Sparkly DE's.
Yay! Now that I've finally worked out how to do the cut thingy, I can post fic and such! The following fic is the result of much crack and late-night IMing between me and some friends. The Sparkly DE's is what the fearsome Death Eaters of Harry Potter fame would be like if they were 200% more Muggle, Gay, and ADD. Co-Written with Rossana Black, this is part 1 of the fic.
(Warning- Swearing, alchol, references to sex, nudity, and Riverdance.)
Lucius added the final swirl to his signature and quickly folded the paper into the envelope and sealed it. Leaning back, he grinned and summoned his house-elf. The poor creature was sent off with a pile taller then his head of green and silver letters to be sent off immediately. The tall blonde haired wizard poured himself a new margarita and congratulated himself on a job well done. Soon the missives would find their way to their respective targets and everything would be ready. Oh yes, today had been a very good day.
The dark, dusty room adorned with heavy bookcases was currently occupied by a dour man hunched over a table covered with various cauldrons and vials. He was just about to add the powdered butterflies to the simmering pot filled with extract of daffodils when the owl came down the fireplace and landed next to him. The man jumped back and spilled the powdered butterfly all over the rug.
“Damn it! Bloody owl, do you know how close I was? Everybody is always trying to get me to brew some shampoo, but as soon as I start owls have to come flying down my chimney!” Snape harshly grabbed the letter from the owl’s beak and got nipped in return. Shaking his finger and cursing at the owl flying back outside, he opened it and started to read. His face grew more and more pinched as he went on. Snarling, he crumpled up the letter and threw it into the corner. Pacing around his cramped room he began to mutter under his breath.
“He wants me to jump naked out of a cake? Oh, sorry, not entirely naked. I can wear a bow around my neck! Damn him, I am not his fuck-toy, how many times must I say this? Just because we will undoubtedly end up shagging by the end of the night is no reason for this, this, travesty. I have some dignity left after all! Shite. I can’t just refuse outright, it won’t be pretty.” He tiredly rubbed his forehead. “Perhaps I can find some way out of it. I have to take a stand, I am sick and tired of the whispered giggles directed at me every meeting.” Snape drank an entire bottle of Firewhiskey that night.
The house-elf hesitantly brought the letter to the large, rough-looking man sitting by the desk. “Oh, stop quivering; it’s been ages since the last one! Honestly, I only confuse you elfs for children when I’m really really angry.” Fenrir saw the seal on the letter and growled. “Damn the man! What can he want?” He angrily scanned it, his face falling at the end. “Bugger. I already have a Wizarding Weight Watchers meeting scheduled for that day! And Lucius will no doubt pitch a fit if everybody doesn’t come.” The werewolf considered the turn of events. “Aha!” he sat back down at his desk and began to write.
The clearing still echoed with the sound of the large bikes, turned off as their riders watched one of their leather clad members read the curious letter he’d gotten. They was mainly curious because owls do not usually deliver letters to the Sheffield Biker’s Association. Walden “The Axe” MacNair frowned as he read the last part. “What was that all about?” asked Billy “Stonehead” Durvish.
“Eh? Oh, it’s just one of my…..co-workers scheduled a party for the same day as our County Race. Bugger, and he can get testy when he doesn’t get his way.” The rest of the tattooed and pierced bikers looked around at each other. The Axe was a vital member of the team, how were they supposed to win the race if he wasn’t there to do the lucky beer chug and Riverdance beforehand? Shrugging, Walden crumpled up the letter and threw it on the ground. “Oh well, I’ll just tell him I can’t make it. Now, let’s ride!” Several yells and hoots went up as the SBA rode off.
(Warning- Swearing, alchol, references to sex, nudity, and Riverdance.)
Lucius added the final swirl to his signature and quickly folded the paper into the envelope and sealed it. Leaning back, he grinned and summoned his house-elf. The poor creature was sent off with a pile taller then his head of green and silver letters to be sent off immediately. The tall blonde haired wizard poured himself a new margarita and congratulated himself on a job well done. Soon the missives would find their way to their respective targets and everything would be ready. Oh yes, today had been a very good day.
The dark, dusty room adorned with heavy bookcases was currently occupied by a dour man hunched over a table covered with various cauldrons and vials. He was just about to add the powdered butterflies to the simmering pot filled with extract of daffodils when the owl came down the fireplace and landed next to him. The man jumped back and spilled the powdered butterfly all over the rug.
“Damn it! Bloody owl, do you know how close I was? Everybody is always trying to get me to brew some shampoo, but as soon as I start owls have to come flying down my chimney!” Snape harshly grabbed the letter from the owl’s beak and got nipped in return. Shaking his finger and cursing at the owl flying back outside, he opened it and started to read. His face grew more and more pinched as he went on. Snarling, he crumpled up the letter and threw it into the corner. Pacing around his cramped room he began to mutter under his breath.
“He wants me to jump naked out of a cake? Oh, sorry, not entirely naked. I can wear a bow around my neck! Damn him, I am not his fuck-toy, how many times must I say this? Just because we will undoubtedly end up shagging by the end of the night is no reason for this, this, travesty. I have some dignity left after all! Shite. I can’t just refuse outright, it won’t be pretty.” He tiredly rubbed his forehead. “Perhaps I can find some way out of it. I have to take a stand, I am sick and tired of the whispered giggles directed at me every meeting.” Snape drank an entire bottle of Firewhiskey that night.
The house-elf hesitantly brought the letter to the large, rough-looking man sitting by the desk. “Oh, stop quivering; it’s been ages since the last one! Honestly, I only confuse you elfs for children when I’m really really angry.” Fenrir saw the seal on the letter and growled. “Damn the man! What can he want?” He angrily scanned it, his face falling at the end. “Bugger. I already have a Wizarding Weight Watchers meeting scheduled for that day! And Lucius will no doubt pitch a fit if everybody doesn’t come.” The werewolf considered the turn of events. “Aha!” he sat back down at his desk and began to write.
The clearing still echoed with the sound of the large bikes, turned off as their riders watched one of their leather clad members read the curious letter he’d gotten. They was mainly curious because owls do not usually deliver letters to the Sheffield Biker’s Association. Walden “The Axe” MacNair frowned as he read the last part. “What was that all about?” asked Billy “Stonehead” Durvish.
“Eh? Oh, it’s just one of my…..co-workers scheduled a party for the same day as our County Race. Bugger, and he can get testy when he doesn’t get his way.” The rest of the tattooed and pierced bikers looked around at each other. The Axe was a vital member of the team, how were they supposed to win the race if he wasn’t there to do the lucky beer chug and Riverdance beforehand? Shrugging, Walden crumpled up the letter and threw it on the ground. “Oh well, I’ll just tell him I can’t make it. Now, let’s ride!” Several yells and hoots went up as the SBA rode off.