January 14th, 2004

12:29 pm - PROWLING Hey, fandom_scruples...fandom_pillory here, obviously your evil twin. I post NC17 smut without even an LJ cut. So you'll take it and LIKE IT! This fuck's for you....(written at the request of someone a while ago, I don't recall who, enjoy your Sirius/Severus!) PROWLING They were both prowlers by nature. It didn't really matter why. Sooner or later, Black would be prowling because it was his goddamned house, even if he hated it, and Snape would be prowling because well, it was what Snape did. And that would lead to them running into each other. Which, in turn, would probably have led to someone getting a black eye, except for two things. One: When they finally did come across each other, around two in the morning the summer they were both living there, it was right in front of Sirius' mother's portrait, and not even Severus Snape wanted to wake that old harpy. Two: This had happened at school, and they had a solution for it back then, too. Of course, back then it had involved a silent, furious duel, which to be fair did hone their skills in such things to a fine point. Especially after fifth year. Especially after Sirius won, once, and took his winnings out in trade. To be fair, Severus had offered. They didn't bother duelling anymore. They circled, both conscious that noise was out of the question. There was still supposed to be a winner and a loser, otherwise it wasn't fighting. Otherwise what was the point in hating each other? It's my house. You're a prisoner. I could pin you. Don't be so proud of muscle. At least I'm proud of something. Snape lunged forward then, which meant that Sirius won. His hands went to the other man's waist, pulling him back, out of the corridor, into one of the empty rooms. Lips together, not nice, not romantic -- Sirius had once said, afterwards, that whores charged extra if you wanted to kiss them. Severus hadn't replied. He swung Severus around and slammed him against the wall as the door closed, blocking the world away. Brushed Severus' long dark hair away from his neck as he pressed his mouth against it, not kissing but biting, making Severus gasp. His long pale fingers held Sirius' head, trying to guide it, but Sirius had won, this time, and so Sirius did as he pleased. It was still a sort of fight, even after the fight itself was over. Otherwise what was the point? Neither of them were willing to roll over and give up. Ever. Sirius growled as he pulled the tight black shirt over his head, stepping close again to press his lips, teeth, tongue to Severus' adam's apple. His hands, swift and sure, undid the buttons at Severus' collar, giving him access to the sensitive skin where shoulder met neck. Their hips ground together, Sirius' erection pressing against his thigh, hot and thick even through the fabric. Severus cried out, soft but urgent, fingers tucking into Sirius' belt, fumbling the buckle open, pulling him closer before he shoved the clothing down and off his hips. A trade, almost a truce for a second; Sirius was naked, Severus clothed, but that was balanced out by the fact that Severus now dropped to his knees, hands stroking Sirius' thighs as his mouth covered his cock, Sirius muttering harder, more. Moaning. Hands tangling again in Severus' hair, hips moving, head thrown back. Not a truce, not even close, even when the pale man refused to let him move as much as he wanted, refused to give in and become nothing more than a toy, something to gratify oneself with. But he did flick his tongue across the hot swollen cock in his mouth, he did move his head and allow Sirius to move just a little...not too much. Sirius never made noise when he came. Severus ought to know. He just shuddered, with his mouth open so and his eyes closed and his body trembling, and the orgasm was almost worth losing, because Severus knew he had done that, he had driven the other man past words. "Good," Sirius whispered, as Severus stood, lip curling slightly. He let his head fall, and fixed Severus with dark eyes that were glassy with pleasure and lust. "Good," he repeated, moving a little, circling Severus, who rose and stood very still. A hand wrapped around his waist from behind, and he felt Sirius' breath against his neck, over his left shoulder. "I took you," Sirius said softly. His hand was undoing the belt buckle with much more grace than Severus had undone his. His other hand stroked Severus' throbbing erection, through the fabric. "But that was good." Severus would not beg, but he moaned. Sirius' hand snaked under the fabric, fingers exploring, freeing Severus' cock without actually removing much of his clothing. They drew along the sensitive skin slowly, almost idly. Severus hissed. Then the fingers tightened, suddenly, and Severus' entire world shrunk to the hands on his body, the voice in his ear, telling him I want you to do this, I want you to feel this, I want, I want you. I want you. I want you. Severus could feel Sirius grip him as he stiffened, could hear Sirius' ragged breathing when he moaned and came, could hear the murmured "scourgify" and the hands slowly re-dressing him. Sirius would not dress until he left. Sirius wanted him to see that he could be more powerful, even naked. Severus did not look back as he left. This wasn't sex, this was the losing end of a fight. Otherwise, what was the point? Otherwise it might be lust and attraction and a love that lay a hairsbreadth from hate, old insane hate. FIN!

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December 16th, 2003

10:42 am - FOR NOW lupercali asked, and Fanwank Avenger is nothing loathe to provide, especially to a fellow econ-sufferer in arms... Also, have kink, must fulfill: who wants to write me really filthy, hot, Remus/Regulus? FOR NOW Remus, much to Sirius' disgust, rather liked Regulus Black. Of course, Sirius didn't know the half of it, or his head might have exploded. Remus liked the wiry black hair beneath his fingers, liked the way Regulus moaned around him. Remus liked the pure blue eyes that stayed open on his when they kissed. Frankly, Remus liked fucking a Slytherin. It was hot and dangerous and Regulus sometimes left marks. He'd bite his neck or nibble on the inside of his thigh or rake his sharp fingernails down Remus' back as they pressed together in Regulus' bed, always the chance that another Slytherin would wander in and pull back the green brocade curtains. What would Remus do if they found him naked and hard and moaning in Regulus' bed, with Regulus Black's mouth around his cock? The thought alone was enough to make Remus uncomfortably aroused when he looked up over his desk in History of Magic and saw Regulus watching him hungrily. "What do you think about when you stare at me?" he asked Regulus once. Regulus shrugged, and said "Sex." Regulus never asked, of course, what Remus thought about when he stared back. Which was a good thing, as what Remus mostly thought about was the fact that he really only wanted to see that same devouring stare in Sirius' eyes. But Regulus would do. For now.

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November 25th, 2003

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October 24th, 2003

12:42 am - Night Swim Ahhh, there is always a new wank. Fanwank Avenger has only to be patient, and the wank shall come to him. This one comes to us from pinkfinity's journal and thereabouts, and as Fanwank Avenger loffs the Pink, he has posted his latest for her. This pairing was at the request of imochan. Poor bugger will have to wait for the "Harry's POV" sequel, though. Of COURSE the Avenger is a tease. Have you not learned this by now? *** NIGHT SWIM Remus Lupin came up for air, gasping, pleased at the shock to his system; it was like anything else, it was better to leap and regret it later, if at all. He slicked his hair back from his face and moved his legs slowly in the chilly water. The others sometimes waded into the cold, but Remus dove. Always. A leap from a high rock into a particularly deep pocket in the lake, a clean cut through the water. The others hadn't come tonight. James was leading a study session for NEWTs, and everyone was there. Remus supposed he should be, but his nerves were too much on edge. A few laps would help him sleep. There were sulfur springs on the far side of the lake, where the water was blood-temperature warm. He made for them now, reveling in the werewolf strength which drove the muscles across his back, along his arms, down his thighs and calves. He felt the warm water drift across his face. The rocks here formed small pools, and he could -- "James?" he asked, surprised out of himself by the sight of the other man sitting on one of the rocks, shirtless, wet trousers rolled up, feet propped on another rock in front of him. James raised his head. Remus gaped. Who else could it be -- but his face was subtly different, and his eyes were green... "Who's there?" the man asked, curious. "I can't see you in the dark." Remus drew closer, pulling himself halfway out of the water on a nearby rock. "James, you're supposed to be at the study session," he said, turning to allow the light of the waxing moon to fall on his face. "I'm not James," the man said. "My name is Harry." "How'd you get here?" Remus asked. "Nobody's supposed to be on the grounds but Hogwarts people." "I'm not doing anything wrong," Harry answered. "I came through the forest. I wanted to come here to think." "Sorry, I'm sure," Remus said, preparing to kick away. "I'll let you alone if you like." "No -- don't go." The man put out a hand. "I'd like to talk to you." Remus swam lazily to where he sat, pushing himself up until he was sitting on the same rock that Harry now rested his feet on. He could see now that there were differences between this man and James; the face wasn't the same, the eyes weren't, there were more and better-defined muscles across his chest, and there were scars on his shoulders and ribs. Still, he couldn't be more than seventeen. Remus liked the look of him; he was handsome, magnetic in the same way James was, and graceful. "You remind me of someone, a teacher I once had," Harry said. "You remind me of a friend of mine. It's uncanny, really." The man drew a knee up to his chest, and rested his chin on it. "Aren't you frightened?" "Of what?" Remus laughed. "Of you?" "After you leave here. There's a huge world out there and there's so much badness in it. Aren't you scared?" "Got my mates," Remus said, after a reflective pause. Harry looked like he was about to say something, and then stopped himself. "It's all inevitable anyway," he muttered. "What is?" "Nothing." Harry shrugged. Remus peered closer at him, until their faces were almost touching, Remus' waist between Harry's legs. "Your eyes are familiar," he said finally. Harry smiled. "You don't look so afraid to me." "I'm not afraid of you." "You would be if you knew me." Harry's green eyes sparked, and as if to prove it to both of them, he bent down and kissed Remus, carefully, slowly, and exceedingly thoroughly. "You're a good judge of character. If I'd been one of my mates you'd have been decked by now," Remus said, rolling the taste of the other man's mouth across his tongue, as he drew back. "That why you're afraid?" "A couple other reasons," Harry said, with a dry humor Remus didn't understand. One of his hands drifted across Remus' shoulders, cupped the back of his head. Remus, mischievously, slid down into the water, standing in the shallow pool between his rock and Harry's. He leaned his head on Harry's thigh, felt thin deft fingers slick his hair into neat lines. "You're as nervous as I am," Remus observed, feeling the tension in Harry's body. "I've a bloody great test tomorrow. What've you got?" "I might die." "What?" "Tomorrow I have to fight someone a lot stronger than me. I might die," Harry repeated. Remus bent into the hand stroking his hair, closing his eyes. The only response he could come up with was wildly inappropriate, but he said it anyway. "Any last requests?" Harry looked down at him so intensely that Remus caught his breath. "Yes," Harry said quietly. Remus nodded and swayed forward, guided by Harry's hands, his own reaching up to tug at the damp material around Harry's hips. He could see clear enough what the other man wanted. Hell, it might be good for him, too... He could feel himself harden as he stroked Harry's cock with one hand, thumb rubbing gently over the head. Harry moaned, leaning his head back, thrusting slightly. Remus pressed his thumb to the base of his cock as he took it in his mouth, just the head, tongue working around it like he'd learned from another man with black hair, in some other lifetime that did not touch on this warm summer night to make Harry cry out, quietly. "More please more," Harry begged, and Remus dropped one hand to stroke himself in the warm water, letting Harry's hips buck, letting him control the way this happened, though he moaned and made voiceless cries, vibrating against the hot, pulsing warmth in his mouth -- Harry's hands surprised him, pushing him away before he was done, and he spread his arms for balance in the water. "More," Harry said. "You, more..." Remus took his wrists and pulled him into the water, their bodies touching now, chest to chest, Harry's erection pressed to Remus' thigh. He kissed him, with the same thorough fire as before, and then turned. He leaned on the rock he'd been sitting on, pressing one cheek to the smooth, water-washed stone. Remus drew his thumb down Harry's spine, and when he reached his ass, he pressed a finger in, gently; two; stroking until Harry gave a little sobbing cry of pleasure. Remus drew out his fingers and pushed inside him, chin on the other man's shoulder, hips moving in the water. Harry cursed, and begged again, and said his name, Remus, and another name Remus didn't know, but that made it somehow all the better, because Harry was hot and tight and Remus was reaching around to stroke him as he bucked his hips and gave the little breathless gasps he'd wanted to make before. Harry shivered and came, moaning, before Remus, but not by much; they stayed there, swaying with the heated water, until Remus let out a small, pleased sigh, and withdrew. Harry was still leaning on the rock, eyes closed. "If it had to be anyone before tomorrow," he said softly, "I'm glad it was you." Remus smiled, body awash in endorphines, and warm, and tired. "You don't even know me." Harry turned, and gave him one last kiss that sent chills along his skin, nuzzling his jaw slightly. "Say that again in twenty years," he said cryptically. Remus leaned back, let himself half-float as Harry rose out of the water, dressed in the damp trousers and a plain white shirt, and turned to look at him. "Goodbye, Remus," he said, and vanished into the forest. Remus was already back in the dormitory and nearly asleep when he realised he hadn't given the green-eyed man his name. FIN!

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October 17th, 2003

05:32 pm - THE COLLAR. musesfool is a sensible person, and Fanwank Avenger lives to reward sensible people! Especially when they describe gossip as illicit sex -- everyone wants to do it, but nobody wants to get caught. Therefore, Fanwank Avenger has presented her with: THE COLLAR It was a collar. It wasn't as though it was a particularly...nice collar. Sirius had no money for really nice things anymore, not since he'd left home. But the point was...it was a collar. Remus looked up from his notes on the incredibly boring history lecture, for what must have been the thousandth time. Sirius was sitting two chairs down, bent over his own parchment, drawing pictures -- Sirius never needed to take notes. His shirt was just slightly askew, the Gryffindor tie a little loose, and Remus was sure that from any other vantage point he wouldn't have been able to see it. It was leather. Or a good imitation. It had a steel d-ring attached, probably for a leash. It was black. It was tight against his throat. It was possibly the most breath-catchingly sexy thing Remus had ever seen. Sirius glanced over at him. Lustsexwantneedleathercollarsteelblueeyesblackhairohsiriusoh... The other boy dropped him a wink. Remus swallowed. When he'd turned his head, the collar had become completely obscured from view. When had Sirius started wearing a...a collar? He wasn't in the habit of watching Sirius dress, more was the pity, but he was sure he hadn't seen it around the boy's neck before. He wondered if someone had...had put it there. He wondered if Sirius was wearing it for some girl. Outside, after class, he leaned against the wall and waited for the other three. Sirius bent over his shoulder as they walked, lazily, slowing him so that James and Peter were a few steps ahead. "Didja see it?" he asked. "The c-collar?" Remus replied. "Innit great? Got it in Hogsmeade. S'posed to be magic somehow but they wouldn't say how." "Oh," Remus said faintly, imagining Sirius in nothing but the collar, imagining his fingers on the collar, imagining Sirius in nothing but the collar in compromising positions...the scrape of it against Remus' neck, chest...thighs... "Here, you've gone all red," Sirius said. "Jealous? Bet you if I flash it at McGonagall I could make her fan herself." "Probably so," Remus murmured. Justfriendsjustfriendswearejustfriends... Idonotwanttothrowhimdownandshaghimsenselessbecauseofastupidbitofleather... "I think you should wear it all the time," he said, as they entered the dining hall. *** Well, Fanwank Avenger never claimed not to be a tease. *** It took two weeks for James and Peter to notice the collar. It took a lot less time for the Gryffindor girls to notice. And the Ravenclaw girls. And the Slytherin girls. And the Hufflepuff girls, and quite a few of the Hufflepuff boys, as well. Remus, however, was constantly conscious of it. A flash of steel below Sirius' shirt-collar, when he turned his head; a barely-discernable dark band under the white fabric. Sirius always seemed to have removed it by the time they undressed for bed. Which was just as well, or Remus' raging erection at the thought of that dog collar on Sirius' naked neck might never have gone away ever. JustfriendswearejustfriendsIinnowaywanttofuckyourbrainsout... He failed a test because of that collar. He very nearly failed a Transfiguration assignment because of that damned collar. He finally found a Slytherin girl and bought her dinner and did unutterably indecent things to her because of that collar. Not that it did much good. It was going to kill him, and he didn't want Sirius to ever, ever take it off. Funny how you wish for something and then... He was supposed to be studying. He looked like he was studying. Remus was sitting on his bed with a book propped against his knees, ostensibly reading about some Goblin uprising or other. In reality he was trying not to think about -- Oh, sweet Merlin on a pole. Sirius emerged from the washroom, in his pajama pants, the collar still around his neck, dark and tight, the steel glittering with water from his shower. In the last year he'd gained height and muscle; he looked older than his sixteen years. And that black leather around his neck made Remus blush in ways that were probably all too obvious. "Where's everyone gone?" Sirius asked, tossing himself onto his bed. Remus watched the flex of his shoulders in awe, the slide of muscles under skin the slide of muscles against skin no no no just friends. "Common Room. James is doing a study thing," Remus answered, tense. Sirius dug a finger under his collar. "Help me off with this thing, the buckle's stuck." Remus swallowed convulsively. "Come here then," he said, laying the book carefully across his lap. Sirius rolled off his own bed, tumbling gracefully to his feet and bending over Remus. The brown-haired boy's hands reached for the collar, exploring the clasp, trying to decide how best to release it when really all he wanted was to hook a finger through the D-ring and pull Sirius down on top of him. Sirius tilted his head to one side and exhaled slowly as Remus' fingers slid under the clasp. "Feels good," he muttered. "Collar rubs there, makes the skin sensitive." Remus caught his breath. "Just there..." Sirius' head tilted back slightly. Remus found himself running his thumb slowly along the line of Sirius' throat, under the collar. Sirius' hand was on his thigh. On his thigh. On his thigh on his thigh on his thigh on his oh no that wasn't his thigh anymore that was his ummm, Sirius.... "Like the collar, Remus?" Sirius asked, in a low voice. Remus gasped as his hand moved just that much more. "Easy to use," he added, adjusting his body so that Remus' fingers brushed the ring inset into the leather. "After all, I got it for you..." Remus raised his eyes to Sirius', and saw a mixture of hope and arousal and want and need and fuck... He curled one finger through the ring in the collar, and pulled gently. Sirius' body covered him, guided by his own hand, pulling him close, the rasp of leather on his jaw as Sirius kissed him. NotjustfriendsgodSiriusthereyourmouthyourtongueyourcockohyourcollar... Remus was still fully clothed, but he felt Sirius fumble along his thighs, felt him push the textbook out of the way, heard it tumble to the floor. He was still holding the other boy close to him, tongue sliding into Sirius' mouth, fingers securing Sirius by the collar, not allowing him to move, barely allowing him to breathe. "For me?" Remus asked, in reply to Sirius' half-forgotten comment about who exactly he'd bought the collar for. "For me for mine?" "For you for yours," Sirius replied, sliding a leg across the bed, straddling Remus' lap, his hands busy at the throat of Remus' shirt. "Fucking took you long enough." Remus arched his back and his hips lifted and oh, there was the glorious friction of Sirius' erection against his own through their clothes. He renewed his grip on the collar, fingers curling now around the leather, more confident. Sirius moaned. "Right there," he said, feeling Remus' fingers against his skin under the collar, sensitive from two weeks of pressure. Remus merely held him in place, his other hand cupping the back of Sirius' head, twining gently in the soft hair there. Remus' shirt was open now, pulled out of his trousers, and Sirius' hands slid along his hip, up his torso, over his shoulders. He growled, tugging gently against Remus' grip. "Let me...everywhere..." he said, his voice guttural, hoarse-pitched, aroused. "Show me Remus..." Remus released the collar, hand sliding down Sirius' slick skin, over his chest, across his flat belly. "Did you wonder who I was wearing it for?" Sirius asked, as he ducked his head to press against Remus' chest. Remus felt him inhale, rapturously. "Did you want to be the one?" "Yes oh yes..." Remus moaned. Sirius moved lower, the warm steel of the collar tracing a line of fire across Remus' skin. "Wanted to be the one...it was so secret, Sirius, tight leather around your throat -- " Sirius moaned and kissed his stomach, just above the belt of his trousers. Remus threw his head back and cried out softly as Sirius undid the flies, as the leather rubbed against his thighs, and then against his balls, and then Sirius' mouth was there was warm was so good... Lustneedwantsexcollarleathersteelblueeyesblackhairsiriusbelongedtohimbelongedtohimbelongedonlytohim Sirius' mouth on his cock. The warm soft feeling of Sirius, around him, nearly drove him to the edge. So many months of desire built up around the broad shoulders and the solid waist, the dark hair blue eyes, the cocky grin, the unabashed nakedness in the dormitory... He thrust upward, felt Sirius moan in surprise, looked down and saw that there was an etching in the back of the collar. There was something in the leather that covered Sirius' neck above his shoulderblades, a name carved roughly into the material. Moony. Remus felt an electric jolt surge through him and he came unexpectedly, a hoarse cry ripped from his throat by the knowledge that Sirius had carved that name there, that Sirius belonged to him, was his, was marked as his. His name carved into the leather of the circlet around Sirius' throat, his fingers controlling where Sirius put his mouth, where Sirius looked, what Sirius touched. He couldn't breathe, for christ's sake. He reached down and hauled Sirius up by the ring in his collar, probably too rough, but he needed that mouth, needed the steel between his fingers, and Sirius came willingly, crushing his mouth, body overheated and sensitive. Remus tasted the mingled mixture of the grapes Sirius had eaten at dinner and his own self, felt the insistent hard-on against his hip. "Please Remus," Sirius begged. "Please..." And Remus smiled, and kissed him, and his hands pushed down the flimsy pajamas and deft fingers curled around Sirius' cock. It was just like any other time when he'd thought about fucking Sirius, about kissing Sirius, about that damned collar, only it was Sirius' body he was touching, Sirius who was moaning and thrusting against him. Sirius, now naked except for the collar, in his arms. Sirius' firm solid body. Sirius' eyes. Sirius' voice. Sirius, whom he'd wanted since before he knew what sex was, in a way he could only vaguely explain. Sirius, who was marked with the name Moony on a collar they both knew he would never, ever take off... He felt the other boy tense, felt the slow slacking of the muscles as he came. He tugged on the collar and Sirius obediently lifted his face to kiss Remus once more. "It was like being naked," Sirius said, against his neck. "Watching you look under my shirt for it. It was like being naked for you. It was like showing you everything." "I wanted to bend you over a desk in the middle of class," Remus replied, stroking his fingers through Sirius' hair. "I belong to you." "I don't know if I like that." Sirius slid his hands along Remus' arms. "It doesn't matter whether you like it. It's true." Remus drifted his fingers over the cuts in the collar that spelled out "Moony" in angular letters. "Then that means I'm responsible for you." Sirius kissed his shoulder. "If you like." Remus didn't reply, but his hand curled possessively around the leather, and Sirius felt the pads of his fingertips against sensitive skin. "Never take it off," Remus said softly. "That was the plan," Sirius answered. ***

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October 14th, 2003

09:25 pm - Live By Request. Fanwank Avenger FEARS NO SHIP! By request of Milady pinkfinity, it is THE DRACO/SIRIUS! How You Taste There was a similar shape to their faces, Draco supposed, and something about the lips; the resemblance ended there. Draco knew full well that he had taken after the Malfoys, and rightly so. Even Narcissa hated the Blacks. Draco had only ever seen one picture of his mother's cousin, taken many years ago, and stumbled across by accident. It had been stuck to the back of another photograph in a frame Draco had broken when he was nine - that was eight years ago, now. There was a lift to the eyebrow and a serene cruelty to the face that he envied, a sensual grace that he aspired to. Seeing the living thing was something else entirely. It only brings pieces back, Lucius Malfoy had said, once, of a necromantic ritual that could resurrect the dead. And you don't know which pieces they will be. Sirius Black sat on a raised bench, in the garden of the sprawling Malfoy estates. He was eating an apple. He seemed perfectly at ease. "I wouldn't do that, if I were you, boy," he said. Draco let his wand fall. "What are you doing here?" Malfoy asked, a curl on his lip. This man was too young to be the Sirius Black that aunt Bella had killed. He couldn't be more than twenty-two, twenty-three. "Can a man not visit his cousin's home in peace?" Sirius asked, a wicked smile quirking his lips. "And the children of the house? Do they welcome him in?" Draco's mouth went dry. The words were hard as steel, and he could see the firm strength in the hand that held the apple. "How did you get here?" he said hoarsely. "How do you think? Those idiots tried to raise me. And look what they got." Sirius stood, closing the distance between them on the smooth gravel path, boots crunching with every step. "Aren't you going to say hello to me, Draco?" he asked, tipping the boy's chin up. Draco was frozen, iced over by the hard flat eyes, the sheer size of the taller man. Sirius' fingers traced a line down his throat, over his collarbone, to the edge of his robe. "Don't you want to greet the prodigal son properly?" If he had been chilled into stillness, now fire licked across his skin and rippled down his body as Sirius Black bent to kiss him, slick tongue sliding between Draco's lips, hands seizing him in the small of the back, across his left bicep, holding him in place. He tasted like apples. Draco felt it as Sirius' hand slid up from arm to jaw, pushing his head back to gain better access; he felt Sirius' other hand slide downward, pulling him against his solid, firm hips, the bulge of an erection at his groin. He should be pushing him away, should be running for the house to warn them there, but he could no more have turned from those hands and lips and tongue than he could have escaped an actual hex. "They tried to resurrect me," Sirius whispered, into his ear, tongue flicking over his earlobe. "But one of them wanted this -- not good, puling Sirius Black..." his hands roamed lower, exploring Draco's suddenly responsive body. "...but a Black and a son of the Blacks...because part of me is still Toujours Pur." Draco moaned as Sirius' hips rubbed against his own, tasted apple again, and when the other man's hands gripped his shoulders and pushed him to his knees... He went willingly. "And so I came..." Sirius said roughly, as Draco tugged at his trousers, as the hands guided him forward until his mouth opened, tongue lapping at Sirius' cock. "...to the house of my cousin..." He was hot and awkward in Draco's mouth, but he didn't seem to notice the younger man's difficulties. "...and what a welcome I find..." Fingers tangled in hair, hips bucked, tongue, lips, no longer quite so awkward, but thrilling, to be kneeling in the middle of the garden with his mouth around another man, a dangerous man who held his life between two broad firm hands... ...he did not taste like apples any longer. *** *swirls his cape, steals a kiss from pinkfinity, and swoops away*

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10:53 am Never fear! The Fanwank Avenger continues to be here. He has also been busy today, and has friended those who have been so kind as to friend him. Now he has upon his agenda for the day a Sirius/Draco requested by pinkfinity as per last night's continuewank(tm). But do not worry -- the Fanwank Avenger shall say nothing about twats or creeks of shit! He shall pointedly not mention journalfen, wherein presides the infamous fandom_wank! He shall also neglect to talk of vanityfair's post from yesterday which had all of fandom in an uproar, from the time it was posted until the time all the little fandom children collapsed weary in their little fandom beds, and also prompted these responses. The Fanwank Avenger has no opinion whatsoever of these sited actions, inactions and reactions, and thus shall not say a thing about them! Oh, wait. Like most of fandom, he already did. See such eloquent messages to all of fandom as the Fanwank Avenger can only commend and applaud here, here and here, though the last is a poll with these somewhat cutting results. Again, as the Fanwank Avenger already stated, he can have no personal opinions upon such matters because he has no idea what in broccoli's name is going on here, or why it refuses to cease and desist. As his closing statement, the Fanwank Avenger would like to advise you all to do as he does; that is, unzip your pants or pull up your skirts and wank with wild abandon, by far a more productive and satisfying interpretation of the word.

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October 13th, 2003

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09:42 am The actions of our esteemed friend, fandombitches -- whose journal has yet again been deleted; fandombitches have, apparently, an incredibly thin skin and when faced with homosexual orgies they flee to the troll hills -- are part of a rash of recent, anonymous attempts in the Harry Potter fandom to spread resentment, homophobia and poor grammar. Oh fandom! Under such surveilance from madmen and madwomen and madprepubescentviolentteenlings, how can you as a community thrive? Fear not! -- for the Fanwank Avenger shall be the first of a long line of watchfuls, violators and bitches to produce fiction, himself; to offer his opinions with commas, periods, and proper punctuation; and to occasionally put one or two of those stirring up trouble upon the Pillory not for mocking, mind, but for a moment of serious reflection in the face of smutly retribution. So let us begin with serious commentary for this morning of October the Thirteenth -- as good a day for the Fanwank Avenger to begin as any. In light of the magical disappearing fandombitches we must instead turn our sights to the wank begun this last Friday night in vanityfair's journal, which the Fanwank Avenger himself participated in at some point Saturday afternoon thereafter, the very day he was born. Journalfen's thexhibitionist has posted in full -- in derangedly well-researched and well-documented full -- the supposed perpetrations of one vanityfair, such as the infamous Very Secret Diary of Aja Romano, not to mention the unedited copy of her letter to ivyblossom entitled Her Highness, Ivy Blossom. Frankly, as I believe in being frank with you, my dear children of this most beleagured fandom, the latter was too long for me to read the entirety of, and was probably too long for most of you to read the entirety of. It is the War and Peace of epistlary inaction. However, as the Fanwank Avenger is neither Aja nor Ivy, he cannot pass judgement over either of their actions and cannot presume to say who is right and who is wrong in these matters. He can, however, post Smutficlet Retribution! where a pall of darkness has fallen over the wankitty wank wank WANK. And this is what he encourages all of YOU to engage yourself in doing. Where there is flamewar, make with the NC-17. Where there is interpersonal wank, make with the slash. You are armed, fandom -- armed with the power to produce and in producing, to protect! It is within your grasp: a fandom which writes more than it wanks and wanks less than it reads good fic; a fandom which creates rather than destroys; a fandom which pays no attention to the BNFs behind the curtain! You may be tempted to post your opinions as has one phatphatkitty -- this post as linked by vanityfair here -- but instead, I tell you all that the one true way is the way of fanfic, fanart, beta-reading or even (gasp!) reviewing someone else's work. Last but truly not least, ladyjaida has something of the right idea, but she should have instead put her time to better use by writing a Harry/Draco drabble to foster the goodwill brought about to all our burdened hearts by Ye Good Olde Smutte.

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October 12th, 2003

07:16 pm - A little Strangesmut to make your day that much more Dadaist. fandom_pillory: Ass-raping Snape/Dumbledore = OTP of champions. Innocent Bystander: WRONG. FP: Just like wheaties is the breakfast of champions. Only Ass-raping Snape/Dumbledore does not have anything to do with breakfast. IB: But let's not go there. FP: *** Dumbledore ate his wheaties like a champion. Suddenly, he paused. Something had changed. Was it the paperweights on his desk? Had they been rearranged? ...no. Was it the rare collection of genitalia in their jars? Had they been moved around? ...no. Was it the sock ornaments? Were there more of them? Were there less? ...no. "Oh," Dumbledore said, realizing. "Snape is in my ass!" That was all right, then. Dumbledore continued to eat his wheaties like a champion. *** IB: You know, for him to not realise that, for that long...Snape must have a really tiny penis. Poor man. No wonder he's so snarky. Current Mood: calm

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04:36 pm - We strike again! For the first time! In response to http://www.livejournal.com/users/fandombitches/3241.html , FANWANK AVENGER has come forward once more: NEVER FEAR, CHILDREN! Be not afraid of the homophobes, for FANWANK AVENGER IS HERE! Soothing your fevered brows with smut. And we all know what kind of smut response this sort of posts gets, don't we? JUSTICE SHALL BE SERVED! *** They had to be quiet in 12 Grimmauld place. Sirius' wretched mother's portrait hadn't yet been silenced, and in the nighttime even the smallest noise sometimes set her off. That was all right; Remus liked the silence, liked the covertness of it. Liked to kiss in silence and touch in silence, liked the way Sirius' mouth opened and only breath came out. But it had its disadvantages. When the shadow loomed slowly in the doorway he was sure it was a Dementor, and clutched Sirius tightly, feeling the warm skin on his own -- "Snape," he mouthed. Sirius turned. Severus Snape glided forward...smoothly. He did not speak. His eyes darted from one to the other. He knew. He knew about silences. When he kissed Remus on the lips it was sweet and bitter at the same time, and when Remus saw Sirius bend to nibble along the line of Severus' shoulder he knew that three could be silent as well as two could... *** Remus panicked for a moment when Sirius gripped his arm, but it was only to pull him closer to Severus -- Severus, who had come on them unannounced and was already...his hands on Remus' body, thumbing his nipples lightly, and reaching lower to undo his flies... Severus pressed against him, tongue twining in his mouth, cock rubbing hungrily against his own. He could hear Sirius gasp softly, could see Sirius' hands sliding down Severus' arms. Severus threw his head back and breathed, chest heaving, the feeling of the men on either side of him overwhelming. Sirius growled low, still trying to be silent, but obviously aroused by the sight of his lover being -- -- taken -- -- by this tall pale man, with the deft fingers and the deep voice and such deft fingers and hadn't he already said that? and he was coming and he heard Sirius' grunt of pleasure and Severus' voice pleading... And then there was silence again, except for the heavy breaths of the men, and the slow slide of hands on skin. Fin Current Mood: quixotic

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October 11th, 2003

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