Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7937944.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      Other
  Fandom:
      Magi:_The_Labyrinth_of_Magic
  Relationship:
      Judal_|_Judar/Ren_Hakuryuu
  Character:
      Judal_|_Judar_(Magi), Ithnan_(Magi), Falan_(Magi), Ren_Hakuryuu
  Additional Tags:
      judal_centric, implied_rape, nailripping, juhaku_towards_the_end,
      Oneshot, Torture
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-09-02 Words: 3248
****** Good boy ******
by ButanolMusket_(EthanolMusket)
Summary
     Judal learns being a good boy is a way to avoid the nightmares, but
     is that what he really wants? Rotting seems more appealing each day
Notes
     This is how I envision Judal's childhood in Al Thamen. This contains
     torture, implied rape, psychological manipulation to an underage so
     be warned. It's nothing too explicit, but the warnings and tags are
     clear and wanted to use this space as yet another warning. Proceed
     under your own will.
 
Judal is a good boy. He is just two years old yet he can cast some water magic
already, he can make the liquid dance around and even summon a relatively large
amount of it in not a long time. His teachers and caretakers are proud of him
as they praise him endlessly everyday he shows them his magic. Judal doesn’t
understand what they mean with ‘magi’ nor ‘chosen one’, he is a little boy that
likes the attention he gets when he does these things, he loves how the
fluttering little white birds float around him chirping and kissing his face.
“Such a good boy you are!” the veiled magicians claim happily.
===============================================================================
 
Judal is a good boy. At three years old he accompanies them to meet his king
vessels. He still can’t hold that concept in his young mind, but follows them
around nonetheless, his small hand tightening around the magician Falan’s one,
as he looks around the palace of Partevia. There are a lot of black birds
fluttering along the white ones, these are quieter, more somber, but they fly
around him, some landing on his little shoulder, serenading him with a slow,
yet soothing chirping. Judal doesn’t mind the color of the birds, he loves them
and he knows they love him. But deep inside he feels trapped, and the birds are
the only ones that understand that, he could never tell Falan nor Ithnan…they
would look at him in disappointment, and he is striving to be good. The small
child sits beside the next heir in line to the throne, Barbarossa, feet
dangling in the air as he yawns. “Bar, your rukh is noisy” Falan smiles at him.
That action pleases her and Judal’s happy he’s a good boy again.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Judal is a curious boy. He can control ice and is learning his lightning magic.
He can’t wait to learn to fly, he wants to soar through the sky with the birds,
they call them rukh, he thinks ‘birds’ is a more fitting name, anyways. He
wants to go out to play, but he can’t leave the place alone, not yet, they keep
telling him. He runs through the dark halls looking for Falan or Ithnan when he
hears pitched sobbing coming from one of the big doors, which isn’t completely
closed. Children are curious and so he steps and peeks inside the room. There’s
a woman in some sort of circle, the magicians are chanting something, he can
see the blood spilling from her, her rukh flying erratically as it is taken
from her. He flinches, and steps back just to bump into one of the veiled
magicians.
“Magi do you need anything?” he asks coldly, as Judal turns to the room, the
woman is not moving anymore and the rukh has been trapped in a crystal sphere.
“Her rukh was acting strange just some moments ago” he comments almost
absentmindedly, worried about the trapped birds, not understanding the woman
had been murdered in a ritual, he just focuses on the rukh, he doesn’t want to
remember the terror in her eyes, it was too much for him to try and understand,
so he decides to ignore it.
“The rukh is fine, magi, please go back to your chambers, I’ll inform Falan to
look for you” the magician bows slightly and walks away.
Judal does as he is told, walking slowly to his room, the rukh buzzing around
him, uneasy, he quickly climbs on his bed and does his best to fall asleep,
does his best to block out the terror and agony in the woman’s eyes, the crying
of her rukh. But his best isn’t quite enough.
Judal is not a good boy today.  He walks shyly to Ithnan and tugs at his robes,
the man looks down to see the small boy in a way of acknowledging his presence.
“Ithnan, why must we kill those people?” he asks curiously, but isn’t able to
read Ithnan’s expression, his eyes look blank and the mask doesn’t help at all.
“Why are you asking such a thing, magi? You shouldn’t bother with that, you
should focus on learning your magic and practicing to become the strongest
sorcerer ever, Judal”
Judal fidgets with the tip of his braid a bit nervously. “But is it necessary?
The rukh is so scared and...”
“And?”
“It cries...”
“Do not ask yourself these questions, magi, you know what you have to do as a
chosen sorcerer of creation,  that is all you need to think about, only that
and nothing else”
Judal nods slowly and without more, leaves for his room, even if that’s their
answer, he still can’t help but linger in thought about that.
===============================================================================
 
Judal is a bad boy today. He is walking through one of those strange, dark
corridors looking for Falan, when he hears a terrified scream. His eyes lock on
the door where he hears cries and sobs, and the rukh crying again, he steps
slowly to the looming, gigantic, red door, his small hand reaching for the
doorknob, turning it slowly. It opens easily, and inside he can see a mother
and her children crying, their hands and ankles are bound, dry blood scattered
through their clothing. His red eyes stare lazily at them, who look at him in
shock, until they see it’s a child.
“Please...little one...please help me and my children” the woman pleads.
“Please...you’d understand...”
“I don’t have a mother” Judal continues, as he approaches them. “Your rukh...is
crying...poor little ones...” he extends his hand and reaches a small bird,
which lands on his chest, his wings fluttering slowly.
“...I’m doing this for them, not for you” he makes his mind up, and raises his
wand, the chains on the woman and children bursting. She looks at him in
surprise, standing up and carrying her youngest child, extending her hand to
him.
“Come with me, a good boy like you doesn’t deserve to be with these monsters!
Let’s go out, together”
His eyes widen, it is a first for him, monsters? Why would they be, they are
just normal people working, aren’t they? This woman is making no sense, yet a
part of him screams to take her hand and run away. But another part tells him
it’s impossible, he belongs with them, he is a magi.
“You better go before they get you” he says expressionless and turns to leave.
The woman loses no more time to disappear through the dark hall, he hopes she
manages to go out, he hates to see the rukh sad, he doesn’t care about her, but
those birds crying is what he can’t stand.
Judal returns to his chambers, closing the door silently behind him, hoping he
doesn’t get in trouble, how could he? He is a magi, right? Everything is all
right for him…
…but it is not, he knows it when the veiled magicians open the door without
asking, when he sees their rukh buzzing like that, he knows they are angry, and
for the first time, he feels something close to fear when they enter his room
without his permission.
“Magi...you did something reckless...”
“What is the meaning of this, magi?...do you know who you are and your
important role in the world?”
Judal looks down, does it matter what he’ll tell them? They wouldn’t listen,
would they? But he is a magi, so what right do they have to tell him anything?
“Go away, I want to sleep” he mutters and sits on his bed.
Of course he is not getting away easily, and he understands that when he is
dragged forcefully out of his chambers, they pull his hand, his hair, his
clothes, no matter how he tells them to stop, as they throw him in a dark
chamber, making him sit on a chair and strapping him to it, his little hand
resting on the table.
“Judal...do you understand your behavior?” another veiled man appears in front
of him.
“You don’t tell me, a magi, what to do!” he snaps back and struggles. “This is
ridiculous, let me go!”
“Why did you let them go? Answer”
“The rukh was sad! It was crying! I don’t like them to be sad!” he whines.
“Now, let go!”
“Magi…you need to trust us, you don’t need to worry...you only need to be a
good boy, it isn’t hard, be a good boy and you’ll have everything you want” he
continues with a saccharine, sickening voice.
“I am not your slave! You serve me, I am a magi!” he resumes the struggling.
“You fucking brat, so rotten spoiled but what are we to do? Oh, educate you!
That we can do!” the man grabs a strange, metallic device and puts Judal’s
little hand inside. “A lesson needs to be learned, lord magi”
“What are you doing?!” Judal stares in disbelief, pulling his hand in vain, he
isn’t sure what the other has in store, but he surely doesn’t want to have
anything to do with it.
“Just a small lesson, lord magi” the man places his finger in the strange
contraption, which happens to be a nail ripper, his fingernail is secured
between the metal cage while a small lever is placed under his nail.
His red eyes widen as he looks up at the man, growing paler against all odds.
“This is not funny anymore...let me go” his voice falters, his body shakes,
they are just scaring him, there’s no way they’d do this to a magi, a wizard of
creation! There’s just no way…
The man smiles, a wicked grin, and Judal meets fear for the first time in his
short life, he presses the lever and the nail snaps almost immediately from the
finger, fresh blood spilling over the table and a stinging, painful sensation
like no other he has experienced, the boy screams in terror and pain.
“W-why?! Why did you do it?! I’m going to tell Falan! You’ll get fired!” he is
crying, fear and anger welling in his body, as he struggles more violently than
before, the pain is almost unbearable.
“Seems you’re still defiant, lord magi” the man moves his hand, preparing the
middle finger now.
“You wouldn’t! Don’t do it!” again, fear overtakes anger as Judal shudders.
Without any advice, the fingernail is sent off flying, the second scream is
louder as he starts crying inconsolably.
“Poor little boy, but you need to understand your place, are you ready for the
next one?” the man moves his little hand to the next finger as Judal starts
screaming in utter horror.
“Please! I understood! Please stop! I’ll be good! I promise! I will trust you,
I will! I won’t do stupid things, please!” he hiccups and looks down, his hair
hiding his face.
“You poor little thing, we just want the best for you, it seems you have
learned your lesson...”
“I have! I promise! I won’t tell Falan! I won’t let people go! I’ll be a good
boy! I’ll be good-“
The third fingernail is torn apart, another shriek, but this time the boy turns
to his side, empting his stomach on the floor, sobbing loudly, luckily for him,
he starts feeling lightheaded and dizzy, everything seems distant, he can hear
the man calling his name, urging him to stay awake, but his consciousness
vanishes with himself.
He wakes up in his bed, he sits up quickly, the soft blankets feel good against
him, and it feels a bit safe to be in his room. He pulls his hand out from
underneath the covers gingerly, afraid to see the damage, but is quite
surprised when he sees his hand is untouched. He lifts it and studies it, but
nothing seems strange, all his nails are in place. Those shocking memories seem
hazy and surreal in his head, like a distant thing, he can hardly recollect
anything that happened, a vivid, feverish dream it seems.
“A nightmare...” he says to himself calmly, letting himself fall back into his
bed. “Just a nightmare…” he laughs awkwardly to himself, of course, there is no
way anyone would treat a magi like that...is there? He is deep in thought, it’s
better if he doesn’t find out.
Some time passes, and it’s strange, whenever Judal is a bad boy, he keeps
getting these strange, painful and realistic nightmares that he barely
recollects, as if a thick veil is put between him and his memories. One day he
refuses to kill a child from a village because he wants to play with him,
because he likes how free the other is and wants to know more about him. He is
dragged to a room made of stone where the floor is frozen water; then he is
stripped from his robes and thrown in there. He screams and cries and begs for
forgiveness but they don’t come for him. Other times he is whipped, suffocated,
and tickled until he is screaming and crying. Each and every time he wakes up
in his bed, clutching his covers closely to his body and sobbing into them,
convincing himself those events can’t be real, he is a magi, so everybody looks
up to him and admire. Whenever that happens he feels detached, a bad lucid
dream that seems too eerily real but it is not, is like being on bed and being
able to look at everything but being paralyzed, unable to stop anything. Lucid
dreams can be horrifying.
And how can those things be real when they come for him, bathe him in a huge
bath tub that looks more like a fancy pool filled with the finest scented herbs
in existence, scrub his body tenderly, fix his hair and dress him in the finest
silk? When they don’t scold him when he refuses to eat his vegetables and just
eats fruit? They do all he wants, so it’s all right…
He learns the way of avoiding the nightmares is to be a good boy, how hard can
it be? After all, they give him all he wants and let him do as he pleases. The
nightmares are just a karmic punishment for misbehaving, he convinces himself.
===============================================================================
 
Judal is a very good boy, as his red eyes stare at the desolation that is now
the Kingdom of Sindria, smoke rises everywhere, people cry and crawl and die
before him. The feeling in his chest seems almost absent as he witnesses these
events. When he arrives home, everyone praises him for being a good magi, for
this world’s sake, for Al Thamen. A feast is presented to him as well as a big
celebration. He is only a child, but he is allowed to drink, the taste of
alcohol is bitter to his mouth, but he chugs it all down nonetheless, the vivid
screams and stench of burning flesh in his mind diminish the more he drinks
from that horrid stuff. He doesn’t sleep alone tonight, for he is such a good
boy he is rewarded with some company, which he would rather not be with, but in
the dark of his room and the dizziness all over him, the cold touch to his body
is easily overlooked.
They don’t bother him the next morning, they allow him to sleep all day, and
Judal is grateful for that, it is easier to keep his mind blank this way,
loneliness is supposed to lead to some unwelcomed introspection, but standing
around those guys makes it worse. The black birds flutter around him loudly, he
swaps his hand lazily and tells them to be quiet, surprisingly, the birds’
buzzing melt into a soft, eerie choir that drags him into the deepest slumber
he has ever been in.
===============================================================================
 
 
Judal is not a very good boy, he is getting tall and he feels like an adult at
his fourteen years of age. He strolls through the halls nonchalantly, he knows
he has to be in a meeting but he doesn’t care. Ithnan tells him he shouldn’t be
so selfish even if he is a lord magi, Markkio tells him he’s got to stop
ignoring the emperor like that. The magi shoves them off and jumps to the
nearest tree, and if they keep annoying him, he uses his magic carpet and flies
off to a place more pleasant, or quiet at least. Some of Al Thamen magicians
dare call him spoiled, but he flashes them his blinding, white grin and tells
them, no, ‘reminds’ them he is a magi and he can do whatever he pleases.
Spoiled, rotten, apathetic...he’s been called these names lately, so it means
he hasn’t been very good. But his magic skills have advanced impressively,
growing stronger day by day. Even Gyokuen acknowledges his strength, and he
thinks it’s a bit funny, even if he’s been a bad boy lately, the nightmares
have not returned…
He tries not to linger in those thoughts, probably those nightmare are just
childhood things, nothing more, nothing less. But deep down he knows. Deep down
he is beginning to understand. He feels he gets closer and closer to the truth
sometimes, but when he reaches his hand to grasp it, he forgets what he is
doing. These amnesia flashes are constant whenever he questions his position
and the magicians’ real business. He is a teenager and decides he has more
important things to do than fry his brain with trivial matters like that.
Bothering Kougyoku is more fun, talking with Kouen is more fun, looking for
Hakuryuu to invite him to a dungeon even if he always gets rejected is more fun
than running a fool’s errand.
===============================================================================
 
Judal is a rotten boy, he betrays Al Thamen. After being all those years with
them, after they have cared for him, clothed him, fed him, he repays them with
treason. And he loves every part of it. Still the veil between reality and
memories is set there, still he forgets things, he wonders if that’s a
secondary effect for all those years of living in the dark, but it doesn’t
matter anymore. He is not alone anymore. He has finally found his other half.
He loves taking Hakuryuu to a special dungeon, training besides him with his
new powers even when he feels he is walking on a tightrope that is his sanity
and it’s about to snap. He doesn’t care, he finally opens the cage and breathes
fresh air, he pulls his chain from their hands and is more than willing to give
it to his new king, he feels joy in doing so, he feels joy they share something
unique and that he is finally needed. They have the same goal and it seems more
attainable each day.  
===============================================================================
 
 Judal is a happy boy. He is elated he has found his fallen king, he trusts him
with everything he has, he will follow him to the ends of time if necessary, he
will break the world for him, he will rebuild the world for him, he’ll make a
carpet tinted crimson with the blood of their foes all the way to the throne on
the top of the world. Hakuryuu’s wishes are his desires, it is a great relief
to make them come true. His life finally has meaning. Happiness lives in short
moments in life, shining through instants, gone the moment you blink, Judal
understands this. But today, Judal is a happy boy.
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ng every inch of Harry's body with the towel. Harry's
prick twitched with interest when Sirius ran the rough fabric over it. Harry
blushed. Couldn't it ever behave?
Finally, Harry was dry, and standing naked by the fire. Sirius quickly toweled
himself off pulled the blanket and pillows off Harry's bed, spreading them out
in front of the fire. "Lie down," he said gently. "On your stomach."
Harry swallowed. He could still stay stop. He could say stop, and go back to
Hogwarts, and later, the Dursleys. Slowly, he knelt and then laid down, his
heart pounding and his stomach fluttering.
"Beautiful," Sirius said. His voice sounded wistful and far away, like he was
remembering something sad. Harry half-twisted around to look, but Sirius
stopped him with his hand. "Shh," he whispered, stroking Harry's back.
He stroked Harry's back like he was petting a cat, in long, soothing movements.
Harry gradually relaxed until his brain felt muzzy and his muscles were loose.
When Sirius started stroking down one leg and up the other, Harry sighed.
"Here," Sirius said, sliding a pillow under Harry's stomach. He kneaded Harry's
arse cheeks, pushing them together and spreading them apart.
A moan escaped Harry's mouth when something wet and slick replaced Sirius's
hands. Sirius tongued down Harry's spine and legs, licking his thighs, knees,
calves, and finally back up to his arse cheeks. He spread them with his hands,
and licked a line down the center.
"Um. I- I- wh- oh..." Harry babbled, tucking his knees under and arching into
Sirius's questing tongue. Sirius circled Harry's tiny puckered opening, then
stabbed wetly in. He plunged his tongue into Harry's arse and used his thumb to
stroke behind Harry's balls.
Harry couldn't think. He couldn't breathe, couldn't feel anything but that
tongue and thumb, each stroke sending a hot river of pleasure through his
veins. He arched and thrust back, shoving his arse onto Sirius's tongue.
His prick rubbed against the pillow. A keening whimper filled the air, and
Harry realized it was coming from him. He thrust forward, humping the pillow
once, twice-- and then, groaning, shot his spunk all over the pillow.
Harry felt like a jellyfish stranded on the beach. Limp, gelatinous, and
immobile. Sirius licked once more, then pressed a kiss on the base of Harry's
spine.
"I wonder how many times you could go before you passed out?" Sirius said
conversationally, brushing his fingers between Harry's crack.
Harry thought he'd pass out if Sirius touched him one more time. Still, his
body writhed under Sirius's fingers. It was as if everything he was had been
reduced to skin and prick, enslaved to Sirius's will.
When Sirius took his hand away, Harry moaned piteously. A moment later, Sirius
probed Harry's anus with a slick finger, sliding in past the first knuckle. He
stroked in and out, swirling his finger around, stretching Harry's opening. It
seemed like hours before Sirius inserted a second finger and started swirling
and stretching again.
Finally, Sirius removed his fingers and replaced them with a slippery, spongy,
blunt piece of flesh. It's his prick, Harry thought, he's going to put his
prick in me. Harry's muscles tightened. Sirius leaned forward, covering Harry's
back with his body. "Shh," he said, combing his fingers through Harry's hair.
"Shh. It's all right."
Harry relaxed, and Sirius pressed in slowly, gradually stretching Harry wider,
filling him. "Shh," Sirius repeated. "You're so good. So good."
An aching mix of pleasure and pain poured through Harry; he whimpered and
grabbed Sirius's hand, threading their fingers together.
"So good," Sirius said again. He moved, and Harry felt Sirius's pubic hairs
brush against his skin. He was in; he was all the way in. Harry remembered how
massive Sirius's cock looked, and he tightened his grip on Sirius's hand.
Sirius pulled back and thrust slowly back in. "Tight," he gasped. "You're so
tight, so good." He thrust again, and Harry gulped.
"Um. That-" he said, squeezing Sirius's hand. "That's... nice," he whispered.
Sirius groaned and thrust again, a little faster this time. Harry pushed back,
meeting Sirius's thrust. Together, they found a rhythm. Thrust- push- thrust-
push. Sirius whined and sped up, filling Harry with short, hard thrusts.
"Harry, Harry," he said, his body jerking and straining. His prick throbbed and
twitched inside Harry, and they finally collapsed in a sweaty, panting pile.
 
Harry's arse ached. Sirius's cock slipped--wet and limp--out. Sirius rolled
them onto their sides. Harry felt the air shift around them, and Sirius's skin
ripple and become fur.
Sirius whined again and nudged Harry's arse with his wet nose. Semen trickled
out; Sirius lapped it up with his long flat tongue.
Harry laughed. It was the most absurd thing he could imagine. He reached behind
and patted Sirius's head. "Good boy," he said.
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