melfinatheblue (melfinatheblue) wrote in luciusfqf, @ 2007-12-21 12:09:00 |
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Entry tags: | fiction: lucius/?, fiction: lucius/abraxas, slash |
The Seer
Title: The Seer
Author/Artist: melfinatheblue
Rating: NC-17
Pairing:Lucius/unknown male, Lucius/Abraxas
Summary: Abraxas is not happy to find out what his son's been up to at Hogwarts.
Warnings: dark fic, incest, non-con, physical, mental, and sexual abuse, slash
Prompt: Experimenting with wands. (Teen Lucius at Hogwarts)
Notes: This bunny went in a dark and scary direction. If you would like a light-hearted teen Lucius fic, may I suggest The Game which was originally supposed to be this prompt but I had some trouble with the characters refusing to cooperate. This fic is dark! Oh, and my most stylistically daring story to date. Massive thanks, once again, to stonegrad for the beta.
Word Count:1500
The string of chocolate frogs jumps awkwardly across his chest. He shudders and whimpers, struggling against the bonds. You follow their route with your tongue as they begin to melt, savoring the taste of him mixed with the dark chocolate. He whimpers again, begs, and you oblige, standing over him and slipping your cock into his eager mouth, and it is good, so good. He is yours alone in these moments, your Slytherin beauty, arrogant and cold no more. You know better than any other how different he is for you, no longer Slytherin's silver serpent, but your affectionate lover - and it doesn't matter that both your Houses would reject you if they knew, because all that matters is here and now, as you slip the blindfold from lust-dazed eyes and bend down to his groin.
He has a habit of sucking his quill, and you're sure he does it just to drive you mad. Even now, while he holds court at the Slytherin table, a lord addressing his vassals, he glances over to you, just for a moment, and you know he is yours and you are his.
There are two kinds of visions you have. One vanishes as soon as the words are spoken, captured in a glass globe and taken away by the Ministry. The other, you are not even sure you're supposed to have - visions of family, friends, and more and more often, him. These do not fade, but remain razor sharp, and they come true, always.
And they haunt you, as Christmas approaches, and you fear what will happen to him. Your secret is not safe anymore; his fearful father knows, and the punishment is more than you think he can endure. Standing, waiting for the train, you try to find him, warn him, but when he looks at you, the words will not come. You can do nothing, and that burns like fire in your gut. Your visions have shown you nothing of him beyond tonight, and that is terrifying. You fear the Lucius you know will vanish, ground into dust under the boot heel of his cold, uncaring father.
And tonight you dream...
Of a lush, large study. Of Lucius tentatively walking towards a large desk, and of Abraxas sitting, impassive as a statue, behind it. Of Abraxas speaking to his son, at first in complete silence; then the sound kicks in...
"But father, I haven't..."
The sound as Abraxas punches his son echoes in the room. Lucius falls back, landing on the stone floor. His mouth is bleeding, and he wipes the blood away with the back of his hand. He is frightened, though he tries to hide it.
"Please father..."
Abraxas kicks him hard in the side, and he cries out. Again and again those boots thud into him, finding every soft spot, every weakness, and he tries to protect himself with his hands, but it is no use. Apparently not satisfied with the damage his kicks are doing, Abraxas begins to punch as well. As the beating continues, he begins to shout, his face contorted in rage...
"Useless, inept! Worth less than dog shit! Brainless, spineless sissy of a boy! Never my son, never a Malfoy! You bloody disgusting whore! Filthy perverted wretched thing!
After what seems like an eternity he stops and looks at Lucius, curled into a ball on the floor, shaking.
"You want to be a whore, boy? I'll show you what a whore is!"
"Please,” escapes from Lucius' throat as he is dragged to his feet by his hair. "Please," again as he is bent over the desk. It hurts already, so much, and he is terrified of what else may come.
The crack of the whip echoes as it slices through robes and into pale flesh, and Lucius cries out. It lands again and again, cutting bloody wounds into his back, buttocks, thighs; it is not until the blood runs down his legs in thick trails that Abraxas stops. Lucius whimpers as his father inspects the wounds, lifting the shredded remains of his robes, and then in one quick movement, ripping them off him.
"Did you like that, boy?"
Lucius frantically shakes his head. He tries to move away from the desk, to escape, but Abraxas pushes him back.
"Now, now, your lesson isn't over yet."
Abraxas keeps one hand in the small of Lucius' back, holding him there. With the other he unzips his fly and begins to stroke himself. Soon he is fully erect. Lucius' pants are little more than rags, and offer no protection as Abraxas runs his hands over Lucius' arse, pushing his legs apart.
"Please, father, I never... I didn't let anyone, I swear. Please don't."
"Shut up, boy!"
Abraxas smacks Lucius' arse, hard, and Lucius cries out. He is crying now, tears running down his face. The fear and pain in his eyes is overwhelming, and he seems only moments away from panic.
"I'll teach you what a whore does, boy..."
Abraxas mutters a spell, and his cock is suddenly dripping with a clear grease-like substance. He pulls Lucius' arse cheeks apart, and smiles as he sees the puckered opening. He places his cock against the entrance, ignoring Lucius' whimpered pleas, and sheaths himself in one quick, brutal motion.
Lucius screams as he is entered. A horrid sound, filled with desperation, fear, pain, and betrayal. That scream reverberates around your skull, and you wake, screaming.
Your mother runs in, and comforts you as you sob. She tells you it is just a nightmare, and gives you a potion of Dreamless Sleep. She rocks you, and you want so much to believe that what she is telling you is true, that what you just saw did not happen. You drift back off, unable to resist the potion's effects...
Lucius lays on the cold stone floor, and you are struck by how much he looks like a porcelain statuette, all white except for the blood. His father is standing over him, with a bottle of alcohol in his hand. Lucius screams as his father pours the bottle out over him.
"Get up, boy."
Lucius slowly gets up. He stares at the floor, unwilling or unable to look at Abraxas. His wounds continue to bleed, and from the way he moves, he appears to be in a great deal of pain. Abraxas grabs his chin, forces him to look at him.
"Well, it looks like you may have an inkling of the message. Just remember, boy, this is what happens when you play with wands. I'll repeat this lesson every night of this break to make sure it truly sinks in."
A soft whimper is his only answer. He holds Lucius' chin a moment longer, turning his head from side to side, before he lets go.
"Go get cleaned up. You may put antiseptic on your wounds, but nothing else. And remember, we have the Black Christmas luncheon to attend tomorrow. I will be very upset if you show any sign of pain."
"Yes, sir," Lucius whispers, and then he walks, slowly, like an old man, out of the room. You follow him down the hallway, as he leans against the wall for balance; as he slowly, agonizingly, ascends a long staircase up at least three stories, and finally arrives at what you would guess is his room. The door is ajar, and he pushes it open. The room is small, and neat, and you would call it cozy. It appears to be just under the roof, with two large dormer windows. A twin bed is pushed against one wall, and bookcases and a small fireplace otherwise dominate the room. He walks across the room to another door.
He walks through that other door into a small bathroom, old and primitive-looking. He turns on the water in the old claw-footed bathtub, and slowly climbs in - only then does he start sobbing; loud, harsh sobs, that turn his face red and shake his whole body. You reach out to him, so desperate to comfort him - you know no one in the house will hold him, tell him it will all be fine.
As your hand touches his hair, he turns and looks at you, and he sees you, recognizes you, and then you are in your bed again and it is morning.
You don't dream again during that break. You take Dreamless Sleep every night, terrified of what you might see if you don't. You don't see him again until the train station, and he looks at you with indifference. Hate would be better, easier. Instead, he seems to have decided you mean nothing, are nothing.
You wonder if that makes it easier.
Soon enough the school year is over, and you leave Hogwarts for good. It is several years before you see him again, and then he watches, as impassive as his father once was, as Bellatrix Lestrange shouts something you can't hear and the green light envelops you and there is nothing but a laughing boy with long blond hair and gray eyes come to greet you.