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Abandoned To Revel With A Veela - by Ruinous_Baron

Discussion in 'Trash Bin' started by ZachAttack2018, Jun 16, 2019.

  1. ZachAttack2018

    ZachAttack2018 First Year

    Joined:
    Oct 29, 2018
    Messages:
    21
    Gender:
    Male
    Title: To Revel With A Veela
    Author: Ruinous_Baron
    Rating: M (X?)
    Genre: Romance (PWP, more accurately)
    Status: Abandoned
    Library Category:
    Fandom: Harry Potter
    Pairings: Harry/Fleur
    Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11596575/chapters/26065245

    Summary: So, yeah. What a second overall recommendation from me. I’ll be honest: this is an, ahem, mature work. Pretty twisted stuff, as well. Essentially, this story features a Fleur Delacour with what can be described as a twisted affection towards Harry Potter. She has a predatory attitude that is in line with the sexual nature fanon lovers believe Veela have. This story alternates POVs, so you can get a good look at both of their thoughts during these, ahem, events. In the last chapter, 5, this story gains a new level of weird (kinky?) when
    Fleur goes into her “avian form” and grows a dick. Yeah.
    This story has some plot to go with the smut content, but very little. The entire 5 chapters and 63,000 words take place between the first and second tasks. This story is also completely focused on the sex, with Voldemort a side note.

    I should add that all smut in this fic is consensual. Legally. Well, at least on Fleur’s part. Harry’s consent is slightly more in a gray area.

    Rating: 3.5/5

    I like it. I’m also certain not everyone will. It’s messed up. If you like smut stuff, then go ahead, by all means. The Harry/Fleur pairing with the female being the manipulative “Dom” is pretty unusual, as far as I can tell.
     
    Last edited: Jun 16, 2019
  2. Zansa

    Zansa Third Year

    Joined:
    Feb 1, 2011
    Messages:
    104
    The author tells constantly.

    Grammatically, it leaves much to be desired.
    And the dialogue is, at best, stilted. Realistically, I would say this is terrible.
    And then we get to the smut. I don't know where to begin with this, so here's a few quotes.

    Though both of them would be called beautiful by any boy or man who saw them, they knew they would never compare to Fleur. Her beauty, her grace, the sheer etherealness of her presence, would always elevate her above the crowds. As it should be. But among the more common rabble, among those who were not like Fleur? They were stunning.

    Dannielle's breasts were not at all like Fleur's. They were bigger, for one, and while for now they still defied that wretched enemy of women everywhere - gravity itself - one day they would sag; though that is not to say magic could not undo its effects. Should someone's hand come to lay against the whole of one of Danni's breasts much of it would overflow between fingers, and weigh the hand down. Of the three French witches, she was the one most blessed with the curves of womanhood.

    Her behind matched her breasts in equal proportion, and it too was without any sag to it whatsoever. Boys had begged to be given the chance to dive in between those cheeks of hers and kiss and lick and do whatever else they might be commanded. But unlike Fleur, Danni was not quite so smooth, and a small bush of fiery red hair rested atop of her own mound, above the puffy flesh of her labia, already dripping drops of arousal unto the carpet that covered the room's entire floor.

    Amy... well, Amy was Amy. She was more alike Fleur in body type than Danni, but in all else? If the trio of witches had a center for all things perverse, it would be Amy. It was her who first initiated things with Fleur, back when they had just been acquaintances, just 'Hello, how do you do?' in the hallways of Beauxbatons, right up until Amy had pressed Fleur against a wall, her lips bearing down on Fleur's, while her knee went between her legs, rubbing the Veela's mound in slow motion. The dominance play did not last long on Amy's part, and she found herself in the reverse position, with Fleur taking out all of her frustration out in bursts of rage, bursts of passion and hate and sweat and tears and the sweet, sweet nectar between their legs. It was Amy who drew in Danni to them, having already seen her beforehand with a boy or two in one of the unusued classrooms, and what she bid them do for her, having grown aroused by the sight of a witch dominating a wizard so easily.

    From the both of them, Fleur had learned her trade.

    Fleur closed her eyes and sighed in anticipation as one hand wrapped itself, from behind, around her right breast. A moment later, she felt wet lips on the back of her neck, while another hand glided down the trail of her spine, until it cupped her ass.

    "Sluts," she growled out, turning her head to the side, her own hand pressing against the back of Danni's head as she kissed the red-haired witch's plump lips. Little moans and gasps escaped Danni as Fleur's tongue dove in between her lips. Amy kept busy as well, of course, having sunk down to her knees, almost sandwiched between the two lower halfs of the witches. She took great delight in teasing them with her tongue, teeth grazing just barely against their clits, hands kneading their fleshy behinds.

    But one hand moved away eventually and with a murmur against Fleur's now sopping mound, a wand of twelve inches slipped into her waiting palm. She quickly brought it to her mouth and muttered a rather nifty little charm, before she let the wand fall down to the floor, and watched as her tongue grew longer, covered with bumps. When the charm had done its work, Amy didn't hesitate in the slightest and fully turned onto Fleur, her seven-inch tongue diving in between the Veela's lower lips, nose rubbing against her clit, both hands now on her delectable derrière, even as Fleur's hand came to rest on the back of her head, pushing her enlarged tongue even further into her dripping pussy. Each bump in the organ brought tremors to her knees, but Danni's arms had encircled Fleur around her waist and kept her upright, while slowly moving towards the bed.

    By the time all three had stumbled onto the bed, Fleur's thighs wrapped around Amy's head while Danni was trailing kisses down her neck, down her collarbone, moist mouth suckling on her breasts, she was already aflame, and the more Amy's tongue whirled around her insides, the hotter her body had become, until naught but the flame remained and Fleur was gone.

    Amy's head managed to pull out from Fleur's thigh-grip, her hair, no longer in a ponytail, cascading in front of her face. She settled on top of Fleur, holding her down by the legs, while Danni kept her arms subdued on the side, just barely, as Fleur trashed beneath their hold on her. Amy managed to finally cancel the charm on her tongue, though she left the traces of Fleur's juices untouched, uncleaned from her mouth and chin. The scent alone would help calm her, keep harm at bay.

    The skin on Fleur's face tightened, her nose grew longer, turned sharper, the light hair on her arms multiplied and thickened until it became something more than mere human hair. All of it, all of her body, turning from extraordinary human beauty to the very image of inhuman cruelty and malice and want and lust. The creature beneath them no longer spoke in elegant French. It shrieked instead and they knew what it wanted, what it craved and demanded, what it had come out to the fore for. Reluctantly, like so many times before, they let go of Fleur and the tables were swiftly turned. No longer did Amy press herself against Fleur, no longer was Danni allowed to kiss and suckle upon her skin. The Veela had come for its due.

    Fortunately for the three of them, they had warded the room with privacy charms beforehand.

    It would have been awkward if anyone had chanced upon them to find out the source of those screams.

    Amy loved the pain. Dannielle loved the pleasure.

    And Fleur loved it all.

    Morning came, eventually, sunrise's bleak sunlight spilling into the room through one of the enchanted windows.

    Atop the large bed laid three witches, completely in the nude, bodies intertwined, remnants of fluids on their bodies reflecting the light. One of the three sleepyheads eventually stirred awake from slumber, though she refused to be the first one out of bed, and instead chose to nuzzle into the crook of her friend's neck, tickling the skin of it with her measured breaths. It didn't take long before the recipient of the tickling awoke as well, mumbling her displeasure, even as she pulled her friend closer in.

    "Bitch," she muttered affectionately, her hand moving across her friend's bared skin, enjoying the sight with more than just eyes. Every now and again she'd come across scratches, some deeper than others, but felt no shame from it. Indeed, a part of her being thrilled at the texture, the depth and the taste of those markings, glad that her friend bore them so well.

    Amy chose her response well and raised her head up from Fleur's neck to kiss her on the lips and whisper a simple, "Good morning to you too, oh great insatiable one." And there it was, that pleased gleam in Fleur's midnight-blue eyes.

    "Was I too much on you?" Fleur asked, her hand still roaming across Amy's body, until it settled for resting between her legs, tending to the inflamed looking labia that was covered in a sticky mess of its own.

    Her friend smiled. "Don't be silly, there is no such thing as too much of you, Fleur." She started rubbing her legs around Fleur's hand as her fingers caressed her pussy, gently. "And I rather enjoy the rawness of it. Makes me feel all the more wicked."

    [...]

    Only when no sound reached from the outside did Fleur reapply the spell and Amy let go of her shoulder, moaning out loud. She rode Fleur's fingers, while rubbing herself against her wrist as well, for a while until her whole body trembled, giving wave upon wave of sickly sweet discharge from her slit and into Fleur's waiting hand. She closed her eyes, sweaty hair matted to the sides of her head, breathing in and out very slowly. Amy was no fool though, she knew what was coming, Fleur was not quite done with her yet. And just like that, she was proven right, when fingers started poking at her mouth, prodding it open until Amy parted her lips and cum-slick digits found themselves resting on Amy's tongue as she cleaned them, one by one.

    "Good girl," said Fleur with praise before she took her now-clean fingers from Amy's mouth and gave her a tongue-filling kiss.

    If I had to say just one more that these smut scenes break, it's the physicality of the scene. Smut should not, under most circumstances, involve the mechanical act of sex as a driving descriptor in the passage. Sex scenes are about the emotional connection between the specific couple or people involved in the scene. The emotional exchange is what lends weight to written porn, not the acrobatics. Heat against one's neck, a moan as just the right spot is touched in just the right way a growl as fingers are withdrawn, a whimpered confession of love, are the arousing elements by which written erotica lives and dies. Everyone with access to the internet knows what sex looks like, and if they want to be reminded they'll go watch a video.

    Engaging in the mechanical experience is a very frequent problem with inexperienced male writers, because the male sexual frame itself is heavily physical in nature. As a result, erotica at this level will either appeal to your specifics kinks and fetishes and receive a passing grade, or it won't and it'll fail.

    That said, the writing itself is not good on a technical level, so even in the case that BDSM, and specifically power play, does appeal to someone, I would have a very hard time recommending this particular piece.

    This isn't overtly offensive, it's just not good. 2/5.
     
  3. Zombie

    Zombie John Waynes Teeth Moderator DLP Supporter

    Joined:
    Apr 28, 2007
    Messages:
    5,015
    Please stop reccing abandoned shit.
     
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