Author: hikaru / _regarde
Archive: Please ask permission.
Feedback: If you so desire.
Rating: NC-17 for violence, rape, language.
Warnings: non-con, voyeurism, use of Unforgivables. But mostly non-con.
Pairings: Lucius Malfoy/Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy/Sirius Black, implied Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Disclaimer: They're all J. K. Rowling's, and I've got the feeling that she'd have my head for this.
Summary: Lucius and Severus set out to do the Dark Lord's bidding in a most hideous of ways.
Notes: This was written for an RPG that I was in a very long time ago. Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, having repeatedly thwarted the Death Eaters, were planning their very own wedding. Using his nefarious means, Voldiekins found out about this and set his two must trusted puppets, Lucius and Severus, out to stop it. Using the services of an Imperio'ed Colin Creevy, Lucius and Severus track his location and teach him a lesson or two.
Word Count: 1000 or thereabouts.
One hunch led to a tip led to a solid lead led to Lucius and Severus skulking about, hidden under invisibility cloaks and concealment charms, waiting for what could be the most important hit in years for both men. For Lucius, it would mean redemption in the eyes of Lord Voldemort; for Severus, it would mean that perhaps the restrictions upon his communications with Harry would be lifted and he could go home again.
"Stop the wedding at any costs," He commanded. "Stop the wedding, kill the mutt and the werewolf, make them suffer, make them hurt and burn and pay and tourmenttorturehurturthurt," He hissed, twisting his long, bony fingers and contorting in both pain and pleasure, anticipating the blood and the come and the tears and the anguish that his pretty, pretty Deatheaters would shed of the opposition on his behalf.
The two obliged His commands, utilising the lower ranks to follow up on leads and intercepted owls and hints and names and lines that have been dropped.
Slowly, one by one, the lower ranks returned, bruised and battered and nearly captured by the Other Side. But they had information, they had leads, they had people tailing the subjects. And then Creevy apparated into the flat, all hustle and bustle and frantic enthusiasm, shouting that Black was about in the city, going from shop to shop, buying things, blissfully unaware of the Deatheater activity, completely totally unawares, and we must go kill him rape him maim him abuse him ruin him.
Severus and Lucius smiled, evilly, cruelly, sadistically, they kissed and stood and thanked Creevy for his services, he'd be needed for photographing, so would you please apparate with us, and clicksnappoof, they were gone from the flat and in front of Sirius Black in an instant.
He put up such a pretty fight, but it was dark and lonely and he was in Knockturn Alley of all places on earth, and men get dragged down on the ground in the daylight there, not just at night. No one noticed the elegant and stately blonde, the overexcited youth, the drab and serious raven-haired man strolling about importantly. No one noticed the flashing of wands, the screaming of Unforgivables, the quick portkey away from the scene, the maniacal giggling of the youth. No one noticed, because Sirius Black was not important to anyone on Knockturn Alley. Depending on who you asked, Sirius Black was not important to anyone at all.
Black put up quite a fight, he most certainly did. Severus would have preferred that Black be unconscious for the majority of the their time together, or at least until they got him somewhere more private and secluded, especially after remembering what had happened the last time. Lucius had different ideas, however. He wanted to watch Black squirm the whole way back to their designated point.
So squirm he did, body bound but completely conscious and aware of his surroundings. Creevy was left to stand guard in case anyone came looking for Black, left to gather the left behind remnants of Black's presence, in order to ensure that no trace of him would be found in the Alley. Lucius and Severus portkeyed with Black away, away, away, far from the hustle and bustle of Wizarding London or Muggle London, far from the flat or the manor, all the way to a seedy back room in a pub somewhere, somewhere the Lord found, somewhere where He could have His spies and have His way and ensure that His orders were carried out.
Push. Shove. Tie up. Knock down. Beat. Punch. Kick.
"You sick fucks," he'd rage, straining against the bonds holding him fast in place, "you pathetic excuses for wizards, you'll all burn, and die, and I hope Remus finds you, you bastards, sick fucks, sick sick sick," he'd scream and yell and moan, spitting and hissing and growling.
They would laugh hysterically as they disrobed, as they prepared themselves and their instruments of torture, as they danced about Black and systematically removed him of his clothes, his sanity, his dignity.
Kiss. Lick. Stroke. Fuck.
The blonde and the sullen man frolicked before Black, touching each other, bringing the other to hardness, to a heightened sense of eroticism and emotion and lust and need and blood-thirsty horror.
"You deserve it, you mutt, you bastard, you atrocious, hideous man," the blonde sneered, forcing Black down to the floor, cursing him with Unforgivable after Unforgivable. "You aren't worthy of love from anyone. You aren't worthy of Remus, you're only worthy to be forced to suck me off like the dog you are." Lucius growled as he stroked himself a few more times before forcing Black's mouth to open. "Didn't you learn before, that you are nothing? Will never be anything? Will never be anything better than our toy to rape and fuck as we please?"
"Imperio," Severus whispered heavily as he stroked himself next to Lucius.
"Suck me, Black," Lucius muttered, nonchalantly, like this happened every day, like ordering a captive man under an Unforgivable to give him head was the most normal occurrence in the world.
Black complied, or at least his body did. He tried to fight, he truly did, but he couldn't. He bobbed up and down over Lucius' cock, his eyes filled with fire and tears and anger and hatred, and his mouth filled with sweat and pulsing flesh and come. Lucius thrust himself into Black's mouth, pushing out every last ounce of come that he could muster, then pulling out and making a point to smear the leftover ejaculate onto Black's face.
"Come, Severus," Lucius commanded his dour counterpart, who was breathlessly stroking himself, eyes rolled up in his head, hand working furiously. He blinked nearly imperceptibly in compliance, and soon enough, pearly white come exploded over his fingers, his cock, Black's exposed skin.
Slap. Stun. Punch. Shove.
"You mean nothing."
"You have nothing."
"You. Are. Nothing."
Leave for dead.