receiiver:

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Wake Up,
                 Donnie,
                                They Deserve 
                                                          To Die 


They desecrated you, all in the form of jealousy.
And that you were an easy target, just like Donnie
was himself. Private schools weren’t the utopia
they were proclaimed to be, riches made some
jealous, causing nothing but grief. Money never
was the key to happiness, only to tragedy.

                                                                     An axe that was meant to only carve wood,
                                                                     not the skulls of three teenage boys. Crimson
                                                                     liquid showered over the floor soaking the last                                                                                  reminiscence of the naive teens. Guts drooped,
                                                                     and corpses fresh today was they day they met death.

His eyes are wide and greedy, the image of blood smeared across the floor and the taller boys face is beautiful, wretched and at the same time, arousing. He watches each bloody wanker die. Their bodies acting like sacrificed for the evil they had done to him. He doesn’t know why, or care why his saviour is doing this. Perhaps he simply feels remorse for Mycroft’s unfortunate life. Always brilliant, always beaten.

Each moment he spends lying in his bed is nerve wracking and filled with nervous energy. He is still awake when his alarm rings for his morning to begin. Dressing methodically and with the same meticulous quirks, he readies himself for school, to seek out the one he finds so alarmingly different. Mycroft see’s no harm or foul made by the boy, nor does he stop to think for some moment the boy did it for other reasons.  Aware of the dark boy’s following eyes where ever he lurked this month, he just assumed he was  interesting not worth m u r d e r . He takes the desk near him, a nervous smile appearing as he turns towards him.

          ❝  —I’m Mycroft, the oldest Holmes,  
               but I think you already knew that, didn’t you?❞


hermione

truth is, she doesn’t do parties. or any type of social gatherings. hermione feels awkward and uncomfortable being in an environment she cannot fully control. she doesn’t understand the need to be here, but she knows that it is expected of her. as are many other things. the pressure, however, is always welcomed. it gives her a goal. something to strive for — or at least that is what she tells herself every time she dons herself for any type of social event. she stands in a corner, a glass of champagne in one hand, one arm wrapped around her waist almost in a defensive manner, as she watched the room around her, and drank her champagne almost lazily. but it was when she heard a male voice, thick in a posh accent, that she somehow stepped out of her bubble, out of her defence zone, where no one could attack her.

she looks up at this fellow, whom she immediately recognizes, and sighs. mycroft holmes. no one knows what he does, but he has a very high position, and he is very important. probably one of the most intelligent men in great britain. and his words… she frowns, confusion settling across her soft features. how does he know what she wants? ’ i would indeed be very amazed if you could give me world peace, sir. ‘ 

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she manages a smile at her own… audacity, before fixing herself, and her… slip of tongue. ’ at this very moment, what i want most is a way out of this… tedious gathering. ’ though she is most intrigued to hear what it is that he thinks she wants, and the raising of her eyebrow suggests exactly that. 

He’s unsure what about her uncaring demeanor makes him more focused upon her, but it does wonders for the bored feeling he’s been suffering throughout this fiasco of a party. She’s dressed modestly enough, uncaring to bring attention to herself anymore than her name already has with out her permission. Though he must admit that having such a famous personality can be trying; he’s familiar with the glorified persona’s problem. Mycroft finds himself rather annoyed at the lack of information that wizarding community has on him, and therefore decides it must ‘make up’ in order to fill out the gaps. At one point he was claimed to be a supporter of Voldemort and others called him the devil himself. Mycroft never say those reporters again, well except for the little bugs in the jars inside his office. But he doesn’t tell a soul about the spells he trudged up from dark magic for that.

          ❝  —Oh no, world peace would destroy my business pursuits  
               I was thinking more along the lines of offering you a very easy and exciting passage into the Ministress of Magic position. What would you think of that, my dear Miss Granger.❞


droms

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        ❝ And ?   That  has  bugger all  to do with me!
          I’m just here to  fix  the sodding mess.  If you
          think   lording   my  estranged family over me
          is more important than  utilizing me then you
          really  must  be  incompetent  on  an  entirely
          foundational    level.    ❞

                                              She,  had  she  been  able  to  hear  his  thoughts,
                                              would  probably  have  liked  to  have hit  him over
                                              his arrogant little head. Well, she already wanted
                                              to hit his  arrogant  little  head  but the fact he was
                                              much    bigger    than   her   deterred   the   logical,
                                              ruthless,  reptilian part of her brain. And … hitting
                                              people was wrong. She would never. Even though
                                              it  was  just  in  her   head,  she   flicked  her   eyes
                                              suspiciously. Yes; she was obviously a woman of
                                              i  n  f  a  l  l  i  b  l  e     m o r a l s .             Obviously.

Oh dear, he’s struck a n e r v e and 
he loves it. Messing with his new
employees is one of the few happy
moments in his work life, other than
winning wars during his government
hours, not that anyone would know
of his position, not here any how, 
though the Ministry of Magic has 
rang him a few times when trying to
get a bill through the Queen’s hands.
It doesn’t really matter though, when
he’s not being facetious he’s really
rather quite serious and every thing
he does has a reason.

          ❝  —Oh dear,  
               When they warned you hiring you was a mistake,
               I believed them, but I can see from your passionate
               answer they must have been wrong —that was
               s a r c a s m if you were unaware. I couldn’t give a 
               bloody shit what your family did. I just needed to
              gauge your reaction. Which frankly isn’t half as bad
              I’d expected. Take a piece of chocolate and breather
              —let’s talk patients.❞


gatissed:

"Here you are, the dominatrix who brought a nation to its knees."


          ❝  —Felix, daddy’s little boy,  
               daddy’s little liar. You deserve
               to be punished. I know of George’s
               affection towards you. I had no
               idea you returned his emotions.
               Have you any Idea what you’ve caused
               your daddy? I may have to choose
               between you two now. Daddy can’t
               have his little boy running away,
               especially to his lover’s bed.

He want’s to drive the point home,
that they will all be together or Felix
will find himself a new home, one
with out either father. It’s the new 
situation, and the new lover that
has suddenly thrown Mycroft’s
cleverly disguised living situation
with the orphan into distress. He
knew of George’s infatuation but
never imagined he would act on
such silly notions. Now he say
seeing the evidence of a drunken
groping on his property and struggled
to contain his possessive nature. He 
had told George what was his own
would be his as well. Deep breathes
keep him from angrily throwing 
the boy out.

          ❝ You’ve made Daddy’s life very
              hard Felix, do you understand?
              I want you to think very hard
              now, —like a big boy. Do you
              want two daddy’s or just the
              one. If you choose both, you
              will have to obey both our 
              rules. If they are different you
              will still be punished accordingly.❞


He’s so happy about his cup of
coffee he forgoes the normal
check of whether he’s drinking
bloody human remains or just
 a damn good cup of finely 
ground beans. The liquid hits
his tongue with a slight twang
and he lets it slide back out his
mouth and into the cup politely
covering his mouth with a napkin.

          ❝  —Doctor Lecter  
               I thought we agreed, no more
               human spiced latte’s for myself.
               It’s really not my style.❞


          ❝  —What on this bloody planet  
               makes you think I would let you back
               into the military or government locked
               secret facilities after what you’ve done!
               Nearly destroying files of the utmost
               importance while demolishing city
               streets and properties without a even
               a glance…❞

He figures he’s probably being
to harsh on the man, now that
he’s read up the files           &&
touched base with SHIELD.
A deep breath - a pause )

❝What do you have to say for yourself?


          ❝  —No, I won’t allow it.  
               There will be no more missions
               involving you. You’re no longer
               an asset to the British government.❞


nakedmischief:

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          ❝  —You say ‘no escape’ 
               like it’s a good thing …❞ 


dear kardiatisenedras

sorry for taking 500 years. i’m getting those gif cons out today but here are your 25 icons of laura pulver. I tried not to cap irene since your ‘irene’ is more au! and i know she wouldn’t look exactly like adler :)

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nevillles