Status reports, poll results, etcetera.
Mar. 7th, 2003 06:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
letterbladeLoS 2 complete; beta #1, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
strange_fire, satisfied; awaiting word from beta #2, mctabby.
Picking up the last of the ask me any question poll:
fersevis: Have you no dignity?
wired_lizard: It wouldn't fit in the car to drive up here.
original_fifi: DO you like monkeybuttons?
wired_lizard: I have not partaken of that which you call monkeybuttons.
isicolo: 12, 110, or 220 volts?
wired_lizard: Caffiene.
As for the drabbles:
isiscolo (Narcissa/Any Weasley; dressing, undressing, or crossdressing; at least one house-elf should make an appearance), I wrote something of a drabble, but as is it is ugly and compressed, because it is a far larger bunny than a drabble. Started out Narcissa/Ginny, because I wanted to, and will mutate into a Narcissa/Ginny/Tom threesome, with Tom on the very bottom, if I give it more time. Not that I don't want that, but it is not a drabble.
mctabby (Tom/Gilderoy; something to do with that diary, of course), it is written. It wound up being more Lucius/Tom/Gilderoy than anything else, but I figured you wouldn't mind. Kinky.
So after the ineffectual little creature got his own brain wiped, people would ask me--usually the same people who disliked, rather strongly, the decision to sack me as a Hogwarts governor--how Gilderoy Lockhart had ever gotten the job in the first place.
Quite simple, really. After that debacle with Quirrell, I decided I would not suffer any man to take the Defense position unless he was willing to let me debauch him, thoroughly, and on a regular basis. After all, I've always found I have more control over those who I take to my bed. And Lockhart, despite his most annoying personality, proved as competent as a fucktoy as he is incompetent as a wizard.
That I tell people. The rest--no.
For the first few months, it was absolutely delightful--because, naturally, I introduced him to Tom Riddle. At first, I'd been planning to use him instead of that Weasley brat--who better placed to open the Chamber but the most incompetent of professors, held in thrall by my greatest tool, the boy who fancied himself the Dark Lord? And in the meantime, with a few strokes of my pen, I could have access to the two most beautiful playthings I've ever had at my disposal: Lockhart who would give himself to both of us, a handsome blond cherub begging to be sullied, debasing himself for the reward of mere pleasure; and Riddle, so impossibly desirable, so proud, so cruel, whom I had to break anew every time I took him, yet who would beg for pain as well as pleasure when I held him properly in thrall.
Then Lockhart--the impossible sodding idiot--went and fell in love with Riddle.
Such a pretty pair they could have been, bound to my will until the time came to let them loose upon Hogwarts with a basilisk in tow. Such a pretty pair they were, for those months, when I took Lockhart into the diary to yoke them both with twin collars. But no. I could have nothing more to do with Lockhart, not after he trumpeted his eternal love and devotion to my greatest tool.
Thrice-cursed fool.
~~~
biichan (Moody/Riddle; early seventies; lots of hard liquor), it is written. Featuring NotEntirelyParanoidYetAndAlcoholic!Moody; this is not LoS continuity. Kinkier.
One thing I can say about being an Auror, now that these sodding Death Eaters are springing up like fleas--you need a very stiff drink about once an hour.
I'm making up for a couple of days worth here. Stupid waitress keeps staring at me, too. You'd think she'd never seen a curse scar before. Or this much whisky. She works at a pub, for crying out loud! And I am not weaving.
Not much, anyway. Stop staring at me.
The funniest thing about this night, actually, is that I don't remember any more until the next morning. Now I'm used to that, but I usually get home and have a nightcap or four and then pass out. But my memory gives out at the pub.
Bloody, fucking hell.
I'm home, it's morning, my head's splitting open, and there are two stains on the mattress. Fucking two.
I'm in the bathroom by the time I start to remember. Tall-dark-and-handsome, nobody I recognize, looks my age but looks it better, 'cause nobody ages faster than an Auror these days--overworked, underslept, and curse-stained, with a new clump of gray hair for every Unforgivable on the record. Never bloody thought somebody'd pick me up in a pub, else I wouldn’t go drinking. But tall-dark-and-handsome did, for crying out loud.
Tall-dark-and-handsome took me home, kissed every scar on my body, and took me so hard he left long welts and scabs of nails all down my back. Tall-dark-and-handsome’s eyes sparked when he sucked my cock into his throat, and glowed pure blood red when he found my razor blades and started carving patterns on my chest.
Bloody, fucking HELL!
Tall-dark-and-handsome left his name written in blood on my bathroom mirror.
I am Lord Voldemort.
I am never going drinking again.
~~~
rabican (Salazar/Godric; eeeeh...whatever you want; can Godric be sub? Sub!Godric is entertaining.) and nicolae (Tom Riddle; post-killing Myrtle), they're coming.
Don't entirely feel like I've got the rhythm of drabbles yet; both of those above feel like they're longer stories that I'm writing too fast. Blerrrr. Comments, anyone?
strange_fire, satisfied; awaiting word from beta #2, mctabby.Picking up the last of the ask me any question poll:
fersevis: Have you no dignity?wired_lizard: It wouldn't fit in the car to drive up here.original_fifi: DO you like monkeybuttons?wired_lizard: I have not partaken of that which you call monkeybuttons.isicolo: 12, 110, or 220 volts?wired_lizard: Caffiene.As for the drabbles:
isiscolo (Narcissa/Any Weasley; dressing, undressing, or crossdressing; at least one house-elf should make an appearance), I wrote something of a drabble, but as is it is ugly and compressed, because it is a far larger bunny than a drabble. Started out Narcissa/Ginny, because I wanted to, and will mutate into a Narcissa/Ginny/Tom threesome, with Tom on the very bottom, if I give it more time. Not that I don't want that, but it is not a drabble.mctabby (Tom/Gilderoy; something to do with that diary, of course), it is written. It wound up being more Lucius/Tom/Gilderoy than anything else, but I figured you wouldn't mind. Kinky.A Few of my Favorite Toys
So after the ineffectual little creature got his own brain wiped, people would ask me--usually the same people who disliked, rather strongly, the decision to sack me as a Hogwarts governor--how Gilderoy Lockhart had ever gotten the job in the first place.
Quite simple, really. After that debacle with Quirrell, I decided I would not suffer any man to take the Defense position unless he was willing to let me debauch him, thoroughly, and on a regular basis. After all, I've always found I have more control over those who I take to my bed. And Lockhart, despite his most annoying personality, proved as competent as a fucktoy as he is incompetent as a wizard.
That I tell people. The rest--no.
For the first few months, it was absolutely delightful--because, naturally, I introduced him to Tom Riddle. At first, I'd been planning to use him instead of that Weasley brat--who better placed to open the Chamber but the most incompetent of professors, held in thrall by my greatest tool, the boy who fancied himself the Dark Lord? And in the meantime, with a few strokes of my pen, I could have access to the two most beautiful playthings I've ever had at my disposal: Lockhart who would give himself to both of us, a handsome blond cherub begging to be sullied, debasing himself for the reward of mere pleasure; and Riddle, so impossibly desirable, so proud, so cruel, whom I had to break anew every time I took him, yet who would beg for pain as well as pleasure when I held him properly in thrall.
Then Lockhart--the impossible sodding idiot--went and fell in love with Riddle.
Such a pretty pair they could have been, bound to my will until the time came to let them loose upon Hogwarts with a basilisk in tow. Such a pretty pair they were, for those months, when I took Lockhart into the diary to yoke them both with twin collars. But no. I could have nothing more to do with Lockhart, not after he trumpeted his eternal love and devotion to my greatest tool.
Thrice-cursed fool.
~~~
biichan (Moody/Riddle; early seventies; lots of hard liquor), it is written. Featuring NotEntirelyParanoidYetAndAlcoholic!Moody; this is not LoS continuity. Kinkier.Bloody
One thing I can say about being an Auror, now that these sodding Death Eaters are springing up like fleas--you need a very stiff drink about once an hour.
I'm making up for a couple of days worth here. Stupid waitress keeps staring at me, too. You'd think she'd never seen a curse scar before. Or this much whisky. She works at a pub, for crying out loud! And I am not weaving.
Not much, anyway. Stop staring at me.
The funniest thing about this night, actually, is that I don't remember any more until the next morning. Now I'm used to that, but I usually get home and have a nightcap or four and then pass out. But my memory gives out at the pub.
Bloody, fucking hell.
I'm home, it's morning, my head's splitting open, and there are two stains on the mattress. Fucking two.
I'm in the bathroom by the time I start to remember. Tall-dark-and-handsome, nobody I recognize, looks my age but looks it better, 'cause nobody ages faster than an Auror these days--overworked, underslept, and curse-stained, with a new clump of gray hair for every Unforgivable on the record. Never bloody thought somebody'd pick me up in a pub, else I wouldn’t go drinking. But tall-dark-and-handsome did, for crying out loud.
Tall-dark-and-handsome took me home, kissed every scar on my body, and took me so hard he left long welts and scabs of nails all down my back. Tall-dark-and-handsome’s eyes sparked when he sucked my cock into his throat, and glowed pure blood red when he found my razor blades and started carving patterns on my chest.
Bloody, fucking HELL!
Tall-dark-and-handsome left his name written in blood on my bathroom mirror.
I am Lord Voldemort.
I am never going drinking again.
~~~
rabican (Salazar/Godric; eeeeh...whatever you want; can Godric be sub? Sub!Godric is entertaining.) and nicolae (Tom Riddle; post-killing Myrtle), they're coming.Don't entirely feel like I've got the rhythm of drabbles yet; both of those above feel like they're longer stories that I'm writing too fast. Blerrrr. Comments, anyone?