Snapelike (snapelike) wrote in malfoycentric, @ 2007-09-15 18:04:00 |
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Current mood: | busy |
The Good vs Bad Challenge: Scream for Me (LM/JFF) and Fine (LM/NM)
The Bad...
Title: Scream for Me
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Violence, character death, non-con, psycho!Lucius, blood. Dark.
Pairings: Lucius/Justin Finch-Fletchley, Draco/Blaise, Justin/Draco, Lucius/Blaise.
Summary: Lucius never liked it when the other children played with his toys. Now Draco has taken his favourite toy and broken it. It has consequences for all involved. And some things never mend...
Notes: What you don't do for your flist... I hate Psycho!Lucius. But Elf wanted him... and what Elf wants, she gets. However, I am not going to write Lucius that way again, not ever! I would originally have posted a very long Mary Sue fic, but chose this instead, because I actually like the MS plot a lot and I cannot say how much I detest the Psycho!Lucius in this. This is OOC if there ever was OOC. Also, it is rather clear my command of the English language has improved a bit since. Gods, it stinks!
Scream for Me
Nobody could accuse the Malfoys for not treating their pets in a decent way. They had several, some young, others older. Of course they each had their favourite; Narcissa's was Oliver Wood; a cute looking, handsome young man. Draco's and Blaise's was Seamus. Lucius had never cared the least for him. But his son and his pureblood lover found Seamus amusing. He wasn't broken in yet, and Draco had much fun trying. He still tried to fight his destiny, as if Potter wasn't dead, as if the world wasn't set right.
And the world was right. Slowly - for not to draw too much attention to the genocide - Voldemort was killing off or offering the Muggleborns as servants and slaves to his faithful followers. The world was definitely a better place now, without Precious Potter and his mudblood friends. Oh yes. The world was so much better. Not that Lucius was, or had ever been, especially fond of Voldemort either, he liked to be the one in charge. But since he was Voldemort's second in command life had possibilities. Fringe benefits so to speak. A steady flow of money, slaves, pets and other gifts. Power.
Lucius had his favourite pet, too. A gift from Voldemort. Lucius was very fond of his recent pet.The best he'd had yet. It had been so compliant, so eager to please.
And that was why the scene that met him as he opened the gate to the Dungeon was very, very displeasing.
He had just stepped in on his son and his son's lover. It was a beautiful view; the two pure-blooded young wizards almost naked, candlelight caressing Blaise's dark, golden skin, underlining Draco's pale, luminescent fragility, both so very, very attractive.
And it would have been a beautiful sight if it hadn't been disturbed by a sickening smell, as if bodies were littered in the corners, left raw to bleed. It would have been beautiful if Draco's and Blaise's slender, athletic torsoes hadn't been smeared with blood. The smell of blood, of vomit and urine, of sex, filled the room with a nauseating stench.
Lucius' eyes narrowed dangerously. An expression of hate and possessiveness flickered over his face, distorting his fair features into a mask of disgust.
'What do you think you are doing, Draco?' he asked, voice arctic cold.
The two young men looked up, not quite believing the annoyed, displeased tone of voice.
'Would you mind telling me why my pet is here, my pet, in a state of health that is utterly unacceptable?' Lucius looked to the dungeon wall. Hanging in manacles, covered in his own blood, decorated with lashes and bruises and bleeding cuts, covered in blood as if a red blanket was wrapped around his body, hung Justin. Blood and other human fluids was pooling beneath him. He was unconscious, one arm looked as if it was broken, the manacles forcing him to use it to support him anyway.
'But he's just a pet, father. Nothing to get worked up over.'
Lucius tried to keep his temper. 'He might be a pet, Draco, but he is my pet. I have not given you permission to play with my toys, have I?
Draco looked away, knowing he'd screwed up. 'No...'
Lucius stepped closer to Draco, his grey eyes flashing dangerously almost like fluid silver. 'Why have you beaten him like this? This has noting to do with pleasure. Why, Draco?' He got a hold of Draco's thin, blood-smeared arm, fingers squeezing it hard, as a snake would strangle it's prey. 'Why?'
Draco yanked his arm out of his father's hard hand. Angrily Draco shouted at Lucius. 'Because he wouldn't scream for us, father. He wouldn't scream!'