FIC: Viper's Kiss
Ahh, well, 30 minutes to spare for xellas's birthday here on the West Coast. So, um, yes. This is the beginning section of something much larger that has been eating my brain for weeks. But I wanted to get at least part of it up on her birthday, but there is much more of it which I shall post later unless I scare all my friends away.
It really is a work that stems from xellas's "Serpent's Feast" which is a true masterpiece of dark!fic.
Title:"Viper's Kiss" (Part 1)
Author: pre_raphaelite1
Pairing: Tom/Minerva
Rating: NC-17 (for violence and sex)
Warning: blood-play, breath-play, character death, Evil!Minerva
Disclaimer: The HP universe belongs to one very canny woman who shall remain JK Rowling. All I have are piles of shiny fabric, stacks of scribbled-in books, and my animals (husband included).
For years afterward, She would convince Herself that She had made the first move, first sought out He whose power seemed to pulse around Her. But perhaps it had been a mutual union. And perhaps He had it planned from the very beginning.
But that didn't matter now. They were bound to one another by the serpentine twist of lies in which They lived, waiting for the final viper's kiss that would resolve all of this: the death, the blood, the lust.
~~~
There was something different about Him. She watched Him during the Sorting, the only one who showed no fear, only calm arrogance as He approached the stool, snatched up the hat, but no sooner had He touched it that the Hat cried out "Slytherin". This raised a few eyebrows, including Her own. But He strode purposefully, perhaps too much leg and not enough body, to the green table and sat down. A place carefully chosen, the center of the empty bench, close enough, She would later think, to not seem overly eager, but far enough away to make His independence known.
Then He looked at Her. Snake eyes meeting Hers across the Hall. She felt it then. A jolt, somewhere deep in Her stomach as His stare drove into Her. She lifted Her chin and met His gaze, refusing to back down even as His eyes narrowed suspiciously. They remained through sorting of the last few students, never looking way, black clad bodies becoming transparent as they crossed Their line of sight. It was only with the close of the Headmaster's speech and the appearance of food on the table that They looked away.
But who looked away first, neither could say.
~~~
They met next in the library. Both seeking books in the same dark corner. He dropped His satchel, books and quills scattering into Her path.
She brought Her wand out and spelled the spilled contents back into His bag without a look at them. His eyes, always too intense, were watching Her again. And She Him. He noticed the book in Her hand, Advanced Transfiguration, and exhaled softly.
He demanded to be shown, and She did, smirking as Her quill elongated into a glinting knife. He took it and ran one finger over the blade, hardly reacting as the metal slid effortless into His flesh. She took the knife back then lifted His index finger to Her mouth to tongue away the scarlet. She suckled at the cut, gently at first but then with a sudden fierceness that tore it open further. He jerked His finger away and had His hands around her neck in an instant. But She only purred low in Her aching throat as He squeezed.
It was certain then. They were alike: driven, powerful, the best. And together? Together, They could do anything. The world could fall at Their feet and They could kick it away.
~~~
He took Her from behind the first time. One arm wrapped around Her narrow waist; the other under Her arm, across Her chest, hand clenched on the opposite shoulder. He thrust into Her once then stopped, waited. She tightened around Him, demanding without voice. He remained still, long enough so She wouldn't think He obeyed Her. Only did what suited Him, but it suited Them both.
He began a jerky rhythm, awkwardly thrusting into Her, losing His characteristic grace. But She ground back against Him, adjusting and guiding Him. Balancing His eagerness with Her experience, His impatience with Her resolve. As it would always be.
But He knew just where to press His fingers to make Her writhe, keen, and come. She cried out as He did, rising up to shudder together as the shadow of a large spider passed by the moonlit window.
~~~
People knew They were together. But only imagined youthful romance, furtive groping in hidden niches, ephemeral love. Never the truth.
When They took walks on the snow covered ground, arms twined together, heads close so Their breath mingled together; people imagined the giddy ramblings of juvenile dreams, spoken in sickly strands of frozen candy floss. But it was the dry tendrils of domination that curled like crematorium smoke from Their mouths.
She could play the besotted, the romantic, then the broken-hearted victim, effortlessly. And He the dashing hero, the old-world grace, the impetuous youth with equal ability.
They divided Their roles and responsibilities early. He would be the figurehead, the public power, even at school. He was a magnet, drew people to Him in wild abandon, took what He wanted. Ambition. She, in innocent charade, faded into the background, waited without fear of inaction. Courage.
He drew notice away from Her, gave just enough to Dumbledore to deflect attention from Her real core. She confided just enough to Dumbledore to give him cause to trust Her, feel sorry for Her when the curtain rose on Their end.
But the only real trust was in never trusting. Only each other. It would always be each other, because They had the same goal and neither could accomplish it alone.
~~~
They experimented with magic that would never be taught at Hogwarts. Never be taught in the darker doorways of Knockturn Alley. How to raise gooseflesh with a word. How to leave welts without lifting a hand. How to fuck without touching. How to hurt, strangle, smoother, kill.
It was a fine art, perfected only through shared experience and practice. They started on animals, watching the writhe of squirrels, the inversion of fish, the sudden fall of birds. Then They turned Their talents on each other. Going further. Dying more each time. But always returning, full of life, vital once again in Their triumph over the feeble clutches of mortality.
And then They heard about horcruxes. Magic too great to be written of. A word feared above all others. And They knew it was Their path.
~~~
When They made Their next move, it was conspicuous. A sudden and abrupt dissolution of Hogwarts shining couple. Words whispered around the castle on the cold winter drafts, words of youthful betrayal, adolescent fights, petty jealousies. And They ensured that behind those speculations ghosted the one sacrosanct word that no one dared say.
They made sure the bruises and cuts were real. She stripped down, slowly, seductively revealing the moon pale skin. Folded Her robes and set them on the chair like the clothing of novitiate awaiting Her final initiation. The pressed gray skirt, the crisp white blouse, the damp and glistening black lace He favoured. All fastidiously folded and set aside.
She cast Her hands out, extinguishing the torches and leaving just the barest flicker of candle light to lick Her skin. And illuminate His features into a death mask.
She swept up Her hair, pinning it up so it wouldn't impede the violent caress of His hands. She secured carefully, adding a few more than usual to fix the black tresses into a harsh coiffure.
Then She waited, flushed and trembling, eyes bright, for the strike of His elegant hand.
~
She awoke in the hospital ward, moaning in pain as She shifted on the accusing mattress. The healer was at Her side in a moment, sweeping the disheveled hair from Her face with a cool hand, as her gaze raked over Her, but the gaze never met Her swollen eyes.
The Healer spoke delicately, explaining how Dumbledore had found Her bloodied and unconscious and naked outside his office, no sign of how She got there or who had... attacked Her. "Attacked" only. But She could feel the warm tingle of a spell resting between Her thighs, a testament that the woman had found all of the bleeding cuts which His worshipping hands hand left on Her.
And when the Healer went to meet Dumbledore's worried voice, the cut on Her lip split open again as She smiled.
~~~
She knew it was Him. She knew what it was. But would never tell. For the sake of Them both.
She wasn't innocent. She never had been. Never would be.
After all, the Head Girl doesn't get caught. The Head Girl knows when to open the right doors, when to spell them closed. She knew who was where. What their routines were. And how to make use of them.
She saw it go by. Could hear Him whispering behind it, the slow flick and hiss that sounded like sex. A tongue and a look that could kill.
~~~
They hid in the end cubicle, door open so They could watch, but angled so They couldn't be seen. Not that it would matter, no one would ever know.
They used her sniveling sobs to set Their rhythm. His cheek rested against Her ear, breath whispering as He hissed to it, to Her. His cock bruised Her, hitting into the same spot, again and again, until She sank Her teeth through Her lip. She looked at Them in the mirror, together, cat eyes and snake eyes wide and intense next to each other as They fucked. He bit at Her ear, meeting Her gaze in the mirror then glancing away at the beast which waited obediently just under the row of sinks, eyes carefully avoiding its Master and His Mistress, who rutted against each other.
The door at the end of the row of cubicles finally swung out, and Their tempo reached its peak. The girl opened her mouth to scream at the creature which reared in front of her, but she froze and fell face first onto the ground. Her glasses shattered on the tiles as They came, bodies tensing and exploding together in a silent rush of wet heat. Her wand clattered and rolled out of her dead hand, stopping only when it hit His leather covered toes. He pulled out, then shoved His fingers back into Her cunt, swirling Their release together inside, slicking His fingers with it. Then He removed His fingers, stepped deliberately on the tapering length of wood which cracked with a soft sparkle of blue, and bent down to wipe His dripping fingers across the round, lifeless face.
The diary shimmered into life as He fell into Her arms.
Continue to "Part 2"
Feedback would be loved!
It really is a work that stems from xellas's "Serpent's Feast" which is a true masterpiece of dark!fic.
Title:"Viper's Kiss" (Part 1)
Author: pre_raphaelite1
Pairing: Tom/Minerva
Rating: NC-17 (for violence and sex)
Warning: blood-play, breath-play, character death, Evil!Minerva
Disclaimer: The HP universe belongs to one very canny woman who shall remain JK Rowling. All I have are piles of shiny fabric, stacks of scribbled-in books, and my animals (husband included).
For years afterward, She would convince Herself that She had made the first move, first sought out He whose power seemed to pulse around Her. But perhaps it had been a mutual union. And perhaps He had it planned from the very beginning.
But that didn't matter now. They were bound to one another by the serpentine twist of lies in which They lived, waiting for the final viper's kiss that would resolve all of this: the death, the blood, the lust.
~~~
There was something different about Him. She watched Him during the Sorting, the only one who showed no fear, only calm arrogance as He approached the stool, snatched up the hat, but no sooner had He touched it that the Hat cried out "Slytherin". This raised a few eyebrows, including Her own. But He strode purposefully, perhaps too much leg and not enough body, to the green table and sat down. A place carefully chosen, the center of the empty bench, close enough, She would later think, to not seem overly eager, but far enough away to make His independence known.
Then He looked at Her. Snake eyes meeting Hers across the Hall. She felt it then. A jolt, somewhere deep in Her stomach as His stare drove into Her. She lifted Her chin and met His gaze, refusing to back down even as His eyes narrowed suspiciously. They remained through sorting of the last few students, never looking way, black clad bodies becoming transparent as they crossed Their line of sight. It was only with the close of the Headmaster's speech and the appearance of food on the table that They looked away.
But who looked away first, neither could say.
~~~
They met next in the library. Both seeking books in the same dark corner. He dropped His satchel, books and quills scattering into Her path.
She brought Her wand out and spelled the spilled contents back into His bag without a look at them. His eyes, always too intense, were watching Her again. And She Him. He noticed the book in Her hand, Advanced Transfiguration, and exhaled softly.
He demanded to be shown, and She did, smirking as Her quill elongated into a glinting knife. He took it and ran one finger over the blade, hardly reacting as the metal slid effortless into His flesh. She took the knife back then lifted His index finger to Her mouth to tongue away the scarlet. She suckled at the cut, gently at first but then with a sudden fierceness that tore it open further. He jerked His finger away and had His hands around her neck in an instant. But She only purred low in Her aching throat as He squeezed.
It was certain then. They were alike: driven, powerful, the best. And together? Together, They could do anything. The world could fall at Their feet and They could kick it away.
~~~
He took Her from behind the first time. One arm wrapped around Her narrow waist; the other under Her arm, across Her chest, hand clenched on the opposite shoulder. He thrust into Her once then stopped, waited. She tightened around Him, demanding without voice. He remained still, long enough so She wouldn't think He obeyed Her. Only did what suited Him, but it suited Them both.
He began a jerky rhythm, awkwardly thrusting into Her, losing His characteristic grace. But She ground back against Him, adjusting and guiding Him. Balancing His eagerness with Her experience, His impatience with Her resolve. As it would always be.
But He knew just where to press His fingers to make Her writhe, keen, and come. She cried out as He did, rising up to shudder together as the shadow of a large spider passed by the moonlit window.
~~~
People knew They were together. But only imagined youthful romance, furtive groping in hidden niches, ephemeral love. Never the truth.
When They took walks on the snow covered ground, arms twined together, heads close so Their breath mingled together; people imagined the giddy ramblings of juvenile dreams, spoken in sickly strands of frozen candy floss. But it was the dry tendrils of domination that curled like crematorium smoke from Their mouths.
She could play the besotted, the romantic, then the broken-hearted victim, effortlessly. And He the dashing hero, the old-world grace, the impetuous youth with equal ability.
They divided Their roles and responsibilities early. He would be the figurehead, the public power, even at school. He was a magnet, drew people to Him in wild abandon, took what He wanted. Ambition. She, in innocent charade, faded into the background, waited without fear of inaction. Courage.
He drew notice away from Her, gave just enough to Dumbledore to deflect attention from Her real core. She confided just enough to Dumbledore to give him cause to trust Her, feel sorry for Her when the curtain rose on Their end.
But the only real trust was in never trusting. Only each other. It would always be each other, because They had the same goal and neither could accomplish it alone.
~~~
They experimented with magic that would never be taught at Hogwarts. Never be taught in the darker doorways of Knockturn Alley. How to raise gooseflesh with a word. How to leave welts without lifting a hand. How to fuck without touching. How to hurt, strangle, smoother, kill.
It was a fine art, perfected only through shared experience and practice. They started on animals, watching the writhe of squirrels, the inversion of fish, the sudden fall of birds. Then They turned Their talents on each other. Going further. Dying more each time. But always returning, full of life, vital once again in Their triumph over the feeble clutches of mortality.
And then They heard about horcruxes. Magic too great to be written of. A word feared above all others. And They knew it was Their path.
~~~
When They made Their next move, it was conspicuous. A sudden and abrupt dissolution of Hogwarts shining couple. Words whispered around the castle on the cold winter drafts, words of youthful betrayal, adolescent fights, petty jealousies. And They ensured that behind those speculations ghosted the one sacrosanct word that no one dared say.
They made sure the bruises and cuts were real. She stripped down, slowly, seductively revealing the moon pale skin. Folded Her robes and set them on the chair like the clothing of novitiate awaiting Her final initiation. The pressed gray skirt, the crisp white blouse, the damp and glistening black lace He favoured. All fastidiously folded and set aside.
She cast Her hands out, extinguishing the torches and leaving just the barest flicker of candle light to lick Her skin. And illuminate His features into a death mask.
She swept up Her hair, pinning it up so it wouldn't impede the violent caress of His hands. She secured carefully, adding a few more than usual to fix the black tresses into a harsh coiffure.
Then She waited, flushed and trembling, eyes bright, for the strike of His elegant hand.
~
She awoke in the hospital ward, moaning in pain as She shifted on the accusing mattress. The healer was at Her side in a moment, sweeping the disheveled hair from Her face with a cool hand, as her gaze raked over Her, but the gaze never met Her swollen eyes.
The Healer spoke delicately, explaining how Dumbledore had found Her bloodied and unconscious and naked outside his office, no sign of how She got there or who had... attacked Her. "Attacked" only. But She could feel the warm tingle of a spell resting between Her thighs, a testament that the woman had found all of the bleeding cuts which His worshipping hands hand left on Her.
And when the Healer went to meet Dumbledore's worried voice, the cut on Her lip split open again as She smiled.
~~~
She knew it was Him. She knew what it was. But would never tell. For the sake of Them both.
She wasn't innocent. She never had been. Never would be.
After all, the Head Girl doesn't get caught. The Head Girl knows when to open the right doors, when to spell them closed. She knew who was where. What their routines were. And how to make use of them.
She saw it go by. Could hear Him whispering behind it, the slow flick and hiss that sounded like sex. A tongue and a look that could kill.
~~~
They hid in the end cubicle, door open so They could watch, but angled so They couldn't be seen. Not that it would matter, no one would ever know.
They used her sniveling sobs to set Their rhythm. His cheek rested against Her ear, breath whispering as He hissed to it, to Her. His cock bruised Her, hitting into the same spot, again and again, until She sank Her teeth through Her lip. She looked at Them in the mirror, together, cat eyes and snake eyes wide and intense next to each other as They fucked. He bit at Her ear, meeting Her gaze in the mirror then glancing away at the beast which waited obediently just under the row of sinks, eyes carefully avoiding its Master and His Mistress, who rutted against each other.
The door at the end of the row of cubicles finally swung out, and Their tempo reached its peak. The girl opened her mouth to scream at the creature which reared in front of her, but she froze and fell face first onto the ground. Her glasses shattered on the tiles as They came, bodies tensing and exploding together in a silent rush of wet heat. Her wand clattered and rolled out of her dead hand, stopping only when it hit His leather covered toes. He pulled out, then shoved His fingers back into Her cunt, swirling Their release together inside, slicking His fingers with it. Then He removed His fingers, stepped deliberately on the tapering length of wood which cracked with a soft sparkle of blue, and bent down to wipe His dripping fingers across the round, lifeless face.
The diary shimmered into life as He fell into Her arms.
Continue to "Part 2"
Feedback would be loved!