#Corrupt wizards

[ur-local-wizard]

Ruin You

Mattheo Riddle, an incubus, is used to getting his way. But when he falls for you --the one girl immune to his charms -- and learns of your innocence, he's overcome with the want to ruin you for anyone else.

MDNI! corruption kink, praise, fingering, unprotected piv, semi-public sex, creampie, loss of virginity, incubus!mattheo x fem!reader, I am not responsible for your media consumption

w/c: 1.6k

in response to this request!

masterlist au list

a/n: first smut ever!! I hope this lives up to all the expectations! <3

Seduction came to Mattheo Riddle as if it was his mother tongue – natural, unhurried. He knew exactly what to say, how to say it, and the way to angle his smirk just right to make people weak in the knees. His smile was devastating, his voice rich and deep, his touch always featherlight yet never failing to leave a scorching heat behind. He thrived off sexual innuendos, his existence woven into every fantasy and every intimate thought that flitted through every mind.

But you seemed to be immune to his charms.

Remaining blissfully ignorant to his attempts, you somehow escaped every interaction with the demon entirely untouched by the sin that dripped from his lips. It was confusing, infuriating, yet somehow intoxicating; only serving to make him thirst for more. 

“You know,” he purred, leaning closer to where you sat in the common room. “If you ever need help with anything, I’m here. You only have to ask.” 

You blinked up at him, and a wholesome smile spread across your lips. “That’s so sweet of you, Matty. You’re such a good friend.” 

He nearly choked on his own spit at your response. Friend? He was a literal demon of temptation and desire, and yet you thought his actions were friendly? 

His flirtations only escalated after that. Every smirk, wink, lingering touch, was only met with a beaming smile or polite nod. You were a puzzle, a challenge. He wanted to figure you out – to understand how to get his message across. And yet he found himself drawn to you in other ways; ones that weren’t driven solely by physical need.

Then he heard the rumors.

He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. He was just drinking at a party like usual, when he heard Pansy’s voice. “Y/n’s a virgin? Makes sense I guess. But with a face like that, I expected more,” he heard her say. 

He felt the world tilt for a moment, and not from the alcohol he was drinking. Everything in him was screaming, the depraved part of him clawing at the edges of his restraint. A virgin. Pure. Untouched.

His body ached at the thought, and the demonic part of him longed to find you and corrupt you, defile you. But the last thing he wanted was for you to see him as he was – a monster, a predator, a creature of hunger and lust. He wanted you desperately, needed you even, but he would never force anything on you.

For the first time in his life, Mattheo Riddle was at a complete loss for what to do.

Although it was difficult, Mattheo tried to distance himself after that revelation. He told himself that it was for your own good, that you were better off without him, that he would ruin you if he got too close. 

But the more he resisted, the more unbearable the distance from you became. He still heard your laugh echoing throughout the corridors, still caught glimpses of you in the Great Hall, still felt the echo of your innocent touches that lingered, their memory like a brand seared into his skin. 

However, you noticed the change in his behavior almost instantly, and began to wonder if you’d done something wrong.

“Matty?” You asked one day, your voice soft and uncertain. You’d caught him just after curfew, when everyone was meant to be heading to their dorms. “Are you mad at me? Have I done something?” 

Mattheo’s fists clenched at his sides, not able to stand the way your doe eyes were filled with guilt and concern. No fear, no anger, no suspicion, just pure and genuine worry. It broke his heart, and he had to look away. “No angel, you didn’t do anything.” 

You tilted your head in confusion, and your brows furrowing. “Then why have you been avoiding me?” 

His mouth floundered as he searched for something to say. What could he possibly say that wouldn’t scare you? That wouldn’t hurt you? Yet he couldn’t bring himself to lie either. “You wouldn’t understand,” he muttered, giving a non-answer while shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Then explain it to me,” you said, looking up at him expectantly.

Finally, his eyes meet yours. You stood firm, gaze unwavering, arms crossed over your chest. The sight of you, so determined, so concerned, made him snap. 

“You drive me mad, you know that? Every time you smile at me, every goddamn touch, makes me go absolutely insane. I want you so bad… I wanna ruin you for anyone else.

“So? Who said I didn’t feel the same way, Matty?”

He stared at you in utter disbelief. “But all the hints I threw-” 

“Yeah, I get those now,” you grumble. “After I realize you share the same feelings. I just… didn’t want to assume.” 

He scoffs and takes a step closer. “So you want this too?” 

As soon as you nod, he’s on you. His lips crashed against yours, desperate and hungry, his fingers tangling in your hair, tugging lightly, as he backed you against the wall. One hand slid to the small of your back, pressing you flush against him, and you could feel his desire pressing against you. The kiss was fervent, full of pent-up desire, yet beneath the urgency there was tenderness. 

“You don’t know what you do to me,” he whispered between kisses, his breath hot on your skin. “I’ve wanted this for so long. You’re so fucking perfect.” 

His hands were warm as they slid under your shirt, pushing it up and over your head. Your bra was next, falling away to meet your shirt, and you should have been mortified of being so exposed in the common room. But you couldn't find it in yourself to care. Not when his touch ignited something within you that you never knew was there, not when his lips brushed against your ear, whispering sweet praises that made your stomach tighten with need.

His own shirt was next, falling into the growing pile of clothes forgotten on the floor. Hands finding your hips, he spun you around, and you immediately braced yourself against the wall. The stone was hard and cold against your hands, and the cold air of the common room caused your nipples to pebble. His touch drifted down your back, before slipping under your skirt to rub against your core. Letting out a gasp of surprise, your hips jolted towards his touch, earning a soothing hum from the man behind you.

“I’ll be gentle, okay? So fucking gentle,” he murmured as he moved your panties to the side. Two fingers slipped inside your cunt with ease, earning a whine from you. 

“Fuck. You're so tight. So wet,” he groaned as he curled his fingers, hitting that spongy spot that made you see stars. “I really am the only one to touch you like this? Gonna be the first and last, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you moaned, head falling forward as a knot started to form in your belly.

His fingers picked up their pace, pumping and curling just right, just enough to drive you dangerously close to the edge. “I want you to promise, angel. Promise me I’ll be the only one to ever see this beautiful pussy of yours.” 

You nodded enthusiastically, but that didn't satisfy him. Right as you were about to finish, he tore his hand away from you, leaving you teetering on the brink. The loss and emptiness made you whimper, but when you heard him unbuckling his belt, anticipation replaced the frustration. The suspense made you tense, your thighs pressing together in search of relief.

The head of his cock brushed against your entrance, teasing, but he didn't move. “I want to hear you say it. Promise me, angel.”

“I promise,” you whined, growing impatient from the loss of sensation. You wanted him desperately.

That was all he needed to hear, his hips surging forward, thrusting into you with one swift motion. A choked gasp escaped your lips, the stretch making you wince. He stilled, letting you adjust, though his grip on your hips tightened like he was barely holding himself back.

“So fucking perfect,” he groaned, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. Your fingers curled against the wall, and when you started to squirm, he took that as a hint to move. His first thrust was slow, gentle. It was your first time after all. But eventually his restraint snapped. His rhythm was deep and deliberate, fucking into you as if this was the last thing he'd ever do.

One hand snaked around your body to rub tight circles on your clit that made your knees buckle. He caught you, keeping you upright as his pace never faltered. 

“Feel so good. Like you were made for me,” he moans, his voice raw. 

His continued ministrations made pressure build once again, white-hot pleasure beginning to curl insistently in your stomach. You could feel it, the inevitable, and his increasingly erratic movements were a tell-tale sign that he was close too. 

“Come for me,” he whispered, coaxing you. “Prove to me how perfectly you were made for me.”

Pleasure crashed over you, blinding and all-consuming. You tightened and fluttered around him, eliciting a guttural moan from deep within his throat. He followed soon after, burying himself deep with a groan. 

For a moment, neither of you moved, lost in the shock of what had just happened. Then he pulled out and turned you around, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. 

“You did perfect, just like I knew you would.”

tag list: @mattyriddlesbitch @sturniolover13 @thereeallink @voidangxls @riddleswhcre @riddleshire

[messiahzzz]

it’s been almost a year now… is the bg3 fandom finally ready to talk about how gale’s “hubris” is the sole product of actively feeding his insecurities further and straight up denying him help & guidance when he was at his lowest and needed it most. it’s not one of his core traits and never was. he isn’t some closeted power hungry monster that is just waiting to be enabled. what he wants is admiration, recognition and acceptance. which is also what he sought from mystra before the orb disaster happened. he had no desire whatsoever to become a god himself or challenge her rule, he simply wanted to be seen as sufficient in her eyes (“to serve her better”). to be as equal as he could possibly be in a relationship with a literal deity. he has a deep passion for magic and knowledge that affects almost all areas of his life and enjoys the display thereof. he wants to be the smartest person in the room and enjoys when his work is recognized. he may be perceived as arrogant when it comes to his skill, but he IS NOT hubristic. it truly takes so little for him to be wholly content.

[reality-detective]

Something To Think About 👇

UNDERSTANDING: "THE WIZARD OF OZ"

"The Wizard of Oz = The Crown Temple. This is not a mere child's story written by L. Frank Baum.

What symbol does "Oz" stand for?

Ounces... Gold.

What is the yellow brick road?

Bricks or ingot bars of gold.

The character known as the Straw Man represents that fictitious ALL CAPS legal fiction a PERSON - the Government created with the same spelling as your Christian birth name.

Remember what the Straw Man wanted from the Wizard of Oz? A brain! No legal fiction has a brain because they have no breath of life!

What did he get in place of a brain? A Certificate. A Birth Certificate for a new legal creation. He was proud of his new legal status, plus all the other legalisms he was granted. Now he becomes the true epitome of the brainless sack of straw who was given a Certificate in place of a brain of common sense.

What about the Tin Man?

Does Taxpayer Identification Number (TIN) mean anything to you?

The poor TIN Man just stood there mindlessly doing his work until his body literally froze up and stopped functioning. He worked himself to death because he had no heart nor soul. He's the heartless and emotionless creature robotically carrying out his daily task as if he was already dead. He's the ox pulling the plough and the mule toiling under the yoke. His masters keep him cold on the outside and heartless on the inside in order to control any emotions or heart he may get a hold of.

The pitiful Cowardly Lion was always too frightened to stand up for himself.

Of course, he was a bully and a big mouth when it came to picking on those smaller than he was. They act as if they have great courage, but they really have none at all. All roar with no teeth of authority to back them up. When push came to shove, the Cowardly Lion always buckled under and whimpered when anyone of any size or stature challenged him. He wanted courage from the Grand Wizard, so he was awarded a medal of "official" recognition. Now, regardless of how much of a coward he still was, his official status made him a bully with officially recognized authority. He's just like the Attorneys who hide behind the Middle Courts of the Temple Bar.

What about the trip through the field of poppies? They weren't real people, so drugs had no effect on them.

The Wizard of Oz was written at the turn of the century, so how could the author have known America was going to be drugged? The Crown has been playing the drug cartel game for centuries. Just look up the history of Hong Kong and the Opium Wars. The Crown already had valuable experience conquering all of China with drugs, so why not the rest of the world?

Who finally exposed the Wizard for what he really was?

Toto, the ugly (or cute, depending on your perspective) and somewhat annoying little dog. Toto means "in total, all together; Latin in toto." Notice how Toto was not scared of the Great Wizard's theatrics, yet he was so small in size compared to the Wizard, no-one seemed to notice him. The smoke, flames and hologram images were designed to frighten people into doing as the Great Wizard of Oz commanded. Toto simply went over, looked behind the curtain - the court - (see the definition for curtain above), saw it was a scam, and started barking until others paid attention to him and came to see what all the barking was about.

Just an ordinary person controlling the levers that created the illusions of the Great Wizard's power and authority. The veil hiding the corporate legal fiction and its false courts were removed. The Wizard's game was up.

It's too bad that people don't realize just how loud a bark from a little dog is. What about your bark? No matter how small your bark is - it can be heard.

Do you just remain silent and wait to be given whatever food and recognition, IF any, your legal slave master gives you?

Are you going to continue to follow the script by what they command of you? You are NOT a puppet so when they pull the levers to create their False Flags/Black Swan Events...

Ask: "Where is YOUR bark?" 🤔

What scares them? A "Pack of Dogs" removing the veil and all barking together, then the evil cowards will back down. They definitely do NOT want ALL of US standing TOGETHER barking.

[winwin17]

An exchange between Gandalf and Saruman, probably.

[torchwood-99]

"'...How long is it since Saruman bought you? What was the promised price? When all the men were dead, you were to pick your share of the treasure, and take the woman you desire? Too long have you watched her under your eyelids and haunted her steps.'"

Gandalf to Grima, The King of the Golden Hall

Never forgetting that the reason Grima Wormtongue turned to Saruman was because he was lured in with the promise of being able to rape Eowyn. Eowyn was offered to him like bait and he took it.

Wormtongue was a monster before he turned to Saruman. A man with basic decency doesn't turn traitor because he was offered the chance to force an unwilling woman to marry him.

[forcefemdemonprincess]

I finished a little fantasy themed short story I've been cooking up for the last few days, with lots of corruption and forcefem kinks, if anyone wants to give it a read!

One ordinary day, I sense something reaching out to me, from the faraway depths of the material plane; the feeble presence of a summoning spell, beckoning me towards it's caster. It would be simple to ignore the call, yet as my curiosity gets the best of me, I deign to answer, following the thread of conjuration magic to it's source.

My senses take in the sight of a stone tower, a summoning circle scribed upon the very center of the floor, the candles surrounding it flickering with a faint orange flame. Beyond it there is a wooden work desk and chair, a simple bed, and walls covered in bookshelves, all with disorganized tomes and scrolls strewn about; and a large window on either side through which the starlight shines in a moonless night, curtains billowing in the breeze.

Standing before the circle stands a half-elven wizard, seeming to be in his twenties in human years - though elven blood makes it difficult to ascertain, he could be anywhere from two decades to a couple centuries old - with short brown hair and the lithe, frail frame of a scholar and a smooth face with rather comely features. He chants the summoning spell, his voice filled with uncertainty as he slowly sounds out the incantation as if the words were alien to his lips.

And they likely are. Far from an archmage of yore, the young man seems to have little more skill than a mediocre apprentice. The binding runes around the summoning circle, meant to keep the caster safe and the fiend contained, are all written incorrectly, not that it would have worked with a demon of my caliber to begin with. Even the spellbook he holds is old, certainly passed down to his hands by another, perhaps a mentor or loving relative.

The candles flicker, then go out entirely. The wizard stops his chanting and takes a step back startled, and slowly I rise from the summoning circle. I choose a relatively nonthreatening form, a scantily clad, mostly human-looking woman, save for the pink skin, curved horns, and a thin tail which ends in a heart shape. The candles light up again, their flames painting the room a bright, pink hue.

He immediately looks surprised, as if he'd never expected his spell to work to begin with, but once the shock has passed, he speaks in a shaky voice:

"I-I am the mage Theodoros! I bind you to my service, o' fiend!"

It takes great effort to stifle the urge to laugh. Not only did the fool forget to put up wards or use any binding spells to speak of - not that it would have mattered - he made the oldest beginner's mistake in the book and told a demon his name, not to mention his utter lack of confidence and authority, the wizard paints a laughable picture.

Yet, it's been so long since I've had a mortal plaything to toy with... And this one is so cute and pathetic I simply must have him. And thus, I decide to play along:

"Of course... Master," I smirk deviously. His ecstatic grin makes it clear the half-elf holds no suspiscion of my subterfuge whatsoever. His naivete is baffling, truly. "What is it you desire? Power? Knowledge of dark, forbidden spells? Or are you simply looking to fulfill your wordly lusts?"

The adorable blush of embarrassment that quickly takes over his pale cheeks at the mere suggestion of sex is almost enough to make this worth it already. Virgins are especially fun to break.

"Uh, the spells and power, yes." He calms himself with deep breaths. "I want to become a powerful archmage."

"And you decided to take a shortcut, did you? Very intelligent. Why slave away over dusty old tomes if you can drink directly from the fountain."

He smiles wide at but a few honeyed words. "Exactly! You get it. Well then... Go ahead and uhm, make me stronger. With your demon magic and all."

"Gladly. Could you give me your hand, for but a moment?"

"What? Hells no, I'm not letting a demon touch me, that sounds far too dangerous!" Oh, now he's thinking about risks and consequences. I almost roll my eyes.

I pout. "Come now, it's only through contact that I could lend you my power. Besides! I'm bound to your service, remember? I couldn't harm you if I wanted to."

"Oh... That's true. Alright, do it." He extends his hand, as if for a handshake. I grasp it tightly, and pull him closer into the summoning circle, nearly making him trip, and bring his hand to my lips. They sear with infernal flames, branding a lipstick mark into the flesh of the back of his hand despite how he whimpers and uselessly tries to pull it away.

Before he can issue any further complaint, the blissful heat and raw strength of my demonic mana flows into his being, making him gasp, his eyes momentarily flashing a bright pink hue and his dick becoming painfully hard, his size... Unremarkable. Slightly below average, perhaps.

"I... I thought you said you couldn't harm me." Theodoros says, out of breath.

"Oh, don't be such a baby... A little bit of pain is no harm at all. Quite the opposite, in fact! Don't you feel it?"

"I feel... Hot?" He raises his hands, the tip of his fingers shimmering, brimming with arcane might.

"Go on, try it out!" I grin.

He walks over to a large window that leads to a balcony, trembling with anticipation. He extends his hands, and an unending torrent of fuchsia colored hellfire, hot enough to melt steel, erupts up into the air. He laughs maniacally, drunk with the power and the demonic magic seeping into his body and mind from the infernal brand on his hand. The lustful magic overtakes him, and his concentration in the spell is broken as he orgasms on the spot.

"Hah... I only ever managed to make sparks and light candles before. This is incredible!" He says, with a giddy smile and an unfocused gaze.

"And it's only the beginning," I reply with a smirk as he walks back to me.

"What more can you teach me?" He asks excitedly.

"Oh, plenty. You can manipulate hellfire, bend minds, change into whatever shape you like... And that's not even mentioning the libraries worth of knowledge I've accrued over the years."

"That's... Fucking hells, that's everything I wanted and more." His chest heaves up and down, the adrenaline not going down in the slightest... Nor does his raging arousal. "Can you... Do something about this?" He asks, pointing to the tent in his robes, which refuses to go down despite him already having finished once.

"Oh, plenty! Why don't you come over here and let me show you?"

"I meant more... Just make it stop? With magic or something? It's driving me mad!"

"It's a side effect of demonic magic. I can't make it go away... But I can help relieve you of it in a more direct, and much more pleasurable manner." I say, sliding aside the strap that holds my upper garments to my shoulder, revealing one of my beautifully shaped breasts, while pumping more arousal through his brand. "Just let me out of this summoming circle and I'll show you," I say, dropping the other strap to let my chest bare in it's entorety for his viewing pleasure. I could step out of the circle any time I wanted, but it's far more delicious to make him submit willingly to my whims.

"Hhrn... Alright, fine!" He walks over and rubs his sole on the chalk circle, opening a passage. I step through and put my hand on his chest, giving him a slight push against the wall before pressing my lips to his, forcing a delicious throaty moan out of him as I press my body into him.

My longue, forked tongues explores his mouth, swirling around his in a long, sloppy kiss, grabbing onto his ass roughly enough go make him squeal again. He eventually pushes me off to gasp for air, a strand of saliva lewdly connecting our mouths.

"Mo... More..." He pleads in a breathy voice. "I want to fuck you." He nearly growls, consumed with lust.

"As you wish," I say with a grin, and touch his forehead. With a flash of light the mage is teleported onto the bed, his clothes dropping onto the floor where he stood.

I slowly walks towards the bed, taking off the rest of my garments, making him writhe with anticipation as my curvy, hourglass shaped frame comes into view. I run my hand along my smooth pink skin as I get on the bed, getting between his legs.

He bites his thick, luscious lips as I lick his length from shaft to tip, nearly shooting his load then and there, before I hold it down with a bit of magic. Not yet.

I take his tip in my mouth, wrapping my lips tightly around it and swirling my tongue, feeling the cutie wizard get all wet for me with his pre. I suck aggressively hard, making him moan and twitch and give pathetic little bucks of his hips into my mouth as it envelops his unimpressive member completely.

I make him ride on that very edge of release for countless minutes each stretching on to feel like hour, watching him melt and turn into a writhing, mewling mess, trying everything, from thrusting his hips, to grabbing my horns to try and push me away, all to no avail, until he's barely forming coherent sentences, begging and pleading with tears in his eyes.

When I suddenly pull it out of my lips and release the spell, letting him drench himself in his seed in a mind-numbing orgasm that goes on and on endlessly, the wizard's wjole body shaking and spasming, howling moans escaping his throat.

Each spurt of his seed, that becomes increasingly thin and watery the longer his peak goes on, drains his already somewhat petite member slowly of it's size. When it subdues at last, he's lost about half of it, and with it, you can clearly see how his body and face have gotten softer, his hips wider, waist slimmer, and nipples puffier as his chest begins to form into breasts. His irises begin to glow with that unnatural pink glow from before, and two small pointy protrusions begin to subtly grow along the sides of his head.

Theodoros is, however, too much of a giggly, horny mess at this point to notice, let alone care. "His" eyes half-lidded and a giddy, drooling grin rests on the "man's" lips, nary a coherent thought in the mage's mind... Yet that diminutive dick remains hard, hips bucking needily. Theo's eyes find mine with a pleading look, and the slut manages to speak, in a moany voice:

"Ple... Please..."

I smirk wide, straddling the weak-willed wizard, and letting their now diminutive dick enter me. The pleasure of having it in me as I start riding it is negligible, but the delight and satisfaction of watching this pretty little thing unravel under my will more than makes up for it.

I bounce on it, roughly, wrapping my hand around the wizard's throat as they look into my eyes, pinned under my body as I fuck their brains out, riding their cock until they're chaining one orgasm right into another without stop.

This time, there's no spell to make their dicklet hold back. They cum over and over and over again, shallow spurts of weak, watery seed shooting again and again inside me as I quickly drain away their virility and the rest of their size until there's nearly nothing left anymore of the wizard's dick.

Their last spurt comes with great difficulty, painfully making them writhe and yielp until they shoot out a tiny, pretty little gemstone, brimming with life. Theodoros cums her soul out, and with it goes the rest of her masculinity and self, sealing her transformation into a lesser demon, with a cute, lithe frame, a pair of small horns on her head, a tail, with a heart shaped tip, and pink eyes with slitted pupils.

In a moment, a large demonic cock forms onto my crotch, and Theo instinctively spreads her legs, presenting a smooth, bare crotch. I press my tip between her legs and push, her body yielding to my will and my cock, shapeshifting her pussy and womb into existence to better serve my needs.

"Good girl. You'vrle yielded your soul to me, and now... You're bound into my service, eternally. From now on, I rename you... Theodora. And you may adress me as mistress, Thea."

"Yes... Mistress." Her mind seems to object momentarily to the idea, but the thought is quickly discarded. Whilst holding her soul, Thea's mind is as malleable as her body. The fledgling demoness can't even will herself to want to resist. The very thought brings her pain... And obedience brings bliss.

"That's my good girl... You and I are going to have a lot of fun."

[metalomagnetic]

Snippet Canis Major

Voldemort remembers the other Sirius. Also, a little glimpse at Orion/Walburga, because I never tire of this toxic couple.

(-)

Usually, it was Arcturus or Pollux that showed up when their children got in trouble. Cygnus, especially, was often in trouble, so Pollux’ face was the most familiar to the students.

In Voldemort’s sixth year at Hogwarts, Atticus Bulstrode, the Head Boy, invited Walburga to Hogsmeade, the last in a lengthy string of boys asking her out. Only this time, she accepted.

When he heard, Orion challenged him to a formal duel. Atticus laughed, rolled his eyes at his fourteen years old opponent.

“Quick!” He was shaken awake by Abraxas, in the middle of the night.“Orion is killing Bulstrode in the trophy room! You have to stop him!”

He reached them just in time, he disarmed Orion, and rushed Bulstrode to the Hospital Wing, where they found Dumbledore asking the Matron for a sleeping potion.

Atticus was lucky- Dumbledore was more often than not away from Hogwarts, chasing Grindelwald, rumour went, but he was there that night, apparently suffering with insomnia.

The professor kept Atticus alive until the Healers from St Mungo arrived and took the boy with them.

“It wasn’t me,” he said, hurriedly, stained in Bulstrode’s blood, lingering in the Hospital Wing. Dumbledore peered at him from under his half-moon glasses. Dumbledore always liked to blame everything on him. “I only brought him here after-”

“I know,” Dumbledore assured him.

The next morning Atticus’ father came thundering, his yells easily heard from where Voldemort was spying, near the Headmaster office.

He wondered if maybe this will be the time when a Black actually suffers consequences. After all, Bulstrode’s name was ancient, they were a rich, influential family, and surely, at least on account of that, Dippet would do something more than detention and points taken, which was the usual punishment for Blacks.

Only, this time it wasn't Arcturus that came to fix his son's issues.

It was the infamous Sirius Black. A tall man, with wide shoulders, long black hair hanging around his face, deep circle under his too intense eyes, mouth twisted in a snarl. Orion walked behind him, his gaze fixed on his older relative. Voldemort watched them, hidden by a pillar. Orion never seemed small; he carried himself with such arrogance and pride, his head held so high he seemed a foot taller than he was. Yet right then, Orion looked small, trailing after his grandfather, quietly, as Voldemort observed them disappear up the stairwell leading to the Headmaster's chambers.

They left Dippet’s office not even a quarter of an hour after they entered it.

As soon as they emerged from it, the gargoyles closing the door behind them, old Black slapped Orion, the noise echoing down the hallway.

“Next time you pull something like this, do it on a weekday, you fool! If I’m woken up again at this ungodly hour on your account on a Sunday, you will be very sorry for it.”

“Yes, Grandfather,” Orion answers, in that unfazed tone of his.

The old man narrows his eyes. “What was it about, anyway? How did he provoke your ire?”

A second worth of silence. “He tried stealing from me.”

Orion gets hit again, harder this time. The heavy family ring rips the skin at the corner of his left eye, and that pure blood of theirs makes an appearance.

“Then why does he still have hands?” the old man hisses, enraged. “If someone attempts to take what is yours, you cut off their hands, boy!”

He slaps Orion again, just as harshly.

“Yes, Grandfather.” Orion doesn't take his eyes off his grandfather, doesn't wipe away the blood running down his cheek, his hands held behind his back.

Sirius Blacks huffs in displeasure, before turning on his heels and marching down the hallway. “Weakling,” he mutters.

Nothing happened to Orion. Not even the usual detention. No points taken.

Sirius Black insisted it was a formal duel, that the challenge had been accepted, and it was all done honourably, Slughorn told Voldemort, when he called him into his office to give him the Head Boy badge, temporarily, until Atticus recovered and would be able to return to Hogwarts and his duties.

“When Armando reminded him duels are illegal at Hogwarts, formal or not, Mr Black said rules are just words on parchment; that he’s a wizard, and he follows laws of magic, not of men.” Slughorn sighs, rubs at his temples, and then he takes a caramel out of his newest bribe-sweets bag that Abraxas gave him. “He told Mr Bulstrode that if he wants justice, then he should challenge him to a duel, and solve it like wizards ought to. Of course, Mr Bulstrode has more than one brain cell, so he refused and let it go.” He sighs again, points a sugar coated finger at Tom. “This is why I always told you not to seek trouble with Blacks. We’re lucky he’s apparently taken to drinking lately, locked up in his Manor, that he lets Arcturus handle most of their affairs, who is much milder and reasonable. But, once in a while, he gets out and you do not wish to run afoul of him.”

No one in the common room talked of it; only Walburga complained she was looking forward to going to the newly opened teashop in Hogsmeade, and demanded to know what was Orion’s problem with Atticus.

“A Quidditch thing,” Orion told her, with a shrug. “Don’t worry, Waly. I’ll take you to Madam Puddifoot’s.”

“I don’t want to go with my baby cousin, don’t be ridiculous! Malfoy, you will take me!”

Abraxas backs away, slowly. “I can’t, Walburga. I’m busy, I have to study,” he says, hastily, when Orion glares at him from behind Walburga.

It was the only time mild-tempered, well behaved Orion did something so outrageous that his unhinged grandfather had to come and solve it, so it was the only time Voldemort saw the man.

[ciagent8]

buh

[fischlich]

pondering corrupted storches....... im stroking my wizard beard deep in contemplation. this straight up might make zero sense but eurm. i dont think theyre real! at least not in the same way the corrupted eules, mynahs, and stars are i'm under the belief that sierpinski is currently the only place being Fleshed for Real. nowhere is straight up noneuclidian and also at the bottom of a mine and rotfront seems to take place during ariane's time there. also ariane's room is straight up in the wall and the train still runs despite the Flesh i say this because corrupted storches only appear in nowhere and rotfront! at least if my memory is correct that is.. not to mention theyre a bit more? Weird? than the other corrupteds. the stars, eules, and mynahs are all visibly "oh yeah that guy got fleshed. shucks." but storches have an entire leg sticking out of their face, not to mention that leg looks different from their actual legs (for example, it isn't jointed!). How does that even Get there?

while I can definitely see the argument that it's just even More proof that reality is breaking down and both nowhere and rotfront are the result of reality eroding into flesh thanks to ariane, I think its more fun to consider it an off-branch dimension like the red desert that can distort reality as it pleases, including making storches grow legs for faces! In the "normal" dimension, Sierpinski is the only place fleshed, nowhere doesn't exist, and rotfront is proudly flesh-free. Or it could be that ariane pulled those places from space and time and fleshed them in the off-branch dimension and theyre just Missing from the normal one. I don't know. I'm just trying to figure out why there's no corrupted storches on Sierpinski when we see a dorm room full of dead ones ripe for the fleshening. and it's not that replikas can't be fleshed once they're dead, on the worker floor at the beginning of the game there's two visibly dead and not-fleshed eules who become corrupted eules later on.

so why not the storches? why do they only appear corrupted in nowhere and rotfront? i can tell you..... let me get my tinfoil hat on first... its because they don't exist! and neither does nowhere or rotfront! at least not in our dimension! love wins! this probably makes no sense sorry i ponder this game so often

[star-stimz]

Azure from forsaken stimboard please!! im illll about them

AZURE STIMBOARD

1--2--3--4--5--6--7--8

[bbloveseevees]

MLP needs to stop giving me CRK ideas…

Me: watching Friendship Games for fun, on the “Unleash The Magic” scene

My brain: what if it was Wizard Cookie?

Me: oh shit wiat you’re onto something

[cherrywell]

Chapter 5 of little jester: new home

“With every fabric of my being.”

“Deal.”

“Welcome aboard.”

Custard cookie stood up. “So. This new life?” Custard asked shadow milk.

“Well little one.” Custard felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to see Shadow Milk cookie. He looked semi-translucent. “In the wave of my hand.” Custard watched as the woods he was in vanished before his eyes as swirls of various shades and hues of blue danced around the two. Custard smiled at the show before him. Before he knew it the colors vanished and Custard stood along with Shadow Milk Cookie on a stone path that led to a castle right by them.

“Whoa…” Custard was in shock and awe. He felt his eyes tingle. He went to rub them. Shadow milk’s face showed slight concern for the child. When Custard’s eyes reopened he saw they had changed from their bright tealish blue to a case of hetrochromia. A bright teal and a dark blue. It hit Shadow Milk sharply this sudden change in his eyes was because Custard was now under his influence.

Pure vanilla sat leaning against White Lily Cookie. White Lily was running her fingers through Vanilla’s hair. “Hey guys,” Strawberry cookie greeted the two.

“Where’s Wizard? And GingerBrave?” White Lily asked as she started to braid the blonde locks in her hands.

“In Wizard’s tent. Wizard is reading from a magic book and GingerBrave is listening” Strawberry explained.

“I didn’t think he was interested in magic…” Vanilla commented.

“He loves it when wizard rambles and I quote “I like hearing him talk it’s cute” GingerBrave not me.” (AND the bias of WizardBrave comes in)

“They’re together?” Pure Vanilla asked.

“Yep.”

“Finally I had wizard come to me about a crush on GingerBrave…” he proceeded to go silent.

“Vanilla? Are you ok?” White Lily asked.

Custard cookie was being given a tour of the castle. He had a soft smile on his face. For whatever reason he didn’t feel all that sad anymore. He wasn’t mad. He was just very content. “And this Custard! Will be your room!”

The room was covered in shades of blue, black, and silver. There was a big comfortable bed. A bunch of craft supplies, toys and other items Custard liked. There was a bright blue tint due to a window being made of a a blue glass. He saw the moon shine into the room. It all felt so entrancing to him. He sat on the bed. It was so light and fluffy. “You like it?”

“Like it? I love it!” Custard hugged Shadow Milk. He hugged them back.

“I’m glad you like it little Jester! Speaking of which!” Shadow snapped his fingers and a few outfits came into view. “Shall we try them on?” Shadow asked. Custard nodded.

One by one he tried them on. Too plain, too big of sleeves, too well just no. Custard started to tear up as he wore it. “Oh… it’s ok, here we have one more outfit for you to try ok?” Custard nodded. The outfit resembled his old one in some ways. There was the front of the cape like there was in his old one, the white shirt was tinted a pale blue the cape spilt into two curved tails. There was a little crown that that was connected to a jester like headwear. He put it on. “Well?” It felt perfect as if it was tailored made to fit him.

“I love it!”

Pure vanilla was silent. The only sounds being the animals and Wizard’s voice reading from the book he bought. “I can feel a magic similar to my own nearby…” … “no…not…I swore he was at the kingdom..” it didn’t take long for Strawberry and White Lily to catch on.

“Custard?” Pure vanilla nods. “Oh no!”

[welcometogrouchland]

Oz brainrot struck again. Imagine for a minute we are fusing wicked the musical canon w/ 1939 movie canon and maybe some book canon for flavour. Elphaba could've avoided the whole melting situation w/ Dorothy and co by simply monologuing at them doofenshmirtz style. And while I can't recall if Fiyero/scarecrow and Bok/the tinman have their memories in tact (I think it's different between wicked the book and wicked the musical???), imagine for a second they do. You are 11 year old Dorothy Gale.

What do you do with all that information?

You're not going to kill the witch anymore you think bc you're pretty sure the wizard is using you as a puppet in a fascist police state. You could go to Glinda bc she was tight w/ your captor/new ally(?) at one point but she also seems to be deeply suckered in by said fascist police state. Could you change her mind? It seems like she mostly has a complex about social standing and individuality, maybe now that there's more of you she'll help you kill the wizard? Make it a girls trip!

...But do you even want to kill the wizard?? You're 11! you don't really want to kill anyone! but the mean green lady seems VERY adamant about that route. Also circling back to the comically sad life of said mean green lady- not only has she shagged one of your travelling companions (WHO USED TO BE A MAN????) but one of your OTHER travelling companions (also used to be a man but that's less surprising maybe) is her ex-brother-in- law who probably teamed up with you only bc he seemed to have hated his bitch wife (rude??) and his in-laws and your OTHER other travelling companion was rescued by the mean green lady as a baby and is also a part of an oppressed ethnic class in this world. And is a lion. Supposedly there was always a lion but who could trust any of these sickos with information at this point?

You are Dorothy Gale, you're 11 years old and trapped in an unfamiliar world and have come to the frightening realisation that you are the only adult in this fuck ass evil castle and potentially in all the land.

You're asking Aunt Em for a raise after all this. You weren't paid before. But you will be asking for a raise.

[theres-an-endless-starry-sky]

I was promised gay wizards by following this blog

gay wizards??? Did someone say

gay wizards??

Boys we have a new recruit, time for corruption

First question: have you heard of Harry potters parents

[mrstellmeafuckingsecret]

Pakistani Emmeline Vance? Tell me more.

she was born in pakistan but moved to england when she was still a baby, only visiting pakistan in winter break, she told the girls in her dorm she was actually white and she just tanned easily and she went by emmeline instead of emaan. she put away the oils her mother sent, the shalwaar kameez the jhumkas and straightened her hair till that was just natural to her. then she shifted back to pakistan when she graduated, far away from the war, and she didn't know how to speak urdu or make rotis and her cousins always sat closer together to each other than to her as they gossiped about the family, but she didn't even understand what a 'khala' was so she just sat their lost and smiled awkwardly and avoided eye contact. then she went back to england when dumbledore formed the order and she felt out of place back home, too, because she'd picked up an accent and didn't know the new celebrities or the new gossip, she had to mentally translate every other thing twice to have it set in her brain which hurt her ego (even if no one knew). she felt lost 24/7 trying to belong in two worlds and she tried burying herself in work and the war and then felt silly when one of her biggest concerns was "but my skin is too dark!" while her friends had theirs scarred forever. it took the war ending for her to realize that it literally wasn't that deep.

[americankimchi]

some days i think to myself about the wasted potential that was essek criticalrole and feel a headache form behind my eyes.