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"I'm taking Maggie to the park," I told John.
He frowned. "It's too dangerous."
"...John. It's the park. It's flowers and freaking sunshine, how bad could it be?"
"Harry, there's a serial child molester wandering Chicago un-"
"Molested?"
He glared harder. "This isn't funny."
"I'll be with her the whole time! I'm taking my daughter to the fucking park!"
"No."
"Dammit John - "
"We're taking our daughter to the fucking park," he corrected. I relaxed and kissed his cheek.
"I thought you were too busy today."
"I have the feeling you'll go with or without permission, so it might as well be with the extra guards." He held me close and kissed my neck...then up towards my jaw, my ear. I moaned a little.
"Keep that up and it'll be dark before we get there."
John paused. "It's only noon."
I spun us a bit to press him up against the desk. "What's your point?"
A few rounds later - honestly, I lost track - and John straightened my clothes and we went to find Maggie. She was having a snack with Hendricks in the kitchen.
"Would you still like to go to the park, sweetheart?" I asked, kissing her on the head.
"I've been waiting foreverrrr," she dragged the word out, pouting.
"I had to convince your papa to come with us," I grinned. John actually got a little pink. I would never get tired of seeing him blush.
"Papa's coming too!" she beamed, and jumped up to hug him.
"Yes, Maggie," he smiled, lifting her up for a spin as she giggled. "Go get your shoes."
We made it to the park in fifteen minutes - to find it nearly empty. The news of the child molester had really gotten people scared. Maggie played on the swings and wandered a jungle gym as the bodyguards spread out and tried to look normal.
Maggie was never touched. But John noticed a kid struggling away from a lanky, bearded man and sent Hendricks and Jones after the pair.
The kid was wrapped around Hendricks' leg in a heartbeat, and Jones had the man on his knees, execution style. John walked over and had a chat with them.
The news that evening reported a concerned citizen, who preferred to remain anonymous, had held the molester until police arrived.
All in all, a good day. John and I got lots of sex, Maggie got meadows and bunnies and shit, and Chicago's streets were a little safer.
He frowned. "It's too dangerous."
"...John. It's the park. It's flowers and freaking sunshine, how bad could it be?"
"Harry, there's a serial child molester wandering Chicago un-"
"Molested?"
He glared harder. "This isn't funny."
"I'll be with her the whole time! I'm taking my daughter to the fucking park!"
"No."
"Dammit John - "
"We're taking our daughter to the fucking park," he corrected. I relaxed and kissed his cheek.
"I thought you were too busy today."
"I have the feeling you'll go with or without permission, so it might as well be with the extra guards." He held me close and kissed my neck...then up towards my jaw, my ear. I moaned a little.
"Keep that up and it'll be dark before we get there."
John paused. "It's only noon."
I spun us a bit to press him up against the desk. "What's your point?"
A few rounds later - honestly, I lost track - and John straightened my clothes and we went to find Maggie. She was having a snack with Hendricks in the kitchen.
"Would you still like to go to the park, sweetheart?" I asked, kissing her on the head.
"I've been waiting foreverrrr," she dragged the word out, pouting.
"I had to convince your papa to come with us," I grinned. John actually got a little pink. I would never get tired of seeing him blush.
"Papa's coming too!" she beamed, and jumped up to hug him.
"Yes, Maggie," he smiled, lifting her up for a spin as she giggled. "Go get your shoes."
We made it to the park in fifteen minutes - to find it nearly empty. The news of the child molester had really gotten people scared. Maggie played on the swings and wandered a jungle gym as the bodyguards spread out and tried to look normal.
Maggie was never touched. But John noticed a kid struggling away from a lanky, bearded man and sent Hendricks and Jones after the pair.
The kid was wrapped around Hendricks' leg in a heartbeat, and Jones had the man on his knees, execution style. John walked over and had a chat with them.
The news that evening reported a concerned citizen, who preferred to remain anonymous, had held the molester until police arrived.
All in all, a good day. John and I got lots of sex, Maggie got meadows and bunnies and shit, and Chicago's streets were a little safer.
Yay for domestic fluff, Dresden-style! :D
The man shoved at Harry and he toppled over, crying out as he hit the hard ground, stars and waves of black taking over his vision. Hands grabbed at him and he tried to kick, but of course he was still held tight in the spell.
He was thrown over a shoulder, bone digging into his stomach and carried jouncing out of the room and down a long hallway. Soft pained sounds forced their way out of him with every step. The sight of the floor going by beneath him, little more than a faint, gray blur made his head spin, blood pounding and he closed his eyes to try and keep from throwing up.
"Here we are." Harry found himself swung off the shoulder and then his back hit something solid.
He opened his eyes, but the room was bright, like the middle of the day and he was blinded. A weight pressed down over his chest, tight and then tighter, until he had to fight to breathe. There was a click, like something locking into place and then the spell around him broke.
His eyes were watering, blurry, but he could see the man and someone else, someone much smaller moving around him. More pressure, straps, pinned his hips down, his arms against his sides. A small hand grabbed at his ankle and he kicked, shouting and cursing, using every foul word he knew.
"Shhhh..." Fingers ran soothingly across his ankle as a woman's voice cooed at him. "Hush. It's all for the best. You'll see. I know you're frightened, but-"
"Enough!" The man again, and his big hand wrapped around his ankle, slamming his leg down and yanking the last strap tight enough that Harry felt the edge of it cut into his skin, a small trickle of blood following the curve of it. "Get on with it Kumori."
The woman murmured something and then moved away. Her voice lifted a few seconds later in a loud, rolling chant. Harry felt the power growing, slowly and steadily. The man, the one who'd attacked the house, the one who'd hurt Murphy, hurt Mouse and maybe killed everyone came to stand over Harry, watery blue-grey eyes lit with pleasure and power.
He stood there, waiting until Kumori's chant hit a rising crescendo and then he lifted a small cup, prying Harry's mouth open with his other hand.
Harry bit him, hard enough to draw blood, imagining his teeth sinking in to the bone. The man cursed and fumbled to set the cup down before he spilled it. He took hold of Harry's hair and slammed his head back into the wood of the table, once, twice, until Harry's jaw muscles went slack, his world narrowed down to a thin slice of sight as darkness and pain too the rest of it.
Something foul and oily was forced into his mouth and as he tried to spit it out a big hand clamped his jaw shut, covered his nose until he had to swallow, couldn't help it. The man let go and Harry dragged in as deep a breath as he could.
"It's a shame you're too rare to kill, Dresden."
Whatever it was he'd swallowed burned, felt like a weight inside of him. The man moved away, out of sight, and Harry heard the snap of energy, felt the press of magic as a circle was closed around him. Pain sliced through him, felt like it was trying to cut him open and rip him apart from the inside and he cried out, couldn't get enough air to scream.
In the middle of it all, with his blood pounding and the pain making him writhe, there was a tearing sound, a sensation of a dark, dank breeze and then something shimmered in the air over him. Something he couldn't see, except he could now, more and more. Wavering heat lines and then it started to fade into being, dark and smokey where it was visible at all.
Dark spots appeared in from of his face, coalesced and flickered and the thought skittered through Harry's brain that they were eyes. That they were his eyes, dark brown and hovering and then the vaporous thing laughed, deep and hissing as it started to move closer.
Harry found the breath to scream.
He was thrown over a shoulder, bone digging into his stomach and carried jouncing out of the room and down a long hallway. Soft pained sounds forced their way out of him with every step. The sight of the floor going by beneath him, little more than a faint, gray blur made his head spin, blood pounding and he closed his eyes to try and keep from throwing up.
"Here we are." Harry found himself swung off the shoulder and then his back hit something solid.
He opened his eyes, but the room was bright, like the middle of the day and he was blinded. A weight pressed down over his chest, tight and then tighter, until he had to fight to breathe. There was a click, like something locking into place and then the spell around him broke.
His eyes were watering, blurry, but he could see the man and someone else, someone much smaller moving around him. More pressure, straps, pinned his hips down, his arms against his sides. A small hand grabbed at his ankle and he kicked, shouting and cursing, using every foul word he knew.
"Shhhh..." Fingers ran soothingly across his ankle as a woman's voice cooed at him. "Hush. It's all for the best. You'll see. I know you're frightened, but-"
"Enough!" The man again, and his big hand wrapped around his ankle, slamming his leg down and yanking the last strap tight enough that Harry felt the edge of it cut into his skin, a small trickle of blood following the curve of it. "Get on with it Kumori."
The woman murmured something and then moved away. Her voice lifted a few seconds later in a loud, rolling chant. Harry felt the power growing, slowly and steadily. The man, the one who'd attacked the house, the one who'd hurt Murphy, hurt Mouse and maybe killed everyone came to stand over Harry, watery blue-grey eyes lit with pleasure and power.
He stood there, waiting until Kumori's chant hit a rising crescendo and then he lifted a small cup, prying Harry's mouth open with his other hand.
Harry bit him, hard enough to draw blood, imagining his teeth sinking in to the bone. The man cursed and fumbled to set the cup down before he spilled it. He took hold of Harry's hair and slammed his head back into the wood of the table, once, twice, until Harry's jaw muscles went slack, his world narrowed down to a thin slice of sight as darkness and pain too the rest of it.
Something foul and oily was forced into his mouth and as he tried to spit it out a big hand clamped his jaw shut, covered his nose until he had to swallow, couldn't help it. The man let go and Harry dragged in as deep a breath as he could.
"It's a shame you're too rare to kill, Dresden."
Whatever it was he'd swallowed burned, felt like a weight inside of him. The man moved away, out of sight, and Harry heard the snap of energy, felt the press of magic as a circle was closed around him. Pain sliced through him, felt like it was trying to cut him open and rip him apart from the inside and he cried out, couldn't get enough air to scream.
In the middle of it all, with his blood pounding and the pain making him writhe, there was a tearing sound, a sensation of a dark, dank breeze and then something shimmered in the air over him. Something he couldn't see, except he could now, more and more. Wavering heat lines and then it started to fade into being, dark and smokey where it was visible at all.
Dark spots appeared in from of his face, coalesced and flickered and the thought skittered through Harry's brain that they were eyes. That they were his eyes, dark brown and hovering and then the vaporous thing laughed, deep and hissing as it started to move closer.
Harry found the breath to scream.
I want to see Harry wearing a collar that Marcone put on him. Preferably permanently. Bonus points if it's got a very beautifully crafted tag that looks like abstract art to the mundanes but to those who know [insert magically significant language or symbol system here] says something roughly like "PROPERTY OF JOHN MARCONE".
It would be especially super-duper nice if Harry originally agreed to it grudgingly for Weird Political Reasons but eventually starts to actually like it.
It would be especially super-duper nice if Harry originally agreed to it grudgingly for Weird Political Reasons but eventually starts to actually like it.
Harry, Harry, Harry, you really don't do subtle at all, do you?
I cannot comprehend how awesome this fic is shaping up to be.
Hendricks would be Alfred. Gard can be Robin. Hey, we've had a blond, female Robin at least twice if you count Elseworlds, so it works.
Amanda can be Oracle, yes. :D
Hmm...I hadn't actually picked *a* GL for Harry. I was just thinking more along the powers matching up thing. But I'd say maybe Hal or Kyle. Definitely not Guy, sorry. :D *lol*
Amanda can be Oracle, yes. :D
Hmm...I hadn't actually picked *a* GL for Harry. I was just thinking more along the powers matching up thing. But I'd say maybe Hal or Kyle. Definitely not Guy, sorry. :D *lol*
*blinks* I'm sorry, I think you have this fill mixed up with some other fill.
Seriously, if you guys had any idea how many times I almost deleted this whole fic because I looked at it and thought it was shit...
*shakes head*
I'm glad you're enjoying it, and I promise I will finish it! :D
Seriously, if you guys had any idea how many times I almost deleted this whole fic because I looked at it and thought it was shit...
*shakes head*
I'm glad you're enjoying it, and I promise I will finish it! :D
Justin is an evil bastard, yes. And a manipulative, abusive dick too.
Hmm...outsiders, you say? Maaybeeee....
Thank you!
Hmm...outsiders, you say? Maaybeeee....
Thank you!
LOL! Kid!Harry likes John. *snickers quietly* ...well. If Adult Harry remember any of this, this is going to be....awkward.
*snerk* Yeah...that would be awkward, wouldn't it? And I'd never do that to Harry...
Mine is an evil grin.
*snerk* Yeah...that would be awkward, wouldn't it? And I'd never do that to Harry...
Mine is an evil grin.
Cowl's an evil guy. Like, on par with Justin douche-iness. :D
*shifty look* It means something. But I'm not telling you!
*shifty look* It means something. But I'm not telling you!
The chamomile helped somewhat. It was a soothing taste and did a good job at mellowing Harry out, making him long for his bed.
But once he'd stretched out under the covers, he was stuck being incredibly tired but unable to actually sleep. His thoughts were lazy loops, no significant connections or process, just idle contemplation that pettered out before it could get anywhere.
After a while, he closed his eyes and listened, trying to hear anything. Sirens in the distance, the hum of cars going by ten floors down. Nothing next door.
He wished there was something. Footsteps, the sound of water in the pipes, a dropped object. Anything to betray whether John was awake or not.
God, what was wrong with him? So he got a bit too friendly with his neighbor during the blackout. It was one night. It shouldn't have been haunting him like this. He was a grown man, not... whatever it was that got so caught up with vampires. Teenage girls, probably. He'd seen trailers for that terrible vampire movie saga. They weren't anything like the real thing. John's skin was pale, but not so much his Italian background didn't show in the olive texture. He didn't act like an angst-filled idiot about being a vampire either. He seemed more adjusted to his life than Harry was, for god's sake. John was the very model of a responsible adult.
Just one that sometimes needed to set his mouth against someone's skin, push his teeth through, and drink long and deep--
"No, I didn't think that was a good idea for your first bite."
"Wait, so vampires do that?"
These were not calming, sleep-inducing thoughts. Harry groaned and turned over in bed, pushing his face into his pillow, trying not to think about that anymore.
He returned the box of tea to John before work the next day. "Did it help?" John asked, politely solicitous.
Harry shrugged. "Yeah?"
John's eyes were sharp on his face, on the way Harry was leaning on the door jamb. "Yes. Clearly," he said, tone lightly sarcastic.
"I'll be fine," Harry muttered, feeling oddly like he was being scolded or something.
"Yesterday you were fine. You seem to be regressing."
John, as... deeply engaging and interesting as Harry found him, was kind of a dick. "What do you want from me?"
"To sleep. Obviously." His gaze dropped down. Harry followed it to his own arm, which Harry was rubbing absentmindedly, right over the fading bite mark. He stopped as John looked at him, face blank. "Mr. Dresden..."
"I... got to open the shop," Harry blurted, backing away. "See you later. Thanks for the tea." He didn't run away, per se, but it was a close thing. Oh well, discretion was the better part of valor or whatever.
He took his lunch as the cafe across the street from his shop, a triple shot latte with a pumpernickle sandwich piled up with deli meats. He ate his sandwich, savoring the sweet and savory taste mix, then nursed his coffee with one hand, a book held open in his other. The words on the page kept jumping around though, blurring and shifting, hurting his eyes. Harry sighed, shut his eyes for just a moment.
He opened them again later when the waitress shook his shoulder and told him in a regretful voice that they were closing and that he should go home and get some sleep, you poor dear, do you need a taxi called for you?
This was getting ridiculous.
Harry stomped home, radiating surly annoyance as he walked, as he rode the Red Line, as he waited for the elevator, all of it.
He'd slept through most of his work. And he still felt exhausted, like his knees were going to buckle at any moment and spill him onto the floor. He couldn't keep going like this. He needed... something.
He fed the animals and took a shower, letting the hot water beat onto him until the tension was forced out of him. It felt good, invigorating. But when he stumbled out of the bathroom, the heat, the tiredness, it made his head spin and he fell down, down...
[this stereotypical Harlequin enough? OH FAINTING OH! :swoon:]
But once he'd stretched out under the covers, he was stuck being incredibly tired but unable to actually sleep. His thoughts were lazy loops, no significant connections or process, just idle contemplation that pettered out before it could get anywhere.
After a while, he closed his eyes and listened, trying to hear anything. Sirens in the distance, the hum of cars going by ten floors down. Nothing next door.
He wished there was something. Footsteps, the sound of water in the pipes, a dropped object. Anything to betray whether John was awake or not.
God, what was wrong with him? So he got a bit too friendly with his neighbor during the blackout. It was one night. It shouldn't have been haunting him like this. He was a grown man, not... whatever it was that got so caught up with vampires. Teenage girls, probably. He'd seen trailers for that terrible vampire movie saga. They weren't anything like the real thing. John's skin was pale, but not so much his Italian background didn't show in the olive texture. He didn't act like an angst-filled idiot about being a vampire either. He seemed more adjusted to his life than Harry was, for god's sake. John was the very model of a responsible adult.
Just one that sometimes needed to set his mouth against someone's skin, push his teeth through, and drink long and deep--
"No, I didn't think that was a good idea for your first bite."
"Wait, so vampires do that?"
These were not calming, sleep-inducing thoughts. Harry groaned and turned over in bed, pushing his face into his pillow, trying not to think about that anymore.
He returned the box of tea to John before work the next day. "Did it help?" John asked, politely solicitous.
Harry shrugged. "Yeah?"
John's eyes were sharp on his face, on the way Harry was leaning on the door jamb. "Yes. Clearly," he said, tone lightly sarcastic.
"I'll be fine," Harry muttered, feeling oddly like he was being scolded or something.
"Yesterday you were fine. You seem to be regressing."
John, as... deeply engaging and interesting as Harry found him, was kind of a dick. "What do you want from me?"
"To sleep. Obviously." His gaze dropped down. Harry followed it to his own arm, which Harry was rubbing absentmindedly, right over the fading bite mark. He stopped as John looked at him, face blank. "Mr. Dresden..."
"I... got to open the shop," Harry blurted, backing away. "See you later. Thanks for the tea." He didn't run away, per se, but it was a close thing. Oh well, discretion was the better part of valor or whatever.
He took his lunch as the cafe across the street from his shop, a triple shot latte with a pumpernickle sandwich piled up with deli meats. He ate his sandwich, savoring the sweet and savory taste mix, then nursed his coffee with one hand, a book held open in his other. The words on the page kept jumping around though, blurring and shifting, hurting his eyes. Harry sighed, shut his eyes for just a moment.
He opened them again later when the waitress shook his shoulder and told him in a regretful voice that they were closing and that he should go home and get some sleep, you poor dear, do you need a taxi called for you?
This was getting ridiculous.
Harry stomped home, radiating surly annoyance as he walked, as he rode the Red Line, as he waited for the elevator, all of it.
He'd slept through most of his work. And he still felt exhausted, like his knees were going to buckle at any moment and spill him onto the floor. He couldn't keep going like this. He needed... something.
He fed the animals and took a shower, letting the hot water beat onto him until the tension was forced out of him. It felt good, invigorating. But when he stumbled out of the bathroom, the heat, the tiredness, it made his head spin and he fell down, down...
[this stereotypical Harlequin enough? OH FAINTING OH! :swoon:]
*nod* That works for me. :D (any idea who could be Joker? I was thinking a Fae, but Joker is a normal like Batman.)
Maybe most of the Wizards will be part of all of the Lantern Corps?
*nod* Gotcha. ...oh! OH! I know who could be Guy! Morgan! :D
Maybe most of the Wizards will be part of all of the Lantern Corps?
*nod* Gotcha. ...oh! OH! I know who could be Guy! Morgan! :D
Oh, Harry.
(Yes. The fainting. You should see my big ass shit eating grin.)
(Yes. The fainting. You should see my big ass shit eating grin.)
This would be something that appears to be some sort of goth fashion to the uninitiated?
The Weird Political Reasons, would this have started as something Harry thought would be temporary? And then winds up permanent? Because I can see grudging agreement to temporary collaring as a way to handle Political Dust-up of the Week/Monster of the Week situations, but consent to wearing one permanently? I'm thinking that's going to involve a Darkhallow-level mess with no other solution in sight.
Or are you suggesting this from a position of an established relationship? That could also make it a lot more plausible.
Any magical properties to the collar?
How tricky is Marcone being? Does he have another solution to whatever that he's just not mentioning to Harry?
The Weird Political Reasons, would this have started as something Harry thought would be temporary? And then winds up permanent? Because I can see grudging agreement to temporary collaring as a way to handle Political Dust-up of the Week/Monster of the Week situations, but consent to wearing one permanently? I'm thinking that's going to involve a Darkhallow-level mess with no other solution in sight.
Or are you suggesting this from a position of an established relationship? That could also make it a lot more plausible.
Any magical properties to the collar?
How tricky is Marcone being? Does he have another solution to whatever that he's just not mentioning to Harry?
Marcone plants one on Harry, in public. Mouthy wizards are aparently a turn on and make him lose his cool. :)
Marcone gets turned into a frog by a bad, bad wizard. Only a kiss from his true love will set him free. Hendricks has a good idea who that is. Harry will just have to deal. Something lighthearted, please. :-)
Nicodemus is right - all the craziness happening is the sign of the impending Apocalypse. Harry doesn't really like the idea of the world ending, no matter how 'pre-ordained' it is (all his stuff is on Earth!), and goes for the obvious option: Declare war on God.
Rag-tag misfit team-up of Harry, Marcone, Donar and a highly-reluctant Michael would be amazing.
Rag-tag misfit team-up of Harry, Marcone, Donar and a highly-reluctant Michael would be amazing.
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