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Dear OP, I'm glad to know that you, and the other readers too, are still enjoying the story :) I was a tiny, tiny, bit afraid people had already forgotten about it.
I very much plan to continue. Thinking of this story is what kept me sane during the Project of Doom. I should have the next part ready in a day or two. *is slow*
I very much plan to continue. Thinking of this story is what kept me sane during the Project of Doom. I should have the next part ready in a day or two. *is slow*
Can I just say I love that Billy won the bet? Heck, even better--that they actually had a bet about it lol!
My good mood lasted for all of two seconds that it took me to turn away from the phone and find myself in a company of two very tall (and I don’t use that definition lightly) and heavyset men waiting a polite – but not very great – distance away. Behind their backs I spied a dark blue Cadillac with tinted windows.
“Can I help you gentlemen?” I asked politely looking around for cops and finding none. I mean, come on, the crime scene is just two steps away – where is everybody when you need some mundane protection?
“Get in the car,” one of the men growled in what he presumed to be a threatening manner. Unfortunately for him I was mostly amused – he couldn’t hold a candle to Morgan on a good day. The second man moved to the Caddy and opened the rear door.
“And why would I want to do that?” I infused my voice with sincere curiosity at the same time readying my force-rings in case I had to demonstrate some magically-powered aikido moves.
“Mr. Dresden,” came a voice from inside the car, “I was hoping to discuss a business proposition with you. Would you like a lift to your office?”
“And you would be?” I made a few tentative steps to the open door and bent down to look inside.
“My name is John Marcone.”
Right. I should have guessed.
It was ironic in a twisted way to meet a person who was a criminal in the eyes of mundane law. On the one hand I could be considered a criminal myself; on the other Gentleman Johnny had done no wrong on my side of the fence. He was also a man of principles that were much more rigid that was common for his line of work and in an abstract kind of way I could almost respect it.
The man himself was an epitome of casualness: sports jacket and jeans, relaxed posture, a welcoming expression and smile-creases in the corners of his eyes. All that didn’t really disguise the sense of power not that much unlike my own – an almost physical manifestation of a strong will.
I reminded myself that if I wasn’t afraid of a big bad Warden, then I shouldn’t get scared of a plain vanilla mortal. Even if he was a mafia kingpin. And had goons. Who most assuredly had an assortment of deadly weapons stashed under their ill-fitting suit jackets… Way to reassure yourself, Harry!
I quickly reminded myself that I wasn’t all that helpless either. In fact, I had an element of surprise on my side – even if Marcone heard rumors about me being a wizard he could hardly take them seriously. My hands itched to demonstrate him why you shouldn’t strong-arm your friendly neighborhood magus into your car, but discretion that Johnny had been painstakingly instilling in me for years prevailed. No need to preemptively antagonize the local crime lord – it wouldn’t bode well for my chances of undisturbed life in the city.
Internal debates resolved I pasted the best business smile on my face and got in the car. “Pleased to meet you.”
Marcone smirked, clearly taking my ready compliance as a sign of intimidation. I clenched my teeth – what little of my fear still remained was quickly transforming into anger. It further solidified while I listened to an offer of a paid vacation for the next couple of weeks. My admittedly limited amount of patience ran out when my ‘fee’ was raised for the third time.
“I don’t need you money!” I exploded, instantly frying the car’s radio. “Or government’s money for that matter. I don’t think you understand what happened, John.” I almost cringed at the inherent wrongness of calling this… stranger by that name and made a note to always address him as Marcone. “Those people were killed using magic. That means that neither police with their laws and regulations nor you and your big guns will be able to handle whoever’s doing it. This is on my side of the fence and I am the only one equipped with power and knowledge to solve it.” Not to mention, I’m the one with my head on the chopping block as a prime suspect for the murders in the eyes of White Council. “Luckily for you I’m already hired so you won’t even have to pay for my services in solving this matter, and trust me, you’ll need professional help with this one.”
During my little speech Marcone listened intently and somewhere at the back of my head I had an uncomfortable feeling of being unscrambled and thoroughly analyzed. He took in everything – my words, my aborted gestures, my expressions… it was quite unsettling.
I was relieved to see that we were just a block away from my office building so Marcone didn’t have time to object.
“Oh, look how time flies!” I exclaimed with exaggerated surprise glancing out of the window. “Seems it’s my stop already. It was a pleasure meeting you, and if you ever need my help don’t hesitate to make an appointment in my office during business hours,” I advised with a hint of reproach. Then without waiting for his driver – a guy so large he seemed to have trouble just folding into a car – to pull up, I sent my will into the engine. To my great satisfaction it coughed pitifully and died.
“Thanks for the ride!” I said cheerfully and got out of.
Judging by the absence of gunshots from behind me either Marcone was too surprised by my brazen attitude or too polite to have a shootout in the middle of the street.
It was only when I passed third floor on my way up that I became aware of a very disturbing fact. Usually I’m very careful about looking other people in the eye – a moment too long and I’m inadvertently thrown into their souls. But during my talk with Marcone I held his gaze for an awfully long time without triggering a soulgaze.
~!~
whew, I had fun writing this. Hope I didn’t disappoint those who’d waited for the fateful first meeting XD
I’m still not going to rewrite Storm Front, just a couple of scenes with Morgan (whom I love, btw).
“Can I help you gentlemen?” I asked politely looking around for cops and finding none. I mean, come on, the crime scene is just two steps away – where is everybody when you need some mundane protection?
“Get in the car,” one of the men growled in what he presumed to be a threatening manner. Unfortunately for him I was mostly amused – he couldn’t hold a candle to Morgan on a good day. The second man moved to the Caddy and opened the rear door.
“And why would I want to do that?” I infused my voice with sincere curiosity at the same time readying my force-rings in case I had to demonstrate some magically-powered aikido moves.
“Mr. Dresden,” came a voice from inside the car, “I was hoping to discuss a business proposition with you. Would you like a lift to your office?”
“And you would be?” I made a few tentative steps to the open door and bent down to look inside.
“My name is John Marcone.”
Right. I should have guessed.
It was ironic in a twisted way to meet a person who was a criminal in the eyes of mundane law. On the one hand I could be considered a criminal myself; on the other Gentleman Johnny had done no wrong on my side of the fence. He was also a man of principles that were much more rigid that was common for his line of work and in an abstract kind of way I could almost respect it.
The man himself was an epitome of casualness: sports jacket and jeans, relaxed posture, a welcoming expression and smile-creases in the corners of his eyes. All that didn’t really disguise the sense of power not that much unlike my own – an almost physical manifestation of a strong will.
I reminded myself that if I wasn’t afraid of a big bad Warden, then I shouldn’t get scared of a plain vanilla mortal. Even if he was a mafia kingpin. And had goons. Who most assuredly had an assortment of deadly weapons stashed under their ill-fitting suit jackets… Way to reassure yourself, Harry!
I quickly reminded myself that I wasn’t all that helpless either. In fact, I had an element of surprise on my side – even if Marcone heard rumors about me being a wizard he could hardly take them seriously. My hands itched to demonstrate him why you shouldn’t strong-arm your friendly neighborhood magus into your car, but discretion that Johnny had been painstakingly instilling in me for years prevailed. No need to preemptively antagonize the local crime lord – it wouldn’t bode well for my chances of undisturbed life in the city.
Internal debates resolved I pasted the best business smile on my face and got in the car. “Pleased to meet you.”
Marcone smirked, clearly taking my ready compliance as a sign of intimidation. I clenched my teeth – what little of my fear still remained was quickly transforming into anger. It further solidified while I listened to an offer of a paid vacation for the next couple of weeks. My admittedly limited amount of patience ran out when my ‘fee’ was raised for the third time.
“I don’t need you money!” I exploded, instantly frying the car’s radio. “Or government’s money for that matter. I don’t think you understand what happened, John.” I almost cringed at the inherent wrongness of calling this… stranger by that name and made a note to always address him as Marcone. “Those people were killed using magic. That means that neither police with their laws and regulations nor you and your big guns will be able to handle whoever’s doing it. This is on my side of the fence and I am the only one equipped with power and knowledge to solve it.” Not to mention, I’m the one with my head on the chopping block as a prime suspect for the murders in the eyes of White Council. “Luckily for you I’m already hired so you won’t even have to pay for my services in solving this matter, and trust me, you’ll need professional help with this one.”
During my little speech Marcone listened intently and somewhere at the back of my head I had an uncomfortable feeling of being unscrambled and thoroughly analyzed. He took in everything – my words, my aborted gestures, my expressions… it was quite unsettling.
I was relieved to see that we were just a block away from my office building so Marcone didn’t have time to object.
“Oh, look how time flies!” I exclaimed with exaggerated surprise glancing out of the window. “Seems it’s my stop already. It was a pleasure meeting you, and if you ever need my help don’t hesitate to make an appointment in my office during business hours,” I advised with a hint of reproach. Then without waiting for his driver – a guy so large he seemed to have trouble just folding into a car – to pull up, I sent my will into the engine. To my great satisfaction it coughed pitifully and died.
“Thanks for the ride!” I said cheerfully and got out of.
Judging by the absence of gunshots from behind me either Marcone was too surprised by my brazen attitude or too polite to have a shootout in the middle of the street.
It was only when I passed third floor on my way up that I became aware of a very disturbing fact. Usually I’m very careful about looking other people in the eye – a moment too long and I’m inadvertently thrown into their souls. But during my talk with Marcone I held his gaze for an awfully long time without triggering a soulgaze.
whew, I had fun writing this. Hope I didn’t disappoint those who’d waited for the fateful first meeting XD
I’m still not going to rewrite Storm Front, just a couple of scenes with Morgan (whom I love, btw).
He let me sleep for a while after that, and Stephanie woke me up for dinner with Maggie. Maggie continued not to talk, but sometimes nodded or shook her head to something I said, and clung to Mouse like he was the best and biggest teddy bear anyone had ever had. You could see her point: teddy bears can't usually rip bad guys' throats out or give horsey rides.
She went to her room for bed, but sometime in the night she woke up with nightmares and Mouse brought her back. For all that she didn't really know me, I'd made a hell of a first impression, and she'd apparently been out of it through the part where I killed Susan. Demonstrating at least that not quite everyone up there hates me.
When Michael woke me up the next day she was gone again.
He'd brought over some toys and things that his girls had outgrown, and had already given them to Maggie. He'd seen her the first day as well, and had talked to the woman, not a nanny after all, who was looking after her. Bethany Hunter was a single mother who'd put all three of her kids through college after her husband died in a shootout and who now ran Marcone's household. Michael had liked her a lot, which is about all of a personal recommendation I usually need. He said she said Marcone said that Maggie would have a full time carer soon, but they were still looking. She'd also informed Michael that she had a sister who was lesbian and that she wouldn't hear a word against Mr. Marcone and had called me “poor thing" so that was...good.
Michael seemed kind of amused by all that and assured me sincerely that love was love and so on until I threatened to try and get up and hit him. He stopped to keep me from hurting myself, I know, but whatever works.
Murphy had been calling him and Butters regularly to find out how I was, but wouldn't be visiting any time soon. Her concussion hadn't been too bad, but “She's angry, and worried, and frustrated that she can't get you out of this" he told me.
“I'm fine." Then I corrected that to “I will be fine" as Michael gave me his 'don't lie to me' look. It didn't go away. “It's-" It has to be fine, because I'm stuck with it. “He's not that bad." Great. That sounded good. Zero to Stockholm Syndrome in how long had it been? How long did it usually take?
“Harry" he sighed. “We're all worried. I know he's not a truly evil man but from what you've told Molly, even with the best of intentions binding spells always do damage to their victim. “
I rubbed at my neck. Just after the ritual, Gard had told us that to her True Sight I was wearing a steel gorget around my throat, bracers on my forearms. They were carved with runes and glowing with power. None of them had buckles or latches for removal. All of them had a chain attached, dangling down immaterially through nearly any obstacles into the earth beneath us. To her Sight, when Marcone stood next to me, he lightly wrapped his hand in my leash and I lowered my head and leaned into the contact. Hearing it I'd looked away in humiliation until he caught my chin and I'd leaned into it, helplessly comforted, while he told Viaggiatore he was pleased with the results. Should my land speed record to Stockholm Syndrome be timed to then?
She'd described dark bruises spreading out from under the metal at my wrists, testimony that my inner self had struggled, but they were nothing compared to the holes in people's heads or the barbed wire around their souls that I'd seen elsewhere. Nothing compared to the old scars and half healed wounds she said I'd already borne. No big deal. “We all get hurt.” I told Michael, giving a pointed look to his cane. “Price of doing business. Can we talk about something else?” I'd survive.
And I did. Life went on. My injuries healed faster than they ever had. I all but drank in magic from the surrounding area, tapping the leylines and natural flows of power with instinctive ease. Gard gave me schematics of the warding spells at the house and various other places Marcone wanted protected while I was still on bed rest, and Bob and I had worked out modification and improvements, some that she could do and some that would have to wait.
Maggie started talking and got a bit less skittish. We still didn't really know what to do with each other but she and Mouse were all but inseparable and she smiled when she caught sight of the couple members of the 'Za Lord's Guards that followed her whenever she left the house. Along with the bodyguard, a human woman with a magical gift for spotting danger. A good trick, and I was kind of envious even after Thomas remarked that I could generally spot danger by spinning in a circle and pointing at random. It follows me around.
Thomas was speaking to me again. It took him a week or so after the fight; he said he'd needed to think. He'd been thrown by how much control he'd lost since leaving the hair salon and Justine had strongly encouraged him to go back. Lara wasn't able to persuade him not to. That being the case, John was willing to let him into the house, and seemed a lot less frosty toward him than he had been in the past. Thomas, in return, was practically friendly. He said it was about time someone dragged me into decent living conditions.
And if there were long days I spent curled up around my grief and guilt and Maggie if she happened to be there, so what? They got less common. If she was in with me, John would come in in the evenings and read to her. He never came in when I was alone at night, although he'd pause sometimes at the door, especially on bad nights. He never touched me. I was caught in a confusion between relief and longing, wanting the remembered the heat of his hand but not the exposure of his finding that out.
It was ridiculous to find his presence comforting. It was stupid to think I could trust someone I was so utterly dependent on. I'd known better since Justin. Even Eb had lied to me, made me think he was someone completely different from who he was. The security guards would have killed us if they could have but the hundreds of human servants on Duke Ortega's estate had been murdered. And he chose to use a cherished memory of what passed for my childhood to do it. It was meaningless to anyone else; how could he have known me little enough to think I'd appreciate it?
I'd known John Marcone for years and he'd never really lied to me; his first act on meeting me was a revelation of who he was. He didn't need to lie to me now; I couldn't oppose him. I knew the worst of what he was going into this. His heartbeat lulled me to sleep at night and his hands had been gentle, both of them dragging me toward life and away from despair.
My instincts kept me waiting for the other shoe to drop anyway. I didn't know how much of what I was feeling was genuine trust and how much was the spell's compulsion. He'd given me far more than he'd promised, so he could still take that away, no matter what he'd said. But he hadn't yet.
She went to her room for bed, but sometime in the night she woke up with nightmares and Mouse brought her back. For all that she didn't really know me, I'd made a hell of a first impression, and she'd apparently been out of it through the part where I killed Susan. Demonstrating at least that not quite everyone up there hates me.
When Michael woke me up the next day she was gone again.
He'd brought over some toys and things that his girls had outgrown, and had already given them to Maggie. He'd seen her the first day as well, and had talked to the woman, not a nanny after all, who was looking after her. Bethany Hunter was a single mother who'd put all three of her kids through college after her husband died in a shootout and who now ran Marcone's household. Michael had liked her a lot, which is about all of a personal recommendation I usually need. He said she said Marcone said that Maggie would have a full time carer soon, but they were still looking. She'd also informed Michael that she had a sister who was lesbian and that she wouldn't hear a word against Mr. Marcone and had called me “poor thing" so that was...good.
Michael seemed kind of amused by all that and assured me sincerely that love was love and so on until I threatened to try and get up and hit him. He stopped to keep me from hurting myself, I know, but whatever works.
Murphy had been calling him and Butters regularly to find out how I was, but wouldn't be visiting any time soon. Her concussion hadn't been too bad, but “She's angry, and worried, and frustrated that she can't get you out of this" he told me.
“I'm fine." Then I corrected that to “I will be fine" as Michael gave me his 'don't lie to me' look. It didn't go away. “It's-" It has to be fine, because I'm stuck with it. “He's not that bad." Great. That sounded good. Zero to Stockholm Syndrome in how long had it been? How long did it usually take?
“Harry" he sighed. “We're all worried. I know he's not a truly evil man but from what you've told Molly, even with the best of intentions binding spells always do damage to their victim. “
I rubbed at my neck. Just after the ritual, Gard had told us that to her True Sight I was wearing a steel gorget around my throat, bracers on my forearms. They were carved with runes and glowing with power. None of them had buckles or latches for removal. All of them had a chain attached, dangling down immaterially through nearly any obstacles into the earth beneath us. To her Sight, when Marcone stood next to me, he lightly wrapped his hand in my leash and I lowered my head and leaned into the contact. Hearing it I'd looked away in humiliation until he caught my chin and I'd leaned into it, helplessly comforted, while he told Viaggiatore he was pleased with the results. Should my land speed record to Stockholm Syndrome be timed to then?
She'd described dark bruises spreading out from under the metal at my wrists, testimony that my inner self had struggled, but they were nothing compared to the holes in people's heads or the barbed wire around their souls that I'd seen elsewhere. Nothing compared to the old scars and half healed wounds she said I'd already borne. No big deal. “We all get hurt.” I told Michael, giving a pointed look to his cane. “Price of doing business. Can we talk about something else?” I'd survive.
And I did. Life went on. My injuries healed faster than they ever had. I all but drank in magic from the surrounding area, tapping the leylines and natural flows of power with instinctive ease. Gard gave me schematics of the warding spells at the house and various other places Marcone wanted protected while I was still on bed rest, and Bob and I had worked out modification and improvements, some that she could do and some that would have to wait.
Maggie started talking and got a bit less skittish. We still didn't really know what to do with each other but she and Mouse were all but inseparable and she smiled when she caught sight of the couple members of the 'Za Lord's Guards that followed her whenever she left the house. Along with the bodyguard, a human woman with a magical gift for spotting danger. A good trick, and I was kind of envious even after Thomas remarked that I could generally spot danger by spinning in a circle and pointing at random. It follows me around.
Thomas was speaking to me again. It took him a week or so after the fight; he said he'd needed to think. He'd been thrown by how much control he'd lost since leaving the hair salon and Justine had strongly encouraged him to go back. Lara wasn't able to persuade him not to. That being the case, John was willing to let him into the house, and seemed a lot less frosty toward him than he had been in the past. Thomas, in return, was practically friendly. He said it was about time someone dragged me into decent living conditions.
And if there were long days I spent curled up around my grief and guilt and Maggie if she happened to be there, so what? They got less common. If she was in with me, John would come in in the evenings and read to her. He never came in when I was alone at night, although he'd pause sometimes at the door, especially on bad nights. He never touched me. I was caught in a confusion between relief and longing, wanting the remembered the heat of his hand but not the exposure of his finding that out.
It was ridiculous to find his presence comforting. It was stupid to think I could trust someone I was so utterly dependent on. I'd known better since Justin. Even Eb had lied to me, made me think he was someone completely different from who he was. The security guards would have killed us if they could have but the hundreds of human servants on Duke Ortega's estate had been murdered. And he chose to use a cherished memory of what passed for my childhood to do it. It was meaningless to anyone else; how could he have known me little enough to think I'd appreciate it?
I'd known John Marcone for years and he'd never really lied to me; his first act on meeting me was a revelation of who he was. He didn't need to lie to me now; I couldn't oppose him. I knew the worst of what he was going into this. His heartbeat lulled me to sleep at night and his hands had been gentle, both of them dragging me toward life and away from despair.
My instincts kept me waiting for the other shoe to drop anyway. I didn't know how much of what I was feeling was genuine trust and how much was the spell's compulsion. He'd given me far more than he'd promised, so he could still take that away, no matter what he'd said. But he hadn't yet.
I really really hope we get more of this soon, because its wonderful!
Now I'm curious as to why there was no soulgaze!
Harry leaning into Marcone and finding his presence comforting makes my inner self go aww and sigh.
And Michael! Michael being amused and teasing Harry had me giggling.
And Michael! Michael being amused and teasing Harry had me giggling.
My apologies for potentially spamming inboxes, however these would make one very LONG entry if I tried to combine them into "options," and this is going to be long enough already. The only generalized theme I can think of is "creeper," since these would be absolutely creepy if they happened in RL - and the thought of it makes my skin crawl (it'd be more like a horror fill than a kink fill if I thought of it that way). So, fair warning anons, these prompts take an abrupt left turn at reality, and don't come back. Examples from other fandoms (typically HP, since I can't seem to stop sorting through the crap that fandom spits out to find crap with something interesting, and occasional gems) included where possible, in case I fail at explaining something. This is not asking to repeat the fics with different characters, but to give a basic guideline for the kink itself.
If any of this is unacceptable or unwanted in this meme, please let me know. I have simply noticed a lack of creeper fic here (with a few notable exceptions!), and am hoping to fill the gap. Once it's mentioned this type of prompt is unwelcome, I'll stop posting them.
Pairing: any male/Harry. Slash preferred, obviously. Threesomes welcome, as well as pairings and OTPs.
Kink: Baby play enhanced by toys. Specifically, one character being treated as an infant by the other, albeit a 'baby' they often have sex with. Preferred constant baby play over a period of time (ie: a weekend off or a vacation of baby-play round the clock) with prolonged toy-play. Exhibitionism NOT required (or even particularly wanted, but I'll go with it). Dubcon/Noncon/consensual all acceptable. All "toys" acceptable, including enema play, bottle-feeding, diaper-changing, CBT, plugs, spankings, clothing-denial, what-have-you.
Examples: By LovelyPair2, HP fandom, non-con, Draco/Harry. (http://hp.adultfanfiction.net/story.php?no=600008438)
By WeirdMe, HP fandom, consensual, Hermione/Ron/Harry. (http://hp.adultfanfiction.net/story.php?no=600015824)
I will attempt to spread these out over the night, and maybe the next few days, so that the spam isn't as obvious. Sorry.
If any of this is unacceptable or unwanted in this meme, please let me know. I have simply noticed a lack of creeper fic here (with a few notable exceptions!), and am hoping to fill the gap. Once it's mentioned this type of prompt is unwelcome, I'll stop posting them.
Pairing: any male/Harry. Slash preferred, obviously. Threesomes welcome, as well as pairings and OTPs.
Kink: Baby play enhanced by toys. Specifically, one character being treated as an infant by the other, albeit a 'baby' they often have sex with. Preferred constant baby play over a period of time (ie: a weekend off or a vacation of baby-play round the clock) with prolonged toy-play. Exhibitionism NOT required (or even particularly wanted, but I'll go with it). Dubcon/Noncon/consensual all acceptable. All "toys" acceptable, including enema play, bottle-feeding, diaper-changing, CBT, plugs, spankings, clothing-denial, what-have-you.
Examples: By LovelyPair2, HP fandom, non-con, Draco/Harry. (http://hp.adultfanfiction.net/story.php?no=600008438)
By WeirdMe, HP fandom, consensual, Hermione/Ron/Harry. (http://hp.adultfanfiction.net/story.php?no=600015824)
I will attempt to spread these out over the night, and maybe the next few days, so that the spam isn't as obvious. Sorry.
Micheal is great and I just want to hug Harry. He always expects the worst.
Love that Marcone is 'inexplicably' nicer to Thomas now. Love that Eb being Harry's grandfather isn't an altogether positive revelation (which is exactly how I feel about it).
Poor Harry and his trust issues. Makes for a great fic, though. :)
Poor Harry and his trust issues. Makes for a great fic, though. :)
If shamelessly begging helps, I'm more than willing to do so.
Please please please, authornon?
Please please please, authornon?
Harry's reaction to his bond is doing Things to me.
So many details I want to pick out and admire. Like how Harry's still wary of Marcone, but acknowledges his respect for him. And how this makes him more explanatory and less antagonistic. And how he cooks the car engine, just because he can. So much love.
And what a way to handle the soulgaze (that wasn't)! It's surprising that someone normally so careful about eye contact wouldn't even notice until afterwards, but perhaps it's a subconscious connection? I like where this is going.
And what a way to handle the soulgaze (that wasn't)! It's surprising that someone normally so careful about eye contact wouldn't even notice until afterwards, but perhaps it's a subconscious connection? I like where this is going.
Does Harry have an unusual connection with one of the horses? More?
Maybe a rescue horse that only lets Harry work with him? That would be fun. :)
In other words - Seconded. :)
Maybe a rescue horse that only lets Harry work with him? That would be fun. :)
In other words - Seconded. :)
Marcone manages to make a magic safe fuck machine. Its for Harry.
....
seconded.
kink!meme, you have stolen my shame.
seconded.
kink!meme, you have stolen my shame.
I think it's a tribute to just how much crazy Harry's dragged into Billy's life that That Halloween has been reduced to 'the thing with the dinosaur.' And Corpsetaker returns! *excited*
But Harry's whole interaction with Billy was just excellent in a hilarious way. Love it!
But Harry's whole interaction with Billy was just excellent in a hilarious way. Love it!
Slightly paraphrased line from one of my fav fics: "I'm not a fucking fucking machine, Harry."
But what if, at least for a little while, he were?
John/Harry, fucking machines... sort of.
But what if, at least for a little while, he were?
John/Harry, fucking machines... sort of.
Oh Harry! You've made us ache for him in this bit. You've done a brilliant job showing his despair and confusion--how much he longs to be comforted even as a part of him can't conceive of accepting it.
And Marcone, I can't help wondering what he's feeling about all this-- he has Harry within his power but it's got to be nothing like he expected. I can see John weighing everything he says or does in light of his new knowledge, whether it's allowing Thomas in his home or deciding when he can be alone with Harry.
Another brilliant installment.
And Marcone, I can't help wondering what he's feeling about all this-- he has Harry within his power but it's got to be nothing like he expected. I can see John weighing everything he says or does in light of his new knowledge, whether it's allowing Thomas in his home or deciding when he can be alone with Harry.
Another brilliant installment.
OP says lol. Great mindsish, one-prompt-back-OP.
Ooh, maybe waterwheel-powered all mechanical parts with no electronics?
Some of my favorite parts of the books are the ones where Harry gets all introspective and reflective before or after the action hits. So good to see that on the meme too.
I like the detail that Harry's bound to Chicago rather than directly to Marcone, and how his symbols of service are armor rather than an out-and-out collar and cuffs. And his interaction with Marcone! Had to read it over more than once because I loved it so much.
I like the detail that Harry's bound to Chicago rather than directly to Marcone, and how his symbols of service are armor rather than an out-and-out collar and cuffs. And his interaction with Marcone! Had to read it over more than once because I loved it so much.
So does Corpsetaker try to possess Maggie Jr. while she is in the womb? New body ahoy!
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