Nicolas Mulciber

[tulvilagisetak]

turns out I’m a Powell

[nicomulciber]

madeline-nottyourbabe‌:

“Sing who?” Madeline’s brows furrowed but she ultimately shrugged, dismissing it. “Whatever, Nicolas. Either pass me a cigarette or don’t smoke, y’know I’m going to want one to. And sure. Forest sounds fine.“ She drew her thick cloak tighter around herself as she nudged his shoe with hers. “Lead the way.”

“I don’t know. Some arse I heard the name of walking by their posse of Lemmings.” Nicolas muttered with an eye roll. A lot of people annoyed Mulciber to the point he often flirted with the idea of making them vanish altogether. He glances to Madeline with a devious smirk and hands her a free cig. “Of course. Everyone needs a smoke to deal with these people.” He grumbled grumpily but started to lead the way to the forest. “Hear anything interesting these days?”

[nicomulciber]

jimthestag‌:

James raised a brow, recognizing the voice instantly. He huffed a cocky laugh as though the boy wasn’t even worth his time. Then again, James found it hard to back down from a challenge–– particularly one coming from a Slytherin. 

“Race? You need me inna half petrified state to have any chance beating me, Mulciber?” He laughed, holding his broom in place stubbornly. 

“Surprised you didn’t ask me while I was still under.” He jabbed the broom forwards to poke at him. “Wanker.”

James was cocky but not stupid. He knew he wouldn’t be as fast right now, as his usual playing speed. And he wasn’t prepared to lose to Mulciber. 

This cocky bastard. Nicolas shouldn’t have thought any differently when he approached Potter. However, his lips curled into an unsettled grin with devious intent. 

“Oh so it is true that you’ll still lose? Tsk. Where’s that will of yours Potter? Not woken up yet?” Mulciber taunted the other boy with a chuckle. 

Once the broom jabbed him however his reaction turned void. He lifted up the wand in his pocket and swirled it around towards the broomstick. “ Expelliarmus “ Nicolas muttered with precise utterance, his eyes glaring at the other one. Still waiting to see if it did connect and knock the broom from the other’s hand.

“I could go over and wank someone else.” He took notes on whom he had seen in and out of the hospital wing. “One of your pleb friends perhaps.”

[nicomulciber]

violet-greengrass‌:

Violet snickered. “Alright, I still don’t believe you, but I’m just so glad you finished that sentence the way you did, because I’ll be honest, I was gearing up to lay down some hard conversational boundaries as soon as you mentioned Lucy and screaming in the same sentence. Thanks for not scarring me for life.” She reached into the little bag of candy to flick yet another one into the flames, but the bag was empty. “Candy,” she reached out her hand towards Nico unthinkingly, the way she usually did with Lucy and baking ingredients she definitely wasn’t putting into the actual baking, but ate immediately. 

“Come on, I’d hope that the first person such an unstable squib with sudden magic would off would be himself. I mean, it’s great material for a spooky story, but in reality I worry way more about unstable blokes with a lot of political power,” Violet huffed, before being shaken out of her sudden gloomy mood by his opinion. “I don’t even know what to say to that. People wear shoes? You don’t have to touch their feet even if you’re chopping them off with an axe or a saw, just hold down their shins or something? And some people have rotting food scraps wedged between their teeth. How is that not disturbing you more? You’d have to see and touch that if you were getting the teeth out!”

“Oh, I can’t quite remember that,” Violet lied quickly. There was no way she wouldn’t remember Aunt Acantha, who was way too good-looking for her age, tell her the single most horrifying bedtime story of her life. She used to be enamored with the idea of marrying a very handsome boy, and her grandmother thought that was a great thing to not have. So she invited Aunt Acantha over to tell Violet about her gorgeous husband who forgot to mention that pesky little curse, and was now sadly dead. After that jarring ghoul incident all the Greengrass women came over to support Acantha and they made sure he had a proper will before murdering him and his entire household with absolute mercilessness and in total secrecy. “Maybe, or you’d be absolutely unhinged from having to recite those rubbish stories. You have to give it to your mother though, she had a commitment to the whole intimidating Mulciber vibe,” Violet snorted out a laugh. “Me neither, but there was that old House Elf a while back who accidentally poisoned someone… ah, what was her name? Old, rich biddy. Her House Elf just straight up murdered her out of stupidity. Then again,  some said it was just folks a bit too keen on inheriting in a timely fashion.”

Nico’s grin grew scandalous at her comment, “If you want I could go into detail about that. I’m all about scarring people.” He laughed crudely. They both knew he was half telling the truth, because he had threatened her with bodily harm multiple times. With a scoff he looks down to her hand with a curious head canted to the side. “What? I don’t have anymore.” He playfully swatted her hand, but used his wand to conjure up more anyway and toss a piece towards her. “Incoming candy.”

“Preferably, yes. Off themselves right off. Political power?” He quirked a brow and glanced to her wordless for the moment. “Such as our lovely selection of the Minister of Magic, Gaunt, and Voldemort you mean? Classy the whole lot of them.” Mulciber muttered with a hint of annoyance.  “Imagine if one of them turned into a giant green flaming head and came after all of us. Now there’san ace horror story.” He replied with another forming grin at the topic of hand.  “Civilized people wear shoes. Are we speaking about civilized people?” Mulciber asked with another slow loft of his brow.  “Oi you don’t have to touch teeth to extract them. Just use your wand or a knife and certain cut marks, but feet. Ew.” Nicolas twists his face in disgust just thinking of the filthy things.

“Hmm. That’s a possibility. I don’t know how many times I could listen to those rubbish stories before I snapped. I get angry enough easily as is now. Could you imagine?” The boy laughs along with her. “Oh bloody hell. What was that slore’s name? Beatrice? Oi, was it Beatrice Avery?” His forehead wrinkles in focused thought as he tried to remember himself the name of the old biddy Violet spoke about. “Man. Wonder what she did? I mean my blimey house elf hasn’t tried to kill me yet.”

[nicomulciber]

Most of the students had been back in their dorms, except Nicolas. Brooding in his normal corner with the cigarette he puffed betwixt his lips. The figure he had been awaiting for neared and he exhaled a cloud of smoke. “Finally, fuck.” He snapped towards Madeline, but quickly smirked to her deviously instead. Nicolas couldn’t be in the halls of Hogwarts right now. It was too stuffy and it caused him to mull over his ex more than he would have liked.

“Oi, ready to blow this joint? Go to the forest?” Nico motioned with his hand towards the doors a few feet from them. “I think if I hear one more Hufflepuff sing John Lennon. I’m going to kill myself.” Nevermind the fact he knew whom John Lennon was, but the Puffs were irritating him much more than normal now.

@madeline-nottyourbabe

[nicomulciber]

🍺

Toasted was understatement as he rounded the halls of the Slytherin common area. Bumping into the wall and using it for a crutch to keep him from sliding off his feet. The redhead hummed as he zigzagged until he plopped into the couch, humming dreamily as he took another gulp from the decanter of whiskey he had commandeered from under someone’s bed. 

Glossy blues turn to the figure that gets nearest to him. His eyes roll into the back of his head. Unleashing an unpleasant grunt he managers to slur out, “What the bloody Shalazar are you here?” 

[nicomulciber]

ratboypettigrew‌:

“Mmm.” Peter hummed out softly, not quite answering Mulciber’s question, but more than willing to leave the door open for it to go either way. After all, he had been the one to start this whole game with that comment about things getting rough, and honestly, he had never really been above trying a little bit of anything. He was more adventurous than people at Hogwarts probably gave him credit for. Then again, most of his adventures were highly guarded secrets. And the ones that weren’t were a little tamer than he would really prefer.

A strained chuckle left him as he felt the bite of rough nails in his skin. Honestly, he was relishing in the feeling, wondering how far he could go before the little black spots started appearing in his vision. Maybe the idea of being choked out did appeal to him. He’d never actually gotten this far.

“True, but isn’t my way much more fun for all parties involved? I won’t even ask for a safe word.” That playful tone was still there even as his forehead wrinkled slightly. Seems that Peter may have hit a nerve, and honestly, he wanted to tweak that nerve until something broke. It was an awful idea, and if he didn’t go back to his dorm tonight with at least a broken nose, he would be surprised. “Oh? Loosening your tie and expecting to see your best friend in a dark empty classroom that no one ever uses?” Peter couldn’t help it with the hand that had jerked his tie move to twist up into Mulciber’s hair, giving it a little tug. “Don’t worry, I’ve never had to worry about jealous boyfriends before.”

As he spoke, he leaned in closer, fighting against the hand around his throat until his lips were a hairs breath away from Nic’s, making sure he could feel him breathing out as he spoke again in a whisper. “Come on, Nic. Do you want to get rid of some of that pent up aggression? I’ll let you as long as I get to have fun, too.” A pause, and he chuckled and moved back again. “But you’re a fool if you think I’ll let you cut me up like one of your mudblood dolls.”

“ Here you said you like It rough.. yet..I beg to differ.” Mulciber commented since Peter didn’t really answer him about the asphyxiation part. There’s a genuine laugh that parts from his lips feeling his anger subside just for the minute. Most of his experience laid with Malfoy, but he didn’t really have any interest in other men or peers. Yet, there was something about Peter that challenged him, and he would be telling a lie if he didn’t say he was slightly intrigued by this new notion in him.

The movement of the flesh from his chuckle against his fingernails taunted him. The reaction made him think he wasn’t choking the other boy hard enough. Lingering temptation causing his thumb more importantly to jab in harder against Peter’s throat.

“You mean, you get safety without uttering a word.” Mulciber tsk’d the other boy, “Surely you know there is no safe word either way.” He commented thoughtfully, but felt himself grow increasing irate with his inner indecisiveness. Lucius still had his ring, even though it was the same ring that had ended their extracurricular relationship in hidden areas. Occasionally he could manipulate the situation hoe he wanted it. Peter’s next words jarred him back into the now of things. “I-“ He clamped his lips shut rolling his eyes euphorically as his hair is given a slight tug.  “You’re here in this dark classroom half dressed, what does that mean for you?” Mulciber retorted biting his lower lip.

“You’re missing out. Jealousy can be fun.” He uttered honestly, and became more increasingly strained in his mind. He wasn’t going to humor Peter, he had told himself.  There were many things he pictured doing to Pettigrew, but when their mouths were almost pressed against each other it drove him past a point of his brittle humanity.  A soft laugh leaves his lips, “That’s funny.” Nicolas murmured wrestling his other hand to dangle at his side, reaching for his wand. “Heh.. Let’s get to the real fun.” He steered his face closer to Peter’s, getting close enough as Peter had done to him.  “I don’t think you have much of a choice, do you?” Intertwining their breathing patterns, hot air mixed with hot air.  Pulling back his lips he scraped his teeth against the other boy’s lips, before murmuring against them sadistically. “How would you like a brand new scar?”

The alarming beguiled grin returning to his features.

[nicomulciber]

Sometimes a date is an arse too.

[nicomulciber]

violet-greengrass‌:

Violet did not deem his words worthy of a response. They were both purebloods, they were both raised properly, but she strongly doubted that his upbringing was quite as extensive on etiquette and the value of propriety as hers was. Some days she doubted any man ever got that amount of bloody classiness and elegance drilled into their every movement as some pureblood girls did, but that was not something she dwelled on anymore. Violet has accepted a long time ago that, for the better or worst, she was a woman and that it meant airs and appearances, it meant looking effortless, looking perfect, and that it translated murder and violence into words and poison, but never any real blood on her hands.

Momentary slip-ups were allowed, if she could correct them, make them forgotten. But messing this up was not something she could fix later; this was not a slight social blunder she could blame on some minor distress. This whole clusterfuck could easily develop into a life-or-death situation, and Violet carefully, cruelly smothered each and every one of her useless emotions about what was happening. No anger, no annoyance at the pettiness of him pouring more wine in his glass. No desperation, no worry, no fear about the possible hell her life could become, married to Nicolas Mulciber of all people. It was a cold feeling, letting calculation stomp out every last bit of emotion in her, and not one that Violet necessarily liked—but she was intimately familiar with the sensation nonetheless.

“Only the expected, I’m afraid,” she responded, her tone bright and clear and empty of any real feeling that has previously coloured her voice. “Becoming the head of the family, and all that that entails. And what about yourself?” Her already cold gaze plunged into blood-freezing territory with his next words. “If you think I will go through with this out of the goodness of my heart, think again. I’m not a charity for gay men, risking my reputation and my family’s future just to act as a cover. Oh yes, it would be so perfect for the two of you, because no one would suspect anything if Lucy visited often, would they?” Violet let out a humourless little laugh, that sounded just like a proper young lady’s who have heard a rather funny remark. “I will put this very simply; I don’t care about you. As things look right now, having you as my husband would be a liability at best, and a downright threat at worst. So we are either going to make a deal, Mulciber, or I will take the blow to my reputation right now and save my future. Which one?”

She stopped her fingers from drumming on the table impatiently. As far as she was concerned, the ball was squarely in his court at the moment, and she was content with the choice she offered. Violet would make things work for her either way in the end. “That’s irritating,” she commented mildly. “But alright then. Depending on your choice I can signal my grandmother to make them leave, or we can quickly finish this dinner and I will tell her that I won’t go through with this.” She took a small sip from her glass of wine, appearing to taste it carefully as she pondered over his words. “Can’t say that I’m surprised,” Violet finally said, voice still emotionless. “So, just to be clear, your father is not at all worried about mistreating me in any way. I get that he is absolutely unconcerned with trifles like ethics or social decency, but you are telling me that he would also harm another family’s head without a second thought.” 

Violet took another sip, seemingly idle gaze connecting with the much more murderous-looking one of Nicodamus Mulciber for a second. Poison, she decided, something bespoke, something quick and new. And no access to any children of mine, ever. “I appreciate your honesty,” she directed her gaze back to Nicolas, putting the glass back on the table. “But I’m sure you understand that this marriage is looking worse and worse for me.”

Nicolas tried to concentrate wholeheartedly of dipping out of this restaurant. However, with the present company he couldn’t very well do that. With his father holding his wand hostage, and just thinking of what could happen if he popped out of here speedily. No, the more he thought about this dinner he was fucked beyond relief. Instead he had to play this petty war exchange with his possibly future wife. The thought made him feel nauseous and he almost wanted to keep thinking about it to puke all over their table. However, the backlash for social embarrassment would likely almost kill him. No matter how vigorously he pumped new ideas into his mind, there’s one common denominator to eliminating them all – his father.

He makes the mistake of staring the elder in the ye, before he looks back to Violet. Moving the wine glass over his lips to take another drink. How had Violet’s hag of a grandmother not remove  her out of here yet? What would his father do in that case? Would he still pay for it? The questions were barely a passing though, because he knew all the answers were yes. “I was thinking of a job at the Ministry.” He shrugged his shoulders passively executing the fake charming smile across his lips. This was bloody ridiculous as he felt his cheeks actually pinch from keeping the façade on. “That’s right, and okay if that’s how you feel.. Well..Now is the time to let us both out.” Nicolas whispered with his devious smirk covered partially with his wine glass.  Nicolas watched her quietly for a minute, and thought back to their constant bickering on the pitch. “You will? In front of all these peoples.” Nico sighed into his wine glass taking another healthy gulp. Vivid blue eyes fastening on her, challenging her to do just that. “Go ahead. Do it. I won’t be blackmailed about this. You’re forgetting this society Violet. Who are they going to believe?”

Nicolas’s nostrils flared as he thought about the silver lining to this entire night – his own survival. He doubted the grandhag witch that brought Violet here would actually torture her for being attracted to anything that breathed. Himself, however, would have to think of how to discredit everything she said. It disgusted him, but the more he dwelt on this the more he convinced himself it need be. That he could swing this in his court. All was not lost in this exchange. He poured himself another wine starting to feel the heat from the alcohol. A slow knowing smile turned towards her. “Ask them to leave, and then afterwards you can tell her to find you a better suitor.” He whispered, but shook his head when the conversation took on his father. “He’s in tight with Riddle, and he’s already been to Azkaban. He’s almost killed his own children; do I really need to go on?” He asked in a hushed whisper with his eyebrows raising.

He cast her a hollow gaze behind a crafted smile. The whole entire dinner so far had been this way, as he picked at the food with little interest. “And you think what? That I care?”

[nicomulciber]

violet-greengrass‌:

Violet ignored the insult and the crystal clear threat of violence that practically radiated from Nicolas. If anything, she felt pleased; she never enjoyed cruelty for cruelty’s sake, but she did love unraveling others with just her words. It was a rare pleasure to be had, of course, because if she could help it, Violet did not make enemies. Hostility made her slightly uncomfortable and with that sensitivity plus her empathy the Hat was right to sort her into Hufflepuff—but that same empathy and sensitiveness also let her get under people’s skin with torturous precision. It was a game, especially if the other person took the bait as readily as the boy beating the bludger back towards her, and Violet had to resist a smug little smirk.

“I’m sure that physically hurting me will improve your situation,” she deflected the bludger, angling the hit slightly so that it would be aiming for his legs instead of his upper body. “An excellent plan, much like trying to insult probably the only person who is putting up with your stupidity at the moment. And I don’t need to know you or your position any more than I already do, you’re not nearly as complicated as you think,” Violet added, even the smallest trace of malice erased from her voice until it was cool and calm, almost jovially condescending. She really hoped that would set him off even more than undisguised animosity. This was way more entertaining than messing with her housemates or some of the unfortunately boring men at galas and the likes, and she was eager to see how far she can push him until he finally snaps—but preferably still remembers not to hurt her—or realizes her gambit.

“Ah yes, you are the epitome of mystery,” Violet commented, tone kept mild and conversational. “But you see, I’m not worried about you babbling about your plans,” she continued casually, “I’m concerned about your ability to make plans at all. You’re just… how can I put it nicely? Too emotional,” Violet said with a saccharine smile. That was always a fun thing to tell angry people, with the added benefit of being less obvious than suggesting they calmed down before they continued to talk. She was pushing buttons almost leisurely now, trying to see what actually got a reaction. “Stellar observation. I so often find myself share my deepest, darkest secrets with people whose motivations I can’t reasonably trust.”

Violet quirked an eyebrow, not even bothering to beat the quaffle back, hitting it back down on the ground. “There’s an idea. A monumentally idiotic one, but the bar is being constantly lowered for you, Mulciber, so don’t worry love, you’ll get there. A better plan would be just silently poisoning your father and taking his place or accusing him of treachery and let Riddle do it, but if you feel keen on punching the man in the face, by all means. It might make him question where your loyalties lie, but I’m sure that shining personality of yours and the hot looks would get you out of the boiling water.” Violet fought the ice cold sneer that threatened to crack her offensively neutral expression, but a too-wide smile slipped curled her lips hearing Nicolas’ concern. “Oh nothing, don’t worry about whatever he said. I guess Lucy is just one of those friends I had to buy. But what can I say? Seems like he cares more about my lack of personality and looks than about you, since we’re still close. Sorry.”

“It will improve my mood tremendously to physically harm you.” He stated sharply with his blazing ire gaze locked onto her. The bludger aimed for his legs almost hits, but he’s able to beat it back hard towards her face of all places. He lets out a loud curse when it doesn’t connect as he wants it to. “You can just fly off this fucking bitch you cunt.” Nicolas hissed any sort of humanity depleted, and the existence of that solid list saving her started to get slowly more insignificant. “The only thing complicated is trying to get you to shut the fuck up.” Mulciber yelled towards her as the veins in his forehead almost looked to bulge out of his forehead.

It’s the most furious he had been in such a long time, and part of it felt so completing. The next set of words caused him to almost snap his own broom in half as he levitated with it up in the sky. “TOO EMOTIONAL?!” Nicolas shrieked like an angered male banshee. The fair white of his complexion lost under the red, even his vision started to blur and become riddled with red specks. A look she would later comment on his father having by normal standards – yet it was murderous in nature. All his triggers and buttons pressed, it was just missing on vital thing to make him soar over there and kick her off her broom.

“Of course you fucking do. Probably pray to good ole Tom Riddle that you’ll end up a washed up hag. Alone and decrepit. I can grant that for you though.” There’s a laugh unnerving in nature that passes his lips, deep in vocals, but truly terrifying in nature. He had started to slowly calm himself, turning his head right and then left to pop it.  He groaned as it was getting insanely more painful to even look at Violet on the pitch. However, he didn’t trust her enough to send a quaffle or bludger at his face. “Do you honestly believe everything you hear, you stupid bird?” Nicolas grunted still feeling the boil in his blood. “But to answer your question my tight little arse would also save me.” He spat out towards her as he started to fly in a charging formation towards her. “Let me take you out of the fucking equation then.”

[bambicest]

[nicomulciber]

ratboypettigrew‌:

Peter snorted out a laugh before he could stop himself, a hand reaching up to brush back an errant strand of hair that had landed on his forehead. “Eres un pedazo de mierda.” The words were muttered softly, almost fondly but with a bite to them that threatened something far darker. Still, Peter would have been an idiot to note the feeling of the other boy’s eyes on him, and the smirk that it brought to his face was hidden behind another quick sip of his water. It would be a bit much to lean into the tension too early. Peter had spent most of his summer break learning the intricacies of seducing men in a seedy pub in Manchester, playing into things like innocence could be just as effective as being brash and bold.

He was the master, he liked to think, of playing both rather evenly. After all, people at Hogwarts seemed to think that Peter was stupid.

He could use it to his advantage.

Seeing the flash of surprise in Nic’s eyes was enough to send a jolt of amused pleasure up his spine, something that he almost shuddered at as he locked onto those eyes staring back at him. This was most definitely going to end in one of two ways, and while it could win him brownie points with that stupid resistance to take out the likes of Mulciber, he was hoping that it would twist to the other. Still, when his hand fell away and he felt one close around his own neck, the soft gasp he drew in and let out as a soft groan was surprising, to say the least. “Fuck, Mulciber, how’d you know I like it rough?” Even with his life very much threatened, Peter shot the other boy a cheeky wink.

A hand shot up to catch his where it came toward his face, and he wrapped his own hand around the other boy’s wrist, taking a slow step back to press his back against the wall, letting his head fall back and closing his eyes for a moment, face still twisted into that smirk. “Tighten your grip a bit and I’ll happily give you a few ideas.” As he spoke, his free hand reached out grip at the loose tie around his neck, jerking it hard to pull him forward. “Then again, wouldn’t want your boyfriend to catch us if you’re expecting him.”

Pettigrew was bold but that shouldn’t have come as such a shocker considering the house he was sorted into. His patience was worn thin and his mind powered on to the many form of torturing he could do to calm his nerves. However, Peter was a thorn in his side being one that he couldn’t necessarily dispose of how he wished. A minuscule part of him wanted to entertain Pettigrew and drink in every detail of the boy’s body to find any irregularities that saved him from the abuse he had endured continuously. This spark only ignited when Peter’s hand was around his throat, making him feel more predatory than normal.

He could blame this infatuation with other males on the Amortentia he brewed with Lucius Malfoy, but he had a feeling it had been something that developed since he started his years at Hogwarts. Pining over someone he assumed to be straight, except for that one fateful night. He wasn’t confident what the truth of Peter was, but he would be stupid to not see some of the similarities for what they were. Just the way Peter rolled the ‘r’ with his accent when he mentioned the word, ‘rough’. “Just how rough hm? Asphyxiation turn you on?”  Imprinting his nails to scratch against Peter’s flesh. Not hard enough to break skin, but enough to feel the mild pain of his skin slightly shaved. The wink caused Nicolas to roll his eyes, and then that’s when his hand gets caught by the other.

Nicolas pressed his body against Peter in an attempt to pin him against the wall by his hand still around the boy’s neck. “I don’t need ideas, Pettigrew.” He spoke again noting the other’s distaste for being referred to by his last name. Though he does tighten the grip on Peter’s throat with a murderous smirk. “There are other ways to make you scream.” He feels his head yank forward almost touching foreheads against the other boy but he stops before they touch completely.

 “Don’t refer to him as that again.” Nicolas hissed the breath of air from his lips heated along with his untamed anger. He made the motion to bring Peter’s head forward before he tried to slam it into the wall the boy had behind him. “He’s just my best friend, and you screaming from a little carving party won’t change that.” There’s another growl that almost seems to vibrate from his throat, “What about your boyfriends?”

[nicomulciber]

📕 + 17 for Narcissa

here! 

@narcisenoire

[nicomulciber]

@narcisenoire

The morning started out mundane, but as it progressed something on the pit of his stomach didn’t feel right. Doom, Gloom, something dreadful on the horizon that he couldn’t quite place his finger on. It wasn’t until the family Owl dropped a parchment in front of him, that he found his fingers shaking to tear it open apart. A rare sight indeed was it to see Mulciber backpedal from the chair and stare at the package. By the looks of it a finger that had been severed long before its time, with a clear note on the expectations about betrothals.

Something to keep him in line. He tried not to imagine his sister’s hand missing a finger or that deranged smile frozen upon her lips until they either cured her or she passed on. Something about the letter made him think about half of his predicament, mainly one of them named Narcissa. As he rounded the corner in the dungeon to the girl’s room he paused to stare idly at the shadow of a figure he thought was his sister.

That wasn’t possible, was it? Nicolas took a few labored breaths pocketing the appendage into his pocket for future bartering. He didn’t knock softly, instead rasping his knuckles against the door fervently. “Narcissa Black. I need to speak to Narcissa fucking Black.”

[nicomulciber]

ratboypettigrew‌:

“Peter.” That accent of his had always, he had heard, been the sexiest thing about him. The way the ‘R’ at the end of his name trilled off his own tongue, twisted and fell so easily as he quickly corrected the other boy, smirk never once leaving his face. “My name, mi amour, is Peter. Just as yours is Nicholas.” His voice dropped to barely above a whisper as he said the other’s name, eyes watching his face, looking for a reaction, looking to see if he could really rile the ginger up. That was the fun of the whole thing, after all. Get Mulciber all worked up. He’d gotten straighter men into bed that way.

Though his intentions weren’t exactly that. Well… Not completely, anyway. People thought the likes of Peter Pettigrew was that of a wimpy little sycophantic, and he had no intention of letting that image remain behind closed doors. Sure, he could keep up the facade to the general public, it kept people sympathetic to him and it kept his position as a mole under wraps. But he had no reason to pretend to be something he wasn’t with the likes of Mulciber.

Still, something sparked to life in his eyes when the other boy spoke again. Amusement mixed with a flash of annoyance, watching as the distance between them lessened. He wondered if Nic expected him to back away, to back down from whatever challenge he was presenting.

Of course, he wouldn’t. There was no fun in it. 

Instead, he waited, waited just long enough that his personal space was invaded before he reached out to wrap his hand around Nic’s neck, not squeezing, but letting him feel the pressure there for a moment. “That, amour, is a very rude thing to say.  Just because you probably have mommy issues doesn’t mean I’ll let you speak ill of mine.” 

Still his hand fell away and he grabbed his shirt again, tossing it over his head and letting it hang open for a moment. “No, I haven’t seen Malfoy. Should I have?”

The accent did make him turn again to eye Pettigrew with a look that seemed mixed with confusion and mild intense curiosity. The way he rolled the ‘R’ had him inwardly twitching at the other. Nicolas’s lips turned into a sneer after he ran his tongue over them. “I really don’t fucking care what your first name is, Petey.” He commented still unraveling the tie from around his neck. Perhaps he could get Pettigrew to leave and then he could wait around to see if Lucius showed up. It sounded like a win-win situation to him at least. Though he still had to move his trained eye away from Peter, to keep from drinking in every detail of his upper torso. Part of him had an itch to touch his flesh, but he combated this instead with the reminder that Peter wasn’t a Pureblood nor was he a Lucius Malfoy.

He hadn’t made any movements to gather his wand or his blade, but he was mildly taken by surprise. Peter’s had around his neck made him bite his lower lip. Feeling the force of the back of the other’s fingers grappled around his neck. Nicolas’s intense baleful blues locked onto Peter’s face as he spoke, his eyes narrowing into a reckless glare. His accent may have caressed his general curiosity, but it wouldn’t save him from Mulciber’s temper.

After his hand fell away from his neck, Nicolas swiftly moved to grab onto Peter’s neck, or at least part of it. Digging his nail into the flesh with an underlying smirk that might have signified something else too. “Do you actually like your mommy? Is she the contamination in your blood?” He remarked with a dark nature chuckle. “Heh.. “ He moved his other hand in an attempt to give a not so soft pat to Peter’s cheek with a conniving grin. “Just wondering.. now…hmm..what should I do with you?”

[nicomulciber]

dorcasrainemeadowes‌:

“First of all, my ears are tiny, fuck you very much.” Dorcas shot back quickly, twisting just enough to throw her legs over his lap and stretch back on her elbows, eyes rolling as her head fell back to soak in some of the weak sunlight hitting her. If she had her choice, she would be literally anywhere else, and yet sitting and chatting with Nic Mulciber seemed to be a norm for her. She blamed childhood friendship, knowing on some level that she and Nic had grown apart a lot, but also being far too comfortable in the familiar of the whole thing.

“Second of all, I don’t know, Nicky, I don’t know why the world would be so cruel and awful to pair you with hot guy who is fun to look at. Woe is you and all that bullshit. Get over it. Could be worse, you could have ended up paired with…” Reaching up, she pushed her glasses against her nose as she tilted her head up again, a smirk on her face. “…I don’t bloody know, Fucking Peter or Sirius or something. Want to talk about a bunch of wankers.” It hurt a bit to talk about people she would, really, consider good friends, but she did have a cover to maintain.

An eyebrow lifted at his subject change, along with the smirk falling away. Whatever this was, it was bound to be worth a laugh or two, at the very least, and perhaps it was a little scrap of information that she could take back at best. After all, what was the point of connections with these shitty people who would kill her in a heartbeat if it didn’t eventually help her cause. “You haven’t talked to me about Violet Greengrass, but please, do tell. Hopefully it’s more fun than your hour long rant on Henry Mckinnon.” 

“Tiny as fucking what? Not tinier than a giant’s nose.” Nicolas teased her not really meaning much about it. The sun was annoying him, but he didn’t feel like admitting that the cast of light was bothering him like it might a troll under a bridge. Though that didn’t disrupt his poised rant against Henry Mckinnon. Their kindred ignorant alliance they had agreed upon when they could barely speak seemed to have kept through time. It was like having a sister that wasn’t a crippled that stared out of a window longingly.

“Henry Mckinnon, hot?” He scoffed with a dismissive wave of his hand in the air. “Not my type.” Not that he was entirely sure if she knew that he was a homosexual or not. “He’s a stoic prick, and I’d rather be paired with a cute wanker at least.” Mulciber huffed with an eyeroll to the ceiling before locking his gaze with her. “Gross. I’d much rather scorch them out of the classroom then have to sit next to either of them.” Nicolas didn’t let on to the fact he knew Dorcas was friends with those types of people. It only was common sense considering her House, but still ultimately, she was someone he could quite possibly almost trust but want to murder in the same breath.

“I could go on longer with Henry Mckinnon. Considering I’m forced to share a dorm room with him too.” Mulciber’s tone more irate than normal. “My father wants her to be my betrothed. Imagine me and a bloody Hufflepuff?” He laughed this time manically at the thought. “About the only time she even shows an ounce of aggression is when she’s at the pitch. What the blimey hell am I supposed to do with that?” He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth pensively, “Any news on who you’re going to marry? Fucking Henry Mckinnon?”

[ratboypettigrew]

Something that Peter was well aware most people didn’t know about him was his very strict work out regimen. He would spend an hour (at least) every day down in one of the abandoned dungeon classes, one that he had cleared the desks from the center of, and he would go the whole nine. Push ups, sits ups, stretches. He had, at one point, had an old threadbare punching bag in the room as well, but he had no idea where it had gone between pre-break and his extended hiatus from Hogwarts.

After dinner always seemed to be the best time. No one was every around as it was, but after dinner there was no one wandering the halls, either, at least, not many. He was free to work out in peace, free to get some excess energy and stress out. It was also ideal now, after his return, because people were less likely to see the scarring cross-crossing up his back and around his shoulders, the after effects of his activities while he had been away. 

He had told his idiot friends that he’d been held captive and tortured for information, and the scars had definitely helped solidify that story. The true nature of them, well.

That was his business for now.

Just as he lifted himself from the floor to grab his water, grab his shirt from the floor to wipe a bit of sweat from his forehead, he heard the door behind him open and he paused in his steps for only a moment before continuing on his path. He tried to pick out a distinctive step pattern, one that he was familiar with, but this wasn’t one of his friends, not one that he spent a lot of time around.

He took his time grabbing his things before twisting to look at who had joined him, eyes almost immediately lighting up when he saw exactly who it was, twisting to face the other boy fully and resting on the edge of one of the shoved away desks. Still, he didn’t say anything right away, eyes simply lingering for a moment on the face before trailing down and then back up again.

“Enjoying the view, hermoso?” Peter couldn’t quite help the cheeky wink sent toward the red-head before he let out a chuckle and took a sip of his water. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

@nicomulciber

[nicomulciber]

It was the Bewitching hour in a sense, one that he would have normally met Malfoy in a dark place. To assert which of the two were the more dominant one in their relationship, and it was this moment that carried him towards the dungeons. He did have a labor intensive workout planned, but not exactly in the way Peter had been going at it. No matter the circumstances, he always had anger in his footwork with a slight stomp of each step. Unable to find his ex in their normal spots he paused hearing something beside this specific door.

He loosened his tie expectantly as he shoves the door open carelessly of his own force. The alarming squeak it emits of his presence causes him to grit his teeth. Annoyed, especially when he sees the other, the closer he gets to him that is. Pulling in a breath through his teeth he finds himself eyeing the other boy from head to toe. Swiftly turning his gaze to the side with an agitated huff. “Pettigrew.” He snapped instantly irked.

Nicolas was tired of the ever growing list of people he couldn’t harm. Peter he was surprised to hear was on such a list from his father, but it wasn’t something he had questioned. Why the bloody hell would he bother his old man with that type of questioning? He couldn’t deny that the other’s post workout physique didn’t give him a little skip to his heart. However, he tried his best to shut it down while diverting his gaze slightly with barred teeth. “I should be asking you the same thing. Come to work out the mud out of your blood? Tsk.” Mulciber tutted at the other boy as he started to lessen the distance between them.

Sure, Peter Pettigrew was off the killing list, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t put the other in a choke hold to let out some pent up aggression. “Seen Malfoy around?”

[nicomulciber]

ivy-slughorn‌:

Ivy didn’t even have to look over to know who’d sat next to her, knowing exactly who he was simply by the sound of his voice. She let out a deep sigh, already feeling a headache forming as she turned to face the boy. Nicolas Mulciber, exactly the kind of person she tried to avoid. He always seemed to rub her the wrong way and he was too nosy for her liking. He either knew that she was hiding something, or he was the one who was actually hiding something. Whichever it was, she didn’t want to know and would rather not find out. Of course her obvious disdain for the boy only seemed to make him even more pushy and insistent. She supposed that she should just be grateful he hadn’t decided to bother her during potions class when she would have to pretend to be nice. 

“Well there’s a reason for that Mulciber.” She retorted, not bothering to give the boy a proper answer. He seemed to be attempting to be nice, that didn’t mean she would do the same. “What have I done to deserve your company today?” Ivy gave him a fake smile, sarcasm dripping in her voice as she hoped he would allow her to return to her studying soon. Studying was something she greatly needed to do, for most of her classes. 

Mulciber wasn’t a fool, he knew that he grated the girl’s nerves. However, he didn’t care, because he figured he would be able to finagle it to his advantage somehow. Blue hues stare through her as she retorts with a slow maddening smirk. “What is the reason? I’d thought you’d want to know what your father says about you when you’re not around.” Nicolas quipped keeping his terrible temper in close check at least for the time being.  Now he’s wondering if perhaps he should have cornered her in Potions class and that would have been best for him. Make no mistake, when it came to the girl herself, he held little regard to her existence. It’s just her connections were solid at Hogwarts, and perhaps he could somehow annoy Violet by proxy by using the girl in front of him.

“Oh, nothing. I’m just checking up on you. It’s what a decent person would do.” A smug laugh leaves his lips, mentally noting the sarcasm that riddled each word that came out of her mouth. He was ready to half listen to her remarks, but instead he persisted with his appearance. Not taking any note to leave or turn away from her. “We’ll study potions together.” He spoke with little question to his tone.