![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
OP: ... Maybe it's All A Dream and Harry's sleeping and all these different fusions and crossovers going on in his pop culture-soaked head?
1 Week Since Escape
“Sergeant Murphy called again.” James' voice was low in deference to Harry's sleeping form on the low couch in front of the French doors. He liked to sleep in the light. I found that I enjoyed watching him sleep in the sun as it painted his pale skin brilliant colors, the light fracturing on the snow, through the glass and highlighting each imperfection. Every faint scar, every dip and line. I had them all mapped out at this point.
“She is nothing if not persistent.” I set my coffee down and sighed. “I'll speak to him when he wakes.”
“She's threatening to get one of Dresden's friends to say that we kidnapped Dresden. That we're holding him against his will.”
“I'll speak to him. Thank you.” James grunted. It was his 'I don't think you're taking this as seriously as I think you should be' grunt. The man was positively a genius at packing meaning into the smallest sound or movement. I nodded once at him and he left.
“Murphy wants to see me?” Harry had rolled, his back to the doors now. It was his eyes, dark and steady. Not Lasciel, then.
“She has been asking, yes. I thought it might be best to wait until you were feeling stronger.” He smiled, wry.
“I think you mean feeling a little less psychotic, don't you?” I rose and went to him. He remained curled on his side. His skin was hot to the touch, but no more so than had become normal for him. Lasciel hadn't spoken to me since that first evening, but I assumed that the lack of an active fever meant the physical healing was finished.
“I would never use the term psychotic, Harry.” He caught my hand, pressed his thumbs into my palm, kneading. “Do you want to see her? It's your decision.”
“No.” Harry sat up, then stood, his long body brushing against mine. “Maybe. They-” I caught him, a brush of skin against his lips, as soon as I felt the tension sing up his body. “I want to know what happened.”
“I can tell you what Ms. Gard and Mr. Hendricks have told me.” His head jerked down, then up once. Sharp. Reluctant. I sat down on the couch, drawing him back down with me. “After the attempt to abduct the Archive from the aquarium, you vanished. By the time Murphy and the Knights could get in Nicodemus” His hand clenched on mine, hard enough to bruise, “was gone and you along with him. The other Denarians, those who had been actively hunting the Archive and a Mr. Kincaid were either already dead or fled as soon as the trap collapsed.
“A Captain Luccio?” He nodded. “Attempted to track you, but had no luck. Perhaps twenty-four hours after your abduction the Archive received your notes. Her guard had already removed her from the city, but she called Ms. Gard and gave her your message.” Harry smiled.
“She's a good kid, Ivy.” She was, by all accounts, also a terrifying force. I was doubly pleased that the Denarians' plans for her had failed.
“By the time my people figured out enough to locate the island we were being held on, we had been moved. They continued to attempt to track us, though they were unsuccessful.” Harry looked away. “Four days later we emerged from a Way onto my property.” He jerked, shocked.
“Four days?!” Harry turned to me, his deep brown eyes beginning to glow. Not the golden brown of Lasciel's eyes, but a brilliant emerald green around the edges. “I don't remember. I don't remember four days.” His skin heated up, sweat slicked our hands where they touched.
“It was. You were out of it a great deal of the time, Harry. After everything. And then the collar. It's not unexpected.” The heat came off of him in waves, his eyes now solidly glowing green. I took a deep breath and willed myself to remain calm.
He jerked his hand out of mine and stood, stalking over to the other side of the room. The air rushed in behind him, appreciably cooler.
“Show me.”
“Pardon?” Harry whirled around, his eyes so bright they left brief afterimages in my vision.
“I need you to- to show me what I don't remember.” I was shaking my head almost before what he meant came to me.
“No. Harry, I will do many things for you.” I laughed, mirthless. “Ask me to kill someone for you. I would do it in a heartbeat. But I won't recreate that.”
“You have to.” His voice changed, a rolling rumble, like lava chewing up the landscape. “I want someone dead, I can do that for myself. This is something only you can give me. And you will.” Air shifted, something beat against the air, wind rushing hot past me. I kept my seat and met his eyes.
“No, Harry. No.” A mirror on the wall shattered, the bright shards' paths bending around Harry as though he had his shield up.
“Yes.”
“Do you intend to force me?” The memory of the afternoon after our escape was still fresh. Harry on his knees for me, swallowing me down even as his power, his will held me down. He'd let me go, but I had no illusions that I'd fought him off. He'd released me for reasons of his own.
Harry flinched, the light in his eyes wavering and then fading out. He went pale and looked away.
“No. No.”
“Then my answer remains. I will not recreate your rape, Harry.”
~
The tree bark was rough beneath my hands, a leafy branch rested in the middle of my back, the perfect hight to brace myself against.
“The worst part, if anyone asked me, I think the worst part of it all is that you're all so cruel.” Lasciel kicked her feet out beside me, high-laced black boots swinging in the air. Her dress was long, heavy green cloth, the bodice laced up tight with a heavy dark shawl wrapped around her shoulders and pinned with a plain broach. A thin tendril of her long brown hair escaped from beneath the opaque white cap she wore.
People in the clearing below us milled, shouting at one another. Someone mounted a low tree stump and started to yell at the crowd, pounding his fist into his hand.
“And you guys are such kind, loving creatures, right?” She patted my arm.
“Our cruelty is only in response to yours, to what you've done with the world our Creator gave you.” She waved her hand down at the crowd. “It takes so little to drive you to violence. Anyone who is the least bit different is suspect and at the slightest downturn in fortune they can freely be turned upon.”
A woman was dragged through the crowd, her dress torn, bloodied. She had a wild look in her eyes.
“People suck. I don't deny it.”
“I know. I appreciate that honesty in you. Humans.” Her pretty voice turned sad. “He gave up so much for you. Tore heaven in two, betrayed his first born. And what do you give him in return? Blood and terror. Death.” She laughed. “Not that he doesn't appreciate a little blood and death. Just look at what he had his loyal angels do to humans who disobeyed! But he tends to want it, just like everything else, on his own terms. But it's not your fault, not really.”
“What's your point?”
The woman below us screamed as she was lifted onto the back of a horse, her head guided into a waiting noose.
“Look at everything he gave you! All these shiny jewels. And then he left infants running free with no guidance. With no leadership.”
A sharp slap to the horses' rear end and it took off. Her last scream cut off, the rope crackling against the tree branch it was looped over. The lack of a drop meant her neck didn't break. I twisted on the branch so I didn't have to watch.
“All of this.” Lasciel whispered, curled close against my body. The birdsong just seemed to frame the desperate rustle of cloth from below, the scream of leather boots against each other and the thin gasps that choked off fairly quickly. “Is his fault. Because he favored you and then he abandoned you.”
Laughter rolled up from beneath us.
“Can we go somewhere else? Please?”
And we were just in Marcone's bedroom. No wavering light, no nothing.
“Would you prefer to talk about something else?” Lasciel lounged against a mound of pillows at the head of the bed. “Perhaps you'd like to discuss this mad request you've made of our Baron?” She raised her knees, the skirt of her long nightgown riding down her thighs to puddle around her hips.
“I need to know.”
“No, you don't. What difference will it make?”
I dropped down to sit on the foot of the bed.
“None. I don't know why, but I just- I need to know what happened.” I felt the bed shift and Lasciel wrapped her arms around my shoulders, leaning against my back. She was a warm, comfortable weight against me. “I can't remember. Can you?” She sighed against me.
“I'm sorry, but no. The memories never formed, so I can't access them. They just don't exist.” She slid around my side until she was half in my lap. “This really bothers you, doesn't it?”
“Yes.” And I didn't know why. But now that I knew I was missing nearly a week...it was eating at me.
“I could speak to our Baron for you.” Her hand ran through my hair and I leaned into it.
“I don't want to hurt him. I won't force him.” She smiled.
“Scouts honor.” Lasciel gave me the Boy Scouts' salute. “Just talk. I can be very persuasive.”
“No violence.”
“Touching would be cheating.” She leaned up to plant a gentle kiss on the corner of my mouth. “Go to sleep. I'll handle everything.”
~
Harry was waiting for me on my bathroom counter when I got out of the shower, long legs curled up beneath him, slender, coiled grace. His eyes glowed brilliant amber and I wrapped a towel tightly around my waist.
“If you give him what he wants, I will break you.” Harry's face had no expression on it.
“I have absolutely no intention of giving in to him.”
“Of course you don't. But if you don't, he'll tear himself apart trying to remember.” Lasciel sighed and stretched out one long leg, scratching blunt nails against the fabric of the jeans Harry was wearing. “So we must do something.”
“I assume you've come with a suggestion?” I turned away from Harry's body and began towel drying my hair. The stitches in my ear were tender, but clearly healing well.
“Give him something that looks like what he wants. He has no way of knowing the difference.” Lasciel brushed Harry's fingers along an old scar on my arm. “It will content him.”
“Why can't you help him retrieve his memories?” Lasciel rolled Harry's eyes.
“Because they don't exist any longer. I burned them out of him!”
“I see.”
“He might not have recovered, with his full memory. So I...edited the content. He's no good to me broken.”
“I-”
“Will do what is best for Harry. We both know it. So think it through, and then help me keep him in one piece.”
~
“I'll make you a deal.” I looked up from my omelette. Marcone was dipping a piece of toast in the yolk of his eggs.
“What deal?”
“Speak to Sergeant Murphy.” He took a swallow of his orange juice. “And I will do to you only what I did before.”
“But what about-”
“No. Only what I did. That's bad enough.” I tapped my fork against the china. It will be enough, Harry.
“Everything. Everything we did.”
“Yes.”
“Call Murph.”
~
“Harry.” Murphy looked tired, deep circles under her eyes and too pale. Even her curls seemed limp. I felt a pang of guilt. She'd been worrying about me for almost two weeks. I glanced at Hendricks behind her and nodded. He backed out and closed the door behind him.
“Hiya Murph.” I did my best to smile at her, but it felt strained and by the look in her eyes I knew she could see the effort it took. She came across the room to me, until she was close enough to touch.
“How-” She stopped and shook her head. “Are you okay?”
“Just great.” I laughed. “Aside from the whole kidnapped and tortured by a demon possessed psycho, I've been awesome. And what've you been up to?” Murphy flinched and I clamped my mouth shut, grinding my teeth together.
“We were looking for you Harry!” She reached for my arm and I let her rest her hand against my wrist. “Luccio and I were working with Gard. There just- there wasn't any trail.” Her hand shifted, moved to wrap around my wrist and I jerked back, breaking her loose hold.
“Where are Mouse and Mister?”
“I have them. They're good, but Mouse misses you Harry.” She turned away from me, looking out the windows. “Are you- can you come home with me?”
“No.” She frowned, her face falling into familiar stubborn lines and turned back to face me.
“Is Marcone keeping you here? You don't have to stay, Harry. You don't owe him anything.” Lasciel laughed and I felt it bubble out of me. Murphy took a step back and I had to wonder if my eyes had started to glow again.
“Marcone couldn't keep me from doing anything I wanted to do.” My skin itched and I shifted my shoulders, trying to relieve the dull pressure that had started to grow there. “Michael?”
“Michael and Sanya were waiting for us to find something. I swear, we didn't abandon you Harry. We just couldn't find you fast enough.” I shook my head and moved away from her. The itching was getting worse.
“You need to leave, Murph.” My muscles were starting to twitch. I heard her shoes scuff against the tile.
“Harry-” I shifted my shoulders again, flexing the muscles and I felt something flow out of me, a low wave of heat. It rolled through the room and over Murphy, made her gasp. “If you don't believe me, ask Gard. She'll tell you. I'll leave, if that's what you want. But you can't stay here forever, Harry. When you're ready to stop hiding, you know how to find me.” I listened to her leave.
About ten minutes later the door opened again. I waited until the lock clicked and then turned around to face Marcone. My skin was still alive with little ticks of fire, the skin of my back tight, but I ignored it. It was time.
“Sergeant Murphy called again.” James' voice was low in deference to Harry's sleeping form on the low couch in front of the French doors. He liked to sleep in the light. I found that I enjoyed watching him sleep in the sun as it painted his pale skin brilliant colors, the light fracturing on the snow, through the glass and highlighting each imperfection. Every faint scar, every dip and line. I had them all mapped out at this point.
“She is nothing if not persistent.” I set my coffee down and sighed. “I'll speak to him when he wakes.”
“She's threatening to get one of Dresden's friends to say that we kidnapped Dresden. That we're holding him against his will.”
“I'll speak to him. Thank you.” James grunted. It was his 'I don't think you're taking this as seriously as I think you should be' grunt. The man was positively a genius at packing meaning into the smallest sound or movement. I nodded once at him and he left.
“Murphy wants to see me?” Harry had rolled, his back to the doors now. It was his eyes, dark and steady. Not Lasciel, then.
“She has been asking, yes. I thought it might be best to wait until you were feeling stronger.” He smiled, wry.
“I think you mean feeling a little less psychotic, don't you?” I rose and went to him. He remained curled on his side. His skin was hot to the touch, but no more so than had become normal for him. Lasciel hadn't spoken to me since that first evening, but I assumed that the lack of an active fever meant the physical healing was finished.
“I would never use the term psychotic, Harry.” He caught my hand, pressed his thumbs into my palm, kneading. “Do you want to see her? It's your decision.”
“No.” Harry sat up, then stood, his long body brushing against mine. “Maybe. They-” I caught him, a brush of skin against his lips, as soon as I felt the tension sing up his body. “I want to know what happened.”
“I can tell you what Ms. Gard and Mr. Hendricks have told me.” His head jerked down, then up once. Sharp. Reluctant. I sat down on the couch, drawing him back down with me. “After the attempt to abduct the Archive from the aquarium, you vanished. By the time Murphy and the Knights could get in Nicodemus” His hand clenched on mine, hard enough to bruise, “was gone and you along with him. The other Denarians, those who had been actively hunting the Archive and a Mr. Kincaid were either already dead or fled as soon as the trap collapsed.
“A Captain Luccio?” He nodded. “Attempted to track you, but had no luck. Perhaps twenty-four hours after your abduction the Archive received your notes. Her guard had already removed her from the city, but she called Ms. Gard and gave her your message.” Harry smiled.
“She's a good kid, Ivy.” She was, by all accounts, also a terrifying force. I was doubly pleased that the Denarians' plans for her had failed.
“By the time my people figured out enough to locate the island we were being held on, we had been moved. They continued to attempt to track us, though they were unsuccessful.” Harry looked away. “Four days later we emerged from a Way onto my property.” He jerked, shocked.
“Four days?!” Harry turned to me, his deep brown eyes beginning to glow. Not the golden brown of Lasciel's eyes, but a brilliant emerald green around the edges. “I don't remember. I don't remember four days.” His skin heated up, sweat slicked our hands where they touched.
“It was. You were out of it a great deal of the time, Harry. After everything. And then the collar. It's not unexpected.” The heat came off of him in waves, his eyes now solidly glowing green. I took a deep breath and willed myself to remain calm.
He jerked his hand out of mine and stood, stalking over to the other side of the room. The air rushed in behind him, appreciably cooler.
“Show me.”
“Pardon?” Harry whirled around, his eyes so bright they left brief afterimages in my vision.
“I need you to- to show me what I don't remember.” I was shaking my head almost before what he meant came to me.
“No. Harry, I will do many things for you.” I laughed, mirthless. “Ask me to kill someone for you. I would do it in a heartbeat. But I won't recreate that.”
“You have to.” His voice changed, a rolling rumble, like lava chewing up the landscape. “I want someone dead, I can do that for myself. This is something only you can give me. And you will.” Air shifted, something beat against the air, wind rushing hot past me. I kept my seat and met his eyes.
“No, Harry. No.” A mirror on the wall shattered, the bright shards' paths bending around Harry as though he had his shield up.
“Yes.”
“Do you intend to force me?” The memory of the afternoon after our escape was still fresh. Harry on his knees for me, swallowing me down even as his power, his will held me down. He'd let me go, but I had no illusions that I'd fought him off. He'd released me for reasons of his own.
Harry flinched, the light in his eyes wavering and then fading out. He went pale and looked away.
“No. No.”
“Then my answer remains. I will not recreate your rape, Harry.”
~
The tree bark was rough beneath my hands, a leafy branch rested in the middle of my back, the perfect hight to brace myself against.
“The worst part, if anyone asked me, I think the worst part of it all is that you're all so cruel.” Lasciel kicked her feet out beside me, high-laced black boots swinging in the air. Her dress was long, heavy green cloth, the bodice laced up tight with a heavy dark shawl wrapped around her shoulders and pinned with a plain broach. A thin tendril of her long brown hair escaped from beneath the opaque white cap she wore.
People in the clearing below us milled, shouting at one another. Someone mounted a low tree stump and started to yell at the crowd, pounding his fist into his hand.
“And you guys are such kind, loving creatures, right?” She patted my arm.
“Our cruelty is only in response to yours, to what you've done with the world our Creator gave you.” She waved her hand down at the crowd. “It takes so little to drive you to violence. Anyone who is the least bit different is suspect and at the slightest downturn in fortune they can freely be turned upon.”
A woman was dragged through the crowd, her dress torn, bloodied. She had a wild look in her eyes.
“People suck. I don't deny it.”
“I know. I appreciate that honesty in you. Humans.” Her pretty voice turned sad. “He gave up so much for you. Tore heaven in two, betrayed his first born. And what do you give him in return? Blood and terror. Death.” She laughed. “Not that he doesn't appreciate a little blood and death. Just look at what he had his loyal angels do to humans who disobeyed! But he tends to want it, just like everything else, on his own terms. But it's not your fault, not really.”
“What's your point?”
The woman below us screamed as she was lifted onto the back of a horse, her head guided into a waiting noose.
“Look at everything he gave you! All these shiny jewels. And then he left infants running free with no guidance. With no leadership.”
A sharp slap to the horses' rear end and it took off. Her last scream cut off, the rope crackling against the tree branch it was looped over. The lack of a drop meant her neck didn't break. I twisted on the branch so I didn't have to watch.
“All of this.” Lasciel whispered, curled close against my body. The birdsong just seemed to frame the desperate rustle of cloth from below, the scream of leather boots against each other and the thin gasps that choked off fairly quickly. “Is his fault. Because he favored you and then he abandoned you.”
Laughter rolled up from beneath us.
“Can we go somewhere else? Please?”
And we were just in Marcone's bedroom. No wavering light, no nothing.
“Would you prefer to talk about something else?” Lasciel lounged against a mound of pillows at the head of the bed. “Perhaps you'd like to discuss this mad request you've made of our Baron?” She raised her knees, the skirt of her long nightgown riding down her thighs to puddle around her hips.
“I need to know.”
“No, you don't. What difference will it make?”
I dropped down to sit on the foot of the bed.
“None. I don't know why, but I just- I need to know what happened.” I felt the bed shift and Lasciel wrapped her arms around my shoulders, leaning against my back. She was a warm, comfortable weight against me. “I can't remember. Can you?” She sighed against me.
“I'm sorry, but no. The memories never formed, so I can't access them. They just don't exist.” She slid around my side until she was half in my lap. “This really bothers you, doesn't it?”
“Yes.” And I didn't know why. But now that I knew I was missing nearly a week...it was eating at me.
“I could speak to our Baron for you.” Her hand ran through my hair and I leaned into it.
“I don't want to hurt him. I won't force him.” She smiled.
“Scouts honor.” Lasciel gave me the Boy Scouts' salute. “Just talk. I can be very persuasive.”
“No violence.”
“Touching would be cheating.” She leaned up to plant a gentle kiss on the corner of my mouth. “Go to sleep. I'll handle everything.”
~
Harry was waiting for me on my bathroom counter when I got out of the shower, long legs curled up beneath him, slender, coiled grace. His eyes glowed brilliant amber and I wrapped a towel tightly around my waist.
“If you give him what he wants, I will break you.” Harry's face had no expression on it.
“I have absolutely no intention of giving in to him.”
“Of course you don't. But if you don't, he'll tear himself apart trying to remember.” Lasciel sighed and stretched out one long leg, scratching blunt nails against the fabric of the jeans Harry was wearing. “So we must do something.”
“I assume you've come with a suggestion?” I turned away from Harry's body and began towel drying my hair. The stitches in my ear were tender, but clearly healing well.
“Give him something that looks like what he wants. He has no way of knowing the difference.” Lasciel brushed Harry's fingers along an old scar on my arm. “It will content him.”
“Why can't you help him retrieve his memories?” Lasciel rolled Harry's eyes.
“Because they don't exist any longer. I burned them out of him!”
“I see.”
“He might not have recovered, with his full memory. So I...edited the content. He's no good to me broken.”
“I-”
“Will do what is best for Harry. We both know it. So think it through, and then help me keep him in one piece.”
~
“I'll make you a deal.” I looked up from my omelette. Marcone was dipping a piece of toast in the yolk of his eggs.
“What deal?”
“Speak to Sergeant Murphy.” He took a swallow of his orange juice. “And I will do to you only what I did before.”
“But what about-”
“No. Only what I did. That's bad enough.” I tapped my fork against the china. It will be enough, Harry.
“Everything. Everything we did.”
“Yes.”
“Call Murph.”
~
“Harry.” Murphy looked tired, deep circles under her eyes and too pale. Even her curls seemed limp. I felt a pang of guilt. She'd been worrying about me for almost two weeks. I glanced at Hendricks behind her and nodded. He backed out and closed the door behind him.
“Hiya Murph.” I did my best to smile at her, but it felt strained and by the look in her eyes I knew she could see the effort it took. She came across the room to me, until she was close enough to touch.
“How-” She stopped and shook her head. “Are you okay?”
“Just great.” I laughed. “Aside from the whole kidnapped and tortured by a demon possessed psycho, I've been awesome. And what've you been up to?” Murphy flinched and I clamped my mouth shut, grinding my teeth together.
“We were looking for you Harry!” She reached for my arm and I let her rest her hand against my wrist. “Luccio and I were working with Gard. There just- there wasn't any trail.” Her hand shifted, moved to wrap around my wrist and I jerked back, breaking her loose hold.
“Where are Mouse and Mister?”
“I have them. They're good, but Mouse misses you Harry.” She turned away from me, looking out the windows. “Are you- can you come home with me?”
“No.” She frowned, her face falling into familiar stubborn lines and turned back to face me.
“Is Marcone keeping you here? You don't have to stay, Harry. You don't owe him anything.” Lasciel laughed and I felt it bubble out of me. Murphy took a step back and I had to wonder if my eyes had started to glow again.
“Marcone couldn't keep me from doing anything I wanted to do.” My skin itched and I shifted my shoulders, trying to relieve the dull pressure that had started to grow there. “Michael?”
“Michael and Sanya were waiting for us to find something. I swear, we didn't abandon you Harry. We just couldn't find you fast enough.” I shook my head and moved away from her. The itching was getting worse.
“You need to leave, Murph.” My muscles were starting to twitch. I heard her shoes scuff against the tile.
“Harry-” I shifted my shoulders again, flexing the muscles and I felt something flow out of me, a low wave of heat. It rolled through the room and over Murphy, made her gasp. “If you don't believe me, ask Gard. She'll tell you. I'll leave, if that's what you want. But you can't stay here forever, Harry. When you're ready to stop hiding, you know how to find me.” I listened to her leave.
About ten minutes later the door opened again. I waited until the lock clicked and then turned around to face Marcone. My skin was still alive with little ticks of fire, the skin of my back tight, but I ignored it. It was time.
My theory? Harry's view of himself and his magic is heavily influenced by the attitude of every single wizard he met after killing Justin and thinking he killed Elaine. He's got the guilt and pain from having killed what he refers to as the only 'real family' he's ever known (he says that once or twice in the books) and then he gets told that everything he ever learned, everything he thought was important and true was wrong and that he was wrong for having done or believed in it.
I seriously doubt anyone, even Eb, ever told Harry that it wasn't his fault he had to kill Justin. They just told him to never, ever do it again.
Even knowing now that Elaine is alive, he looks at her and sees the trauma scars she's got and feels guilty for not saving her sooner.
So, yeah. Basically, everyone in the DF needs therapy, and the only people who should be allowed to raise children appear to be the Carpenters. :)
I seriously doubt anyone, even Eb, ever told Harry that it wasn't his fault he had to kill Justin. They just told him to never, ever do it again.
Even knowing now that Elaine is alive, he looks at her and sees the trauma scars she's got and feels guilty for not saving her sooner.
So, yeah. Basically, everyone in the DF needs therapy, and the only people who should be allowed to raise children appear to be the Carpenters. :)
:D
I imagine little Harry was quite the adorable con man. So cute. Who could resist?
I imagine little Harry was quite the adorable con man. So cute. Who could resist?
Thank you!
This one just sort of popped up and wouldn't leave me alone. I'm pleased with how it turned out.
This one just sort of popped up and wouldn't leave me alone. I'm pleased with how it turned out.
Part of this fic (http://scribe-protra.dreamwidth.org/306.html?thread=375346#cmt375346) won't get out of my head:
"You should have come to me... Instead of that Faerie Queen. ... You should have been mine"
AU where Harry sells himself to Marcone instead of Mab. I want to see what happens when the immediate crisis situations in Changes are resolved: Harry and Maggie are both healthy and safe from the Red Court, which may or may not have been exterminated. Harry belongs to Marcone now - what happens and how does he deal with it? Hoping for both serious exploration of the issues and smut.
"You should have come to me... Instead of that Faerie Queen. ... You should have been mine"
AU where Harry sells himself to Marcone instead of Mab. I want to see what happens when the immediate crisis situations in Changes are resolved: Harry and Maggie are both healthy and safe from the Red Court, which may or may not have been exterminated. Harry belongs to Marcone now - what happens and how does he deal with it? Hoping for both serious exploration of the issues and smut.
*Sniff*
I don't know why, but I feel like giving a huge hug to Harry. And another one to Lasciel and Marcone for trying to help Harry.
Is Harry's desire to know based on previous tramas that he couldn't/wouldn't remember? Does he think that he could move on from them by facing it head on?
Hmm... The part where Lash and Harry's taking to each other, is that the past? Or is Lash just showing Harry the cruelty of humans? Is she trying to do her part as the Tempter or is she making a point?
Can't wait for the next part! :D
I don't know why, but I feel like giving a huge hug to Harry. And another one to Lasciel and Marcone for trying to help Harry.
Is Harry's desire to know based on previous tramas that he couldn't/wouldn't remember? Does he think that he could move on from them by facing it head on?
Hmm... The part where Lash and Harry's taking to each other, is that the past? Or is Lash just showing Harry the cruelty of humans? Is she trying to do her part as the Tempter or is she making a point?
Can't wait for the next part! :D
:D Thanks!
[Error: Irreparable invalid markup ('<ii [...] john's>') in entry. Owner must fix manually. Raw contents below.]
:D Thanks!
<iI can see Harry really doing this to help John's cold at first, then continuing because.... he's a wizard. He loves someone and knows that without something like this, he'll outlive them. It's... Yeah. :gestures:</i>
This. This is all what I was thinking, so yes.
<small>The porny part of your brain may appreciate this sex scene that didn't make it into the fic, then. It was originally going to end with them having sex, because, well, hell. Blood and sex are good. But then I liked the ending better without the sex. Freaky, I know.</small>
I pinned his wrists, nails digging into the soft skin, cutting into him as I slammed forward, burying myself in him again.
He gasped, his head falling forward, baring the back his neck to me. It was a beautiful sight, all his power, all his strength and he gave me his throat. I pulled on his arms, bent him deeper, until he was resting on his shoulders, rocked helplessly beneath me.
"J-john..." My name, breathless on his lips and I stabbed up into him, altering our angle. I watched his even, white teeth dig into his lower lip, smelled it before I saw it, the single drop of red that fell, a nearly perfect circle on the sheet beneath his head.
The sight, the smell, copper and smoke, shot through me and I had to fight myself not to come right there. I tightened my grip on his arms, slowed down until each thrust into him was as slow and as deep as if it was the first time. A second drop joined the first, and he was struggling beneath me, trying to force himself back onto me at a faster pace.
I twisted his arms up behind his back and pulled out.
He cursed, tiny drops of blood flying with each word, until I flipped him onto his back and drove back in, choking the last insult out of him through force alone.
Blood welled fresh and bright on his lip, smeared on one cheek, his chin. I pressed him down into the mattress and leaned down, licked at the faint remnants of blood on his skin. Harry whined, his legs coming up around my hips, holding me inside of him, reducing me to short, sharp jerks.
His lip was soft, slippery beneath mine, and he whined, his cock trapped between us, slick and throbbing as I sucked the wounded flesh into my mouth, my tongue finding the small tear and lingering. I probed it, drawing fresh blood.
I wanted more. More of him inside of me as I filled him.
I bit him, widening the wound. As the scent hit me, the taste, fire directly into my veins, all of him inside me, I thrust once, twice, and then I came, emptied myself into him.
The heat between us bloomed, flowed as he thrust between us, coating our stomachs and sealing us together.
Our eyes met, mouths stained with his blood and I licked my lips, my teeth. His eyes widened, and then he smiled, nodded. Harry slid his knees along my sides, drew me to him when I would have pulled away. His hands grasped the back of my head and then we were kissing, the sweet taste of his blood filling our mouths.
<iI can see Harry really doing this to help John's cold at first, then continuing because.... he's a wizard. He loves someone and knows that without something like this, he'll outlive them. It's... Yeah. :gestures:</i>
This. This is all what I was thinking, so yes.
<small>The porny part of your brain may appreciate this sex scene that didn't make it into the fic, then. It was originally going to end with them having sex, because, well, hell. Blood and sex are good. But then I liked the ending better without the sex. Freaky, I know.</small>
I pinned his wrists, nails digging into the soft skin, cutting into him as I slammed forward, burying myself in him again.
He gasped, his head falling forward, baring the back his neck to me. It was a beautiful sight, all his power, all his strength and he gave me his throat. I pulled on his arms, bent him deeper, until he was resting on his shoulders, rocked helplessly beneath me.
"J-john..." My name, breathless on his lips and I stabbed up into him, altering our angle. I watched his even, white teeth dig into his lower lip, smelled it before I saw it, the single drop of red that fell, a nearly perfect circle on the sheet beneath his head.
The sight, the smell, copper and smoke, shot through me and I had to fight myself not to come right there. I tightened my grip on his arms, slowed down until each thrust into him was as slow and as deep as if it was the first time. A second drop joined the first, and he was struggling beneath me, trying to force himself back onto me at a faster pace.
I twisted his arms up behind his back and pulled out.
He cursed, tiny drops of blood flying with each word, until I flipped him onto his back and drove back in, choking the last insult out of him through force alone.
Blood welled fresh and bright on his lip, smeared on one cheek, his chin. I pressed him down into the mattress and leaned down, licked at the faint remnants of blood on his skin. Harry whined, his legs coming up around my hips, holding me inside of him, reducing me to short, sharp jerks.
His lip was soft, slippery beneath mine, and he whined, his cock trapped between us, slick and throbbing as I sucked the wounded flesh into my mouth, my tongue finding the small tear and lingering. I probed it, drawing fresh blood.
I wanted more. More of him inside of me as I filled him.
I bit him, widening the wound. As the scent hit me, the taste, fire directly into my veins, all of him inside me, I thrust once, twice, and then I came, emptied myself into him.
The heat between us bloomed, flowed as he thrust between us, coating our stomachs and sealing us together.
Our eyes met, mouths stained with his blood and I licked my lips, my teeth. His eyes widened, and then he smiled, nodded. Harry slid his knees along my sides, drew me to him when I would have pulled away. His hands grasped the back of my head and then we were kissing, the sweet taste of his blood filling our mouths.
Harry and Marcone have complimentary issues, so for them, this is sweet!
Marcone has no idea what you're talking about. Those planters are just an accident of architecture. Really. At any rate, you can't prove any different. :D
Marcone has no idea what you're talking about. Those planters are just an accident of architecture. Really. At any rate, you can't prove any different. :D
I'm pleased you enjoyed it in spite of it not being your kink!
Thank you! :D
Thank you! :D
Mac/Dresden Everyone/Dresden
In which, everyone loses against Mac and Harry's none the wiser.
In which, everyone loses against Mac and Harry's none the wiser.
Anyone/Female!Dresden
In order to try to boost Harry's confidence in herself, someone buys her sexy lingerie. Harry's embaressed, but eventually, one day, she tries it on and is confused by the new sensations.
Of course, the day she happens to try it on is the day when she's forced to remove her clothes in front of someone (fire, dirt, acid, etc.).
Bonus: Could be anyone or more, but OP would like to see Hendricks reaction. Maybe Gard invites her?
In order to try to boost Harry's confidence in herself, someone buys her sexy lingerie. Harry's embaressed, but eventually, one day, she tries it on and is confused by the new sensations.
Of course, the day she happens to try it on is the day when she's forced to remove her clothes in front of someone (fire, dirt, acid, etc.).
Bonus: Could be anyone or more, but OP would like to see Hendricks reaction. Maybe Gard invites her?
humina humina... yes, lovely authoranon, that was about what I was thinking of.
:adds bloodkink to the list of shiny new kinks this fandom has provided:
:adds bloodkink to the list of shiny new kinks this fandom has provided:
Editor!Marcone/Writer!Dresden Bonus: Donar/Dresden Marcone/Dresden/Donar
Harry Dresden is a simple man with a horrifying past, who just wants to be able to write books for children. He has amazing talent, but is rough and unpolished. People either dismiss him or see him for his talents, but want to use him.
Marcone is a terribly efficient editor who is a perfectionalist, but is hard to work with although many try to hire him.
He usually helps his friend, Hendricks, with philosophy, documents, and stories that focus on society.
At first, he dismisses Harry as childish if intriguing, but when he reads Harry's rough drafts by accident, he finds them to be inspiring and something that will continue to be in the hearts of children till adulthood.
Bonus: Donar is Harry's caretaker after the DuMorne affair and Harry has a crush on him. :D
Harry Dresden is a simple man with a horrifying past, who just wants to be able to write books for children. He has amazing talent, but is rough and unpolished. People either dismiss him or see him for his talents, but want to use him.
Marcone is a terribly efficient editor who is a perfectionalist, but is hard to work with although many try to hire him.
He usually helps his friend, Hendricks, with philosophy, documents, and stories that focus on society.
At first, he dismisses Harry as childish if intriguing, but when he reads Harry's rough drafts by accident, he finds them to be inspiring and something that will continue to be in the hearts of children till adulthood.
Bonus: Donar is Harry's caretaker after the DuMorne affair and Harry has a crush on him. :D
Holy...! I just realized who you are... I'm pretty sure I noticed some of your work at Hot Yakuza/Sulky Minion Banter (?) but didn't have a lj...
"Missouri by a guy who essentially told him masturbating was evil" oh my god, Eb, this is great XD. Why don't you just tack a sign on Harry saying "molest me"?
"Missouri by a guy who essentially told him masturbating was evil" oh my god, Eb, this is great XD. Why don't you just tack a sign on Harry saying "molest me"?
Donar/Dresden Everyone/Dresden
I which Harry is completely streamrolled by his boyfriend. He might be bitching about it, but everyone can tell that he's really pleased with all the romantic gifts given to him. Cause he's a sap and a romantic at heart.
Everyone notices how happy Harry is.
Bonus: If writer wants, they can turn this into a threesome, foursome, whatever.
I which Harry is completely streamrolled by his boyfriend. He might be bitching about it, but everyone can tell that he's really pleased with all the romantic gifts given to him. Cause he's a sap and a romantic at heart.
Everyone notices how happy Harry is.
Bonus: If writer wants, they can turn this into a threesome, foursome, whatever.
"Here."
It wasn't often, I thought, that I got to see Marcone so shocked. His eyebrows actually moved. I guess that was the fucking upside to all this, that messing with him still sparked something in the cold white patches of emptiness that twisted and throbbed in my soul like the dull pulsing of a heart. My heart. The only thing I'd told Mab she couldn't buy.
"Mr. Dresden," said Marcone, after a loaded pause. "I must confess, I'm not entirely sure what you want me to do with this."
"Take it," I snarled, and I really, really hoped he would leave it at that. I jabbed my hand at him, the silver chain of my shield bracelet curling against my fingers, ice against ice.
"I have been reliably informed by Ms. Gard," he said, "that your shield bracelet contains enough protective magic to stop a speeding truck." He leaned forward, interested in spite of himself. Hendricks shifted from foot to foot, glancing at me like I was going to explode or set the rug on fire or rip a gate to the Nevernever open in the middle of Marcone's swanky office or something (...okay, to be fair, I was about to do that last one, which is why Marcone needed to stop screwing around and take the damn bracelet). "I fail to see why you're offering it to me."
"Because some crazy stuff is about to go down," I said. Already I could feel the curl of Winter's magic at my spine and wrists, trying to tug me back into the war raging across the realms of Faerie. "You know that."
"That doesn't explain why you're giving me one of your favored modes of protection. If you wanted to make a gesture, Harry, you could have made it a less suicidal one." I had to look away from his eyes.
"Chicago needs you," I said. "And I need Chicago." I need something to try and come back to.
"You need me." He said it simply, or seemed to. A strangled sound escaped me, like I'd been kicked in the ribs.
That was the real problem here, wasn't it? Ever since I'd taken on the mantle of the Winter Knight, I'd seen more of John Marcone than I thought I'd wanted to. Meetings, battles, "chance encounters". And it became a lot harder to go after him for being a criminal scumbag when I was just as ruthless on a weekly basis, sometimes worse. He knew me at my worst (and what he didn't know, he guessed); what's more, the thing that broke me, was that he wanted to. I could have sworn the crazy bastard wanted to take me back to his place and pin me to a chair and dig his fingers deep enough they'd go beneath Winter's taint and drag me out again; he wanted to make me talk until he knew every word I'd ever said, breathe until he'd tasted every breath.
Needed him? I wanted him, too.
"Yeah. And I'm too tired to dance." We shared a look, then a chuckle, the kind of laugh of a man on his way to the gallows.
"I see." He held out his wrist. "In that case, Harry." I stared at him with an expression on my face that probably wasn't one of my intelligent ones. "If you would do me the honor?"
"Oh." I swallowed. His eyes were too dark, too intense. "Okay." I fumbled the bracelet around his wrist and slid the catch home, feeling the magic thrum within its links. Marcone moved his fingers around and held me there.
"You will be back by midnight tomorrow to reclaim this," he said, voice low. "I expect to see you. Alive."
Then he twisted a hand into my collar, dragged me closer, and kissed me.
For a few minutes, it was madness. The sharp moans he tore from my mouth; my fingertips, pressing greedily into his back, skin on skin, warmth on warmth. His tongue against my neck, his teeth. How I writhed against him, trying to press closer, trying to crawl inside him and hide for a little while. But there were things I had to do. It was hard to pull away. He didn't want me to go.
"Tomorrow night." Marcone knew I couldn't promise, but he'd take what he could get. He was a businessman, after all.
"Tomorrow night," he said, breathing hard, and slackened his grip. One of his hands was digging into the edge of his desk, white-knuckled; the other, bearing my shield bracelet, made an abortive movement towards me, as though he wanted to haul me back. It hurt to step away. "I'll be waiting."
I couldn't speak, so I swept my staff through the air. We watched the Nevernever unfold before us.
"Be safe," I said, my voice all hoarse.
"And you, Harry. And you."
It wasn't often, I thought, that I got to see Marcone so shocked. His eyebrows actually moved. I guess that was the fucking upside to all this, that messing with him still sparked something in the cold white patches of emptiness that twisted and throbbed in my soul like the dull pulsing of a heart. My heart. The only thing I'd told Mab she couldn't buy.
"Mr. Dresden," said Marcone, after a loaded pause. "I must confess, I'm not entirely sure what you want me to do with this."
"Take it," I snarled, and I really, really hoped he would leave it at that. I jabbed my hand at him, the silver chain of my shield bracelet curling against my fingers, ice against ice.
"I have been reliably informed by Ms. Gard," he said, "that your shield bracelet contains enough protective magic to stop a speeding truck." He leaned forward, interested in spite of himself. Hendricks shifted from foot to foot, glancing at me like I was going to explode or set the rug on fire or rip a gate to the Nevernever open in the middle of Marcone's swanky office or something (...okay, to be fair, I was about to do that last one, which is why Marcone needed to stop screwing around and take the damn bracelet). "I fail to see why you're offering it to me."
"Because some crazy stuff is about to go down," I said. Already I could feel the curl of Winter's magic at my spine and wrists, trying to tug me back into the war raging across the realms of Faerie. "You know that."
"That doesn't explain why you're giving me one of your favored modes of protection. If you wanted to make a gesture, Harry, you could have made it a less suicidal one." I had to look away from his eyes.
"Chicago needs you," I said. "And I need Chicago." I need something to try and come back to.
"You need me." He said it simply, or seemed to. A strangled sound escaped me, like I'd been kicked in the ribs.
That was the real problem here, wasn't it? Ever since I'd taken on the mantle of the Winter Knight, I'd seen more of John Marcone than I thought I'd wanted to. Meetings, battles, "chance encounters". And it became a lot harder to go after him for being a criminal scumbag when I was just as ruthless on a weekly basis, sometimes worse. He knew me at my worst (and what he didn't know, he guessed); what's more, the thing that broke me, was that he wanted to. I could have sworn the crazy bastard wanted to take me back to his place and pin me to a chair and dig his fingers deep enough they'd go beneath Winter's taint and drag me out again; he wanted to make me talk until he knew every word I'd ever said, breathe until he'd tasted every breath.
Needed him? I wanted him, too.
"Yeah. And I'm too tired to dance." We shared a look, then a chuckle, the kind of laugh of a man on his way to the gallows.
"I see." He held out his wrist. "In that case, Harry." I stared at him with an expression on my face that probably wasn't one of my intelligent ones. "If you would do me the honor?"
"Oh." I swallowed. His eyes were too dark, too intense. "Okay." I fumbled the bracelet around his wrist and slid the catch home, feeling the magic thrum within its links. Marcone moved his fingers around and held me there.
"You will be back by midnight tomorrow to reclaim this," he said, voice low. "I expect to see you. Alive."
Then he twisted a hand into my collar, dragged me closer, and kissed me.
For a few minutes, it was madness. The sharp moans he tore from my mouth; my fingertips, pressing greedily into his back, skin on skin, warmth on warmth. His tongue against my neck, his teeth. How I writhed against him, trying to press closer, trying to crawl inside him and hide for a little while. But there were things I had to do. It was hard to pull away. He didn't want me to go.
"Tomorrow night." Marcone knew I couldn't promise, but he'd take what he could get. He was a businessman, after all.
"Tomorrow night," he said, breathing hard, and slackened his grip. One of his hands was digging into the edge of his desk, white-knuckled; the other, bearing my shield bracelet, made an abortive movement towards me, as though he wanted to haul me back. It hurt to step away. "I'll be waiting."
I couldn't speak, so I swept my staff through the air. We watched the Nevernever unfold before us.
"Be safe," I said, my voice all hoarse.
"And you, Harry. And you."
Empty night, indeed. I'm so glad this wasn't harrassment -- it was normal lust mixed with life-saving-provoked hunger. Poor Thomas!
Lara/Harry, Thomas/Harry, Lara/Thomas(Optional), Someone/Dresden
Harry Dresden is the half-brother of Thomas Raith who found him after the death of his father, and immediately, adopted him. Now Harry has to deal with his family constantly making advancing on him, their admirers, and protecting him from their admirers. Especially when Thomas decides to get a job.
What he doesn't know is that Thomas and Lara are also constantly protecting him from his admirers.
Harry Dresden is the half-brother of Thomas Raith who found him after the death of his father, and immediately, adopted him. Now Harry has to deal with his family constantly making advancing on him, their admirers, and protecting him from their admirers. Especially when Thomas decides to get a job.
What he doesn't know is that Thomas and Lara are also constantly protecting him from his admirers.
Orgy, fuck to save the world! Which is necessary, because I'd love to see:
- Michael / Charity (just doing each other, but in the presence of others)
- Could Susan and Thomas have sex in a non-fatal way? Maybe with each other? Maybe in a way that wouldn't hurt Harry? Ooh, or Lara/Susan?
- How could Ana have sex in a way that wouldn't feel non-con to her? Maybe Rashid? Karrin?
- Who would consensually molest Carlos? I suspect Sanya!
- Is Harry just watching, or participating?
- Hendricks/Gard?
- Is Shiro there? Depends on the timeline I guess.
Involve as many people as possible! Just make it consensual.
- Who'd consensually molest Carlos? Harry? Kincaid?
- Michael / Charity (just doing each other, but in the presence of others)
- Could Susan and Thomas have sex in a non-fatal way? Maybe with each other? Maybe in a way that wouldn't hurt Harry? Ooh, or Lara/Susan?
- How could Ana have sex in a way that wouldn't feel non-con to her? Maybe Rashid? Karrin?
- Who would consensually molest Carlos? I suspect Sanya!
- Is Harry just watching, or participating?
- Hendricks/Gard?
- Is Shiro there? Depends on the timeline I guess.
Involve as many people as possible! Just make it consensual.
- Who'd consensually molest Carlos? Harry? Kincaid?
OP is filled with love for you. really.
:)
And Jake was adorable, too. While I want to give Thomas a hug and make him feel better, I sort of want to give Jake hugs, and tell him a broken heart will heal. XD
:)
And Jake was adorable, too. While I want to give Thomas a hug and make him feel better, I sort of want to give Jake hugs, and tell him a broken heart will heal. XD
oh my god seconded, seconded so hard
I even know an artist who's style I could see for this. very simple, beautiful, colorful, but with the capacity for dark, beautiful stuff...
I even know an artist who's style I could see for this. very simple, beautiful, colorful, but with the capacity for dark, beautiful stuff...
Page 119 of 177
- «
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- 12
- 13
- 14
- 15
- 16
- 17
- 18
- 19
- 20
- 21
- 22
- 23
- 24
- 25
- 26
- 27
- 28
- 29
- 30
- 31
- 32
- 33
- 34
- 35
- 36
- 37
- 38
- 39
- 40
- 41
- 42
- 43
- 44
- 45
- 46
- 47
- 48
- 49
- 50
- 51
- 52
- 53
- 54
- 55
- 56
- 57
- 58
- 59
- 60
- 61
- 62
- 63
- 64
- 65
- 66
- 67
- 68
- 69
- 70
- 71
- 72
- 73
- 74
- 75
- 76
- 77
- 78
- 79
- 80
- 81
- 82
- 83
- 84
- 85
- 86
- 87
- 88
- 89
- 90
- 91
- 92
- 93
- 94
- 95
- 96
- 97
- 98
- 99
- 100
- 101
- 102
- 103
- 104
- 105
- 106
- 107
- 108
- 109
- 110
- 111
- 112
- 113
- 114
- 115
- 116
- 117
- 118
- 119
- 120
- 121
- 122
- 123
- 124
- 125
- 126
- 127
- 128
- 129
- 130
- 131
- 132
- 133
- 134
- 135
- 136
- 137
- 138
- 139
- 140
- 141
- 142
- 143
- 144
- 145
- 146
- 147
- 148
- 149
- 150
- 151
- 152
- 153
- 154
- 155
- 156
- 157
- 158
- 159
- 160
- 161
- 162
- 163
- 164
- 165
- 166
- 167
- 168
- 169
- 170
- 171
- 172
- 173
- 174
- 175
- 176
- 177
- »
Page 119 of 177