Title: One of Us
Author: envinyatar15
Characters: Fenrir/Remus
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: non-con
Themes/kinks chosen: pheromones
Word Count: 1,550
Summary: Fenrir pays a visit to one of his long-lost children.
Author's notes: My first DD post – I'm so honoured to have been invited! :D This fic was inspired by rosivan's Ménage à trois avec la lune. Lyrics at the beginning from Three Days Grace's "Let Me Down", which to me has always had something dark-creature-ish about it. Many many thanks go to melusinahp for the beta.


Trust me
There's no need to fear
Everyone's here
Waiting for you to finally be one of us

The moon calls, and Fenrir Greyback follows it obediently. Looking up with a monstrous grin, he feels its pull even through the myriad of clouds swirling over the night-time sky.

The moon isn't full yet; won't be for another couple of days. But he can already feel his bones grinding in their joints, the yearning in his blood for revenge. He tilts his head sideways as he sniffs the air, searching for the smell he stumbled across only hours earlier and which he has been following ever since. Family, the smell says, and traitor. Baring his teeth as he starts forward into a trot, he silently, joyfully makes his way across the countryside, following the trail to where his long-lost child hides, calling for him.

*~*~*

Fifteen years have gone by since they last encountered each other. Fenrir never forgets those he has given a new life. As he brushes through the undergrowth and finally comes to a stop in front of the shabby hut his unthankful child inhabits, righteous anger and lustful violence well up in his blood. He growls.

He bypasses the door, going straight for the window behind which a light shines, and then he breaks into a run: revenge, his blood screams at him, thrumming low in his ears. His heartbeat sets the rhythm to which his feet connect with the earth.

He jumps. Glass shatters around him as he breaks through the window, leaving scratches on his skin that he hardly feels. Blood wells up from his wounds, splinters moving under his skin as the smell of copper assaults his senses. He lands on the floor crouched on his feet and hands, his gaze zeroing in on the startled figure on the sofa. His focus lies solely on the chemicals his child releases into the air. Everything else is classified as unimportant and consequently filtered out. The smell that has been calling for him is much more intense inside the hut, urging Fenrir to breathe it in deeply and causing another growl to escape his throat. Then, before poor Remus Lupin has a chance to react, he jumps forward again. His traitorous child manages to get a grip on his wand, but he isn't quick enough to cast a spell before Fenrir is on him, letting momentum take over as he crashes against Remus with his full body.

His child stumbles backward against the sofa, his wand falling to the floor with a clatter. Fenrir bares his teeth into a smile.

"My, my, who have we here," he whisper-growls. "Look what our Goddess has given us." Leaning down, he watches his child try to struggle, but to no avail: Fenrir is stronger. He captures Remus' wrist with one of his hands, his fingernails digging into his child's delicate skin. Power surges through his veins when Remus yelps and then freezes, his terrified eyes on Fenrir, and as Fenrir sniffs he can distinguish the unmistakable smell of fear in the air. "No need to be afraid, little one," he murmurs against Remus' skin. "I won't hurt you." Remus struggles again, causing Fenrir to exhale a laugh in his ear. "... too much."

He drags his child to the floor with a single powerful pull and then starts to rip his clothes off. The stink of fear begins to cloud Fenrir's senses, shutting everything else out, and as white skin is quickly exposed to his eyes the hunger he feels becomes overwhelming. He grazes Remus' skin with his nails. The smell of blood fills the air, and Fenrir sucks it in greedily; his cock starts to throb against the confinement of his trousers. Saliva assembles in his mouth, dropping from his lips as he leans across his child's back. "Be good, boy," he growls warningly as he leans over his child's naked back, and then bites into his shoulder. He feels flesh part under his sharp teeth and blood rush to meet his tongue. His own blood sings in approval. Remus jerks, tries to get away from him, but Fenrir's grip on his wrist is still painfully tight, and he twists his child's arm until Remus is still, beginning to sweat from pain and fear.

"Be good, I said." Fenrir shifts back a little, letting his free hand trail across his child's back. This one has grown up strong, he notices; he needs to put on muscle, but he has good potential. Needs to learn about pack rules, but Fenrir is more than willing to teach him. It's easier to teach submission than it is to teach dominance, though he doesn't think this one will be a leader. Too much fear in him, which is the hardest to get out; no werewolf will be fooled by pretense alone. There will have to be conviction. While he takes his child in, classifies his responses to his touch as his eyes study each curve, his finger reaches even further south, sliding between tightly clenched cheeks and prying them apart. He swallows. At the touch his child begins to struggle again, but Fenrir holds on, pleased and aggravated at the same time. Fear may be turned into anger, and anger is power. "Still, boy, or you're dead quicker than you can think the word," he barks, but his eyes are glued to the wrinkled skin he's exposed.

His child doesn't obey though, forcing Fenrir to push his thighs down with his own knees and speed up the process. This one needs to be led on the right path as quickly as possible. Pushing his own trousers down, Fenrir roughly grabs his cock with his free hand, rocking into his own fist until he is fully hard. His other hand twists his child's arm more forcefully so he'll hold still. Then, his breathing just as irregular as his terrified child's, he guides his cock between his child's cheeks, rubbing against his hole to make sure his intentions are understood. Fresh fear fills the air, and as Fenrir smiles he begins to push forward.

His child screams beautifully.

The feeling is exquisite. His child's back arches up, tension running frantic in his muscles as he tries to prevent the intrusion. Fenrir moans, pants, stiffens as sharp pain races up his own spine. He pushes past the first ring of muscles, tight heat beginning to engulf him. The grasp of his fingers will leave bruises as he continues to keep his child still with all his strength. Then the slide of skin on skin moves quicker. Blood eases the way, drawing a snarl from Fenrir's throat. His eyes threaten to roll back into his head as he pushes ever deeper into his child's body, marking him more thoroughly to remind Remus of who he is, who he belongs to. His child keeps struggling, his muscles clenching around Fenrir; the mix of pleasure and agony pulls another growl from him. "Still," he hisses, anger growing inside. This could be good for both of them, if his child would let it happen.

Then he begins to move. He changes his grip so he has both of his child's arms trapped, and he pulls out almost all the way before slamming back in, drawing another high-pitched, beautiful scream from that delicate throat. Fenrir can feel the moon resounding in his blood, urging him onward, and he doesn't relent. His child isn't hard, but he doesn't care; it will be different in the future, but his child needs to learn this first.

He will, in due time. When he has found his place and has learnt to trust his pack. To let go.

Fenrir feels his arousal spike, orgasm growing as he slams inside his child. It's not brought forward by pleasure but by the knowledge of the execution of dominance, the thrill racing through his body as he continues to push forward, once more, twice, three times.

He comes with his Goddess appearing before his blackening vision, his child still struggling against him. His grip slackens and his child takes the chance to free himself, knocking Fenrir on his back and causing his cock to slip free with a painful jerk. Sprawling on the floor, Fenrir smirks up at his child's furious face.

Yes, this one has great potential, Fenrir muses even as Remus stands before him, trembling. Sniffing the air, Fenrir gets up. He smiles at his child one more time, taking in his marks of ownership with eyes and smell both. "Good boy," he says. His eyes trail down his child's thighs, marked with mixing red and white, and then up again to meet his gaze. "You know where you belong, don't you?"

He doesn't wait for an answer, just holds his child's eyes with his own gaze. Then he turns to jump out the window and runs back the way he came. His blood and his Goddess' call are gratified for now, and he has good hope. He bows to the moon when she casts her light on him, then continues on his way to rejoin his pack.

His family needs him.

*~*~*

When the next full moon approaches, one more child joins his pack. It's about time. Fenrir smiles, satisfaction thrumming through his veins.

Family remains family.