Round 2 is closed.

[scribe_protra]

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This round is now closed.

Comments

Re: Filled 9/9 (Done) (Now with less HTML fail!)

[samjohnsson]

Love this so damn hard.

Re: AU to Changes FILL 5/?

[samjohnsson]

agreeing with this so very much. Love the point you made about owing allegiance to the White Council.

Re: Dresden Files/My Little Pony Friendship Is Magic Crossover

[(Anonymous)]

Would fanart be acceptable?

Re: Filled 9/9 (Done) (Now with less HTML fail!)

[(Anonymous)]

Awesome. I can't stop giggling and grinning. You have the most fantastic Hendricks voice. Marcone got taken to pieces. Everything is love.

Re: Filled 9/9 (Done) (Now with less HTML fail!)

[(Anonymous)]

Ohhhhhhh. I was late to class in order to read this, and it was TOTALLY WORTH IT.

This here is my OT3.

Re: My (not so) Imaginary Friend (3/?)

[(Anonymous)]

The only thing I'm really having trouble following is the timeline... that period of silence was two years?

Re: AU to Changes FILL 5/?

[(Anonymous)]

Harry can bring John his kills all day, John will not mind.

Re: Harry gets his bitch on (5/?)

[(Anonymous)]

Please, please, please.

Really, this fic is amazing. Deals with some heavy stuff, and you're so good at it!

Re: Dresden Files/My Little Pony Friendship Is Magic Crossover

[(Anonymous)]

OP here. I was prompting for fic and I really would like fic, but fanart would be cool too!

Re: The 'Za Lord's Courtship

[(Anonymous)]

Lol. Couldn't you just so see Toot-toot being the leader of the whole thing?:)

Re: Dresden Files/My Little Pony Friendship Is Magic Crossover

[(Anonymous)]

DA would LOOOOVE fanart!

Re: How 'bout some worldbuilding?

[luciazephyr]

Missourian here very tempted to do a culture shock fill of Chicagoan Harry moving to rural Missouri...

Re: Fill: Playing for the Crowd 9/9

[(Anonymous)]

You know that line from The Princess Bride? 'There have been five great kisses...this one left them all behind.'?

This kiss wasn't even close to that category.

I lost it right there. Brilliant, hot, hilarious, everything. And it gave me a hard-on for girl!harry like you wouldn't believe. xD

if language were liquid, it would be rushing in

[(Anonymous)]

Harry is curse with temporary muteness. Any pairing you want (or go gen if you prefer). Just want to see how he deals (or doesn't deal, as it were).

Re: How 'bout some worldbuilding?

[(Anonymous)]

Doooo eeeet!

[(Anonymous)]

Marcone is a painter, Harry becomes his muse.

Means of transportation

[(Anonymous)]

Dresden/Marcone or GEN.
Marcone insists on driving Dresden home. Dresden refuses and is going to use public transportation or walk. Maybe he's had enough of mobster's presence for the day, or he's uncomfortable being with him in the car. I'd like to see a little disagreement on the matter. The weather in Chicago might be ok, might be unpleasant.
It could even be a deep night and Dresden in pajama because of some emergency. Or something.

Angsty prompt

[(Anonymous)]

Harry finally figures out how to make Marcone have a wizard lifespan so he won't have to watch his lover die, and it actually works. Then Harry is killed.

Re: AU to Changes FILL 5/?

[califmole]

This continues to be amazing, from the grim humor of "It's not even my birthday" to the heart-wrenching confrontation with the White Council.

Harry's never had anything like this before, someone who would take his side against all threats. It's got to be both unnerving and comforting.

Re: if language were liquid, it would be rushing in

[(Anonymous)]

aww, want to see.

But I'm a Wizard FILL 3/?

[(Anonymous)]

"Strictly speaking," John said later, over dinner, "you're probably actually bisexual."

"Okay, what," I said, "so I'm halfway normal or something? Great."

"I guess you'll have an easier time than the rest of us," Meryl said, listlessly poking her broccoli with her spoon.

"Small consolation," I muttered. "I was fine before I got here." I glared at Andi. "If it weren't for you, I'd still be straight."

Andi flinched- I realized, too late, that I'd been flinging bits of energy around, not enough for most people to notice, but, well. Andi was sensitive. Magically speaking. And also emotionally speaking, judging from her anguished look. "Harry, I'm sorry," she said. "But... you know... it probably would have come up eventually. Isn't it better that it happen here, where you can work through it?"

"No! Yes! I don't know!" I stabbed at my food angrily, and then worked on reigning in the excessive energy. Control. Right.

I wished I could talk to Elaine. Even if getting me sent here was partially her fault- she must have thought she was helping. And maybe Andi was right, maybe it was better this way. But here I was, part of my whole self-image turned on it's head, and I was supposed to talk about it with a bunch of strangers.

I didn't want to talk about it with a bunch of strangers. I wanted to talk about it with Elaine.

After dinner, we were supposed to watch some sort of film that supposedly illustrated healthy heterosexual relationships, and actually illustrated the hazards of being too cheap to hire real actors. Fortunately for us, about ten minutes in the film projector mysteriously broke down.

Well, everyone else thought it was mysterious.

In the free time before lights out that followed, I started writing a letter to Elaine. I was about three lines in before I was interrupted.

"Who are you writing to?" Jeff asked, peering over my shoulder.

"My sister," I said, turning away so he couldn't read what I was writing.

"Oh," he said. "Um... you probably shouldn't call Mary a bitch?"

"Why the hell not?" I asked. "She is one." Okay, she was trying to help me, but still. That didn't mean I had to like her.

"Because she reads all of our mail, incoming and outgoing." John said. He was studying again. Some book about business logistics.

"Oh," I said. I should have guessed, really. And now that I thought about it, Justin would probably read anything I sent to Elaine too. I mean, sure, that was his right, but... it meant I couldn't be honest. Not that I was in the habit of lying to Justin, but there was a lot of stuff I wanted to tell Elaine that I would just feel weird if I knew Justin knew. I didn't want Justin to know when I felt weak, or confused. He wouldn't understand. He'd tell me to toughen up, as if I wasn't trying. Elaine understood that sometimes I just needed to- fine. Sometimes I needed to whine a bit before solving my problems. It didn't mean they didn't get solved, it didn't mean I needed help, I just wanted to vent a bit.

I sighed and crumpled up the paper. I palmed it out of sight from everyone else- a trick I learned from my real father, when I was a little kid- and channeled some of the frustration I felt into it, letting my anger burn the paper to ash. I wiped my hand off discreetly on the bedsheets and breathed a little easier. Literally burning off my excess emotions was a habit I'd picked up a few months ago.

I looked up to find John staring at me intently. Not wide-eyes "what the hell?" staring, but a sort of squinted "I know something is up but I don't know what" staring. Damn. I'd have to be more careful. "What?" I said- okay, maybe sort of snarled- at him.

He shook his head. "Nothing," he said, and didn't look up from his book until lights out.

Re: My (not so) Imaginary Friend (3/?)

[kjollar]

What makes you think so? It's mentioned somewhere in the text that silence lasted for about 2 weeks. I skipped some time in general because nothing interesting happened (just regular chats about weather and the like XD)

Fill: Fortuitus Familia 10/?

[(Anonymous)]

Week 15

"We can't go." I leaned against the door of Marcone's insanely huge bathroom, watching him finish shaving. He rolled his eyes to mine in the mirror and gave me a questioning look. "I'm feeling kind of sick."

"That's sudden. You were fine half an hour ago."

Right, so maybe having Marcone fuck me up against a wall before I tried to pull a sickie hadn't been the cleverest idea. It was just- he really, really liked the little baby belly I was sporting. It wasn't huge or anything, but it was definitely there, a gentle bowing out. And I really liked that he really liked it. One innocent thing, like Marcone rubbing my belly would lead to another and then we were traumatizing some of the wise guys and having sex on the dining room table. It was a vicious, vicious cycle.

"This is going to suck. Charity and Michael. I love them, really. But they, ah, had issues with my life before they found out I was, not only having premarital monkey sex but had gotten knocked up. There will be lecturing. And pointed questions about when we're getting married. Invitations to Mass!"

"Would that be so bad?" Oh, right. I kept forgetting Marcone was Catholic. Sort of. He made it easy to forget though. He went to the crack-o-dawn Mass on Sundays, and I slept in if we were sleeping over. He never asked me to go, though I had once or twice and he never made an issue out of it.

"Ah, you know I don't mind the ceremony. I even like the Latin one. It's pretty to listen to. But I don't believe, and it's kind of...I keep waiting for lightning to strike me or something."

"Not the Mass, Harry. Marriage."

My brain froze up. Marcone was cleaning up the counter, shuffling things into order after I'd messed them up earlier while I was getting ready. Asking me. No. He couldn't really be asking...

"Do you want us to get married, John?" He sighed and stopped moving, finally turning to look at me.

"I wouldn't mind, Harry. But, practically, it wouldn't change anything between us. You're mine."

"Possessive jerk."

"True." He ran his hand down my back, over my side, my thigh, smoothing out the fabric of the dress I'd opted for rather than the stretchy maternity pants. "And I'm yours. Neither of us shares well, though I hold out hopes-" I snorted, smiling.

"I told you. I'm not averse to having sex with Sigrun, I'm just not sure we'd want an audience." I pinched him, a little. He shook his head. It was a moot point. Neither one of us was willing to share, really.

"We're good where we are, Harry. Do you feel guilty that we're not married?"

"Of course not." I slipped my fingers into the waistband of his slacks, finding nothing but skin beneath them.

"Then don't let your friends make you feel guilt that doesn't belong to you. Your life isn't theirs, and what works for them does not work for us. They mean well and they say what they do out of love, or they wouldn't be your friends."

"Mmmhmmm. Just keep that in mind while Charity is ripping you a new one. Politely. With smiles and food. Also, remember that the last time Michael saw you, you were responsible for the theft of the Shroud of Turin."

"I did give it back."

"Eventually."

~

"Hi Michael!" My friend opened the door, his smile only getting broader as he took a good look at me. I smiled back in self defense until Michael swooped out of the doorway and hugged me. I patted his back, feeling incredibly awkward and I could feel Marcone's choked back amusement from behind me.

"Harry! I'm so glad you could make it." He stepped back, releasing me and finally got a look at Marcone. His face didn't fall, but it sort of solidified a little. This was going to be so much fun.

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Carpenter." Marcone stepped forward, holding out his hand. He had a smile on his face. Not quite the empty schmoozing smile, but close.

"We've met before." Michael took his hand, and they shook.

"Yes, but I don't believe we were properly introduced." Their knuckles started to turn white, pressure marks appearing where their fingers pressed into flesh.

"Things were a little hectic at the time. Regrettably, one of the first things to disappear in a crisis is manners." I swear I could hear their bones creak and grind together. Spare me. I slipped around Michael and into the house before they could whip their dicks out to measure.

"Charity?"

"In the kitchen." I followed her voice and the smell of really, really good cooking to the back of the house. Charity was just setting a meat loaf that looked like it belonged in a photo shoot on a serving tray. She looked up as I came in and smiled, friendlier than I'd ever seen from her before. "They're still in the front door, aren't they?"

"Last time I looked, yeah. They were busy grunting at each other and trying to break their hands." I picked up a salad dish and headed out into the dining room. "That looks really good, Charity."

"Thank you." She followed with the meat loaf and set it down, taking one last look over the table. "The kids are over at my mothers, so it's just us."

"Ah. I thought there was a distinct ring of silence in the Carpenter enclave." I'd been kind of hoping that the kids would form a buffer between us and whatever lectures were coming. So much for that idea. "I'll just go get them."

"Don't bother. Michael knew how close dinner was. He'll have wrapped it up already and be headed back." She gestured for me to take a seat, so I did. My stomach was suddenly, achingly empty. I was starting to feel like a zombie. Maybe I should shuffle around moaning 'Foooodddddd'. Sure enough, Michael and Marcone showed up a few seconds later. Neither one of them was smiling, but they weren't bleeding that I could see and they didn't look mad either.

Marcone took the seat to my right and I found his arm under the table, catching his watch and running my fingers along the inside of the band, feeling the runes I'd etched into it years ago and renewed every week since. He turned his wrist, caught my hand and brought them both up onto the table in plain sight.

~

Dinner went well. No, really. It surprised me too. We ate and chatted almost like we were all normal people. Yes, we talked about my pregnancy, but it didn't take up the entire conversation, which was one of the things I'd been worried about. Molly's progress was a hot topic, as well as all the work Michael was having to do to keep everything in the house working around her.

Michael's construction business was doing well, and Charity was thinking of designing and selling jewelry. After all, she had all the metal-working experience she'd ever need. She could do the big stuff, like Michael's breastplate as well as the finer work. The designs on his armor were gorgeous.

We sort of danced around Marcone's business, talking about his charitable work and the few things that were entirely on the right side of the law.

It was after dinner, when we were starting to clear the table that Michael touched me on the arm and asked me to follow him out to the workshop. I gave Marcone a look, which he ignored, and followed.

"Father Forthill told me that you had him take the coin." This...was not the conversation I'd thought we'd be having. I mentally spluttered for a second, shifting gears.

"Yeah. I- Lash is dead. I wanted the coin gone. The temptation to, to touch it again and get her back." I wrapped my arms around myself and stared out into the darkness of their yard. "It wouldn't have been Lash, but the thought was there."

"What do you mean, 'Lash is dead'?" Michael looked puzzled, and concerned.

"The shadow. Lash. I named her. She died, saving me back in the Raith Deeps. There was a huge thing and Cowl showed up, tried to fry my brain. Lash took the bullet." His hand rested on my shoulder.

"Harry, it wasn't real. The Fallen's shadows are there to tempt you. It was never your friend." I rolled my shoulder, shifting him off me.

"No offense, Michael, but you don't know jack about this. I lived with her. She started out like you say, a shadow of Lasciel. But she grew. She became her own person. Lash didn't have to die for me. She chose to save me. I'm not going to cheapen that sacrifice by pretending it was all a part of a plot." Michael took a step back, holding up his hands in surrender. "Is this what you wanted to talk about? Lash?"

"You're pregnant Harry. If you still had the shadow, it could convince you to take up the coin. And then Lasciel could affect the baby while it was still inside of you. I wanted to warn you. To caution you to lay aside your magic and starve the shadow out."

"Oh. Well, thanks. I guess. But...I'm not giving up my magic, ever. And like I said, Lash is dead. And I have a really, really strong urge to never see another of those damn coins again. So I won't be picking up another hitchhiker."

"Good. I'm glad." He grinned. "What did you think we were coming out here to talk about?"

"Oh," I flushed. "I thought you were going to give me the 'living in sin' speech. Followed by a healthy dose of 'get thee to the altar'." He laughed. Michael had a wonderful laugh, warm and homey. I hugged him, impulsively, and then stepped away, embarrassed that I'd done it.

"You're an adult, Harry." He was still smiling, laughter in his voice. "While yes, I'd love it if you would get married and settle down, find someone who made you as happy as Charity and I are, I'm hardly going to lecture you about it. You'd stick your fingers in your ears and go 'lalalala' while I did it, then run off and do what you wanted anyway. I have had some experience with your personality before you realize."

"He does make me happy, you know. When he's not pissing me off or worrying me."

"Just the same as Charity and I, then." We started to head back to the house. "He seems...nice." I elbowed him. He laughed again.

~

"It could have been worse."

"You two stood at the front door and tried to make each other cry for five minutes."

"And yet there was no lecturing, and no blood shed. We all had a pleasant meal." I slid, a little awkward, out of the backseat of the car, glad that Marcone had an attached garage. My tights were thick, but it was still getting chilly out. The door into the house opened up and Cujo stood there. Not blue, by the way. I'd decided against the actual Smurfing.

"Boss. Dresden. We've got a visitor."

"Who?" Cujo shook his head. "I don't know. Ms. Gard's got her in the front room, waiting. Says she's Sidhe. She wants to see Dresden." A flicker of dread hit me. There were really only two Sidhe women interested in me and I didn't want to see either one of them.

"Red or white hair?"

"Red." I groaned and considered getting back in the car. No. She'd just track me down later.

"Who is it?" Marcone and Cujo were both looking at me, waiting.

"My god-mother."

Re: Fill: Fortuitus Familia 9/?

[(Anonymous)]

:D I'm glad you're enjoying it!

Ah, yeah. That was the plan. :)

They do need hugs. Lots of hugs!

Re: OP Re: Fill: Fortuitus Familia 9/?

[(Anonymous)]

Hendricks is a genius. He's the power behind the throne.

He and Toot can get together now and commiserate about how hard it is to keep Harry and Marcone in line and out of trouble and how they don't get paid enough for this shit.

Actually...the nose bleed may not have been entirely the fault of the magic. Pregnant women sometimes get nose bleeds around this time because of changes in their blood pressure. Freaky, but normal.

Gods, Murphy, was that some sort of plot trying to make Harry see Marcone's darker side? Because Harry might be dumb, but not the sort of dumb to be with a guy for some time and have a kid with him and still have a possibility that she might not really understand things. But still...
oh wait. that last sentence. /is shot by canon/

Yeah. It was a plot of that sort. And...well. Yeah. Canon. Murphy's just having a bit of cognitive dissonance paired with the whole, Harry's been lying to her for three years pain.