FIC: Sacred Sinners, Lucius/Remus, R
Title: Sacred Sinners
Author: Gabriel Anubis
Rating: R
Pairing: Remus/Lucius
Summary: An alternate universe setting where the Order of the Phoenix is a monastic-type order. Lucius Malfoy, a wealthy, decadent aristocrat with a taste for profaning the sacred, abducts Remus Lupin, a young monk, and tempts him to break his vows…
Warnings: AU, slash, masochism (self-flagellation and corporal mortification), dubious consent, blasphemy, religious and angelic imagery, and mild blood kink
Words: 1,030
Disclaimer: Don't own these characters, not making any profit, etc.
A/N: Written for by_starkiller for the hp_springsmut fic exchange. Those with strong religious beliefs may want to skip this fic. I apologise if I have offended anyone by writing this - that was not my intention. Also, many thanks to my beta who wishes to stay anonymous.
By now, I could have easily broken young Brother Remus if I had chosen to do so. A little torture here, a little dark seductiveness there, and I could have obtained many choice tidbits of information about the Order of the Phoenix and its activities of insurgency against my Lord. But I have no desire to be so obvious or crass. I keep him in relative comfort - well, as much as he is used to in his cloistered existence. Having this young monk within my clutches, this numerary member of the Order so recently admitted to its inner circle, means more to me than an opportunity to play the loyal Death Eater. Let the common spies, those scavenging jackals, do the menial work of discovering where the Order will have its next prayer session or secret resistance meeting. I prefer to slowly and exquisitely seek to corrupt this blessed innocent, attempting make a plaything of him for my own blasphemous pleasure. To wait and observe my luscious prey, to keep him safely captive and slyly lay irresistible temptations before him. A slight hint of an aphrodisiac potion in his freshly brewed mint tea, a spell or two cast to add a surreal and erotic timbre to his dreams is all it takes to render him suggestible...
He is quite a beautiful young man after his own fashion. A slender form, eyes radiant with piety and submission to a Lord who is not my own Master, his face serene and tranquil. Light brown hair cropped short but still with a hint of softness - his kind no longer wear the tonsure. He possesses a gentle demeanour, yet the determined set of his shoulders and the rigidity of his back as he kneels to pray before the ornate ebony and silver crucifix on the otherwise bare stone wall of his little cell show me that his faith is very strong. If I had attempted brutality and torment to wear Brother Remus down, I may well have had a fruitless time of it - one with such devotion to his vows would make an all too eager martyr for his cause. The methods I have chosen, although painstaking, are far more certain and much more fun.
By magic and stealth I am able to watch my desirable young captive almost constantly, smiling darkly with satisfaction as he grows more and more disconcerted with each passing day. He spends most of his time on his knees in prayer, his hands clasped, his suffering-filled eyes raised to the cross and his face taut and stricken. I cannot help but let my hand stray to my swollen prick and caress it as he strips himself of his plain black woollen robe and takes a small braided whip in one trembling hand. Praying aloud to be cleansed of his lustful thoughts and wicked, unholy dreams, he viciously lashes his own shoulders and back until the smooth white skin is streaked with vivid red. Against the paleness of his slim thigh I can make out the shape of a cilice - a discipline belt of barbed metal strapped tightly to his leg - and the warm scarlet of blood droplets. I lick my lips as my precious monkling castigates himself, mortifying his flesh as I bring myself to a clandestine, decadent bliss. It is even more delicious than the idea of flogging him myself, which I fully intend to do when he is completely mine. His pain has a beauty to it that transcends all ecstasies of the secular world. Cleansing my seed-stained robes with a mere flick of my wand, I keep my gaze fixed on Remus as my mind luxuriates on what I plan to do with him this very night.
All it takes is a touch of a mild hallucinogenic tincture in his soup; before long he falls upon his pallet in a fitful slumber, poised on the edge of wakefulness. Who knows what he sees behind those fluttering eyelids in his fevered phantasms? As he tosses and turns, muttering in his sleep, I change my clothes and scent myself, preparing for the sinful delights I am anticipating. I will tempt him with just a little pleasure tonight, and promise him much more…
His eyes flicker open as I Apparate within his cell; I can tell from the rapt look upon his face that he thinks he is having a holy vision. What a glorious sight I must be, robed in flowing ivory satin with my long white-blond hair shimmering all around me. I am, quite frankly speaking, divinely lovely. He struggles to raise himself and kneel before me, his skin bathed with his febrile sweat, and I speak to him in haunting tones of sacred things, my words weaving images of heavenly bliss into his addled mind as I expertly keep a seductive purr from betraying my true nature.
Blessed Archangel, he calls me, and Holy Messenger of God. It is only kisses I bestow upon him tonight, deep, hot and sweet on his parched lips, my fingertips lovingly stroking the tears from his cheeks as I bend to place my mouth on his. I can tell that he is aroused, even more so than I am as I imagine how wondrous it will be to finally have his silken lips wrapped around my cock. How long will it be, I wonder, before he permits himself to surrender completely to the angel he believes me to be? He will be so tight and hot and perfect as I thrust into him; his virgin channel clenching so beautifully around me, his lithe hips lifted willingly against me as I take him. My naïve young sacred sinner will soon learn what true pain is when I bind him and subject him to my darkest lusts. Will he weep then, seeing in me a silver-tongued, deceptive Lucifer instead of a pure and lustrous Gabriel? In truth, I care not, providing I can prolong this exquisite amusement as I make him mine. I want to turn him away from the sterility of his God the Father, and using every beguiling trick that I can muster, compel this monk to worship me instead.
Author: Gabriel Anubis
Rating: R
Pairing: Remus/Lucius
Summary: An alternate universe setting where the Order of the Phoenix is a monastic-type order. Lucius Malfoy, a wealthy, decadent aristocrat with a taste for profaning the sacred, abducts Remus Lupin, a young monk, and tempts him to break his vows…
Warnings: AU, slash, masochism (self-flagellation and corporal mortification), dubious consent, blasphemy, religious and angelic imagery, and mild blood kink
Words: 1,030
Disclaimer: Don't own these characters, not making any profit, etc.
A/N: Written for by_starkiller for the hp_springsmut fic exchange. Those with strong religious beliefs may want to skip this fic. I apologise if I have offended anyone by writing this - that was not my intention. Also, many thanks to my beta who wishes to stay anonymous.
By now, I could have easily broken young Brother Remus if I had chosen to do so. A little torture here, a little dark seductiveness there, and I could have obtained many choice tidbits of information about the Order of the Phoenix and its activities of insurgency against my Lord. But I have no desire to be so obvious or crass. I keep him in relative comfort - well, as much as he is used to in his cloistered existence. Having this young monk within my clutches, this numerary member of the Order so recently admitted to its inner circle, means more to me than an opportunity to play the loyal Death Eater. Let the common spies, those scavenging jackals, do the menial work of discovering where the Order will have its next prayer session or secret resistance meeting. I prefer to slowly and exquisitely seek to corrupt this blessed innocent, attempting make a plaything of him for my own blasphemous pleasure. To wait and observe my luscious prey, to keep him safely captive and slyly lay irresistible temptations before him. A slight hint of an aphrodisiac potion in his freshly brewed mint tea, a spell or two cast to add a surreal and erotic timbre to his dreams is all it takes to render him suggestible...
He is quite a beautiful young man after his own fashion. A slender form, eyes radiant with piety and submission to a Lord who is not my own Master, his face serene and tranquil. Light brown hair cropped short but still with a hint of softness - his kind no longer wear the tonsure. He possesses a gentle demeanour, yet the determined set of his shoulders and the rigidity of his back as he kneels to pray before the ornate ebony and silver crucifix on the otherwise bare stone wall of his little cell show me that his faith is very strong. If I had attempted brutality and torment to wear Brother Remus down, I may well have had a fruitless time of it - one with such devotion to his vows would make an all too eager martyr for his cause. The methods I have chosen, although painstaking, are far more certain and much more fun.
By magic and stealth I am able to watch my desirable young captive almost constantly, smiling darkly with satisfaction as he grows more and more disconcerted with each passing day. He spends most of his time on his knees in prayer, his hands clasped, his suffering-filled eyes raised to the cross and his face taut and stricken. I cannot help but let my hand stray to my swollen prick and caress it as he strips himself of his plain black woollen robe and takes a small braided whip in one trembling hand. Praying aloud to be cleansed of his lustful thoughts and wicked, unholy dreams, he viciously lashes his own shoulders and back until the smooth white skin is streaked with vivid red. Against the paleness of his slim thigh I can make out the shape of a cilice - a discipline belt of barbed metal strapped tightly to his leg - and the warm scarlet of blood droplets. I lick my lips as my precious monkling castigates himself, mortifying his flesh as I bring myself to a clandestine, decadent bliss. It is even more delicious than the idea of flogging him myself, which I fully intend to do when he is completely mine. His pain has a beauty to it that transcends all ecstasies of the secular world. Cleansing my seed-stained robes with a mere flick of my wand, I keep my gaze fixed on Remus as my mind luxuriates on what I plan to do with him this very night.
All it takes is a touch of a mild hallucinogenic tincture in his soup; before long he falls upon his pallet in a fitful slumber, poised on the edge of wakefulness. Who knows what he sees behind those fluttering eyelids in his fevered phantasms? As he tosses and turns, muttering in his sleep, I change my clothes and scent myself, preparing for the sinful delights I am anticipating. I will tempt him with just a little pleasure tonight, and promise him much more…
His eyes flicker open as I Apparate within his cell; I can tell from the rapt look upon his face that he thinks he is having a holy vision. What a glorious sight I must be, robed in flowing ivory satin with my long white-blond hair shimmering all around me. I am, quite frankly speaking, divinely lovely. He struggles to raise himself and kneel before me, his skin bathed with his febrile sweat, and I speak to him in haunting tones of sacred things, my words weaving images of heavenly bliss into his addled mind as I expertly keep a seductive purr from betraying my true nature.
Blessed Archangel, he calls me, and Holy Messenger of God. It is only kisses I bestow upon him tonight, deep, hot and sweet on his parched lips, my fingertips lovingly stroking the tears from his cheeks as I bend to place my mouth on his. I can tell that he is aroused, even more so than I am as I imagine how wondrous it will be to finally have his silken lips wrapped around my cock. How long will it be, I wonder, before he permits himself to surrender completely to the angel he believes me to be? He will be so tight and hot and perfect as I thrust into him; his virgin channel clenching so beautifully around me, his lithe hips lifted willingly against me as I take him. My naïve young sacred sinner will soon learn what true pain is when I bind him and subject him to my darkest lusts. Will he weep then, seeing in me a silver-tongued, deceptive Lucifer instead of a pure and lustrous Gabriel? In truth, I care not, providing I can prolong this exquisite amusement as I make him mine. I want to turn him away from the sterility of his God the Father, and using every beguiling trick that I can muster, compel this monk to worship me instead.