standsonhigh | There's nothing here but what here's mine.

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psl: barty

There's nothing here but what here's mine.

This wasn't, exactly, how he had planned his return. He had expected to be on home turf, a place he understood and wanted to be. Surrounded by worshippers and already plotting. Not here with some strange man using the power he gave specifically to his followers to bring him back. The books of Saxon weren't meant to be public knowledge, they were his private notes, and yet this man decided to drag him into a world he didn't want to be in.

The Master always had a funny feeling that magic wasn't something he should of ever tried to toy with because as it stood, he didn't like where this was going. It defied the logic he knew.

Voldemort was a strange creature, a very unpleasant one at that. He looked sickly and his eyes were red like an albino. Still, he didn't say much on it, he'd looked worse himself and damages were just a sign of ambition and desire. It always took everything out of you, especially with humans.

The drums were raging in his head as he followed Voldemort into this meeting he'd decided to attend. He'd only been back a few days and already he seemed to of captured the imagination of this tiny little creature who was all but eager to introduce him.

An ancient ruler from another reality must of been interesting.

He didn't walk behind Voldemort, he kept in step, not willing to seem a lesser. Hey, the dark lord brought him here. If he was going to play with this merry band of psychopaths, he wanted to seem equal.

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Being a wizard, Barty had lived for the first nineteen years barely ever hearing Christmas songs. Right now he'd arrived at the conclusion that - even with all else that was wrong with his life - this part he definitely had reason to be grateful for.

Deck the halls with boughs of holly,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.

However, he still wasn't feeling particularly grateful at the moment, for many reasons, one of them being the speakers near him that had been incessantly blaring Christmas songs for what seemed like hours.

Tis the season to be jolly,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.

An even more convincing reason was that he couldn't move away from the speakers, because he could barely move at all. His hands were tied, literally, behind his back, tied to his ankles, in fact, with what he'd been told were Christmas lights. They weren't lit, but that didn't appear to make much of a difference anyway and it definitely didn't keep them from being a lot more sturdy than they had any right to be.

Don we now our gay apparel,
Fa la la, la la la, la la la.

All he could do was squirm, which he did as inconspicuously as possible because he did have some pride after all. Especially given how ridiculous he felt wearing the suit and hardly matching shoes. Everything for the Master, although right now if he had a choice in what he had for the Master it would mostly have been a few choice words. That wasn't really happening either though, because after a few failed attempts with bows and the like, his mouth was now forced open with a bright red Christmas bauble kept in with tape and although he might have been able to work that out as well, it was far likely that it would just break and cut the inside of his mouth and that, he knew from experience, wasn't pleasant at all.

So he was resigned, for the moment, to glaring darkly at the Christmas tree next to him and listen to whatever song was playing at the moment.

Troll the ancient Yule tide carol,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.

"See the blazing Yule before us. Fa la la la la, la la la la," The Master sang out at the very top of his lungs as he burst in, joyous grin on his face. Oh Santa always knew just what he wanted and made it so possible for him to enjoy, hence why he was literally beaming at Barty like at kid at Christmas. He was wearing a bright flashing Santa's hat and had wrapped some tinsel around his neck like a casual scarf. The words 'happy holidays' beamed off the brim of the awful red and white hat, making the season even harder to ignore.

Most wizards found Christmas a baffling affair, especially with all the 'muggle' traditions. But the Master just found it sad how little they appreciated this kind of whimsy. And so they were all forced to educate themselves and celebrate this year under the Master's rule. Even Barty.

The reluctant little sod brought this on himself, he really did.

"Strike the harp and join the chorus. Fa la la la la, la la la la," the Master continued, following the music perfectly as he leapt onto the bed and jumped around on it, making Barty bounce about on the mattress helplessly, unable to escape the festive joy being forced upon him. Finally, in an effort to seem kind, he stopped bouncing and simply smirked, fall down into a sitting position. Victory was the sweetest thing, especially on this day. The holiest of days.

"I've been a very good boy this year, Barty. I've been told I get to open my gifts early and everything."

Yes, it wasn't even Christmas yet. They still had one very long night left to go before this madness could end and the Christmas songs could be turned off. He loved loud music, even nonsense like this. It drowned out the drumming and spread some christmas cheer at the same time, it was a dual purpose miracle.

That entrance was as unsurprising as anything else and if he hadn't been tied up for what definitely felt like too long and if he hadn't, especially, been gagged, which he hated so much that it only figured that the Master would love it, Barty might have minded less. Might have even felt festive himself.

As it was he just tried to bounce as little as possible, holding on to a shred of dignity he most definitely didn't possess anymore right now and glowered at the Master, huffing as best as he could as his only means to voice his opinion on what a good boy the Master was.

He rolled to the side, to better look up at the Master, fiddling around with the cables that bound them and hoping he would manage to twist free. He'd been working on that for a while now and was actually starting to make slow progress, even though his hands were going numb.

The Master gripped Barty's shoulders and rolled him awkwardly onto his back so he could look him in the eyes. Perhaps they should of just bound him to the bedpost? That would of been much easier as opposed to something like this where he was positioned somewhat awkwardly. Still, it was the thought that counted. And he knew Barty must of loathed this. "Well, aren't you all wrapped up nice and neatly?"

Playfully, he ruffled Barty's hair and gave him a quick kiss on the forehead before letting him roll back into the position he had been, excitedly jumping off the bed. He had so much energy, he could barely control himself. It was just the excitement that came with the power of the moment.

"Oh woah, these actually come with a plug," the Master said, following the wire that was bound around Barty. Smirking, he yanked at the cord and dragged it over to a nearby socket, shoving it in and barely suppressing his laughter when Barty lit up. Like a strange christmas tree. "This is just the best."

Barty was indeed loathing every moment of this, no matter how it was bound. Sure, the position wasn't comfortable, either, but that was really the least of his problems here. He tried hitting the Master with his knees, bu that seemed to be fated to fail as well, so he sighed, almost resigned for the moment, at least until he saw just what the Master was doing.

Sure, he didn't know a lot about electricity, but the concept of lights lighting up was easy enough to grasp and so he figured out what would happen before it actually did. He groaned, as much as he could, when he found himself illuminated such, working even harder on getting his hands free, since right now the prospect of throttling the Master seemed very tempting indeed.

He really hated Christmas.

The Master stood back and appreciated his new christmas tree with a pleased expression, taking a mental picture so he'd never forget that scowl he wore. He was tempted to drag him out into the hall and leave him there on display but Barty had been a good boy too this year and he deserved a few breaks. Here and there, at least,

He came around to Barty's side of the bed and knelt down, undoing the tape across his mouth and slipping the bauble out. It was officially ruined, covered in horrible drool and now very much unfestive. With a sigh, he tossed it over his shoulder and ignore the smashing noise.

"Comments? Feedback? Praise? ... A few lines of 'rocking around the Christmas tree'?" the Master asked playfully, waiting to hear whatever hatred was coming his way.

That at the very least no one but the Master saw him like this was some small consolation, he could only hope it would stay that way. While he didn't bother with it in any conventional sense, there was still a certain dignity he tried to preserve and being tied up with Christmas items and even lit up, well, that would have been a bit much to take in stride if he had an audience.

Barty stretched his jaw, tongue coming out to lick his lips. He eyed the Master darkly, but when he finally spoke, it wasn't against him, at least. "That Jesus should never have been born." His knowledge of Christmas and the lore behind it wasn't very extensive, but at least enough to know the basics and casually unwish the existence of Christianity. He shifted, a failed attempt at sitting up, ending up just bouncing on the bed a little.

"How is this supposed to be festive? Can't even move."

"You're lit up, everyone is happy, you're listening to annoying songs and you're generally unhappy about it all. That's Christmas in a nutshell," the Master summed up, knowing from experience that most humans just got stressed, angry and whined a lot during this holiday. And few even remembered anything about Jesus so that wasn't even an interesting point.

With a sigh, the Master patted Barty's cheek before pulling himself upright, using his newly retrieved screwdriver to turn down the volume on the speakers. Even he was getting a little fed up of Frosty the Snowman.

"What did you do in December? Like special wizard only festivals? Do wizards just avoid all the fun aspects of human traditions?" the Master asked with notable dismay. These death eaters spoke so poorly of 'muggles' but they seemed to do things so much better. "We never had this stuff on Gallifrey! It was all robes and boring speeches."

Yep, he just casually told Barty his planets name. Probably the most he'd shared with any human in a long time.

"We do Christmas. Just not the religious part of it or, apparently, some of the traditions." Barty did smirk at that, if only for a moment. The fact that, at least, his mouth was free did make him feel marginally less grumpy. Having the music turned down helped, too.

"Presents and feasts and the like. We had that." But even as he spoke so casually, Barty's heart rate had sped up just a little. Gallifrey. He knew better than to ask questions, but he did realize the significance.

"Although with my family, it was mostly just robes and boring speeches, too." His shoulders moved as he tried to work his right hand out of the cables, but he was a bit beyond caring whether the Master noticed him trying to get free. He'd have seen sooner or later anyway, giving him a heads up might actually decrease the possibility of punishment.

"We never had anything with presents and music. It's such fun! Time Lords never understood fun, you have no idea how dull it was to grow up with such a sad bunch of joyless bastards," the Master ranted, perhaps opening up a little more on his home than he usually would with strangers. As he got to know Barty more and more, he realised he had a level of authority and power over him without having to crush him completely.

And with that, he knew he could trust him. On some level at least. The odds of him repeating this all to anyone was so unlikely that he let things slip, just every now and again when he felt like a rant.

"We didn't really have family either. So I suppose Christmas would of been an awkward and strange affair," the Master remarked with a vague shrug. He could only imagine what it'd be like at home with his cousins. Or worse, stuck at the academy with Theta. He'd loved the lad but he was a total idiot and always got the worst things as a gift. "This is much better, don't you think?"

"Christmas was always an awkward and strange affair because I had family."

It was all filed away, although Barty, at least at the moment, certainly had no plan of passing any of it on for anyone. He just liked being told. He liked being trusted. And so he remembered it all, tried to figure the man, Time Lord before him out as much as he possibly could. He knew he'd not talk like this to just anyone and that alone felt good, in a way.

"Much better? That's rather a point of view matter," Barty conceded, while he slowly got his thumb disentangled. Perhaps it was time for a change of said point of view while he was at it. He pulled his hand free and turned to the side enough to glance about the room. "Accio, wand."

"Awful thing to have, family. And all manner of attachments. Such a bother."

The Master came back to his feet and turned around to reassess the speakers and pick the next song when Barty said something -- erm, stupid? Which usually meant magic. What was wrong with these people, could they not speak their own language and had to make it all up? With a sigh, he turned around to berate his 'present' then he noticed Barty's hand was free.

And his wand was getting closer. Huh. "What? No! No, no, no. You better not do that. Bad Barty, stop ruining my present!"

Barty caught the wand easily enough and then he waited. Definitely not a hesitation, much too deliberate for that. Not a long wait, either, just long enough to perhaps prove a point. Not quite a threat, not quite a warning, but still close enough to either of those. He waited long enough that if he had wanted to, he could have easily gotten free and then some. Any wizard of his caliber could.

But instead, with perhaps the slightest roll of his eyes, he turned his hand and held it out to the Master, surrendering. Submitting.

"It's not very comfortable." Also, he was glowing.

At first, he'd paused himself, unable to think how to take this. He had expected more of an attack, some sort of revenge coming his way. After all, if someone did this to him then he'd seek to destroy them in any way. It said a lot about Barty's loyalty that he held back, not directing anything at him.

Once he was sure he wasn't going to be attacked, the Master took the wand and pouted slightly. Well, Barty had been good but this sort of ruined his moment. Now it just felt like over-kill to punish him.

"Fine," the Master said, sighing reluctantly. "I'll untie you."

And, with that, he headed over to the plug to end the flowing. "You're such a killjoy."

That, Barty decided, definitely counted as a victory. He wet his lips and did what he could to not seem triumphant, which luckily was no problem as he was a fairly good actor. So he didn't smirk, but he did raise his eyebrows.

"Untying? I was thinking more..." He used his free hand to prop himself up a little, which still didn't work overly well. "...a different position."

Because he definitely knew that it wasn't a good idea to take the Master's toys from him. Even if he was said toy.

"Well, I didn't ever say you'd be untied for long," the Master shot back, a dark smirk on his face as he finally turned off the plugs and returned to Barty, untangling his ankles from his wrists so his legs could lie flat. He could probably keep his hands together and just tie the cable around the headboard.

Putting said plan into action, it took him several moments and a few curses to successfully get Barty's arms secured into place. Good enough, anyway, he could probably wriggle free with enough pressure but he doubted Barty would take that risk.

He didn't like upsetting his master. "I leave the bauble. This time. But it's an interesting idea, a breakable gag that could slice your whole mouth open."

"Fair enough." Barty let himself be freed as much as he was and didn't offer his help with any of the retying, obviously. Although the new position was vastly preferable, that much was for sure. "You know there are spells that could help with that? Tying?"

He didn't try struggling, at least for the moment, although he did make a face at the Master's words. "Interesting, sure. For you, maybe. For me, it mostly makes me re-evaluate life choices." Gags were already pretty insufferable. Gags with the potential to slice his mouth open? Those could just get lost. Or, of course... "Maybe used on someone else."

It really was all about perspective."

"I hate spells, I'm so tired of hearing about spells and magic. Who cares?" the Master ranted, clearly annoyed by all of this magic stuff. And it always piled on and on though the day because it was a topic that never stopped. Admittedly he was in a universe of magic but they needed to give it a rest soon or he was going to lose his temper. "Don't talk to me about magic unless I ask about it."

He happily clambered onto Barty, sitting on his stomach, leaning over him with a dangerous smile. It looked happy but it didn't reach his eyes, it was one of those hollow smiles that never meant anything good.

"Of course we'd use it on someone else. Just imagine it? Which little worm from your silly gang would benefit from such a device?" He still didn't know his followers well but Barty did, he probably had some sort of input.

"As you wish, Master." If there was sarcasm to that reply, Barty hid it very well, as was the smart thing to do when tied up on his back with the Master on top of him. He met his eyes and he knew him well enough, at least, to be able to tell that the emptiness there meant nothing good. But that didn't necessarily have to be bad for him, so he stayed calm, let his tongue flick out to lick his lips and smiled.

"I think most of them talk too much, to be quite honest." But the thought, when applied to someone other than him, was very interesting indeed. "Any of the really proud ones. The old, rich families. Malfoy, Lestrange, Black... They'd hate it the most."

He caught that edge of sarcasm but he he wasn't entirely sure if that was just how Barty spoke. Regardless, he loomed in closer and threaded his fingers through his gifts hair, gripping a chunk of it tight to make sure he had his attention. "I do love it when you say my name, you really know how to push my buttons."

Taking a mental note of the names he was given, he swiftly pulled Barty into a rather passionate kiss, biting his lower lip perhaps harder than needed and really taking a liberty with his tongue. But hey, it was Christmas, why not indulge? When he did finally pull back, he licked his lips and laughed breathlessly. "I'll have to make a list."

"I'm learning," Barty said with very obviously faked modesty and an even more obvious grin. He definitely knew where his attention had to be, but the hold of his hair served as a good reminder. "I'm glad you like it." Also very deliberately not saying his name just then.

Besides, a moment later his mouth was occupied anyway and he had to make sure he gave as good as he got, eyes closing and moaning at the pain of the bite and generally not holding back. "No list needed. Just point at who annoys you and I can tell you what'd annoy them the most."

He'd make a great personal assistant.

Oh that lack of naming wounded him, it really did. He allowed Barty to give as much as he could, pleased by the display of power he was getting off his servant. For his servant, he was very challenging and functioned better than most might under his circumstances. He wasn't sniffling or whimpering in fear but he knew his place well enough. The Master not only admired it but enjoyed it. Not quite an equal but ... well, maybe a fun little friend? And he used the term friend loosely.

He didn't make friends and people didn't usually fuck their friends, he supposed. But against his best judgement, he liked Barty.

"You're so good to me, the gift that keeps on giving," the Master cooed playfully, unable not to smile at Barty. "I don't overly like the Malfoys. Let's destroy them."

"Oh?" Here's why he didn't have to believe in a god. This man here was much better at listening to his prayers. Or very dark and twisted thoughts, at least. Barty moved under him, just a little, tilting his hips and chasing some friction. "That's just fine with me." So he was smiling too. "Very much so, in fact."

For what little positive feeling he had ever felt toward anyone, there had been plenty of space for contempt, envy and hatred. Much more fulfilling in the long run, he'd come to find. On the other hand though.

"See, that's why I love you so." He laughed, because he could, and because he was even starting to mind the incessant Christmas songs less. "Master."

Barty was always so willing for everything, it's why the Master liked him so much. Talk of torture and revenge got them both in the mood and little else seemed quite as fun as moments like this, when they had plans ahead and a fun night of activity to go. With a smirk, he also tilted towards Barty, happily giving him the friction he craved. Just not enough to be satisfied. It was always so much more funny to draw out the foreplay, it made Barty so desperate.

"How should we do it? I don't like Lucius, we should get him first. He talks big but he's a snivelling little coward. And I'm pretty sure he was mocking me yesterday. And he knows I know, I'm just letting him stew. So, whatever should we do?"

With an amused smile, he let his hand ride up Barty's leg, resting in a very suggestive place. "I know you love me, why wouldn't you? I'm brilliant."

"Make him shave his head." The suggestion was only half-serious, although the thought of Lucius' face at receiving that order was very entertaining. He swallowed, eyes darting to the hand on his leg and, well, he shifted, much as he could, trying to get the hand into a better position. His tongue flicked out for a moment, but his eyes found the Master's again.

"You are brilliant. Love you more every time you show it." He grinned and bit down on his lip, then smiled. "Think Lucius can clean? The muggle way?"

There's nothing here but what here's mine.

Random Christmas Interlude that can be set at any point down the line, really.

Best Christmas gift ever

Merry Christmas!

You give me the best things

All you want for Christmas and all...

Tis the season for bondage and torture!

Falalala, lalalala!

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