. Warm lips met my collarbone as he kept my hips moving slowly but kissed any skin he could get to. I let my head fall back and my mouth open in a sigh of relief as his mouth made its way down to my nipples, which had hardened when the cool air of the dorm met them. I wrapped my fingers into his hair and pulled his head from my chest gently.

"Remmy, I really really need you," I pressed my forehead against his, pressing my core against him harder. "Please, want you to do whatever you want with me. Make me do anything to you, use my mouth or my body, anything." I truly was desperate for anything he was willing to give me, I was on the verge of tears.

"Bun, I'm not gonna use you, Sirius did that and you ended up in this state so I'm gonna help you and give you what you need and want. This is about you baby." His hands manoeuvred me as he spoke, placing me against the pillows carefully as my breath caught in my throat. "Now, what's my name little one?"

"Daddy, you're my Daddy." I didn't have the energy or patience to be bratty about it so I gave him the right answer the first time.

"Good girl, now let Daddy take these off," He tugged at the waistband of my underwear and I lifted my hips so he could slip them off. "Let me see my pretty girl." I let my legs spread and watched as he grinned and licked his lips as if he was hungry. "Atta girl." A gentle thumb rubbed patterns on my skin as he knelt on the bed, level with my throbbing heat. "Bunny's all wet f'me huh? D'you think I should help out?" I nodded furiously and bit my lip to hold in a whine at the teasing.

He chuckled darkly and slid his hands under my parted legs to hold them apart with strong hands before peppering kisses over the skin of my thighs, working closer and closer as he went. When the kisses reached where I wanted him most, he continued but avoided touching my clit. I whimpered as his grip tightened and he finally pressed his mouth to me, letting his tongue rub around my bundle of nerves. If it wasn't for his hands holding me down then I knew my hips would be pushing against his mouth as hard as I could. It didn't take long for him to get the idea of what I needed as his tongue finally met my clit, tracing circles into it. My legs tensed as a gasp escaped me, my eyes squeezing shut as a flash of long-awaited pleasure ran through me. I lifted my head and looked down at him, eyes meeting my Dom's as they sparkled.

"Daddy, please, need more." I felt breathless as he gave me just what I asked for, moving one of his hands to rub circles into my clit as his tongue thrust inside me with a groan. It didn't take long for the feeling to begin bubbling in my abdomen as he sped up, knowing by the way my body reacted that I wouldn't be able to last much longer. My breath got heavier as I moaned and gasped through the feeling, reaching my peak as he nipped at my clit. The world seemed to drown out as a much-needed feeling washed over me and I came, moaning and thrashing as he held me down and carried me through it.

"Shh shh, it's okay Bunny," He crooned, slowing his motions down before coming to a stop and pressing kisses to my trembling thighs. "That's daddy's good girl." The pet name made me feel warm and fuzzy as I drifted down from my peak, opening my eyes to find his amber eyes staring back at me. He licked his lips before running his hand over his mouth with a grin. "You really are delicious Bun."

I smiled and pulled him down towards me for a kiss, hands bunching into his jumper as his lips met mine. I pulled at it, letting him sit up to pull off the jumper and shirt so I could touch his bare chest, grinning at how warm he was. My fingers traced over his scars nonchalantly as they always did and he smiled down at me. I loved the feeling of the scars, they were a big turn-on for me, and him letting me touch them meant he trusted me, especially in such an intimate moment.

"Let's get you stretched out and I'll give you everything you want little one," I nodded softly and bit my lip as two of his fingers worked inside me, giving me enough to sigh in pleasure and relief but not satisfy me completely. "Good girl Bunny." The praise made the flush on my chest travel to my cheeks and a hazy smile made its way to my face.

"I wouldn't be doing that if I were you Moony," My moans were cut off by Sirius as he spoke up from the doorway. My eyes widened as I heard his voice and Remmy's thumb rubbed my hip to comfort me as he turned to meet Sirius' gaze. I could hear the smirk in his voice as he caught us.

"And why's that Pads?" His tone stayed neutral so he didn't tip the other male off that he knew what had happened. "She's my good girl and good girls deserve to feel good." The darker-haired male scoffed at the words, chuckling darkly as Remus rubbed his free hand on my thigh gently.

"Well, your good girl happens to be a rule breaker and apparently a liar Remus or didn't she tell you what she did?" Remus smiled down at me, hidden from Siri's gaze.

"Oh you mean about how she got up late and didn't go to a single lesson." Sirius nodded but gestured for him to continue to say there was more than just that. "And perhaps you mean about how she was taken into a side room with someone who just used her as a cumdump," My core clenched around his fingers at the words, "leaving her hurting and needy so she spent the day up here suffering and upset and so far in subspace that she thought cleaning herself up would be rule-breaking." Sirius' smug grin dropped as soon as he realised Remus knew and I couldn't help the slight smile on my face. "Or maybe you mean the part where you tricked her into thinking it wasn't rule-breaking because she was doing as you said, could possibly even be the part where you said you'd lie to me and say it was her idea." I knew Remus was unhappy and disappointed with his other sub by this point but his fingers didn't stop moving inside me, letting me feel him inside me as I let out soft whimpers and moans that broke through the tension. I almost cried out as the lycanthrope pulled his fingers out of me so he could stand, stalking toward Padfoot, but I swallowed it down because I was his good girl and didn't want to interrupt.

"Moony, I didn't mean for her to get hurt or upset." He began, "I saw her on the way to class and I couldn't help myself she was just so beautiful." My body flushed more at the unexpected compliment. "I just wanted to get a release is all." Remus shook his head in annoyance as he cornered the smaller boy with a dark grin.

"I don't care, you still did it even when you knew it wasn't allowed. And didn't you think that maybe Y/N wanted a release too rather than being used and left pent up with your cum still inside her for the day?" My body shivered at his words, my pussy clenched around the air. "Because that's how I found her. Crying on my pillow with your cum dribbling out of her. She missed out Pads, big time and now because of what you did you're gunna miss out too." As he spoke, Remmy pulled Sirius by the wrist over to one of the chairs and used wordless magic to bind him to it but not before removing his clothes with a spell.

"Moons, I didn't mean to, please don't make me sit here and -"

"I'm sorry, I didn't recall saying you had a choice or that you could speak did I?" His eyes glared into Siri's as he straightened himself out and began to strip off himself entirely. My mouth watered as he got entirely naked and I sat up slightly so I could watch the way his muscles shifted under his freckled skin. "I'm going to make her feel so good and you're going to watch and think about what you did and how you can make it up to her. And if she's not entirely satisfied then you'll have to do whatever she wants. Is that understood?" His voice was harsh and clipped as he walked back over to the bed, nodding in satisfaction when the tied-up boy agreed.

"Can I please have you now Daddy?" I begged, pulling his shoulders down as he came to kneel on the bed between my legs.

"Of course, you can Bunny." I smiled as he pulled me into a kiss, his tongue mingling with my own so the taste of my cum transferred into my mouth, leaving me moaning. My breath hitched in anticipation as Remus positioned himself at my entrance, using my cum as lubrication to push into my tight, throbbing heat. My grip on his shoulders tightened as he pushed into me as far as he could. A loud groan filled the room as the tip of his cock came to a stop against my cervix, unable to go any further; I never could fully fit him. Sirius' desperate moans faded into the background as my body jolted with short, sharp thrusts. I let my eyes meet his tear-filled grey ones as my own watered with pleasure and relief giving him an idea of what he could've had if only he'd played fair.

"Please Rem, it hurts," Siri whined as he tried to wiggle in his bands, hissing as the red, leaking tip of his cock rubbed against his stomach at the movement, eyes fluttering away from my face.

"That's a real shame Pads," The wolf growled sarcastically, gritting his teeth as I clenched around him, pulling him close to me. "Now you know how my Bunny felt." My walls fluttered as his thrusts sped up and I climbed towards my peak much quicker than I'd have liked. It didn't take long for him to find a specific spot along my velvet walls which made me see stars as a loud and almost pornographic moan ripped from my throat, making me gush around my Dom as I toppled over my peak and through my high. The way I tightened around him, had him moaning loudly and stuttering hips came to a stop as he buried as far into me as he could, thick ribbons of his cum coating my insides generously as he buried his face in my neck, biting down to leave his mark. He stifled his moans as they vibrated against my neck.

I raked my fingers through his hair as my vision came back into focus and listened to the sounds of his panting and last few moans. His head lifted slowly, letting his eyes fall on mine, before dipping to kiss me sweetly.

"Any better Bunny?"

"Much better, thank you, Daddy." I giggled as he pressed a kiss to the tip of my nose before pulling out slowly, hushing me as I whined at the feeling and overstimulation.

"D'you think we should let him help?" I hummed in thought for a moment before nodding up at him. "Okay Pads, you follow my every word or you go back on the chair." His curly hair bounced as he nodded vigorously. "You're going to kneel in between her legs and eat every last bit of my cum out of her, swallow it all, and then maybe I'll let you get some stimulation on you're selfish, needy cock." With a snap of his fingers, the binds fell away from the marauder's body and disappeared, allowing the boy to scramble over to the bed and straight to where Remmy said.

I worked through the sensitivity as his tongue began to lap at my pussy, ignoring how it quivered at the feeling. Large hands snaked around my thighs as he held my legs open for him so he could feast to his heart's content. I whined, feeling cum begin to slide out of me and down towards the bed sheets. Before it could get any further, Sirius' tongue licked a stripe from my ass upwards to catch it and swallow it down just as he'd been told to. Keening at the feeling, he buried his face into my pussy, suckling and slurping at me as my fingers curled into his hair and the bedsheets, loving how his fingers dug into my thighs. Small tears began to drip down my cheeks as the strength of my pleasure shook my thighs around his head. The sounds of his moans as he ate me out made my stomach clench in pleasure and anticipation and I found myself fighting to hold back the third orgasm of the day.

"Daddy," I gasped. "M'close again." A smile donned my Dom's face as he reached down to brush the hair from my face. My voice was barely a whisper as sobs of pleasure began to rack my body.

"Go ahead baby, cum on Padfoot's tongue."And with that, I let my body release what I'd been holding back, gasping my way through it. Though it was an amazing feeling, this was different from the others, more soothing because of the sensitivity and stimulation, leaving me feeling warm and fuzzy, like I was drifting. "That's it, good girl." His voice kept me grounded as I shuddered through the feeling, not being able to stop my trembling legs as he lapped at me, slower now. The subspace I had been suffering in earlier melted into a gentle and calm one that I had needed.

"Can't do anymore Daddy," I whimpered, fingers tightening in Sirius' curls as I tried to pull him away from my throbbing heat. "No more mouth, Daddy, tell 'im please." Remus chuckled and nodded at my request.

"Alright Pads, enough now." On cue, the mouth against me retracted and he came into view above me, a small grin but apologetic eyes as he hovered over me. He leaned down to kiss me softly and I reciprocated, enjoying his soft lips on my own. "Okay Bunny, One last time and then you can rest okay? I know we have you worked up but this will be last because he's been good and listened to me." I didn't have the strength to argue with him as my other Dom positioned my legs around his waist before pressing into me slowly. My back arched at the feeling, eyes rolling back and mouth open in a silent moan whilst the tears were wiped from my cheeks. His head fell into the crook of my neck as he thrust against me, having lost all of his composure from his punishment and eating what was left over from it. My eyes squeezed shut, my fingers scrambled against his back as he sped up, not being able to hold back as long as he'd like, my nails making crescent dents in his soft skin.

"Come on Poppet," He growled into my ear, with me whining in response. "One more, just one." His thrusts began to lose their rhythm as I clenched around him, eyes flowing with tears. "Cum for me Poppet." The way he moaned in my ear sent me over my final peak and I couldn't tell if the moan was loud or silent with how strong the feeling surged through me. I heaved for air as it was knocked out of my lungs, gripping onto whatever I could to try and stop the feeling of falling. It took what felt like a good while for me to come back to my senses.

"That's it Bunny, You're okay." The first feeling I could isolate was the way my legs trembled, aching from their spread position though there was nobody in between them anymore. My own broken breaths sounded in my ears as my heart thumped against my ribs. Gentle hands held my hair back from my face as my eyes fluttered behind their lids.

"Come on Poppet, come back to us." Sirius seemed to beg as he whispered to me, a large hand wiping the tears from my face as I came back down. I whined at the feeling of more cum slipping out of me and groaned as my eyes batted open and painfully lifted my aching legs to curl them to my side to stop the pain of being spread too long. "There she is." His grin looked relieved as he glanced down at me. The bed shifted beside me as Remus got up and returned from the bathroom with a warm, damp washcloth. My legs snapped shut around his hand as he started to clean up the mess that was left behind, hissing at the over-sensitive feeling that shocked my body.

"Now Bunny," The lycanthrope warned. "You have to let me clean you up. Can't leave you in this mess." Too exhausted to fight, I let him part my legs one more time and swipe, dab and clean away Sirius' cum and my own. All the while, I cried out in discomfort and slight pain but tried to focus on Sirius' gentle hand rubbing my stomach. It didn't take long for Remmy to finish his task but by the time he was stopping I weakly kicked his hands away, whimpering and welling up with more tears.

"No more, ouch Remmy, stop," I begged through tears, their faces blurring as Remus came to sit at the top of the bed with us. "Can't do it, hurts Rem, all done," I mumbled tiredly, making no sense but soothed by the covers that were pulled up over my body and the two boys that cuddled me and caressed my body sweetly whilst I floated.

"All done Bunny don't worry." A shivering exhale deflated my body, letting me relax bonelessly against the bed.

"Poppet," Sirius whispered, a hand running through my hair as my eyes met his own. "I'm sorry for what I did sweet girl, I won't ever hurt you like that again I swear. I'm sorry." I smiled softly at him and nodded, pulling him down for a gentle kiss to let him know he was forgiven.

"I think it's time you got some rest now though Bunny, Your body is exhausted and your head is too fuzzy so you need to sleep it off." Before Moony had finished talking, I was already drifting off. I finally fell asleep to the two protecting me and holding me to them like I was a prized possession.

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shadowdaddies · 3 months

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With Her Own Wings

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel's mate wishes that she could have wings like his, and goes to dangerous lengths to acquire them.

Based on this ask.💜

A/N: I had TOO much fun with this. One of my favorite fics I’ve written

warnings: kinda spooky, mentions of blood, allusions to sex

Azriel’s fingers laced through yours as the pair of you lazed through the quiet evening streets of Velaris. A sparrow soared across the watercolor horizon like a paintbrush against the canvas sky.

Azriel tracked your gaze, noting how it followed the bird. A small smile graced his lips, hazel eyes twinkling in the setting sun as his wings twitched behind him.

“I wish you knew what it feels like,” Azriel sighed, his eyes out of focus, as though he were imagining flying high above the city, rather than walking through it with you. It was a conversation you’d had repeatedly, his words echoing through your mind every time he took to the skies - how inadequate you were, bound to the ground.

Guilt panged your chest as you watched Azriel, his heart racing within his own chest at the mere thought of flying. But he was tied to a wingless mate. You were someone who brought him into your own cage instead of setting him free.

“You should go,” you nodded towards the warm-hued clouds in the distance. “Enjoy an evening flight. I can walk home,” you forced yourself to say, flashing him a practiced smile.

Azriel’s eyes lit up, wings flaring in reaction before he looked to you. His smile disappeared, wrenching your heart as his expression turned sympathetic. “No, love. I won’t leave you,” he whispered, his disappointment clear. “You could come with me. You know I like to fly with you in my arms as well,” he offered.

The ache in your chest was unbearable at this point. You knew Azriel loved to fly by himself, testing how fast he could soar, flipping and diving through the wind. All the things that made him feel free, at peace. All the things he couldn’t do with you in his arms.

Knowing that Azriel meant what he said - he wouldn’t leave you - you agreed to let him fly you up to the house. The air was crisp up high, the wind against your cheeks clearing your head of the worries it held. You sighed, sending a childish wish to the Mother that you too could fly, one day.

Azriel arose early the next day, waking you with a kiss goodbye as he set off for a mission. You laid in bed, watching his wings spread wide before jumping from the balcony, your heart straining as you watched your mate diminish into a spot on the horizon.

Thoughts began to spiral, and you kicked off the covers with an irritated huff as you forced yourself from bed, forced yourself from journeying further into your self-loathing. Trudging down the stairs, you turned into the kitchen to find an amused Cassian studying you.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he greeted, raising his cup to you in a mock-toast. Flipping him off, you pulled out a chair at the table, burying your head in your hands, feeling the press of your palms against your closed eyelids.

Cassian softened at your display, setting down his cup as he reached a hand, gently pulling your arm away. “What’s wrong? Tell me how I can help.”

Cassian’s hazel gaze was so genuinely tender, you felt the burden slightly lift as you looked at your friend. A wry chuckle left your lips, and you sighed, leaning back against the chair. “It’s nothing, Cass. Nothing to be done... Unless you know of a good wizard around here.”

His head tilted slightly, brows raised at your strange comment, but Cassian decided not to pry, instead going along with the joke. “Mmm, no wizards I’m afraid. If it’s a potion you’re looking for, maybe try the Weaver’s Cottage. I went in there with Az once now that it’s empty...”

The general’s head turned to see the intrigue on your face, suddenly alight with interest. “No,” he scolded, pointing a finger at you. “I know that look. I’m serious, don’t go there. That place has a darkness that will never go away,” he muttered, a shudder working through him at the recollection.

You rolled your eyes, giving your best effort at nonchalance as you scoffed. “Cass, I wouldn’t dream of it. I just wanted to hear more about what scared the might Lord of Bloodshed. Good to keep in mind,” you teased with a wink.

That appeared to satisfy Cassian, the male returning the gesture you’d given him earlier. Your friend mussed your hair, muttering about Azriel leaving him alone for training as he left you sitting at the counter, devious ideas eddying in your mind. With a smirk, you hopped up from your chair, headed upstairs to get dressed.

An hour later, you’d winnowed your way to the forest’s edge, a shallow tree line separating you from the clearing where the Weaver’s Cottage stood. Smoke no longer rose from the chimney and no light shone in the window. The dust and cobwebs weren’t new, but you slipped on your gloves, nose scrunched as you brushed away the silken strands that webbed the front porch steps.

Looking down, you watched the cobwebs shake from your hand, falling to the dusty deck when the door creaked open. Your breath hitched, eyes widening as you watched the door slowly open for you, a light flickering on across the room.

Swallowing thickly, you crept forward, breaths shallow as you crossed the threshold. Floorboards creaked beneath you, dust flying as a rat scurried across the top of your boots. With a squeal, you jumped back towards the door just to feel it close behind you.

The light on the far side of the room grew brighter, cluttered artifacts coming into view.

“So skittish for one that hopes to learn to fly,” a silken voice sounded from the dark. As your eyes adjusted to the lack of light, you saw the blurry outline of a female, the edges of her form hazy and semi-translucent.

Keeping a hand on the dagger sheathed at your thigh, you crossed further into the room, curiosity winning over your better senses at the sight of spell books and herbs lining her table. “Who are you?” you questioned, voice wavering more than you would have liked.

A cackle left her lips, the young woman twirling long black hair through her iridescent fingertips. “There’s that boldness I was expecting. You aught to be more careful dearest, about entering someone’s home uninvited. They say that curiosity killed the cat - imagine what it would do to a little bird like you.”

Your heart thundered in your chest as the realization dawned on you. This witch knew that you were coming, and she had prepared for you. “I didn’t expect anyone to live here. I had been told the home was empty,” you admitted, hoping to quell any offense she might have taken to your invasion.

A scratchy hum sounded from her chest, amusement flickering in green glowing eyes as you shifted on your feet. “It clearly is not empty,” she drawled, moving her hands in a flourish as she gestured to the hoards of both trinkets and treasure that enveloped the space. “I do hope that you don’t rush into all of your decisions the way you rushed in here, dearest, or you may not like what the future holds.”

You opened your mouth to ask her to elaborate when she stood abruptly, gliding across the floor to the table laden with books and herbs, and one singular vial of liquid that she held in her long, nimble fingers. You could see the purple potion through her hand, its contents shimmering in the dim light, drawing you closer.

“Ah, ah,” she crooned at you, lips spreading into a wide, wicked smile that revealed rotted teeth. Just as your gaze flicked to the bone, it turned to a pearly white, as dazzling and unsettling as the rest of her appearance. “Such a foolish girl. So easily drawn to the potion she seeks. But have you not considered the price to pay?”

Your mouth was watering, vision only able to focus on the vial in her hands. You barely processed her words, eyes still glued to the bottle as you murmured, “a payment? What do you want?”

You didn’t see the sly grin of the witch, a spider who’d caught a fly in her web. “What will I take? I would just like a little lock of your hair. As for what the wings will take, it matters what you are willing to give.”

You didn’t hesitate, dazed as the potion swirled in front of you. Thirsty, you were so thirsty. “I will give whatever it takes to make my mate happy,” you breathed.

“Very well then,” she snapped, handing you the vial. Her cold arm swept through your skin, sending a chill down your spine as she pulled away. You heard a snip as she cut your hair, and you eagerly uncorked the vial, downing the contents in one go.

The moment you finished drinking, clarity returned to your senses. That was too easy. What could she want from you, truly? You turned to ask, but words couldn’t form in your mouth, vision began to fade as colors grew more vibrant. The witch leaned in, ice-cold hands tucking a parchment into your palm.

“To give you a fighting chance. Go now, pet. You don’t have long,” she whispered, a high-pitched cackle echoing in your mind as you stumbled towards the door. You fell to your knees, crawling on weak limbs towards the entrance. “Oh, little bird. So naive,” she cooed, just as the door burst open.

The light burned your eyes, the outline of an Illyrian standing tall in the doorway the last thing that you saw, cedar the last that you smelled before you awoke again.

Eyes fluttered open to find yourself in your room, Azriel hunched in a chair next to you as he pored over a parchment in his hand. A shadow curled his ear, and hazel eyes flicked to you.

“My head hurts,” you grumbled, hand reaching up to try to stop the pounding against your skull.

“You are lucky that’s all that hurts,” Azriel said, hurt of his own flashing across his expression.

“You are mad.” You stated. It felt dumb to say, but you couldn’t stop yourself. “You look very handsome, even when you are angry. I love you and I don’t want you to be mad.” The words continued to spew, Azriel’s expression changing from shocked to appraising as you spoke.

He looked down at the parchment. “I guess that is the truth part,” he sighed, running a hand through his onyx waves.

“What truth part? What are you reading? I want to see it. I don’t like when you keep things from me,” you babbled.

Azriel’s nostrils flared, his hands clenching at your words. “You don’t like it when I keep things from you? What the Hel is this?” He thrust the parchment at you, and you read:

The wings that you seek will be yours to keep,

But beware as follows, for nothing comes free:

For one to paint the sky as the winged might fly,

From them new colors will bloom like a light in fog’s gloom.

To truly grow wings, be true to oneself.

Truths may be drawn easily, like books from a shelf.

If one wishes to fly, they shall see from bird’s eye.

But prepare for a scare as you float through the air.

So long as one can endure the challenges that be,

Their wings shall grow freely, they will branch like a tree.

Your cheeks turned red, memories from the cottage flooding back to you.

“Well, what is it?” Azriel demanded.

You bit your tongue until the metallic taste of blood coated your mouth, but the words forced their way out. “I want wings. Cassian said the Weaver might have something to help and I knew that it was stupid but I went and then this witch gave me a potion to help me grow wings. Please don’t be mad, I can’t bear upsetting you anymore,” you pled, salty tears falling down your cheeks.

Azriel’s featured softened, a scarred hand coming to cup your face as he kissed the tears away. “Hey, my love. It’s alright. I am glad that you are safe. But why would you do this? Why do you want wings?”

You sniffled, holding his hand against your cheek as you leaned into his comforting warmth. “I see how disappointed you are, that I can’t fly with you. I see how happy you are when you are flying. You always said that you wish I knew what it feels like, and I’m tired, Azriel. Tired of weighing you down. I want to lift you up,” you admitted, the corners of your eyes stinging from crying.

“You do not bring me down. You keep me grounded. And you lift me to new heights - you challenge me in new ways, you bring me more joy than I have ever felt. You are perfect as you are,” Azriel promised, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You sighed, looking down at the parchment as you noticed your skin begin to change color, turning a ghostly white. “Well, as I am seems to be changing, so I hope you mean that,” you said, holding up your hand to show Azriel as the skin turned as translucent as the witch’s.

Starting at your fingertips, the skin turned pink, then orange, followed by yellow and purple. It was as though the sky was being painted across your body, your skin turning watercolor shades of sunset.

You turned to Azriel in horror, only to see him biting back laughter. At his expression, you couldn’t fight the smile that appeared on your lips, and Azriel followed it belly-aching laughter, bent over the bed as he turned red in the face.

“Well, that would be the ‘For one to paint the sky as the winged might fly, from them new colors will bloom like a light in fog’s gloom’ it seems. Very pretty, I must say,” he purred, bringing your purple hand to his lips as he pressed hot kisses to your skin.

“Oh Cauldron, what else will that witch put me through?” you huffed out loud, collapsing back onto the pillows. Something jabbed your shoulders, and you hissed as you turned to the mattress to find the offender, but nothing was there.

You took in Azriel’s expression. His jaw hung open, the Illyrian warrior frozen in shock as he stared at you. Finally, he brought a hand to your back, and you gasped at the feeling. He was touching you, but it felt like something attached to your shoulder, sensitive as his fingers traced it before stopping at the fabric of your nightgown.

“Az, is it...?” you couldn’t manage the words. Azriel simply nodded, too stunned to speak. “I guess I’m growing wings,” you said, and you couldn’t stop the excited giggle that escaped you at the proclamation.

Your mate gave you a soft smile, hazel eyes twinkling in appreciation of your joy. Your stomach rumbled, skin changing back to its normal hue as you swung your legs over the side of the bed.

“Let’s go get you some food,” Azriel murmured, draping an arm around your waist as you ventured down to the kitchen. No sooner had you sat down than Cassian stumbled through the door, gaping at the wings growing on your back.

“Oh my gods, you did it,” he breathed. His brow furrowed, mouth turned down as he practically ran towards you. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he mumbled into your shoulder. “You are okay, right?”

You bit your lip, turning to Azriel who was still laughing as he focused his attention on the stove. “It seems as though the worst has pass-“

No sooner had the words left your lips than you began to ascend in the air. Like a puppet on a string, you were pulled up by an invisible force as you looked down at Cassian and Azriel from where you were caught against the ceiling.

“Well, that’s interesting,” Cassian murmured, the smirk on his lips disappearing as Azriel smacked the back of his head. You looked down, panicking as you yanked the fabric of your nightgown to cover as much as you were able.

Azriel groaned, removing his shirt as he tossed it up to you, the clothing longer than your dress when you put it on.

“We forgot about the ‘If one wishes to fly, they shall see from bird’s eye. But prepare for a scare as you float through the air.’” Azriel mumbled, rubbing his temples as he and Cassian looked up at you.

“How are you going to make that work for dinner and drinks at Rita’s later?” Cassian mused, arching a smug brow at you.

Your heart leapt into your throat as you realized that tonight was family dinner, and you were going to Rita’s to celebrate Mor and Emerie’s anniversary. “It shouldn’t last that long,” Azriel answered resolutely, drawing you from your thoughts.

You nodded down at him in agreement, some relief washing over you as you realized that you still had hours until you needed to leave.

“Do you think you could help me get down from here?” You asked, groaning as your head thunked against the ceiling for the third time.

“I have an idea,” Cassian muttered, turning on his heel as he went back through the door towards the training ring. He returned moments later, rope in hand, as he tossed an end up to you. “Tie that to your ankle,” he instructed you. You followed his orders, letting out a surprised yelp when he tugged you back down to where you were almost to the ground.

The general bent down, looping the rope around Azriel’s ankle when Az stopped him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“If I tie your ankles together, then she won’t float away,” Cassian answered, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Azriel sighed, waving his hand resignedly for Cassian to continue.

The half of your body that was tied to Azriel remained grounded, the other half slipping upwards consistently, awkwardly pushing you into your mate’s body.

“We can make this work for a little while, right?” you looked to Azriel.

A small laugh left him, the shadowsinger shaking his head as he pressed a kiss to yours. “Like I said, I am with you. No matter what color you are, or how much you try to float away.”

Hours passed, Azriel sitting with his legs crossed awkwardly on top of yours to keep you seated on the couch. Your back itched and ached from the wings that were growing shockingly quickly, the size of an Illyrian child’s at this point.

Azriel looked pointedly at you, saying the words you knew were coming. “We have to get ready for dinner.”

Half an hour later, you found yourself hobbling down the streets of Velaris, ankle bound to Azriel’s as Cassian snickered at your other side, holding you down.

“This is humiliating,” you grumbled, your fledgling wings twitching in anger behind you as the Illyrians kept you looped through their arms.

“I think the punishment fits the crime,” Cassian retorted breezily, wincing as your elbow met his ribs.

“I didn’t commit any crime,” Azriel muttered, his cheeks turning bright red as you arrived in front of the restaurant. The rest of your family was already seated, their faces in various stages of shock and amusement as they took in the sight before them.

“What the Hel did you do, girl?” Amren questioned, sipping her wine as she eyed the wings on your back. You told them the embarrassing tale, knowing that you would never live this down, but had already concluded that this was worth it.

Azriel held you tight, his body pressed firmly against yours as you danced at Rita’s. Through the evening, he discovered the preferred way of keeping you grounded was by holding you flush to his chest, which the two of you had fun with when you got home that night.

You woke the next morning with Azriel’s wing draped across you, and you smiled before opening your eyes to see Azriel was asleep on the other side of the bed, his wings draped across himself. You startled, gasping as you sat up in bed, a slight new weight on your back sending you flopping into the mattress.

Azriel mumbled sleepily as he awoke, rubbing his eyes as he turned to you. Your mate choked on his words, eyes bulging as he took in the sight of your wings, larger than his as they spanned the entire length of the bed.

“Oh, my gods,” he gasped, his hand instinctively reaching out to feel the thin membrane that was now apart of you.

A small gasp left your lips, followed by a moan at the pleasurable feeling. “Cauldron, I know why you wished I had these now,” you whispered, dizzy from pleasure as you grinned up at Azriel.

He chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. “Good morning. How do some flying lessons sound?”

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tumbleweed-run · 7 months

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Puppet On a String

(18+, Explicit) Kinktober 2023 Day 14 Selfcest/Cloning

“He’s a bit like a doll,” Gale said looking over at you.

You were focused on him, well another him.

“ A puppet?” You offered, hand straying to the necklace you wore.

Real Gale’s head cocked to the side in consideration before giving a short nod. “Yes, I suppose so.”

The puppet just stood there in the center of your bedroom and blinked. You hadn’t activated control yet so this very accurate puppet Gale was more or less a lifeless toy.

You’d met a version of him back in the Shadowlands, one that beckoned you to a clearing and to Gale. It had piqued your interest that night, he’d been corporeal in a way that most mirror images weren’t. But you’d forgotten about him for some time, other things taking precedence.

After about the tenth question regarding this puppet, Gale had offered to create him. It was more than an incantation, something requiring numerous ingredients to create the shell. You could now appreciate the work Gale had put into him while on the road, all an effort to make that night special.

The form wasn’t permanent, Gale assumed he’d last about a day unless dismissed. He also couldn’t withstand much in the way of damage, that didn’t matter tonight. Because as soon as Gale had offered to recreate him your mind had turned down a far less academic road. Which Gale had, of course, realized.

What he didn’t realize was that the reason you wanted to control the puppet was for a far more depraved reason than desiring a two-person threesome. You’d get to that.

“He’s very accurate,” you mused taking the time to appreciate that little fact.

The puppet was conjured naked (which explained why he’d worn Gale’s armor that night) and was very accurate in all ways. Gale seemed amused by your reaction. He was also the only one in the room with any clothes on. You’d stripped and climbed onto the bed not long after the puppet was made.

“So I just repeat the incantation and I’ll be in control of him?” You wanted to be certain.

“One must think in directives but yes,” Gale agreed, but he paused, “Are you sure you don’t wish me to control it?”

You shook your head, “I’m very certain of what I want.”

Your wizard had the sense of mind to look concerned.

You repeated the incantation as Gale had taught you and almost immediately you felt the link. It was not unlike the link the tadpoles had formed between you and the others, this felt more like being linked to emptiness.

All you had to think was about walking and he did. You were impressed, you’d assumed it would be clumsy like other magical creations but he did a very passable job of imitating Gale. Or maybe that was because your mind had given the puppet that knowledge. It was a strange thought and one you didn’t wish to focus on right now.

The puppet came to a stop before Gale once more.

“Shall we start?” Gale asked looking to you.

You nodded but the puppet didn’t move.

Gale glanced between the two of you for a moment. “Dear, what exactly did you have in mind?” His voice had risen.

You did your very best to adapt a wide-eyed pleading look, which was admittedly difficult given how turned on you were getting. With great joy you realized the puppet was doing the same. “I was thinking,” you drawled, “I could watch.”

Gale swallowed harshly. You didn’t know how to read the flush crawling across his skin, he didn’t seem angry though.

“Do you really think me that conceited?” He asked sounding offended.

Immediately, you shook your head. “No, it’s not you,” you reminded him rising up on your knees, about to go to him, “It’s me, I control him. So it would just be us, like normal.”

“This is very not normal,” Gale asserted.

“Is it really any different than when you pleasure yourself?”

“Yes.” Gale was very firm in that belief apparently.

You pouted. “I want to watch you fuck yourself,” you did your best to make it sound like the most normal request.

Gale froze and you breathed.

“If I say yes,” he began.

“Oh please,” you begged.

“If I say yes, you cannot breathe a word to anyone.”

“I will keep this locked in my head forever,” you promised.

Vaguely, you realized Gale was giving in rather quickly. Too quickly. It occurred to you, not for the first time, that this may not be the first time he’d considered fucking himself with this puppet. Or maybe it hadn’t been him those other times, maybe he’d created puppets of someone else.

Either way, his quick consideration left you with a million questions.

“He doesn’t feel,” Gale reminded you, “I had considered trying to find a way to give sensation feedback to the controller, but I haven’t gotten there yet.”

Now you were certain he’d at least considered this.

“He can speak though,” He continued unaware you were on to him, “try.”

You drew on the experience from your former parasite.

“Hello.” The puppet spoke.

“Oh,” you said breathlessly, “I can do a lot with this.”

Gale, again, had the sense of mind to appear a bit alarmed by your reactions. You grinned at him, wickedly.

The puppet reached forward and place a hand on Gale’s hip, fingers holding on loosely to the material of his shirt that hung there.

“Are you sure?” The puppet spoke.

Gale was enraptured by the puppet now, eyes skating over its form. Then he nodded, licking his lips as he did. You smiled, and the puppet did as well. Wizards and their egos.

Gale was unusually passive as the puppet removed his shirt. Not resistant just not participating as you’d hoped.

“Touch me,” the puppet said, and delighted you realized his intonation changed at your whim.

Gale’s eyes dashed to yours. You pouted rather dramatically, very careful to not transfer this to the puppet. Gale reached out and resting his hand against the puppet’s chest. It wasn’t much, but it was certainly enough for you to continue. He was pliant as the puppet pulled down his pants, instead of letting them fall to the floor he knelt, guiding them the whole way.

Gale’s brain may have been unsure, but already his cock was interested.

The puppet remained kneeling, though he braced his hands on Gale’s thighs, looking up at him.

Your breath was stolen for a moment, immensely distracted by the tableau in front of you.

Slowly, giving Gale all the time in the world to back out, the puppet leaned towards his cock. When Gale didn’t object, the puppet pulled him into it’s mouth. Gale moaned, his head dropping back. This part would be a little tricky, you realized, normally, this was done by sensation. Not knowledge.

“I need you to help here,” you warned him, “don’t hold back.”

Gale nodded, Adam’s apple bobbing as he did.

The puppet began working it’s tongue. Gale moaned, a hand immediately coming up to thread through it’s hair. His hair.

You drew on every memory where you’d been in the puppet’s place. It seemed enough because Gale was moaning freely. The brief glimpses you caught of his cock when the puppet pulled back confirmed he was completely hard now.

“This is very, very wrong,” Gale groaned, in contrast to his words though, his grip in the puppet’s hair had tightened.

You saw an opportunity.

The puppet pulled back. “Fuck my mouth?” it pleaded, turning overly familiar puppy dog eyes upwards.

Gale looked down, eyes blown wide before looking to you. “Is that… is that how I sound?” he was torn between the two of you.

You laughed, “yes and no. But,” you supplied helpfully, “that is how you look.”

Gale swore but gripped his cock. He led it back to the puppet who eagerly swallowed it down. Both of Gale’s hand went to it’s hair though he paused. You worked hard to remember the feeling of your own throat when you went pliant below someone. Subconsciously your own muscles did just that. It worked, it seemed, because Gale slowly began thrusting into the puppet’s mouth.

As you watched Gale fuck his own mouth, you slid your hand between your thighs. Unsurprisingly, you were wet, you had been just at the idea of this little venture. But to see it actually come to life was lighting things within you that could not be normal.

You’d never been normal.

Gingerly you began rubbing your clit, careful not to lose focus on the puppet’s controls. You moaned, and then the puppet did. Gale followed, enjoying whatever sensation the sound had brought on. He was fucking into the puppet’s mouth far rougher than he’d ever dared to do to yours.

You rolled your flattened tongue, imagining the weight of Gale’s cock on it. Gale cursed under his breath, hips slamming into it in a way that would have damaged a real person.

You were thrilled to see him this uncontrolled.

“I dont…” Gale began, and immediately, the puppet stopped it’s ministrations with it’s mouth. “I don’t want to come in his mouth,” Gale continued after taking a moment to catch his breath.

“Do you want to fuck me, or him?” You asked breathlessly.

“You, always,” Gale answered pulling away from the puppet.

Quickly, you straightened your legs, and then he was there. Gale’s fingers found your center before he’d even gotten onto the bed. One digit immediately slid into you.

“You’re so wet,” He said sliding his finger in and out of you, you whined, falling back onto your elbows. “There is so much wrong with us,” Gale said softly before adding a second finger.

You smiled, happy he hadn’t singled you out in the wrongness of this situation. Instead, it was the two of you together, as it would always be. You moved the puppet behind him, taking care for it to walk noisily so as not to take Gale off guard.

“Oil on his fingers,” you directed, the puppet lifted it’s hand.

Gale pivoted slightly and then there was as sheen across the puppet’s fingers, dripping down it’s palm.

“You inside me first” you directed breathlessly.

Gale grabbed your hips and dragged you further down the bed. In the same motion, he slid into you. You moaned. Locking your legs around Gale’s thigh you shook your head in an effort to focus. The puppet inched forward a little and when Gale’s head dropped down into your shoulder you knew you’d been successful.

For a beat the slick sounds in the room came from only the puppet as he worked his oiled finger into Gale. You felt when he hit home, Gale’s cock twitching inside you. A short time later Gale began to move inside you finally. Almost immediately he was fucking you hard, no doubt slamming his hips back onto the puppet’s fingers.

You moaned at the thought, desperately wishing you could see. Gradually it became difficult to focus both on the puppet and your own arousal building as Gale fucked into you.

“Fuck,” You moaned, hand gripping his shoulder as your head fell back onto the bed, “I can’t keep-”

Whatever else you wanted to say was lost as Gale grabbed your leg to pull it up, thrusting into you deeper now.

“Let go,” Gale ground out through his teeth.

And you did. You came with a yell hips snapping up to meet Gale’s. He followed not long after, spilling into you with a groan, head buried into your shoulder.

As you came back to yourself, you moved the puppet away. Gale keened into your skin as the puppet pulled his fingers from him. You reached up and pulled the necklace from around your neck, it dragged through your sweat-slick skin.

“I would not be opposed to doing that again,” you said breathily.

Gale, the real one, groaned.

#Gale x reader #Gale x tav #Gale x Gale #???????#selfcest #kinktober 2023 #I will not be held accountable for this work #hahaha this is probably some of the weirdest shit I've written #sorry it's so late I've been sitting in the rain at soccer games all day #only to come how and write this offense to the gods

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nanamimizz · 6 months

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tags: written for @prettyboykatsuki in mind. reader is gn, and is a rouge with a thief/street urchin background. marriage and discussion of children. takes place in act 3, spoilers for wyll’s personal quest. discussion of marriage. fluff.

synopsis: you overhear wyll bragging to the children. at first you think nothing of it until you hear him say somethings you weren’t privy to.

Wyll is good with children, a truth not doubted but known ever since you had met the fabled folk hero in the Emerald Grove. It’s something you hardly do not think of, if you don’t want to end up in some sort of frenzy of thoughts better left unsaid. At least for the chapter of life you two are currently in. Maybe, you think as you clutch the wishing acorn the love of your life had gifted you in the palm of your hand, maybe when all this is over you could discuss such things as a family with him. When Wyll is free of Mizora’s hands completely, when his father is safe from all plots and schemes and when the little friend in your head has been cast out - yes, you think, you would like to utter the words of a family to Wyll’s ever so kind ear.

Unlike you however, your intended is not as patient as you can hear him bragging to the tiefling children you have both met and saved in your travels to Baldur’s Gate. It makes you chuff, like a pleased tiger and shake your head oh so fondly as he utters tales of your adventures. As you draw near you can make out the words - he’s telling the tales of defeating the goblin camp leaders. The adventure feels like a lifetime ago but not the phantom ache of the knot on your head you sustained from Dror Ragzlin knocking you well and good on the head.

You hear one of the kids, Mattis with his shaggy dark hair and mischievous eyes that glitter like the gold he covets with his not-so-lucky rings.

“Looks like you don’t do much now, do you Blade of Frontiers?” Mattis mocks, snickering behind his red hand. Wyll laughs good-naturedly, letting the teasing roll off his back smoothly like water off a duck’s wing. It’s something you envy, how Wyll is never riled up by such empty words. Mattis pouts, petulant as he throws another half baked insult at the man.

“And what’s with you letting your allies take such a beating - first Karlach now this? Having a hard time picturing what good you are for Blade?” Wyll huffs a chuckle, a smug smile tugging at his full lips and you stare a little too deeply at how white his teeth are in the afternoon sun.

“Things are different now you see - I have another story for you…” Wyll continues on with the tale of where you fought off Roah Moonglow, a Zhentarim trader who stole all the gold in the common’s people’s coffers; there had been a fatal mistake that you had made and Wyll had saved you at the perfect time. Even had a second to spare to throw in a witty comeback and a brilliant smile your way before the fight continued. Mattis’s face scowled as even he had to admit that the story succeeded in making the Blade appear just as cool as you and Karlach.

If barely.

“So what’s different now? Did you finally know how to hold your own in a fight?” Mattis pouts, conceding that maybe the Blade of Frontiers was more cool than dorky. Wyll grins, brilliant teeth on display at the apple of his cheeks raised.

“I’m their husband now. No one can ever hurt them while I’m around.”

Scratch that. The Blade of Frontiers will forever be corny in the eyes of these tiefling children for as long as you and Karlach live - they even think that know-it-all wizard that hangs around you is cool by default. The children all gag, making their sounds of disgust with Mattis being the loudest of them all. They are quick to disperse, going off to do what children do best in the times they live in and you approach Wyll as they leave.

“Calling yourself my husband now are we? It’s been less than a tenday since you asked me to be yours. Unless we’ve had a ceremony within the same amount of time - I think it’s a little too soon to call you such a revered title.”

Wyll jumps at the sound of your voice, your quiet steps always managing to go under his senses. It makes you laugh a little, how the smallest testaments of your background manage to slip past the hero’s defenses. You watch with adoring eyes as Wyll flushes with a warmth that makes him shine in the daylight as he brings a hand to rub at the back of his neck from embarrassment.

“Please - don’t tell me you heard all of that?”

“Oh yes I did. Every word in fact.”

Wyll hisses in embarrassment, and even then he doesn’t hesitate to look back into your eyes when you gently run your hand on his arm.

“Do you mean that - that nothing can hurt me while you are with me?” You ask your voice soft with tentativeness. He softens, gaze going from embarrassment to an eager honesty simmered with so much affection you neve once thought you would be looked at with. Wyll is a smart man, perspective and he knows what it is you ask - the battles that you have yet to face but will have to as fate decrees; its golden thread dictating every action and word that is to be spoken.

Wyll takes the hand on his arm into his and gazes at you, the brown of his eyes turning golden under the warmth of his words.

“Yes, truly. I may be the Blade of Frontiers sworn to protect the Sword Coast but,” he pauses to lick his lips as if tasting the sweetness of his confession before uttering it to you, “I am first and foremost a blade sworn to you. So whenever our enemies are drawn near, don’t hesitate to point me their way.”

The devotion is heavy in each word spoken, something you had never been witness to - loyalty and devotion only gets you killed in the streets. So it takes you a moment to collect yourself, to pick yourself off the floor from the weight of the goodness Wyll holds for you. You swallow before speaking, your voice thick.

“You already asked me to marry you - you don’t need to lay it on thick.” You say, trying to deflect but Wyll only smiles, eyes fond and gently as he lets his thumb caress the top of your hand.

“I know, I can’t help but be sweet to you. And I swear to the Helm I’ll live up to my word everyday.”

You smile, lacing your fingers with his.

“I’ll hold it to you Lord Ravengard.”

“I hope to exceed all expectations.” His smile is smig but his words are warm - lovinging and truthful. Just as Wyll always is.

#lamb.writes #wyll ravengard x reader #wyll x reader #bg3 x reader #baldur’s gate 3 x reader #tav x wyll #wyll x tav

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flippyspoon · 5 months

Text

The Drunk Dial

Note: SNW Spirk ficlet :D (about 1k words)

Jim Kirk could not quite believe what he had just seen.

From the less than cozy chair behind his desk, he sat stunned.

This couldn’t be real, he thought.

Unless?

But he tapped his comm. Due diligence and all.

“Commander Kirk to Lieutenant Boyer. Hey Jerry, I received a video message from the Enterprise. Can you verify authenticity for me? I’m sending over the data signature now.”

“Hi, Jim. Sure. Lemme just give it a looksee… Uh, yep. Authenticated. USS Enterprise. From Lieutenant Spock. Oh cool. He’s that half Vulcan science division wizard, right?”

“Yyyyep. Huh. So there’s no…interference on that? Nothing suspicious?”

“You have reason to suspect something, Jim?”

“Um… Well, no. I was just surprised by the content of the message. Thought maybe someone was trying to have some fun with me.”

“Looks good to me. Just an ordinary comm.”

“Cool cool. Okay. Thanks, Jerry.”

Kirk sat back and rubbed a hand over his face. On his computer screen, the message sat paused, having looped to the very beginning after he’d played it twice over already.

Lieutenant Spock was frozen, staring back at him with a crooked little smile on his face, one eyebrow raised. But his eyes were just a little two heavy lidded. His hair just a little tousled and not the immaculate Vulcan coiffure Kirk had gotten used to seeing while visiting the Enterprise.

He was also out of his science blues. Spock was wearing a tight black t-shirt instead, stretched over his broad chest.

In short, Spock looked extraordinarily hot. Even for Spock.

He also looked drunk as hell.

The message was not coming from his quarters. Kirk recognized the tables behind Spock from the Port Galley.

Kirk licked his lips and tapped play for the third time.

“Commander Kirk,” Spock said slowly. “Greetings. Hello. Hi. I am sending you this message due to…a… having lost a wager. With Lieutenant Ortegas. Whose birthday it is.” From offscreen, Jim heard Erica Ortegas hoot and a hand blurred by the edge of the screen. “Today,” Spock continued. “Is her birthday. Which we are celebrating. Which is the reason for… That is…” Spock swallowed and held up a half-empty box of chocolates. “Cause for celebration chocolate. Which is inebriating for Vulcans. Such as myself.”

“Tell him about the bet!” Nurse Chapel’s face appeared onscreen as she leaned down to Spock, giggling, until Erica wrapped an arm around her waist and yanked her away again and she shrieked a laugh.

“The bet. Yes.” Spock nodded as if his head were on a spring. “The bet concerned whether or not I could…what is it called-”

“Deepthroat!” Erica yelled from offscreen.

“Deepthroat a Terran banana,” Spock said, nodding again. “Which I am able to do.”

Kirk chewed on his lip.

“You’re supposed to tell him about the bet you lost, genius. But also yes, good job telling him that. Good info to have.” Chapel had appeared again, breathless and pushing her sweaty hair back. She looked into the camera and rolled her eyes before disappearing.

“Yes. The bet I lost concerned whether I could fit sixty Terran marshmallows in my mouth while reciting the words ‘chubby bunny.’ A most inane and illogical test of stamina.”

Erica returned, this time crouching behind Spock and throwing an arm around him. She looked just as inebriated as he was, though far more obviously gleeful. She was also wearing a neon green feather boa around her neck.

“But it was so cute to watch!” Erica said. She looked into the camera, meeting Jim’s eyes. “I’m sure you would have agreed, Commander Kirk. You think Spock’s cute, right?” She smirked at him and he winced.

He had, in fact, told Erica Ortegas all his thoughts on Spock when they had bumped into each other on shore leave.

He’d told her at length.

“I am still at a loss,” Spock said, his brows turning down comically and his lips forming a pout, “as to the purpose of this communication.” He frowned at the box of chocolates and picked out a truffle topped with a mocha mousse.

“The purpose,” Erica said, grinning lasciviously, “was for you to tell Commander Kirk that you enjoyed playing chess with him.”

“That is true,” Spock mumbled. He was doing the nodding thing again as he held the uneaten chocolate in his hand.

She stage whispered to Kirk, “He talks about you all the tiiiime.” She cleared her throat and went on, “And that you very much look forward to next week when the Enterprise and Farragut dock at Starbase Seven.”

“That is also true,” Spock said.

Spock took a bite of the chocolate. He chewed and swallowed and when he looked into the camera at Jim and wrapped his lips around his chocolatey fingers to suck off the slightly melted dregs, Jim groaned.

“It occurs to me,” Spock said, licking his lips, “that this is not an appropriate message to-”

“SSSSHHHH!” Erica squeezed his shoulder. “Jim’s cool! We got hammered on Risa a couple months ago! I know all his secrets!”

“Erica! Karaoke time!” Chapel shouted offscreen. “We’re gonna do ‘Love Shack!’”

Erica leapt up and Spock blinked into the camera. “I am told I must not miss ‘Love Shack.’ So uh… I will see you at Starbase Seven, Commander Kirk. These chocolates are excellent. Spock out.”

Kirk had been smiling so hard his mouth ached.

He stood up, took off his shirt, and headed to his bed to jerk off.

***

Spock woke up fully clothed atop his bed, his booted feet hanging off the end.

Immediately, he recalled everything.

“Oh,” Spock muttered. “No.”

With a groan, he pushed himself up to his feet, rubbing his temples. He could not deny that Erica’s birthday parties somehow always ended up engaging him more than most social events on the Enterprise.

And somehow, he always ended up doing something terribly embarrassing.

But this was certainly his first drunken dial.

And to Commander Kirk!

His computer kept pinging.

He trudged to the synthesizer and made himself a cup of tea, very strong and very hot.

In the privacy of his own quarters, he slumped in the chair at his desk, glowering at the computer screen and the blinking notification next to the name: CMDR. JAMES T. KIRK.

It was true, he had so far been friendly with Kirk. But this…

Egregiously unprofessional. Inappropriate.

Spock shut his eyes, mouth collapsing into a crooked grimace.

“Ugh.”

Nothing to do but, as Pike liked to say, “face the music.”

Which would probably be The B-52s if Erica and Christine had anything to say about it.

Spock clicked the message and pressed play.

Kirk looked utterly poised and dashing like he always did.

“Hi there, Mr. Spock.” A sly smile spread across Kirk’s face. “Ah, I just wanted to say I really enjoyed your message.” His gaze glittered, fixed on Spock as if actually seeing him live, and also as if he were physically stripping Spock of his clothes. “And I too am truly looking forward to the Enterprise and the Farragut both docking at Starbase Seven next week. So…” Kirk bit his lip and his voice dropped a few octaves when he said, “I guess I’ll see you then. Kirk out.”

The message ended and Spock just stared.

Somehow, Jim Kirk’s brief and completely professional message sounded to Spock like an impressively erotic performance and Spock was certain that had been the intent.

Alright. He was clearly not in trouble-trouble. He was in a whole different kind of trouble.

Spock stood, stripped off his shirt, and headed back to bed to jerk off.

#spirk #k/s #kirk/spock

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the-marsh-harrier · 6 months

Text

Who was Orion Black? (Pt 9) Orion Black x Female!Reader

A/N: I wanted to explore Sirius’s childhood more in a non-traditional sense and give Orion and Walburga some interesting character development. This takes place after Sirius has broken out of Azkaban. Although this is a reader insert in parts, it is not the main focus and some chapters will have little or no mention of the reader. I have also altered the year Walburga was born to be 1940 instead of 1925 as it states in cannon (this is my fanfic and I’ll do what I want with the characters that are in it). Similarly, remember everyone is entitled to portray fictional characters as they want in their fanfics and if you disagree, please write your own. JKR's bigotry and opinions are not welcome here nor supported.

Masterlist Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 (Part 9)

The Portrait

When Sirius found himself in the study, he couldn’t stop the overwhelming emotions that hit him. He wasn’t ready to feel that. He needed a distraction… and right now, that distraction took the form of that forsaken pointless empty chair portrait. There was something behind that. Even if there wasn’t, Sirius needed to think there was to not have to think about Y/N and how different his life could’ve been if she hadn’t died. Sirius spent hours staring at that portrait of the chair in his father’s office. He’d tried revealing charms, but it didn’t work. Anything he tried to get whatever secret it was holding out into the open, didn’t work. Nothing worked!

So here he was, sat in the same place Orion had spent most of his days – at that piano. His legs bounced with frustration, his forearms rested on the lid of the piano and his lips pursed in thought – Sirius knew there was more to this painting than it appeared. Orion was a clever wizard, any magic he placed on this painting was going to be difficult to break. With all the mysteries in this house, it reminded Sirius of his work as an Auror; tracking down clues, trying to find a lead and maybe… just maybe, managing to crack the case.

Sirius rested his head on of his hands. There had to be a clue somewhere! It took a few seconds, but Sirius’s breath slowly began to cause condensation to form on the ebony exterior of the piano and what he saw in that small cloud startled him. The word ‘keys’ formed inside the condensated patch with a small arrow pointing down as if someone had drawn it with their finger. The message disappeared just as quickly as it appeared, but Sirius was thankful for any information he found. So, he started to study the keys more intently, just where was the clue he was looking for amongst them all.

Sirius was so distracted staring at the keys that he didn’t hear the gentle clinking coming from the shelves behind the real chair in the corner. He was so engrossed with the piano that he didn’t realise until one of the bottles on the shelf flew off and rolled across the floor before gently bumping his foot.

“What the…” Sirius picked up the bottle, studying it closely. It was a dark green bottle with a skull impression on it, presumably it held absinthe at one time but… it was… empty. The closer Sirius looked, he realised that the whole bottle wasn’t green – it was as if the glass had been dyed or dipped to make it look as if the bottle was full. This made even less sense than it being an empty bottle! The shelves had replenishing charms on all of them so this bottle couldn’t be empty… unless it was charmed to never refill but why would it be made to look as if it was full.

Sirius eyes suddenly flitted up to the portrait and to his shock; the bottle he was holding was no longer in the painting. He got up to test if this happened to any other bottles on that shelf but all of them were full and when removed, they stayed in the painting. What was even stranger though was when Sirius tried to pour the contents of one of the full bottles into the empty one, all the liquid simply disappeared. This bottle was charmed to never be filled! Or was it?

Sirius and his empty bottle moved back to the piano. “Okay so the bottle and the keys… I have an empty bottle and a piano full of keys… this is hopeless.” Sirius muttered to himself. “How will this get me anywhere?”

Sirius placed the bottle down on the piano's lid and the moment it connected with the dark polished surface – the whole room turned pitch black. For a while the solitary sound of Sirius breath was all that could be heard but it was soon joined by a slight cracking sound emanating from the piano where the bottle sat. When Sirius leaned closer, he could make out small dull green embers leaking from under the bottle and swirling their way to the top; almost like watching snow fall in reverse. They began to collect near the bottle top, creating a small clump of light which was slowly pushing the cork in the bottle up. When the cork finally broke free with a loud pop, the brightest light he had ever seen burst from the bottle.

When he could finally look back, that was when he noticed the luminescent green music bars that were on the ceiling.

“Merlin’s beard.” Sirius whispered to no one as his eyes trailed down to the portrait. “The keys, you want me to play it, don’t you?”

He had to play the music suspended in the air in front of him. It had been over twenty years since Sirius had played the piano, but it would come back to him, right? After a few rough attempts and some heated words, he managed to play it. A laugh of triumph pushed its way passed Sirius’s lips as he stared at the keys.

“I finally f*cking did it.” Sirius muttered to himself, but his moment of joy was short lived because when he looked back at that painting, it wasn’t there anymore. In fact, what he saw made his heart skip a beat and his gut drop; all he could do was stare in disbelief.

In place of that piece of art, was a mirror – the eery green glow of the room reflected across its surface. As he stood up from the piano, a translucent version of himself stared back; he wasn’t whole but not ghostly either. He looked younger, much younger; he couldn’t have been more than twenty. The reflection began to move on its own, it offered him a lop-sided smile and winked at him. Then a cloud began to form just behind him on the left; swirling and whirling until it imploded on itself and took the form of James Potter at around the same age. It happened again on the right and there was Regulus. Sirius started to hyperventilate by the time a third one appeared and revealed Orion Black. Orion looked older, he was older than the memories that Sirius had seen and older than what he remembered him.

Slowly, Orion extended his hand toward Sirius and it protruded from the mirror, his hand looked like moving water confined into one shape. Sirius stared in horror at this. He hadn’t seen this magic before. Then Sirius heard a voice he thought he’d never hear again in this lifetime.

“Come on, mate! We don’t have all day.” James laughed.

“What is this?” Sirius could barely utter the words.

“Don’t worry, Pads. You’ll be fine. Just take his hand. He has something to show you.” James smiled at Sirius. “Don’t be a mooncalf. Hurry up!” He teased.

“Okay.” Sirius whispered. Before Sirius could even move, he noticed small droplets of water started flying away from him and toward the mirror. When he looked down, his hands where nothing but clear running water streaming toward the mirrors surface. He screamed for Kreacher but before the elf could appear Sirius was propelled forward towards his father’s hand.

***

He felt like he was drowning, he couldn’t breathe, only the sensation of water surrounded him. Sirius forced his eyes open and found himself in dark, murky water – he imagined this is what swimming through the Black Lake must feel like. He caught sight of his hands and realised he was much younger. He brought his hands to his face about all he felt was stubble instead of his trimmed beard, he was the version of himself he had seen earlier!

The need for oxygen soon drew Sirius into the cold reality of his predicament. He started to swim up, but something was stopping him. He felt like there were hands all over him, but he couldn’t see them. He was trying to crawl his way to the surface, but he couldn’t move an inch! That’s when a pair of distinctive hands grasped his ankles, forcing him to look down in alarm. It was Regulus! Regulus was holding his ankles, but he looked so calm… it was like he could breathe under there or maybe he wasn’t breathing at all. The longer Regulus held him; the less Sirius could fight. He was weakening, he was fading… dying.

Regulus began to climb up Sirius’s legs until he was eye level with him. He put his hands either side of Sirius’s face so he could only look at his brother. There was a fierceness, a fire that Sirius had never seen before in Regulus’s eyes and without opening his mouth, Sirius heard Regulus clear as day screaming, “Go! Take him and the locket! Kreacher! Go now! I don’t care, take him back – they’ll kill him if he stays here! Kreacher, you must destroy it. He’s too weak. It’ll have to be you.”

The strength in his brother’s voice was just as foreign as the look in his eyes. Then it wasn’t just Regulus’s hands that Sirius felt, there were more hands clawing at his legs, the weight of it was pulling him down further into the abyss. Regulus’s voice continued to echo spells into Sirius’s mind, all while his mouth not opening once – both brothers fell into darkness.

***

Sirius sat up bolt upright taking the biggest breath he could. He was panting, like he been holding his breath for hours.

Surveying his surroundings, he was in someone’s living room on the sofa. He hadn’t been in this room before; he didn’t recognise it in the slightest, but he recognised some of the artifacts in it. He recognised the children’s toys in the corner, the jumper laid out on the armchair and the small bowl containing a goldfish. Tears sprung into Sirius’s eyes when he saw the photo frame on the small table next to him… it was Lily and James.

“Pads, what are you doing just sitting there? He’s here!” James’s voice called out from the hallway.

Sirius tried to respond but his mouth wouldn’t open either.

“Pads!” James’s voice was more urgent which caused Sirius to rush to the source.

He saw James fully braced staring at the front door and Lily on the stairs. “Go upstairs, get Harry and go!” James’s called out to Lily. “We’ll hold him off for as long as we can.”

Sirius could see Lily nod and run up the stairs leaving him and James on the downstairs landing waiting. “Right, we’re gonna run at him. As hard and fast as you can. With everything you got, Pads! You hear me! Everything! We must do this together! We can’t kill him alone, there’s too many! It must be together! Until the very end.”

“Yes!” Sirius thought but he sounded like he spoke it aloud. “Together, until the very end.”

“Together.” James echoed before the door flew open and a cloaked figure swooped in. The two men ran as fast as they could but neither reached it before a bright green light flew at them. The force sent them falling back into the staircase. Sirius felt his head collide with one of the steps and everything went blank.

***

When Sirius woke up his whole body hurt. It was like he had been hit by a train or dropped from fifty feet in the air. The sensation of something wet under him made him jolt up despite the pain; dread shot through him in he was dragged down into the water again. The wet surface didn’t feel like just water, it was solid, it felt like concrete after it had rained. Looking around, Sirius saw streetlights and a row of all too familiar terrace houses. Grimmauld place.

Number 12 had the door wide open, welcoming anyone into its hold. The orange glow of hall pushing its way out to illuminate the steps making them glisten. Sirius just sat there for a moment, watching the doorway – so lost in thought that he hadn’t heard the gentle rolling of tyres on tarmac behind him until a loud horn sounded behind him.

“Get out of the road, idiot.” A male voice called out for behind him.

“Sorry… Sorry.” Sirius stuttered as he stood up and for the first time so far, his mouth moved when he spoke. He stammered to his feet before making his way onto the pavement.

“F*cking idiot!” The voice called out after him.

Sirius continued to stare up at the doorway. What was behind that opening? What horrible fate was there for him to endure up those stairs? Sirius swallowed thickly before drawing in a deep breath through his nostrils, he shut his eyes for a moment – taking a moment to ready himself until… the distant panicked voice of Walburga emitted from the house.

“What have you gone and done now, you daft b*astard? What do you mean he's not coming back? What inferi? How can you say Regulus isn’t coming back? Stop saying that! Just stop it!” Walburga’s sobs ripped through the doorway drawing Sirius up the stairs… one painful step at a time.

When he entered the house, there wasn’t a soul near the doorway.

“In here, son. I’m here.” Orion’s deep voice carried its way softly through the house and washed Sirius in a sense of comfort after everything he had endured.

Sirius followed the voice into the study. Everything was crisp except the image of a women dressed in purple – presumably Walburga – rushing about the room and looking in different cabinets. She appeared a complete blur of movement, like a kaleidoscope of a woman. She was mummering but Sirius couldn’t make out what she was saying, it was like trying to listen to her with earmuffs on.

“You came.” Orion’s voice croaked out. “I knew you’d come back if I did this. I knew you’d come back to me, son.”

Orion was sprawled out over one of the sofas. One arm tucked into his jacket, a leg on the arm rest, and his other two limbs hanging loosely to his side touching the floor. He was so pale, too white, you would think it possible to see through him, but he had black streaks over his hands and face as if his blood had turned to ink. His suit was soaked through, clinging to his thinning frame – it was like the man was shrinking before your eyes. He moved his hand closest to the floor out to Sirius.

Instinctively, Sirius moved forward to sit on the coffee table in front of the sofa next to his father and reached for his hand. “I’m here. What did you do?”

Orion was coughing a spluttering as he strained to speak. The pain on his face was immeasurable as the scars on his face slowly began to come undone. “We’re going to kill him. We’re going to kill him and end it all. Your brother should be here soon and then we can destroy it.” He moved his hand from his jacket pocket to reveal a locket. “We worked out his secret. We’re going to make him mortal.” Orion coughed up a load of black liquid that trailed down his chin. “I drank the poison so your brother can destroy it. He’ll be here soon. He’ll be here and we can do this together. Together.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sure he’ll be here soon. We can all be together then.” Sirius tried to reassure his father the best he could, but Orion looked like he had aged thirty years in this small time.

“I’m so happy you’re here. I’m going to die but I’m glad you could be here. I’m glad I can die knowing you don’t hate me, Sirius. I love you so much.” Orion’s voice was getting quieter and more horse. “I did it for you. I didn’t want to let you down again – no more hiding from the war, I had to choose a side. I will choose you, Sirius. You and Regulus.” Orion began to choke on the black liquid he had been coughing up moments earlier. The man looked almost triple his age at this point.

Sirius felt his mouth go dry and a lump form in his throat; tears started to sting his eyes. “I’m here. No more talking.” Sirius used his spare hand to stroke his father’s hair. “I’m here. I’m so proud of you.” Sirius didn’t fully know what he was proud of but that’s not what mattered right now. “You can be with Y/N now.”

“It will be good to see her. I miss her so much. I’ll miss you, son. I’ll keep helping, I’ll find a way. I’ll find a-…” Orion looked up at Sirius as fought for his breath. The black substance continued to spit its way out of Orion’s mouth. Soon the liquid was pouring from his nose, ears, and eyes but Orion refused to look away from his son, Sirius would be the last thing he would see. It was truly horrific to see someone dying like this. The splits in his skin that were once scarred were now fully opened gashes to the bone. It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, but it felt never-ending to Sirius – what had Orion drank?

Orion was no longer able to breathe as black fluid overwhelmed his system. Every part of him felt like he was on fire or submerged in acid. He let out one finally splutter before his eyes glazed over – that was the last time Sirius would look into his father’s eyes and it broke him. He fell forward onto his knees and let his head fall onto his father’s chest as sobs ripped through him. Sirius found himself screaming through his tears. He could let go of his father; he wouldn’t let go of the python grip he had on his hand.

“No. No, no, no, no…” Sirius sobbed into his father’s chest. Sirius used the hand that had stroked his father’s hair to shake his shoulder. “No. Wake up.” Sirius began to shake Orion more vigorously. “Dad!” but nothing worked. Orion was gone. Sirius continued to cry as the blurred purple woman came over and began to express her own muffled grief. Eventually, Sirius couldn’t open his eyes anymore and the world went dark as night.

***

Sirius was startled awake on the same settee in his father’s study by Kreacher splashing him in the face with glass of ice-cold water. Sirius felt like he was choking.

“Master, are you alright?” Kreacher enquired.

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inkareds · 2 years

Text

Werewolf by Night Day 1 - Werewolf // Moon Knight

event masterlist // ko-fi // normal nav

Whilst Marc never seem to care much about you, fully intending to avoid you. Both Jake and Steven seems to desperately want the usually closed off man to open up.

✧.* Word count: 3.8k

✧.* Warnings: mentions of injury, blood, stitching, Marc centred, kind of rushed ending, Marc being an annoying lil shit, the reader is physically strong and was a SHIELD agent

✧.* genre: SFW // fluffy ending

Rmbr guys the event is still open and there's still a lot of slots left!!! Unless they're filled out I'll just put whoever I want AHAHAHAH (also thankq for my bestie for requesting this)

“Care to tell me how you got into this situation again?” You could hear Marc’s exasperated sigh from the other line. “With all due respect, I can tell it to you a hundred times after this!”

A burst of laughter escapes you as the sounds of grunting, and snarling beasts fill the other line. “So, are you going to help me or keep laughing at me from the other line?” Marc was clearly getting impatient.

He thought calling you would get him backup, but it seems that the only thing he’s getting is your judgement. Throwing another one of his moon-shaped daggers towards the werewolf, trying to catch up to him, he ran as fast as he could to dodge the other werewolf, trying to gain the upper hand on him. Then, swerving himself to a nearby alley to catch his breath, his eye got caught in his own reflection on a puddle.

“See, Steven, I’m telling you this was a bad idea! They’re just going to keep taunting us over the line.” He complained towards his companion. “They’re going to come, mate. Just trust us, they were Jake’s partner for years, remember?” Steven, donning his Mr Knight outfit from the reflection restated.

Marc’s head whipped around the alley outside when a loud crash followed by multiple snarling echoed through the empty night streets. “Well, tell Jake, that his old partner is a piece of shit!” Marc yelled at Steven just before going back to the fray.

“Glad to know even Steven’s the only one without a sailor’s tongue.” The sound of a different voice other than the snarls of beasts caught the attention of Marc. Looking up, his masked eyes were met with your gleeful gaze, holding two guns in your hands.

Under the mask, not that you knew, Marc grinned. “Took you long enough.” He was able to keep his annoyance in his tone.

“Oh shut up, Casper the friendly ghost. I had to change my bullets to silver bullets. It takes a while to do that, you know.” You shrugged as you carefully made your way from the rooftop down to the ground beside Marc. “Any reason why it isn’t Jake in control right now?” You motioned your gun towards Marc’s outfit.

It was extremely easy to guess who was fronting when they wore their suits. Steven always had the Mr Knight outfit, Marc had the ceremonial robes of Khonshu, and Jake had a more practical, military-style black and white more armoured outfit.

You had asked because, though you often worked with the Avatar of Khonshu, it was extremely rare for you to work with Steven or Marc. You see, you had a history with Jake Lockley long before you knew Marc and Steven existed.

Being an ex-SHIELD agent allowed you to work together with the fist of Khonshu for quite some time during his work in the States. During those times you were working with him, you knew him for Jake Lockley. Only when he disappeared without any sign of contact did you start worrying.

Then he showed up one night, explaining everything. Turns out, after Marc was found out by Steven and the whole Arthur Harrow event unfolded, it didn’t take long for Jake’s existence to be noticed by the other two. Which led to a long conversation about every memory gap Marc had. Which led to Jake coming that night to your doorstep explaining everything.

To be quite honest, you were expecting much worse. When your co-workers on a daily have to deal with literal Norse Gods, a man in a flying suit of armour, several witches and wizards, and a guy with a bow and arrow. Safe to say you weren’t surprised that the man who served under the Egyptian Moon God wasn’t all that he said he was.

“Guess he just didn’t want to see you this time.” Marc quickly made up an excuse right as a werewolf swerved its head towards the noise of his voice. Eyes locking in with the beast, there was a short tense moment where the two simply stared.

All before the werewolf lunged at both you and Marc. Thinking quickly, you aimed your guns at the beast, firing your silver bullets at the creature while pushing your body to the side to avoid its deadly lunge.

What perfect timing, you thought to yourself. Of course, you could see through the bold-faced lie Marc told you. There was more to it than Jake just not wanting to see you. You and him have been inseparable since the two of you met. But, seeing as the werewolf you shot and previously thought was dead was now starting to move once again. You knew it wasn’t the time to think of such trivial matters.

Marc could only thank whatever Egyptian God controlled the timing of that werewolf. Had you teased him or called him out on his lie, which you definitely would’ve if you had gotten the chance, he wouldn’t have been able to back up his statement.

There was good reason for you to be confused why Marc, of all people, was fronting. He tended to be the one who didn’t get along with you as much. You didn’t put it against him, Jake and you hadn’t gotten along when you first met either. It was a trust thing. And Steven trusted quickly, so it wasn’t hard for you and him to get along.

But for that exact reason, Steven and Jake, mostly Jake, usually fronted during the missions when you started joining them.

The thing that Marc would never tell you was that he and Jake got into a relatively heated argument right before this mission. Something about Jake yelling at him for being rude to you the last time the two of you interacted. To which Marc simply responded that he just flatly didn’t like you all that much.

Not like Jake or Steven. As Marc could very clearly tell, Jake had something for you, and perhaps you were growing on Steven. Something Marc loathed.

During that argument, Jake and Steven agreed that Marc would be the one fronting when you tagged along on their missions. But, it turned out, that agreement would come to play sooner than any of them had expected. Marc had actually tried giving control over the other two people in his headspace right after he called for your backup.

In response, they completely ignored him and simply pushed him back into the driver’s seat.

“How many are after you?!” you called out to Marc as the two of you split up into two different sections of the street so that the werewolves wouldn’t be working together. “Five, last I checked!”

The one that you had shot when it lunged towards you, and Marc in the alleyway was chasing after you. Its thick black fur matted with its own blood. It was moving much more sluggish than when it first pounced on you. So, aiming true, you shot the beast one last time. Watching as the creature slowed down and finally fell to the ground, unmoving.

“I got one!” You shouted out towards Marc. You saw from the corner of your eye that two werewolves were chasing after Marc, meaning there were two left.

One was running straight towards you, its sharp white teeth ready to rip you to shreds. You dodged some of its attacks as you let a rain of bullets attack the creature. “That’s one, Marc has two, one of them is down. Where is the other one?” You whispered to yourself as you made the final shots to the beast.

Keeping an eye on the look out, you pressed your back against a wall so you wouldn’t be ambushed from your back. You reloaded your guns. Who knew killing mythical beasts would use up so many bullets.

As your mind raced to figure out where the last werewolf could be, you failed to realize that the building you were leaning on didn’t have a tall roof. It was too late when you heard the growling. Looking upwards, you were met with the figure of a leaping werewolf right about to land a killing blow on you. Its long arms with sharp claws outstretched towards you.

Though you were too late to dodge unscathed, you felt fortunate enough that the only damage you sustained was a deep cut on your arm from where the werewolf’s claw had sunk into your skin. Biting the inside of your lip, you ignored the burning pain of a fresh wound on your arm. You had to focus. If you don’t, the little wound would be the least of your concerns.

“Shit.” You murmured as the beast looked even more ravenous after having a small taste of ripping your flesh. You knew at this point that your right hand would be useless; if you decided to put it to work, you could rip more of your tendons from the already tender wound.

But you hadn’t realized how dire your situation was until your head began spinning. For a mere second, your eyes left the beast’s terrifying gaze to look at your arm and assess how much blood you had lost. Unfortunately, the answer was too much. And when the beast lunged at you once again when you were not ready, you were forced to throw yourself to the ground so that its claws would not sink to your head.

In return, another flesh wound was given to you, this time on your cheek. And with you now being on the ground. One arm was severely injured and the other was holding said severely injured hand to make sure it didn’t completely bleed out. You realized you were fucked.

Codeword; were.

Your knight in shining, well white, armour appeared right behind the werewolf and slammed his body to the creature. You watched in gratefulness as Marc wrestled for a moment with the werewolf under him before finally being able to land a killing blow with his crescent-shaped blade.

“I’d love to say I had it under control, but I really didn’t.” you jested, “Thank you.” your smile was both genuine and joyful. Wanting to mask how much pain you were into the mercenary in front of you.

What scared you, though, was that Marc didn’t even respond. He stalked over towards you and wordlessly crouched right beside you. You watched with a curious gaze as he took off his cape, noting how the mask was still on his face; you couldn’t really see his expression and therefore read what he was thinking.

Using his cape, he did quick work at making a makeshift tourniquet also with a branch he had found. You tried to not wince at the pain of it all as he tightened the, now red with your blood, white cape right above the deep wound.

Unbeknownst to you, a flurry of very colourful curse words of two languages were echoing through Marc’s mind.

“How did you not see that there was three following them?! You could’ve handled three but no. You had to be the one to deal with two werewolves and give the other one to them!?” He heard Jake yell in his head.

The first time the man decided to speak since the argument. And he sounded even more enraged now than during the argument.

“Jake let’s not jump into conclusion yeah? Bet Marc didn’t even know the other one was following them. Plus, we just need to focus on getting them stitched up now.” Steven tried calming the very mad Latino down.

“Fine, but if you fuck up, I’ll take over and deal with it myself.”

Usually, Jake’s statement on taking over the body when it was dealing with you would’ve made Marc happy. But, again, he didn’t like dealing with you, not that he really knew why. It was just that Marc felt weird whenever you were around. And he hated it. Therefore, he hated you. But in today’s case. He loathed the idea of Jake taking over. It was his fault that you got hurt. He’ll be the one to fix it.

“Hey, you okay? You didn’t get hurt, did you? I thought Khonshu’s suit would make you heal fast or something.” Despite your apparent worse state than him, you still showed him more compassion than he had the entire time he had known you.

Your eyebrows furrowed in worry when Marc still didn’t answer. His emotionless mask showed none of his inner turmoil as one of your hands reached out to where his cheek would be. When he realized this, he quickly stood up from where he was standing.

“Can you walk?” he almost winced at how cold he sounded. Especially when you reacted in such a confused manner from his sudden bluntness.

You nodded as you stood up, “Yeah, I didn’t get scratched in the leg you know.” Again you tried to joke. Not that Marc laughed.

When he began walking, you asked, “Where are we going?” taking the fact that he wasn’t bidding you goodbye as a sign for you to follow him, you did so. Wincing at the slight movement making the blood seep through the tourniquet. “Steven’s loft is close to here. I’ll get you patched up there.”

You didn’t even try to hide your shock from the man. There were plenty of times you had gotten yourself hurt on the field. But usually, it’d be Jake who’d patch you up, or you patching yourself up whilst Jake, and you had a conversation. The latter was the more common one.

Despite this, you weren’t going to question it too much. Whatever’s gotten to Marc Spector’s head to get him to patch you up will not stop you from not having to stitch your own wounds.

The walk back to Steven’s walk was awkward, at least to you it was. Marc had stayed in front of you whilst you followed slowly behind him. Wincing every so often when stings of pain jolted up your arm. Marc looked back at you every time, only to mask his caring nature once you realized he was looking towards you.

Finally arriving at the homey loft, you made quick work going to the bathroom, ignoring Marc as best you could as you slowly took off the white, now red, cape from your wound. Flinching at the burning pain. Analyzing it under the luminescent yellow light of Steven’s bathroom, you could clearly tell that it would need stitches. Unfortunately, the fact that Marc had yet to enter the bathroom with you meant that Marc pulled back on his own words on patching you up.

Biting the inside of your mouth, you sucked in your shaky breath. Fuck him then.

Taking off your shirt with much effort, you prepared the needle and thread, hoping it won’t hurt so much this time. It always does, though. It always hurts no matter how many times you’d have to get stitched back up.

“What are you doing?” Speak of the Devil.

You turned your head around at Marc’s voice in the doorway he stood, carrying a bottle of alcohol. Its label scratched off and blurred from age. You had once wondered if Steven drank as much as the other two, as Marc did indulge in the liquid gold; Jake, from your longtime friendship with him, was clear to you only drank for recreation. From the look of the bottle Marc was holding, you’ve got your answer. Steven hardly drank.

You noticed that you had begun to get to know the other men that shared Jake’s body. Something you felt great joy at. You knew how much Steven and Marc meant to Jake, despite him never actually voicing how he felt. And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t extremely attracted to the man.

It only hurt you when Marc would so often brush you off. Avoid you at all costs. Even Steven warmed up to you. Why didn’t Marc?

“Trying to make sure I don’t bleed out and die?” You jested.

Marc’s already furrowed brows only furrowed deeper as he shook his head. “I said I’ll do it remember?” You stayed silent, mostly in slight shock, as Marc, now not in his costume anymore, made his way towards you.

You could tell he hesitated for a moment when he realized you weren’t wearing a shirt anymore. Despite this, he steeled himself off the embarrassment and grabbed the needle and thread from your hands. You had never seen Marc so gentle as that moment. He, softer than you thought was possible for Marc, angled your hand so that he could better patch it up.

The silence both of you had made for yourself was only broken when Marc poured half of the bottle’s contents towards your, still bleeding, arm. You threw your head to the side as you bit your tongue to stop a scream from leaving you. The stinging pain burned from your hand all the way up and down your arm.

“I’m sorry.” You didn’t even register the fact that Marc had whispered those two words under his breath, as you were too busy not to let out your own slew of curses. Knowing had you done so, the next time Jake and you were alone, you wouldn’t hear an end to his teasing.

If only you knew how silent both Jake and Steven were in Marc’s mind. The two of them fretting about your own wellbeing.

Turning your head back to look at Marc, your heart stammered against your chest for a moment. He looked so focused, so careful. You could tell he was nervous; just like Jake, he had a tendency to stiffen his jaw when he was unsure of something. But his hands were as stable as they could get.

“Look away; it’ll make things easier.” You were about to retort how you’ve been patched up more times than one could count on their hands, how a little bit of blood and gore won’t do much to you.

But with the gash continuing to ooze blood, you heeded Marc’s warning and looked away. You gritted your teeth when the first puncture of a needle inserted itself into your skin.

When it was finished, Matt softly wrapped a piece of gauze on your skin. And finally, looked upwards to look at your face and not your wound.

That was the moment both of your eyes locked with one another. The tension was palpable in the air. So thick one would be able to cut it with a knife. Though from your point of view, everything was silent. Marc’s head spoke a different story.

“Kiss them.” Jake muttered. “We’ve talked about this, just kiss em’.”

But he couldn’t.

Looking into your eyes, Marc wouldn’t let himself fall for you. Not the same way Jake and Steven have. He won’t let himself be weak. So, Marc looked away, he turned and aimed to beeline towards the door.

Which he would’ve done had you not immediately grasped his arm, pulling him so he’d face you once more, and in one swift movement, pressed your lips against his. Marc’s eyes widened as he realized what you had done; for a moment, you were about to pull back because of his hesitancy to kiss you back. Thinking you had made a mistake in reading his body language and attraction towards you.

Steven was the one who stopped this from happening. “MATE, KISS THEM BACK!!!” Finally, Marc snapped out of his trance just before you pulled away. Marc pressed his hand against the back of your neck, pushing you into a deeper kiss with the man. You hummed in pleased surprise.

“Mierda, why was that so difficult?” Jake muttered in their head as Marc pulled away. Leaving you absolutely breathless.

Marc’s heart practically soared when he saw your eyes, starry and joyous. You looked incredible and that kiss felt even more incredible. He scolded himself internally for waiting that long to do it.

The moment was ruined when you couldn’t hold back your laughter anymore. “You know, I had thought if I were to kiss one of you, it’d be Jake first.”

“You hear that?!” Jake enthusiastically yelled. Marc’s face morphed into that of jealousy as he listened to your laughter. In a way, it made sense; for one, Marc was the one who seemed to hate you the most out of the other two; for two, Jake had known you much longer. But that didn’t stop him from being slightly annoyed by your statement.

“Oh, I see how it is, alright then if you prefer Jake.” Marc pulled away from your embrace, feigning frustration. “No Marc! No! That’s not what I meant!!” You were able to mutter out between your fits of laughter.

Before you could apologize even more, Marc’s body stiffened for a moment, “Marc?”

“Not anymore, mi corazon.” Just like that, Jake was in control. He immediately pushed you back towards the sink you had been leaning to, his body pressed against you.

From his grin, you could already tell that it was Jake. “I heard you were looking for me?” he whispered, his face mere centimetres away from your own.

When it was Marc, you were bold but hesitant, but Jake? Jake, you were an absolute mess for. Jake chuckled almost condescendingly when you couldn’t find the words to answer. Then, slowly inching closer to you, his lips were on you. You melted against his warm embrace, both his hands trapping you between him and the sink.

Just as Jake snaked his tongue into your own mouth, all of a sudden he pulled back. Your eyes opened in confusion, only to be met with Steven. Till this day, it surprised you how much you could tell the three apart.

“Sorry for the interruption loves, but you see I think it’s kind of unfair that Marc got your first kiss and now Jake’s about to do something else. I’m just here watching all of this unfold, even though we’ve had this conversation before and we agreed to-”

For a third time that night, you kissed the men you loved. Essentially it was to shut Steven up, though it was also to help him feel less left out. When you pulled away, Steven looked positively beaming and shocked simultaneously. His expression and reactions differ so much from the other two that it caused a giggle to escape you.

“Good night boys.” you muttered to Steven as you made your way out of the bathroom, not forgetting a small kiss on Steven’s cheek as a thank you for giving his place for you to patch up.

Steven practically watched you leave with stars in his eyes, knowing that the next time you meet, it’ll be much different than the tense environment it had been before.

#moon knight #moon knight x reader #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac #steven grant x reader #steven grant #marc spector x reader #marc spector #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley #moon knight fluff #moon knight fanfic #flufftober22

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the-masked-ram · 11 months

Text

Tricks- Solomon x GN!Reader

CW: Mild NSFW scene, GN!Reader, Two-faced Solomon, Bit a dark thoughts

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Solomon sat in the library, usually he would be reading a book on demonology and learning even more than his vast knowledge already carried. However, today something or rather someone had caught his eye. You’d been coming in a lot lately, and he had yet gotten to know the only other human in the whole of Devildom.

There was something that niggled at him, something like those strange tangles of magic he was so used to playing with, that called him to you. Eventually he set down the book he hadn’t been reading, because try as he might his eyes would rather track you than words, and he stood. Brushing away invisible wrinkles in his uniform he approached you, a genial smile on his face.

“Ah! Hello again,” he said, grinning at you as you spun around at his voice.

Your eyes were wide, surprised and they reminded him of a little rabbit, about to be killed by a beast’s great jaws. Something primal in him unfurled itself, awaking at the sight and rumbling in appreciation. Behind his closed lips he ran his tongue along the front of his teeth, fighting against the desire to feast on whatever impressive pheromone you seemed to be releasing.

“H-hi!” you squeaked, surprise making you stumble over your words.

His smile fought to turn sharp, but he kept it smooth, oh who knew the little human was so soft, so sensitive, and he the most powerful wizard with multitudes of demons under his control was so close to you. You were almost too pure for him, definitely too pure for this realm.

“Know what book you’re looking for?” Solomon asked, motioning to your empty hands and the bookshelf behind you.

You shook your head, “I need to find something for class? Do you know where the History of the Demon Lords is?”

He scoffed out a laugh, “That’s actually a whole section. There’s far too much bloodshed and misery to be kept in a single book.”

You frowned, “Damn that’s why I couldn’t find it.”

“It has always been written like this, as if it’s an actual book. It’s not helpful for exchange students,” Solomon said. “Come.”

You followed behind him and for a moment he let himself languish in the darker corners of his mind, the ones you had unlocked. He imagined pinning you up against stacks, fucking his tongue past your lips as you grew desperate for him. Until you eventually dropped to your knees and begged with those pretty rabbit-like eyes for a taste of his cock.

He stopped in front of the section you needed, “Would you like help? Little Hare?”

You blinked up at him, surprised by the name but thinking nothing of it, instead you welcomed him into your world of light and kindness. You welcomed a monster in disguise. He wouldn’t ruin your trust, he couldn’t let himself do that, not unless you deserved it. If you weren’t as innocent as you seemed, would you let him show you all the tricks he’s learned?

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To see more writing like this and a lot of original work please follow me on patreon:

#solomon x reader #solomon obey me #obey me #fanfiction #drabble

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shadyelizabeth · 2 years

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8.08. GARDEN PARTY

Harry looked down out of the picture window in Draco’s old bedroom at the Manor’s backyard, which had been transformed into a floral wonderland. Flowers of all shapes, sizes, and colors decorated the yard, in giant vases, as centerpieces, and hung around the mouths of the white wedding tents that had been raised. Each tent was strung with fairy lights by actual fairies who were floating freely around the space. The sun was shining high in the bright, blue sky with no clouds in sight.

Dozens of fashionably dressed witches and wizards were mingling, sipping glasses of something light and fizzy. The flutes were enchanted to automatically refill themselves when empty, and by the braying laughter filtering up through the thick glass, he knew some people were well into their third or fourth drinks.

He recognized a few faces, some from the Ministry and some from the press, but the rest were strangers to him. And yet, all of them were here for him and Draco, waiting for them to make their grand entrance.

In the years since the war ended, Harry had taken back his privacy. The wizarding world would always know him as “The Boy Who Lived” but that didn’t mean they needed to know his every move, especially as an adult. He knew certain things would be unavoidable, like when he took a job as an Auror or what team he was supporting at the Quidditch World Cup, but he took extra measures to make sure no one ever followed him home or was able to report on the mundane things, like what he purchased on his weekly trips to the market. He controlled his own narrative now.

Which was why the press didn’t know about his and Draco’s relationship until they were ready. They’d taken things so slow at the beginning, figuring out if the lust between them was anything more than carnal attraction or not. Even after they’d agreed to get to know each other as Harry and Draco, instead of Potter and Malfoy, they waited a couple more months before “getting caught” holding hands in public, fully prepared to make headlines for weeks, if not months.

However, having that control for so long left him unprepared for Narcissa Malfoy and the Malfoy family traditions.

Tucking a finger underneath his collar, Harry gently tugged, suddenly feeling like his dress shirt was choking him.

As if sensing his distress, Draco’s arms wrapped around Harry’s waist. His head rested softly on his shoulder. Harry leaned back into his warm embrace.

Pressing a soft kiss to his temple, Draco said, “I’m sorry about all of this.”

“I’m assuming this isn’t your fault. Unless you specifically told your mum to plan this societal debut.”

“No.” Draco chuckled. “I did not, but I’ve also never been good at denying Mother’s wishes. I should have been more stern in letting her know you were uncomfortable with this type of attention. To her credit, though, she did keep the guest list small.”

Harry felt his eyes bulge. Craning his head to look up at his boyfriend, he said, “You call this small?!”

“Yes.” He nodded. “The previous guest list had three hundred people on it. I talked her down to under one.”

He sighed heavily through his nose.

When Draco had told him his mother was planning a garden party to officially announce their relationship (because, apparently, it wasn’t legitimate before now), Harry had thought it was a joke, but Draco had shrugged sheepishly. The Malfoys had a long list of old family traditions, and if Harry intended to have a future with Draco, he would have to get used to events like this. Thankfully, this was the only one for now where he was a guest of honor.

“We don’t have to stay long,” Draco said, giving him a small squeeze. “We just have to make a few rounds and introductions. Let Mother get through her sappy speech about how happy she is for us and how you’re a part of the family now, and when we get home”–he nibbled on his earlobe–“I promise to make it up to you.”

Resigned, Harry said, “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

>>>>>>>

Things were going better than Harry had expected. Draco had been by his side since they’d descended the stairs, and he’d kept a hand on Harry at all times, whether it was on the small of his back, an arm wrapped around his waist, or their fingers laced together. His touch offered a steady stream of comfort.

Having checked their reflections in the mirror before leaving the room, he knew the picture they made. With his black curls and inky black dress robes that shifted like the night sky when he moved and Draco in his sparkling silver suit and with the signature platinum-blonde Malfoy hair, they looked like yin and yang, a contrast of dark and light. (Of course, Harry hadn’t had any say in how they were styled this afternoon.)

Now that they were on the grounds, Harry was in awe of his surroundings. The flowers were so vibrant he had to wonder if magic had helped grow them. There were bouquets of red and white roses, the reds like rubies, and the whites as bright as freshly fallen snow. There were large, blossoming sunflowers and a spectrum of purple flowers, from light, powdery lilac to deep, royal indigo. Flowers he’d never seen before sprung up from the grass in prismatic patches, and the smell was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before even though Draco liked experimenting with floral scents.

They made their rounds, stopping to chat with anyone who stopped them or waved them aside. Many of the guests were parents of his former classmates. He could see the similarities in their facial features–in the slope of a nose or the curve of someone’s smile. Draco was content doing most of the talking, but some people wanted to hear from him directly.

Some wanted to talk about his job. Everyone knew being an Auror wasn’t for the faint of heart. If his life hadn’t been what it was, he’s sure he would have chosen a different profession, but not even having fought Voldemort had prepared him for some of the horrors he saw on the job. He tried to keep being an Auror separate from his personal life, politely declining to answer any questions outside of how things were going and how much longer he saw himself in the position.

A couple of women wanted to gossip, asking if there were any plans for a wedding in the near future and if they had thought about having kids. Those were conversations he and Draco had yet to have, so he could answer truthfully. When they needled him for more information, asking how he personally felt about wanting kids and what that would mean if Draco didn’t feel the same, he let himself get pulled away.

Even though the war had been over for almost ten years now, the parents who pulled him aside wanted to thank him for his sacrifice, which wasn’t anything new. People had been approaching him for years issuing the same sentiment, and despite the time that’d passed, he still hadn’t quite figured out how to respond. It wasn’t as if he’d volunteered to be Voldermort’s counter. Participating in the war hadn’t been a choice for him, which was why accepting their gratitude never felt right–and why, as soon as he finished talking to the parents of a Hufflepuff from his year, he “excused himself to the loo”.

He dodged anyone and any questions he could, never stopping but smiling politely and saying he had to use the restroom, but as soon as he found a quiet, unpopulated corner, he removed his glasses and wiped a hand down his face, taking a few deep breaths to center himself.

After a few minutes and a small pep talk with himself, Harry set off down the hall looking for an actual washroom. He’d only been to the Manor a handful of times, and it was large enough that he still hadn’t learned his full way around.

He opened one door on the left side of the hall that seemed to be separate from the others, but it turned out to be a storage closet of some sort, full of fur coats and boxes and something that rattled in the corner where the light didn’t reach. He quickly shut the door and walked a few more meters before trying another one, but just as his hand reached for the handle, he could see the door was already cracked open. Leaning in, a voice could be heard from inside, saying his name.

“–thought that Harry Potter was a sissy?”

“As much time as he supposedly spent with Dumbledore, is there really any surprise?”

Harry’s blood turned to ice; his stomach curdled.

“The Malfoy boy came as no shock. He’s always been a little too dainty if you ask me.”

The other voice hummed in agreement.

“And this whole party celebrating their so-called love is a disgrace. The two of them parading around, holding hands, like it’s normal for two lads to get on? I don’t care if Potter did save the wizarding world. If he takes a prick up–”

Harry slammed the door shut and took off back the way he’d come, not wanting to hear the rest of that conversation.

Without really paying attention to where he was going, he somehow ended up back in Draco’s old bedroom. His hands were shaking when he closed the door.

He and Draco had had a long talk about how people might react to their relationship once they went public. Draco had come out soon after the war. People were always going to judge him for being a Death Eater. He figured they might as well judge his whole self.

As expected, he’d faced increased backlash. Those who yelled at and heckled him for his involvement with the Dark Lord tagged on derogatory slurs. Draco hadn’t let it affect him; living in fear of dying every day had given him a thick skin, and even though their relationship was coming more than five years later, he warned Harry he could face the same scrutiny, regardless of who he was.

Harry had always known it would happen one day. If Dumbledore wasn’t able to escape the debasement even in death, Harry knew he wouldn’t be able to, but maybe a small part of him thought he could, if only because it hadn’t happened yet.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been absent from the party when Draco found him. His expression must have been bleak because he immediately fell to his knees in front of him and asked, “What’s wrong, love?”

He shook his head, unable to meet Draco’s eyes. “Nothing. It’s dumb. It–it’s stupid.”

“Harry.” Draco tucked a finger under his chin and gently raised his head. “What happened?”

He sighed. “I accidentally overheard two wizards talking about us. They were saying some crude things, and–”

Giving Harry’s thigh a gentle squeeze, Draco said, “Say no more. I’m sorry you had to hear that. Did you–”

“No.” Harry shook his head. “I was angry, but I think I was mostly shocked even though you warned me. You told me it would happen one day.”

Draco softly rubbed the inside of his knee with his thumb. “And yet, you’re still never quite ready when it does.” Standing up, he placed a soft kiss on Harry’s forehead. Holding out his hand, he said, “Let’s get out of here.”

“But what about the party?” He glanced out the window where the event was still going strong. “And your mum?”

“Forget the party. We’ve said enough hellos. We’ll miss her speech, but she’ll undeniably recite it for us later.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” His silver eyes sparkled in the sunlight shining through the window. “Let’s go home.”

AUGUST MASTERPOST

#so behind on these #august 2022 #august writing challenge #august writing prompts #harry potter #draco malfoy #drarry fanfiction #drarry fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfiction #word prompt: garden party #tw: homophobia #gotta stop writing four page fics

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bluegoblinzz · 8 months

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A king's request

To teach Finn magic, Fer brought him to a library, filled with young dwarven scholars and older wizards. The rhythmic booming of the pulse was muffled in this room, and unlike every other place in the city, there were no songs in this place. Though there was a low murmur as scholars compared notes, and some wizards grumbled under their breaths in frustration.

Finn hadn't held his twisted wand since he bought it, and Fer needed to remind him how to hold it once again: not in the palm of his dominant hand, but in between his index and middle finger of his non-dominant hand, with the handle resting on his thumb.

“And you'll never use your wrist,” Fer explained, “Tracin's will be done with your thumb, and the spell's aim should be controlled with your arm, or with your thumb additionally.”

“I know,” Finn nodded, “that's something Omaen's mother told me already.”

“Great,” She said, smiling, “So you're done with the first step. Next, there's six different motions ya must know that you will use in your spells.”

“And when I wave my wand in that way I'll cast a spell?”

“No,” Fer shook her head, “That's only a part of it, but it is a necessary technique to harness this power.” Fer took time to teach Finn how to move his wand. There was an upwards arching motion, a downwards arching motion, a vertical line traced upwards, a vertical line traced downward, a clockwise spiral, and a counterclockwise spiral. Finn mimicked these motions with his wand, but even then Fer corrected him, saying that he was flicking his wand too fast.

“Wave it gracefully,” she insisted “you will constrict the spell if you violently wave the wand.” Still, even as Fer taught him the technique required to hold a wand and what somatic skills he would need to perform spells, what she had said about magic still swirled around in his head: the essence of magic is truth. The way she had described magic merely brought up more questions than answers.

“Now,” Fer continued, “There's three limitations you can encounter. Your own understandin' of a spell, your understandin' of the essence, and how one is able to use the essence. A novice wizard may be able to summon a storm, and that would be all. Or a novice wizard may dabble in thousands upon thousands of spells, but be very inconsistent at performing them due to a lack of understanding.”

“What is this 'essence' though?” Finn asked, “you said earlier that the essence of magic is truth. You don't mean truth here, do you?” Fer shrugged.

“More or less,” she shrugged, “It may seem that the essence might not have to do with truth, and rather be more related to change but wrapped in all its mystery and complexity is truth in a physical form.”

“But how does that work?” Finn asked, rubbing his brow, “how can something be truth? How can I use truth? it doesn't make sense.”

“The essence is hard to control,” Fer said, “but in order to harness the essence, there is a sort of induction we use.” Finn nodded, listening and waiting for her to tell him what it was.

“Close your eyes, and think about nothin'.” This surprised Finn. Nothing? how was that even possible? Finn tried it and shut his eyes, but he found thoughts buzzed past him and questions swirled in his mind. It sounded like chattering that he couldn't quite parse together unless he focused on one thought. he then tried to think about the concept of nothing. A big empty void. He stretched it in his mind, attempting to make it infinite, dark, and devoid of anything, but other thoughts distracted him, as well as the fact that other images crossed his mind. He let out an exasperated sigh, and opened his eyes to find Fer giving him a pitiful look.

“It's rough, isn't it?” She asked, and then smiled, “it's alright, no one ever gets it their first try. And I can probably give you exercises to start with. Here, do ya have a spell tome we can begin with?” Finn nodded, going into his sack, and pulling out the book he bought from Omaen's mother. Fer shook her head.

“That's a secondary source,” She said, “I should have known. Tomes aren't often just sold by any old merchant. Here, let me get one.” She got up from her chair, and wandered off behind one of the large bookshelves. Finn looked up and around at the scholars and at the other wizards. One wizard, who had his face buried in a book, looked up to glare at Finn, and then looked back at his book. He didn't know why that dwarf was angry but he had to assume he was too loud with his conversation.

Finn noticed something that wasn't apparent before, but now that he was sitting and waiting he couldn't ignore it: many of the dwarves wore fake bull's horns. The ones chiseling at the wall wore helmets with them, the children wore crocheted hats with little white horn nubs on them, some wore headbands with shiny white polished stones, even Fer's pointed wizard hat was sewn in such a way where two points were in the side. He wondered why this was, and what their fascination with horns was.

While he waited for Fer to come back he thought about magic, or what he heard about it so far. It wasn't what he expected... and this notion of truth... it was disturbing. He didn't want the truth, or to face the truth or to give other people the truth. He wanted to hide who he was and hide his past, and run from it. Connecting to the truth was not what he wanted. But then what did he want? The thought was too much for him to fathom, and he found himself getting up and leaving the library. He didn't know where he was going, but he felt he needed to go. I need air.

When he turned the corner exiting the library, he ran straight into a tall figure. He stumbled backwards, tilting his head upward to meet the gaze of a large minotaur. The minotaur's expression wasn't angered, but more confused and curious, staring down at Finn with big eyes. Finn was at a loss for words, partially embarrassed, partially unsure. Can he even understand me??

“Oi, don't mind Buck, he's friendlier than the rest.” Finn drew his eyes away from the minotaur to find a dwarf carrying some kind of walking stick. He was clad in a black tunic with gold trimmings. He had bright gold eyes, stark black hair, and a beard neatly woven, and dark skin of a desert dwarf. He had a steady smile, a round face, and a plump nose. He seemed farther in his adulthood than Finn was, but not quite old enough to be considered wisened, or even experienced. At most, he was seven years older than Finn. Most notably, unlike the rest of the dwarves, he had a pair of horns, real horns, emerging from each of his temples.

Finn was about to simply greet the dwarf and then go on his way, but he found himself dumbly blurt out “You have horns.” Buck the minotaur let out a snort, and the dwarf's steady smile became a smirk.

“Yes,” he said, “and I heard earlier you had cat ears and whiskers.” Finn blinked.

“How... did you know?” Finn knew he stood out before, but he assumed magic users wouldn't be rare enough to be gossiped about. This dwarf was just proof of that.

“It's my job to know what mages come in and out of this humble city.”

“Who are you?” Finn asked.

“I was gonna ask ya the same question,” The dwarf replied narrowing his eyes, “who are you?”

“There ya are, Finn!” Fer sighed, stepping into the hallway, “I found a tome that's real g-” Buck flinched and huffed at her. She stopped when she saw the dwarf standing in the hall, and gaped at him, just letting out a small, uncertain “o-oh...”. The horned dwarf let out a deep sigh, rubbing his brow.

“Please,” He whispered, “Act like I'm any normal guy, I don't want any attention.”

“Yes Your Hi- I mean... yes sir,” Fer replied. It was then Finn remembered those statues in the stairs that Fer took him down, and those horned figures, and he too realized who this was, and it took him a lot of willpower not to gape as well.

“I was just askin' your friend 'Finn' here what he was doin',” The king said, “it is my business to know what powerful mages come in and out of my polis.”

“Sir,” Finn began, but the king aised a hand giving Finn a displeased and annoyed stare.

“Please,” he said, “there's no need for your silly honorifics. Just call me Bolum.”

“Yes, Bolum,” Finn said, taking a deep breath, “... you see, my friend, Omaen, brought me here. We needed a place to stay, and I'm... looking to learn magic.”

Bolum's face turned red, and he widened his eyes, letting out an “oh..” not unlike the one Fer did before.

“So,” Bolum continued, “You aren't the powerful mage i thought you were,” he said, “and that metamorphic spell was from...”

“A potion,” Finn confirmed. He began to wonder how old this king really was. His age was apparent by his face, but his demeanor still showed he was young and unsure, even if he acted wisened.

“I apologize for the misunderstandin',” Fer said, coming out of her stupor of disbelief, “It must have disrupted your work and-” Bolum lifted a hand, and shook his head.

“No, no, quite the opposite,” He said, “ I have had a lot of work of course, but none of it has been... interestin'. There's never any threat and when there is my guards do a good job to de-escalate it. So: when I heard that a mage got through, and no one stopped 'em, I wanted to check myself if there's any threat.”

Oh, Finn thought, He's the king of this place. Of course he wouldn't be the high king of all dwarves...He felt silly for thinking otherwise.

“You were hoping I was a threat?” Finn asked deadpanned.

“I thought it would be interestin' if ya were,” Bolum said, “But I never wish danger upon my people. So no. I'm just... embarrassed I thought you were a wizard.”

“Don't be!” Finn raised his hands, “I'm trying to be one, so I understand.” King Bolum nodded, shifting on the stick Finn saw before. He realized now that it was not a walking stick, but rather a staff, as there was a quartz orb on the top where there would be a handle.

“Though, while I have your attention,” Bolum said. He raised his staff, and with his free hand, he waved his hand around the orb. Finn briefly took note of the fact that the motions the King made were the same ones Fer had taught him minutes earlier. But he barely had time to register that, as the orb began to glow, and the image of the labyrinth around them rippled and changed. Buck let out a startled snort and trotted behind the king.Soon, they were standing in an illusory field below a mountain. The trees rustled above them and a large scaley figure swooped overhead and toward the mountain.

“In a polis about a day and a half of travel from here, there's another king, and there's a dragon.”

“Ya want him to slay a dragon?!” Fer gasped, “but he's only-” Once again Bolum waved a dismissive hand.

“No, no, I want him to catch the dragon.”

“Respectfully,” Finn began, “I feel like that may be more difficult than slaying a dragon. Why get me to do it, anyway? Aren't there more competent adventurers?”

“Because you got no reason to gossip,” He said.

“About what?” Finn asked. Bolum's eyes widened, and he glanced around.

“I can trust you not to say anythin', right?” He asked, Finn raised an eyebrow.

“Sure.”

“Good, then don't say anythin'.” The king waved his hand in the air, as if wafting away thick smoke, and then the illusion disappeared.

“If ya want, we can discuss this quest more with your friends over dinner.”

“Dinner?” Finn asked flatly, “a king is inviting me to dinner?” Bolum shrugged.

“Why not? It will be a nice fun conversation rather than a political squabble. I'm gettin' tired of losin' my appetite due to those conversations.” Fer looked back and forth between the king and Finn in disbelief. Finn gave Fer a confused and perhaps concerned look.”

“Well, I should be on my way,” the king said. “I shall see you tonight. And sorry for wasting your time.” He bowed, and then waved a hand over his orb again, it glowed brightly, and he exploded into flame, which spiraled into a large plume. all at once it disappeared. Finn, Fer, and the minotaur the king had left behind all stood and stared at the empty spot where he stood.

“Well!” Fer shouted, breaking the silence, “That just happened!”

“Yes, yes it did,” Finn said in a small voice. That interaction made Finn forget why he wanted to leave in the first place. Fer motioned him back inside the library and he followed... And so did Buck, who earned a look askance from Finn. Fer noticed this and looked up at the beast and grinned.

“What are you doin' here, bud?” Fer asked in a high pitched voice. Buck's eyes widened, as if he didn't notice he was seen, looked around frantically, and pulled the first book he found off of the shelf, and opened it, holding it close to his snout. Fer chuckled at this and Finn felt a little more at ease, knowing Buck probably wasn't going to do anything wrong. When they sat back down, the minotaur inched across the library, scratching his hooves across the ground, causing loud scraping noises, snout still in the book. Every wizard and scholar looked up, some giving disapproving looks, some giving confused looks until Buck sat down a few seats away from Finn and Fer.

“O-kay,” Fer muttered, “It was hard for me to find a good spell tome that was written in the common tongue. A lot of the ones in here are just in High Dwarven.” She slid the book over to Finn and tapped the blank cover.

“There's some pretty basic spells in here, so let's go ahead and read through them.”

It took a moment for Finn to realize he had to open the book and read it. His mind was still with the king, the magic that he had performed, and with his request: to catch the dragon, and also to meet with him for dinner. It was all absurd. It didn't seem... true. He shook away the thoughts for a moment. flipped to the inside of the book. It was not filled with chapters, nor did it have an index, nor any theory on how magic worked or any advice. The entire book, from front to back, had a description of what a spell does, and how to perform it. He flipped to the front. The first spell listed was “summon fire” which did not sound basic to him in the slightest. There were four tracings he needed to do: the upward vertical line, upward angle, downward vertical line, downward angle. The rest of the instructions... didn't make much sense.

“It's... asking me to silence my mind, and then bend the void?” Finn stated, his voice rising with confusion, “And then... to connect with... what?”

“Just take it one step at a time,” Fer stated, “start with the motions, then try the induction.” Finn delicately took the wand into his left hand and tracing with it using his thumb. He slowly traced upward and downward and shut his eyes. It took Finn a moment to remember 'the induction' was to 'think about nothing.' Now, it was even harder to think about nothing. The king's request kept bouncing in his mind

“I can trust you not to say anythin', right?” He had said, “Good, then don't say anythin'.” Anything about what? About him being present? About what he was yet to see on his adventures? What was the king hiding to the point where he was sending an inexperienced wizard as opposed to an experienced mage or swordsman?

Focus, Finn told himself. He had let himself get distracted again, and thinking about the king wasn't thinking about nothing. He tried to imagine an expansive black void again, but it was too hard to visualize something so big. So, he instead tried imagining this void as a room. an empty room surrounded by walls of his mind. It was much easier to imagine, but he found it accomplished nothing. He sighed, shaking his head, and opening his eyes.

“It's not working,” He mumbled.

“It will take practice,” Fer assured him.

“I don't have time for practice,” Finn complained, “Iggy and Omaen are already so skilled, and what do i have.”

“Nothin',” Fer said.

“Exactly,” Finn huffed, “Nothing.”

“No,” Fer said, smiling, “You have nothin'. Isn't that what you needed?” FInn stared at her.

“Are you being serious right now?” He asked. She made it sound so simple. Sure, he needed to imagine nothing, but how can being unskilled make him a more skilled wizard?

“I understand you're strugglin',” Fer said, “and you have a... very important meeting soon, but I want ya to think about what nothin' is. It might be empty space, or the lack of an idea. Or is there more to what it means? All these questions may sound like a lot of mumbo-jumbo, but ya need to think in a similar way when castin' spells. Ya need to stop thinkin' about things bein' solid as stone.”

Finn thought about that for longer, and pulled the tome toward him more. He wanted to read more and wanted to practice more. Even thought he felt so far away from achieving magic, He felt like he could achieve something if he practiced for longer. But it was well into the evening, his stomach was growling, and the king was waiting.

#fantasy #writing #dwarf #wizard #WIP #Work in progress #Chapter 5 #VERY Long chapter #but I couldn't split it into 2 parts.#sorry #A Dwarf Guards the Sky

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dungeondelving · 1 year

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△ does Morhau like to chug down cum as much as she likes to drink alcohol~?

"Practically speaking that's damn near impossible. Don't think theres a living creature I'd give the honor to that'd have that much in supply if you ken my meaning." The dwarf appeared to be taking this questing a lot more seriously than she needed to. She brought up a hand and began to list off the reasons. "Reason number 1: I can down 5 kegs of your manling alcohol before I even get slightly buzzed. So that'd be a lot of cum there lad. Unless you were talking about proper dwarven drink, in which case thats a fair mite more manageable I'd say." The rest of the Cyan Comets watched from the side as they saw their dwarven friend get going. Hama and Gloria shaking their head and going back to their drink while Ragni gave a thumbs up "Reason number 2: I've known wizards in my time that have tried to give themselves 'infinite ammo'. Never goes well from what I've heard. Don't trust magic unless it comes from the ancestors or runes thats my advice." Morhau brought up a third finger and was going to continue before she stopped, looking up in the air, almost as if some invisible thing had caught her attention. She spoke, as if in the middle of a conversation. "Really?....No I don't mean any offense but....well I suppose....ran off ya say?...Rightey, well thank ya." She looked back down and put her hands on her hips "Right so it turns out my ancestor Havamire had an on again off again relationship with a jotun. She says the coward ran back up north after she 'emptied the keg' one too many times. So, suppose it is a whole lot more logistically possible then I thought." She reached down and pulled out a silver coin, tossing it over. "Here lad, buy yourself a drink. I got some things to think over and then I'll get back to ya.

#Morhau

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rhysiana · 2 years

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The recent photos of Zhu Yilong as a conductor have now converged in my mind with the “use conductors as art ref if you want to draw a wizard” post to yield: Shen Wei who is both a symphony conductor and a wizard of some stripe in an old-school urban fantasy story.*

*(By old-school I mean before the genre turned into exclusively magical mysteries. Which I love, but I miss stories about normal people who suddenly discovered magic in the mundane world.)

Zhao Yunlan, meanwhile, is working a boring, normal office job at a boring, normal office with (mostly) boring, normal co-workers that he knows he got mostly through nepotism but he tries not to think about it too hard. His life is just... a life.

One day, Zhu Hong demands he take her to the symphony. He’s told her he’s not interested, but... She stomps her foot and scowls at him and says she wants a reason to get dressed up and go somewhere without looking like she’s there alone. And also he needs to be more cultured.

Da Qing (co-worker and also roommate, unfortunately) gives him a smirk over the cubicle divider that says he’s going to get endless crap about this at home unless he agrees, so he does. With only the most token of dramatic protests, he might add!

He dutifully gets dressed up and escorts Zhu Hong in her terrifying heels into the concert hall, and it’s nice. Pleasant. A fine way to spend an evening. (One. One evening.) He wonders if there will be drinks at the intermission.

He glances at the program and idly notes the conductor has a rather handsome headshot, but everyone looks good in professional photos, that's the point of them. (He’s looking directly at the camera though. Very compelling. Good job, anonymous photographer.)

The musicians take their places and go through the motions of tuning. The conductor walks out and bows formally. Zhao Yunlan settles back in his seat, making sure his position is stable enough that it won't be noticeable if he takes a little nap.

He does not take a little nap. The music starts and the conductor comes ALIVE. His presence becomes absolutely magnetic. Zhao Yunlan is riveted the whole time. If asked later, he would have very little to say about the music and a lot to say about shoulders and hands and arm movement. He applauds so enthusiastically at the end Zhu Hong looks a little concerned.

He barely notices, practically floating out of the hall in a daze. They don’t actually live near each other, so he gallantly sees her into a car before heading to the subway station. It’s there he realizes his transit pass has fallen out of his pocket somewhere. Stupid suit! Pockets in all the wrong places for his actual needs.

He heads back to the concert hall, only to find the lobby dark, doors shut. He wanders around the side, hoping for another door he can rattle. Surely at least the cleaning crew is still here? Did all the musicians really pack up that quickly? Some of those instruments were rather large. Maybe they just leave them here?

He’s so lost in his usual chaos of thoughts that he doesn't notice someone else in the alley with him until he gets shoved into a wall. “Hey!” he exclaims, turning, and then belatedly realizes the shadowy stranger is attempting to mug him.

Normally, he’d like to clarify to the universe, he’d be more prepared. His messenger bag is overfull and very heavy and thus makes for a very nice weapon, and he wears shoes with far better tread. So of course this happens while he’s in a suit and dress shoes, empty-handed.

All of this runs through his head in the 10 seconds before a door suddenly opens right behind him (where he’s very sure there was not a door) and a smooth voice, in a very not-mad-just-disappointed tone, says, “We’ve talked about this. My territory. Off limits.”

There’s an impression of very large, very sharp teeth from the shadows of the other guy's hood, and then LIGHTNING streaks over Zhao Yunlan’s shoulder and hits him right in the chest, hurling him down the alley. He springs up, hisses at them, and runs off.

“What the--?” he starts, and turns around to find the conductor standing in front of the door that wasn't there. "Uh. Hi there," he says instead with a little wave, because he is incredibly suave in all circumstances.

The conductor looks amused, in an incredibly understated way. Like, probably no one else could tell kind of way, but Zhao Yunlan is sure. “Hello,” he says back with a little head bow. “Would you care to come in? Were you looking for something?”

And that is how Zhao Yunlan, of the boring, normal office job, meets Shen Wei, conductor and sorcerer, and despite the fact his routine doesn't change much, his life is never boring and normal again.

(ZYL: “Conductor by day, sorcerer by night!”

SW: “Actually, I believe that’s backwards, since the conducting happens mostly in the evening unless it’s a matinee, while the sorcery is all the time.”)

#conductor!shen wei #mundane!zhao yunlan #weilan #guardian #rhys's stuff #things I write on twt at 1am for some reason

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beels-burger-babe · 3 years

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All is Fair in Dice and War

***Soooo, @bagelsinatoaster I love this request. However, you didn't specify which board game and as I am a huge nerd I decided to take some creative liberties and combine this with another idea I've been meaning to write which is: MC introducing the demon bros to Dungeons and Dragons. I certainly had fun with this and I hope you like it!*** Summary: Leviathan's world is flipped upside down when MC tells him there is a game that basically allows him to be the Lord of Shadows in real life!! He demands that his brothers join him as MC introduces them all to the chaotic shit show that is Dungeons & Dragons. For once, it was a peaceful day in the House of Lamentation. Lucifer was lounging in the living room with a cursed record playing softly in the background. For once, Satan had willingly joined him and was sitting by the fireplace, thumbing through a book on the human world. Belphie had been passed out on the couch when he arrived and was still laying there with an impressive puddle of drool collecting near his mouth. Even Asmodeus and Beel had joined in, with Asmodeus gently humming to himself as he painted his nails and Beelzebub happily munching on a snack as he enjoyed the sight of his family getting along. Yes. It was perfectly quiet and peaceful, and Lucifer didn't even have any traces of his regular migraine. But of course, nothing good lasts forever. Everyone jumped as the door slammed open and a wide-eyed Leviathan dragged you into the room. The two you very closely followed by Mammon loudly complaining. "Oi! You're gonna hurt them! Cut it out, Levi!" Lucifer sighed and closed his eyes, momentarily mourning the peace that he had just barely begun to enjoy, and closed his book. "Leviathan, let MC go. What are you freaking out about this time?" Lucifer regretted asking the moment the words left his mouth. Levi looked at it with the expression he only ever got when his limited edition Ruri-Chan merch arrived; his eyes were wide and glittering with excitement while his face bore a grin so large that Lucifer was surprised it didn't rip his skin. The third-born was practically vibrating as he let go of your wrist and pushed you forward. "Tell them! Tell them about the game!"

You laughed at Levi's excitement and casually rubbed your wrist. "I was just telling Leviathan about a game that we play in the human world called Dungeons and Dragons-" "You get to make a fantasy world that everyone plays in, and everyone makes characters. You can be a wizard and cast spells against a huge monster! Or a war hero fighter that has been betrayed by his brother! Or a noble knight who is looking for his lost kingdom! And the best part is that it's real!" Levi interrupted, nearly jumping in place as stars danced in his eyes. You put your hands out towards him to try and calm him a bit. "Well, not entirely real. It is played in person, but it's a role play tabletop game, meaning it mostly relies on the players' imagination. That is unless you have thousands of dollars to spend on 3D maps and figurines of your characters." Levi's eyes grew even wider, if possible, as he started shaking his hands up and down. "I CAN HAVE A FIGURINE OF A CHARACTER THAT I MADE?! GAAAAAAAAAHH!" A pillow flew across the room and hit Levi square in the face as a now awake Belphegor glared at him. "Will. You. Shut. Up?" the Avatar of Sloth hissed as a dark dangerous aura grew around him. Beel gently patted his twin's head in hopes of calming him. Leviathan pouted as he noticed no one else seemed to be getting excited about it. "C-Come on guys! This isn't even a video game! It's a thing that we can all do together and personalize it to be something that everyone will like. It'll be fun! Right MC?" You nodded as you gently tossed Belphie's pillow back over to him. "Yeah. I love D&D. I played it all the time in the human world. There's action, suspense, and even romance if you really wanted it," a couple of the brothers perked up at that. "I could put together a one-shot for you guys to try it out if you'd like? I'll help you make your characters, and we can all get together for an evening and play it sometime in a couple weeks." The room went quiet as everyone thought it over. Most of them had no interest in the game itself, but if it was organized by you... "I'm in," Beel decided with a nod. "I think it will be fun. All of us trying something new; it could be neat." Satan casually flipped a page in his book, "The creative aspect of it is definitely appealing. We'd be the masters of our own fate, and that most certainly piques my interest." Asmodeus smirked as he put the cap on his nail polish. "And you said it could be whatever we want? My, one might say that this game could help our wildest fantasies come true~" he made sure to wink at you as he giggled. Belphie, who had only just got back his pillow, scrunched up his face in disgust and launched it at Asmo. "Don't make this weird Asmo," he looked over at you and shrugged, "So long as you do all the work in putting together the character thing, sure. Why not?" Mammon looked over at you from the corner of his eye. "Ya mean to tell me, that you can make it so I'm some awesome, rich, and powerful prince?" Asmo scoffed as he pushed the pillow off his lap. "Please Mammon, even the world of make-believe has its limitations." Mammon blushed as he growled at his brother. You just chuckled and teasingly elbowed his side. "Don't listen to him, Mammon. There is a set amount of how much money you start out with depending on your class and background, but I'm sure we can find something that will make you happy." The second-born blushed even more as he grumbled quietly under his breath. Lucifer tilted his head in thought. "I suppose that if everyone else is playing, naturally I must as well," he stood and began to make his way to his office. "I look forward to seeing what you come up with MC." The next two weeks were spent planning and carefully figuring out the details of the one-shot and the characters that everyone was going to play. Levi was, of course, the first one who came to you to build his character. The two of you spent hours going through the Player's Handbook and sourcebooks to find the perfect build to recreate the Lord of Shadows. In the end, you put

together a human fighter that you gave a couple magic items to make Levi's vision really come to life. It seemed basic, but for the Lord of Shadows, it was perfect. The moment the two of you finished, Levi dove to his computer and ordered a custom-made mini that looked exactly like his character. Satan was genuinely interested in the game, especially after he learned about all the lore and rules behind the different classes and races. You had just been chilling in your room one day when the door burst open. Satan stood there with wide eyes holding a copy of Volo's Guide to Monsters. "MC, why didn't you tell me there are cat people?!" You chuckled, knowing exactly where this was going. "They're called tabaxi, but yeah, they're basically cat people. Would you like to play as one?" He scoffed and snapped the book shut. "Is that even a question? Of course, I'm playing as one." After some discussion and bouncing back and forth between classes a couple of times, Satan settled on a tabaxi druid; that way he not only looked like a cat, but he could speak to them as well. After a few days of you spending time with his brothers focusing on getting their characters ready, Mammon came to you wanting the coolest, most epic character ever. At first, it was clear that he wasn't fully invested in the process, but as he saw the customizable options and all the cool stuff that his character could have, you got his attention. You ended up designing a golden teifling rogue (you tried to tell Mammon that teifling usually wasn't yellow, but he gave you such a sad look that you couldn't say no) that was decked out with piercings and gems all over its horns and tail. He tried to act like he wasn't that excited about it, but one day during class you caught him doodling what looked like a stick figure version of the character on his sheet with a big smile on his face. Asmodeus came in shortly after Mammon finished,

insisting on having the most charming and beautiful character there was. You tapped your chin at the request. "I mean, stereotypically bards are extremely charming and...well seductive...almost too seductive. But that's only thei-" Asmo had hearts in his eyes before you could even finish. "That's what I want to be!" You sighed and made a mental note not to include any dragons in the session as you marked Asmo down to be an elven bard and helped him create his character sheet. You hadn't heard anything from Lucifer for nearly that entire first week, until one day as you were lounging in the living room, he walked in holding a stack of resource books. "Ah, MC. I've been looking for you. I wanted to inform you that I will be playing a half-elf multiclassing as a paladin and hex-blade warlock." You blinked at him as he put all the books down in front of you. "O-Oh. Would you like help putting together your character sheet?" He just grinned and began to make his way out of the room once more. "I've already done it. I must admit that this was quite a bit more interesting than I thought it would be," and with that he was gone, leaving you to try and figure out what had just happened. With only a few days left until the one-shot, you had to go find the twins and get them to make their characters. Beel apologized like crazy for you having to track him in down in order to get his character made. The poor guy was in the middle of peak Fangol season and had completely forgotten. Once the two of you sat down in the kitchen with an empty character sheet in one hand and snacks in the other, Beel gave you his full attention. He put a lot of thought in his character and wanted to make it really good since he appreciated that you were doing something that they could all do as a family. He bashfully decided to play a halfling. Not only did the little creatures share his love for food, but he thought it would be neat to try being small for once. His class was also a surprise. After carefully flipping through all of the class options, he had eventually settled on a cleric. "They're the healers, right? This way I can help the others if someone gets hurt." You gave him a huge hug then and there. Belphegore, on the other hand, was not so easy to work with. "Belphie, come on. Just flip through the book and choose something!" He groaned into his pillow and rolled onto his side to glare at you. "I told you I would play if you did all the work for me. Me flipping through a book is work. It's not happening." After an entire hour of trying to get him to cooperate, you gave up. In retaliation you made his character a goblin barbarian, just to drive in the fact of how much of a brat he was acting like.

Finally, the day came for you all to play the one-shot, and much like you expected, it was complete and utter chaos. You had tried to maintain some structure and keep everyone on track, but it was hopeless. Levi and Satan were taking the game seriously and, Diavolo bless them, were the only reason their party was making any progress. Mammon was trying to pick-pocket every non-player character that they met while Asmo distracted them by flirting. This worked great for them until Mammon got caught and would've died from the resulting injuries if it wasn't for Beel. Speaking of Beel, the poor fella was trying his best to do well in the game but kept getting confused by all the rules and different stats and modifiers. Belphegor spent most of his time, trying to explain it to his twin, but in the end, Beel accidentally ate his dice and Belphie passed out on his shoulder. And then there was Lucifer. He had been mostly quiet the entire game. Surprisingly, he let Levi and Satan take the charge in any investigations and puzzle-based interactions, but he did so with a smirk. You had a funny feeling in your stomach that he was up to something, and you were right. It was the final boss. Satan and Levi were on the edge of their seats, having worked so hard to get the party to this point. You smiled, knowing that one of the best parts of D&D was finally taking down the big bad. In this case, you had prepared a beholder for them to fight. It would be no easy task. The fight should have required them to work together in an epic battle of wits, magic and melee attacks. Only, when everyone rolled initiative, Lucifer went first. The eldest smiled as his eyes sparked menacingly. "For my bonus action, I'd like to use my hex blade's curse on it, which allows me to add my plus four proficiency bonus to all damage, and makes any rolls of nineteen or twenty critical hits. I will then use my long sword with divine smite at third level to attack him and attack him again using my extra attack," barely giving you time to process what he said, Lucifer rolled his dice twice. "And that would be a nineteen and a natural twenty, meaning they're both criticals due to the curse. That should hit, yes?" "Wha-" You could only watch as Lucifer, now with twice the amount of damage due to his critical rolls pulled out a disgusting number of dice and rolled them all. And of course, with his luck, they all rolled high. "So that's 90 points of damage plus the extra damage from the curse and the bonus from my duelist ability per attack, brings this 102 points," he smugly perched his chin on top of his hands as the table gaped at him. You gulped and looked down at the beholder's character sheet, "Y-You just took o-over half of his hit points in one round..." His grin widened at the information, "What, like it's hard?" You never got the chance to finish the game, as Satan burst into his demon form and pounced on Lucifer, the eldest laughing like a mad man, while Levi tore up his character sheet in a fit of jealous rage. Levi never asked to play with everyone again after that. ***This was just so self-indulgent and I just- I loved it. It combined two of my favourite things and I have never been happier. This was more crack than fluff, but either way, it was fun and I hope you nerds out there enjoyed it 🥰 Thanks again for the request @bagelsinatoaster!*** Taglist: @mimik248 @roseytoesy @ester-is-here

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