Incidentally, that Dr Who prompt I've begun is eating my brain. Help!
It's going to have sequel to it, to.
I love crossovers. I myself have a strange craving for Hetalia/Dresden files crossover
It's going to have sequel to it, to.
I love crossovers. I myself have a strange craving for Hetalia/Dresden files crossover
Yay! I love Harry's flood of ideas, and John all, "pick one! pick one now!"
(DA) The request does show the signs of contact with Meteor Gordon-Levitt.
Oh Marcone. (happy sigh)
Oh Marcone. (happy sigh)
There is no outsmarting John Marcone, he only lets you think you've outsmarted him as part of his Master Plan.
And if you do outsmart him?
He has a backup plan for that too.
He has a backup plan for that too.
I really want to see this pairing done. I don't care how, just make it happen, please. Would especially like it if Sanya was called to Chicago for a Mission From God and keeps being thrown together with Harry. Match-maker!Almighty, anyone? Come on!
And a backup plan for the backup plan, just in case Harry Dresden shows up. Because John Marcone always makes room in his plans for Harry Dresden.
John Marcone only lets Harry Dresden blow up buildings as part of his plan; all his other buildings have been warded against such attempts.
John Marcone only lets Harry Dresden blow up buildings as part of his plan; all his other buildings have been warded against such attempts.
Re: oh why the fuck not, let's be neat about things
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
luciazephyr
2011-03-10 01:36 am (UTC)(link)
Because John Marcone always makes room in his pants for Harry Dresden.
Fixed that for you.
Fixed that for you.
Re: oh why the fuck not, let's be neat about things
(Anonymous) 2011-03-10 01:38 am (UTC)(link)On that note - he also always makes room for Harry Dresden in his bed, in his car, and in his limo.
Dude, I want this like a burning thing! I can just imagine Harry and Marcone waging a secret war over Hendrick's loyalties (Boss vs Boyfriend!) or Murphey giving Hendricks "The Talk" about not hurting Harry (and then Marcone giving Harry a super-subtle-annoyingly-pleasant Death Threat about not breaking Hendrick's heart).
Re: oh why the fuck not, let's be neat about things
luciazephyr
2011-03-10 01:39 am (UTC)(link)
On the bed, on the floor, on a towel by the door, in the tub, in the car, up against the mini-bar!
Sorry, I apologize.
Sorry, I apologize.
Re: oh why the fuck not, let's be neat about things
(Anonymous) 2011-03-10 01:44 am (UTC)(link)....yes, yes I want all of those. No need to apologize, because YES.
John Marcone is not foiled by non-compliance to his plans, because he has a plan for that to. As a result, everything always goes according to John Marcone's plans. Including John Marcone's Plans to have Harry Dresden on his back, on his belly, against the wall, under the desk, in the office, in the kitchen, and all his other Plans concerning Harry Dresden.
John Marcone is not foiled by non-compliance to his plans, because he has a plan for that to. As a result, everything always goes according to John Marcone's plans. Including John Marcone's Plans to have Harry Dresden on his back, on his belly, against the wall, under the desk, in the office, in the kitchen, and all his other Plans concerning Harry Dresden.
John Marcone once stabbed a man in his soul.
With a spork. He wasn't worth one of his knives.
Michael Carpenter is big and strong and entirely human. He's also so good and nearly holy that it almost hurts to look at him sometimes. As a Knight of the Cross, he wields a blessed sword and has the amassed might of organized Christianity behind him in the service of righteousness and fighting things that go bump in the night.
He's a modern St. George, and as a dragon, I should probably be terrified of him. I'm not.
I walked into St. Mary of the Angels to find him arguing, very politely, with a teenage girl. "Go home, Molly," he said gently, laying his hand on her shoulder. "I understand that you want to help, but this is more than you're ready for yet."
Molly rolled her eyes, staring her father square in the face, which wasn't hard, since she was tall for a girl and he was leaning on a pew. "I know I can help, you know I can help, why won't you let me? I can always go home if things start to heat up. It can't hurt to have magical backup, can it?"
"That's why I'm here," I said from behind her.
She spun on me in delight, nearly hitting me in the nose with her short candy-colored pigtails. "Harry!" Molly exclaimed, grabbing me in a short hug. I looked at her father sheepishly over her shoulder, but Michael just looked amused. Molly has a bit of a crush, which is going to be a little awkward when I take her on as an apprentice one of these years. If her mother doesn't kill me first, of course.
"I knew Dad was waiting for some help, but I didn't know it was going to be you!" she said, letting go of me and allowing blessed oxygen into my lungs.
"Yeah," I said with a shrug, "It was fire and vampires, so I'd better find a suspect who isn't me. You know how it goes."
He's a modern St. George, and as a dragon, I should probably be terrified of him. I'm not.
I walked into St. Mary of the Angels to find him arguing, very politely, with a teenage girl. "Go home, Molly," he said gently, laying his hand on her shoulder. "I understand that you want to help, but this is more than you're ready for yet."
Molly rolled her eyes, staring her father square in the face, which wasn't hard, since she was tall for a girl and he was leaning on a pew. "I know I can help, you know I can help, why won't you let me? I can always go home if things start to heat up. It can't hurt to have magical backup, can it?"
"That's why I'm here," I said from behind her.
She spun on me in delight, nearly hitting me in the nose with her short candy-colored pigtails. "Harry!" Molly exclaimed, grabbing me in a short hug. I looked at her father sheepishly over her shoulder, but Michael just looked amused. Molly has a bit of a crush, which is going to be a little awkward when I take her on as an apprentice one of these years. If her mother doesn't kill me first, of course.
"I knew Dad was waiting for some help, but I didn't know it was going to be you!" she said, letting go of me and allowing blessed oxygen into my lungs.
"Yeah," I said with a shrug, "It was fire and vampires, so I'd better find a suspect who isn't me. You know how it goes."
None of my friends are into Dresden Files, so what I really need is someone to talk to about the story and bounce ideas off of in AIM or email, not really someone to do hard line by line editing work. Anyone interested?
Marcone/Dresden
John is stalking Harry. Not only that, but he's being doing it for far longer than anyone realizes. Taking over the mafia, organizing crime, running the city - all of it was to help him stalk Harry better. His first kill? The man distracted him from his Harry-stalking.
Yes, this is somewhat of a crack!prompt - heck, you can make it whatever you want - but show me a Marcone who is so ridiculously obsessed with Harry that his whole world revolves around the wizard.
John is stalking Harry. Not only that, but he's being doing it for far longer than anyone realizes. Taking over the mafia, organizing crime, running the city - all of it was to help him stalk Harry better. His first kill? The man distracted him from his Harry-stalking.
Yes, this is somewhat of a crack!prompt - heck, you can make it whatever you want - but show me a Marcone who is so ridiculously obsessed with Harry that his whole world revolves around the wizard.
John Marcone can exhaust a White Court Vampire.
With his mind, because John Marcone does not use sporks.
John Marcone invented sporks.
His back was unexpectedly beautiful. He was nothing but bones from most angles, but John could trace lean muscle from his shoulders all the way down to his hips. Harry’s hodgepodge discipline of magic and running and Aikido and staffwork and just bashing at things until they stopped moving rarely showed, at least not until it was happening to you.
It was clear right then, though. No gangly, underfed wizard in his bed, but a man who fought like an alley cat and usually won, and who had a reasonable chance of tossing John into a wall with or without magic. Oversized, disproportionate, improbable Harry Dresden.
John kissed the base of his spine, the flat plane right over his tailbone. He loved that spot on a man, always had. And you could only ever see it in this position.
Then he licked down Harry’s crack, rubbing the soft underside of his tongue all the way to his balls.
Harry yelped and levitated like he hadn’t known what was coming. John laid a forearm across the small of his back, pressing him down, steadying him.
He spread Harry open with the other hand and nuzzled into the spot just behind his balls, licking slowly. The skin was soft and tender there, untouched by sun or injury. John got it wet, breathing him in and lipping distractedly at the curve of his testicles.
Harry was saying, “oh, oh, oh,” quietly to himself. He was holding perfectly still, but a desperate tension trembled beneath his skin. John sucked gently at his balls, curious. He recalled not liking that, personally – it made his guts twist up uncomfortably, almost to the point of cramping. But Harry keened out a long, trembly breath at the touch of John’s mouth, and he didn’t sound like he wanted to curl away or kick out in defense.
John opened his mouth wide over Harry’s balls, carefully drawing them in. He licked at them, testing the give beneath the flat of his tongue. Then, on a hunch, he eased closer, relaxing the protective curl of his lips and setting his teeth into Harry’s skin. So gently, still, barely any pressure. Harry went abruptly silent; John didn’t think he was breathing. He was locked in place, not even a quiver escaping.
John held him there between his teeth for a long few ticks, breathing carefully. Then he eased his jaw, let go.
“Oh God,” Harry said explosively. A shiver seized him, traveling down his back and rocking him on his knees.
“Mmm,” John said. He spread Harry open and breathed across him where he was wet. Harry shuddered again – John could practically taste the way his nerves were screaming. Goosebumps popped up all down the insides of Harry’s legs.
John bent to do it again, delighted.
“Wait, don’t,” Harry said jaggedly.
John paused. “No?”
Harry’s breath rattled. “I don’t think I—I don’t want—“
John sat up. He was disappointed, a bit, to be denied this. An odd, unexpected desire, something he’d never done before. That had felt important, for reasons he couldn’t explain.
“No, I—“ Harry said, then quickly. “Just do it, don’t fuck around.”
John blinked. Then he bent fast enough to give himself whiplash, spread Harry’s cheeks, and pressed in. He found Harry’s hole with his tongue, tiny and clenched. He licked it fast, not teasing. Harry bucked; John leaned some weight onto an arm over his back and kept at him.
He circled tightly, then ran the flat of his tongue back and forth, back and forth. He could feel Harry opening up for him, slow, reluctant.
John came up for a quick breath, and when he went back down he flexed the muscle of his tongue and pushed it past the clench of resistance.
Harry tore away from him. John hunched there, panting; Harry was shaking in front of him, slung awkwardly forward on his knees, poised to take off.
There was a brief space of rushing breath. Then Harry slowly moved, easing into John’s hands again, back onto his mouth.
It was clear right then, though. No gangly, underfed wizard in his bed, but a man who fought like an alley cat and usually won, and who had a reasonable chance of tossing John into a wall with or without magic. Oversized, disproportionate, improbable Harry Dresden.
John kissed the base of his spine, the flat plane right over his tailbone. He loved that spot on a man, always had. And you could only ever see it in this position.
Then he licked down Harry’s crack, rubbing the soft underside of his tongue all the way to his balls.
Harry yelped and levitated like he hadn’t known what was coming. John laid a forearm across the small of his back, pressing him down, steadying him.
He spread Harry open with the other hand and nuzzled into the spot just behind his balls, licking slowly. The skin was soft and tender there, untouched by sun or injury. John got it wet, breathing him in and lipping distractedly at the curve of his testicles.
Harry was saying, “oh, oh, oh,” quietly to himself. He was holding perfectly still, but a desperate tension trembled beneath his skin. John sucked gently at his balls, curious. He recalled not liking that, personally – it made his guts twist up uncomfortably, almost to the point of cramping. But Harry keened out a long, trembly breath at the touch of John’s mouth, and he didn’t sound like he wanted to curl away or kick out in defense.
John opened his mouth wide over Harry’s balls, carefully drawing them in. He licked at them, testing the give beneath the flat of his tongue. Then, on a hunch, he eased closer, relaxing the protective curl of his lips and setting his teeth into Harry’s skin. So gently, still, barely any pressure. Harry went abruptly silent; John didn’t think he was breathing. He was locked in place, not even a quiver escaping.
John held him there between his teeth for a long few ticks, breathing carefully. Then he eased his jaw, let go.
“Oh God,” Harry said explosively. A shiver seized him, traveling down his back and rocking him on his knees.
“Mmm,” John said. He spread Harry open and breathed across him where he was wet. Harry shuddered again – John could practically taste the way his nerves were screaming. Goosebumps popped up all down the insides of Harry’s legs.
John bent to do it again, delighted.
“Wait, don’t,” Harry said jaggedly.
John paused. “No?”
Harry’s breath rattled. “I don’t think I—I don’t want—“
John sat up. He was disappointed, a bit, to be denied this. An odd, unexpected desire, something he’d never done before. That had felt important, for reasons he couldn’t explain.
“No, I—“ Harry said, then quickly. “Just do it, don’t fuck around.”
John blinked. Then he bent fast enough to give himself whiplash, spread Harry’s cheeks, and pressed in. He found Harry’s hole with his tongue, tiny and clenched. He licked it fast, not teasing. Harry bucked; John leaned some weight onto an arm over his back and kept at him.
He circled tightly, then ran the flat of his tongue back and forth, back and forth. He could feel Harry opening up for him, slow, reluctant.
John came up for a quick breath, and when he went back down he flexed the muscle of his tongue and pushed it past the clench of resistance.
Harry tore away from him. John hunched there, panting; Harry was shaking in front of him, slung awkwardly forward on his knees, poised to take off.
There was a brief space of rushing breath. Then Harry slowly moved, easing into John’s hands again, back onto his mouth.
Re: oh why the fuck not, let's be neat about things
(Anonymous) 2011-03-10 03:49 am (UTC)(link)Hey, Justin, how do you like them apples?
And I apologize for NOTHING!
And I apologize for NOTHING!
Re: oh why the fuck not, let's be neat about things
luciazephyr
2011-03-10 03:51 am (UTC)(link)
You got the reference! You are a gentleman and a scholar!
Makes me want an AU where Justin lived. Just so Marcone can find out what he did and kill the shit outta him.
Makes me want an AU where Justin lived. Just so Marcone can find out what he did and kill the shit outta him.
Re: oh why the fuck not, let's be neat about things
(Anonymous) 2011-03-10 03:52 am (UTC)(link)Please? Please? Maybe just a small one? :bats eyelashes:
Haha Marcone- having to deal with no electricity, cell phones, multiple attempts on his life, family issues, etc.
and Harry having to pretend to be a mob boss
and Harry having to pretend to be a mob boss
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