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rarepair_shortsTitle: Fantastic Terrors
Character Pairing: Severus Snape/Barty Crouch, Jr.
Prompt: "a vision softly creeping"
Rating: R
Word Count: 784
Summary: "He makes Severus watch and that, more than the act of torturing and killing, of utterly destroying a defenseless girl – that control is so exquisite."
Author's Notes: Rating is for language, gore, and mentions of sexual activity. Parts 1, 2, 3, and 4.
Link to Prompt Table: Link!
Once more, Barty wakes up screaming. It’s summer now, and he’s been like this since late May. All the time, these thoughts attack him, out of nowhere, unforeseen, and they’re worst when he suspects them least. He hasn’t had a good night’s sleep since June. Good thing Severus isn’t around for now, or else he might actually have to answer for it, instead of brushing it off and getting coddled, which is really all he’s done since the nightmares started.
It’s what he’s doing right now, for point of fact. He’s been getting coddled full time since that night just after term ended, when Rab found him in the washroom, drunk and sobbing, playing dangerously with one of Winky’s kitchen knives. It was an heirloom, an antique, and Rab nearly broke the law to get it from him. Ever night, after the dreams that inevitably come, Barty can’t help but wonder why Rab did such a thing, what on Earth could have possessed him to cling so fervently to one of his best mates, who has yet to prove that he’s anything but useless. A good boy from good parents who will just keep doing good.
His subconscious seems to have other plans. It wants to kill Evans. It wants him to do it.
That’s why he wakes up pale as death, drenched in cold sweat, and gasping for breath. Screaming as though he’d seen the Devil himself. It’s bad tonight. He hexes the little bitch silly, gives her the Cruciatus until she loses her voice from screaming and passes out, and, finally, he carves out her heart by hand and holds it until it has its last, weakling pulse. He clenches his fingers on it like a vice; he squeezes until her heart bursts and stains his face. A drop lands on his lips; he licks it off. Her blood tastes coppery, but, somehow, sweet.
He makes Severus watch and that, more than the act of torturing and killing, of utterly destroying a defenseless girl – that control is so exquisite. Its beauty far surpasses all else. And then he takes his almost lover, has his way (for once), and bites to draw more blood. He relishes in it.
That’s why he wakes up screaming. That’s why he once thought it wise to have half a bottle of Firewhiskey. That’s why Rab conned his brother and Bellatrix into playing nanny to the two of them and Regulus at the Lestrange summer home. That’s why Rab hardly sleeps anymore.
It’s pounding in his head this time, his pulse, beating a tattoo in time with the horrid, morbid, goddamn beating of that Mudblood slag’s defiling heart. The initial scream rouses Rab from his sleep, and the groaning makes him come running. It’s almost adorable how much he cares for Barty, how devoted he is – this whole “healing venture” was his idea, and he panics if Barty so much as drops a fork. The logic goes that this is all in Barty’s nerves. He needs time away from his twelve OWL-level subjects, and from his constant anxiety over Severus.
Even as Rab grabs Barty’s hands to keep him from yanking his hair out, the blonde boy knows without knowing that all of this is futile.
“Another one?” Rab demands helplessly. “What happened?”
“I killed her,” Barty explains. “Tortured her, killed her, cut her up, and made him watch. Had – had my way with him-”
Without warning, Rab embraces Barty around the shoulders, pets his hair with one hand.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “Just a nightmare. It’s why we’re here. It’s all in your-”
“What if it isn’t, though? All in my nerves, I mean.”
“Of course it’s all in your nerves! Why would you think-”
“What if it’s in my soul, Rab? My heart, or my soul, or something, but only my brain tangentially?”
“What are you-”
“You said I needed rest, so I’ve been resting. You made sure of that. We came out here so I could bloody well rest! But these sodding dreams are still getting worse!”
“You’re not resting enough-”
“I can’t get any more rest, Rabastan! You do everything for me!”
“They’ll stop, Barty. Just trust that you’ll get-”
“But, Rab…” Barty pauses, choking on the syllables before he can pronounce them. “I… I like them.”
Rab stares at him, completely blindsided. Trembling, he reaches out and pushes Barty’s hair off his face, tucks it behind his ear.
“Go back to sleep,” he whispers. “It’ll be alright.”
Character Pairing: Severus Snape/Barty Crouch, Jr.
Prompt: "a vision softly creeping"
Rating: R
Word Count: 784
Summary: "He makes Severus watch and that, more than the act of torturing and killing, of utterly destroying a defenseless girl – that control is so exquisite."
Author's Notes: Rating is for language, gore, and mentions of sexual activity. Parts 1, 2, 3, and 4.
Link to Prompt Table: Link!
Once more, Barty wakes up screaming. It’s summer now, and he’s been like this since late May. All the time, these thoughts attack him, out of nowhere, unforeseen, and they’re worst when he suspects them least. He hasn’t had a good night’s sleep since June. Good thing Severus isn’t around for now, or else he might actually have to answer for it, instead of brushing it off and getting coddled, which is really all he’s done since the nightmares started.
It’s what he’s doing right now, for point of fact. He’s been getting coddled full time since that night just after term ended, when Rab found him in the washroom, drunk and sobbing, playing dangerously with one of Winky’s kitchen knives. It was an heirloom, an antique, and Rab nearly broke the law to get it from him. Ever night, after the dreams that inevitably come, Barty can’t help but wonder why Rab did such a thing, what on Earth could have possessed him to cling so fervently to one of his best mates, who has yet to prove that he’s anything but useless. A good boy from good parents who will just keep doing good.
His subconscious seems to have other plans. It wants to kill Evans. It wants him to do it.
That’s why he wakes up pale as death, drenched in cold sweat, and gasping for breath. Screaming as though he’d seen the Devil himself. It’s bad tonight. He hexes the little bitch silly, gives her the Cruciatus until she loses her voice from screaming and passes out, and, finally, he carves out her heart by hand and holds it until it has its last, weakling pulse. He clenches his fingers on it like a vice; he squeezes until her heart bursts and stains his face. A drop lands on his lips; he licks it off. Her blood tastes coppery, but, somehow, sweet.
He makes Severus watch and that, more than the act of torturing and killing, of utterly destroying a defenseless girl – that control is so exquisite. Its beauty far surpasses all else. And then he takes his almost lover, has his way (for once), and bites to draw more blood. He relishes in it.
That’s why he wakes up screaming. That’s why he once thought it wise to have half a bottle of Firewhiskey. That’s why Rab conned his brother and Bellatrix into playing nanny to the two of them and Regulus at the Lestrange summer home. That’s why Rab hardly sleeps anymore.
It’s pounding in his head this time, his pulse, beating a tattoo in time with the horrid, morbid, goddamn beating of that Mudblood slag’s defiling heart. The initial scream rouses Rab from his sleep, and the groaning makes him come running. It’s almost adorable how much he cares for Barty, how devoted he is – this whole “healing venture” was his idea, and he panics if Barty so much as drops a fork. The logic goes that this is all in Barty’s nerves. He needs time away from his twelve OWL-level subjects, and from his constant anxiety over Severus.
Even as Rab grabs Barty’s hands to keep him from yanking his hair out, the blonde boy knows without knowing that all of this is futile.
“Another one?” Rab demands helplessly. “What happened?”
“I killed her,” Barty explains. “Tortured her, killed her, cut her up, and made him watch. Had – had my way with him-”
Without warning, Rab embraces Barty around the shoulders, pets his hair with one hand.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “Just a nightmare. It’s why we’re here. It’s all in your-”
“What if it isn’t, though? All in my nerves, I mean.”
“Of course it’s all in your nerves! Why would you think-”
“What if it’s in my soul, Rab? My heart, or my soul, or something, but only my brain tangentially?”
“What are you-”
“You said I needed rest, so I’ve been resting. You made sure of that. We came out here so I could bloody well rest! But these sodding dreams are still getting worse!”
“You’re not resting enough-”
“I can’t get any more rest, Rabastan! You do everything for me!”
“They’ll stop, Barty. Just trust that you’ll get-”
“But, Rab…” Barty pauses, choking on the syllables before he can pronounce them. “I… I like them.”
Rab stares at him, completely blindsided. Trembling, he reaches out and pushes Barty’s hair off his face, tucks it behind his ear.
“Go back to sleep,” he whispers. “It’ll be alright.”
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no subject
Date: 2007-10-31 03:38 am (UTC)This ficlet is indeed a "fantastic terror" - keep up the great work!
(If only all our problems could be solved by going back to sleep...)
no subject
Date: 2007-10-31 06:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-31 02:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-03 08:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-03 08:32 pm (UTC)Again, I love your Barty. He seems so in character, and yet much more developed than the Barty that JKR presents us with.
Very creepy, and yet so good, as usual.
no subject
Date: 2007-11-03 08:58 pm (UTC)Thank you very much, as usual! :D