scribe_protra | Round 2 is closed.

I noticed, but I wasn't going to say anything. It seemed rude... :D

But no, that's not it. Promise!

Oh goodness, I'm in love with this.

It makes me think a bit how Harry's attitude towards casual sex would be different if he were a woman. Would she still be all about sex needing to mean something, or would years of knowing that, as a woman, she's expected to think that change her mind?

That is possible, I suppose, but I think Harry would see that as being too close to danger. I mean, the supernatural world knows that she's close to that family and if the Carpenters were to suddenly get another kid, with dark hair and eyes, they would be a little suspicious.

I remember someone pointing out (haven't read Changes myself D: ) that Susan's visiting Maggie was partly what got them into trouble and that Harry knew that. Of course, this was several years down the line when Harry was much more mature. But still, I like to think Harry'd know what was best for the safety of her child even then. And anyway the Carpenters would know then and I want Harry to have repressed/kept the entire pregnancy secret. For optimum sadness!

You sound a lot like you care! And why don't you get shirty with people who have long meta discussions or get all "seconded", "thirded", "fourtheded"-y in comment threads?

This fandom is like a zillionty times bigger than a lot of fandoms out there, c'mon.

This wank is boring and crusty. I would like a new one, please. :( In b4 no1curr.

My take is that Harry still wants sex to mean something-- that she still needs a connection and needs some kind of... well, reason to think the person isn't going to use the personal connection to hurt her.

Canon!Harry, for various reasons, is all about sex that means something, which makes a lot of sense. Given how much of his life is... well, he's spent a lot of it with people fucking with his mind, trying to deprive him of agency, for whom he was an object or something to be used and sex does make you vulnerable. It makes sense that he want to be able to trust someone's character*, that anyone that he lets that close should be someone he'd want to be close to.

Not that I think he thinks about it that much and I suspect most of this is on a much more lizard-brain level.

My take on a female Harry is much the same, but with possibly (I'd hope) with more of a fuck-you attitude to attempts at controlling her sex life. That is, she still, on the whole, gets off on having that connection, feels she can relax more if she's fucking someone she trusts, but with a hearty fuck-off at anyone that tries to judge her sex life (or lack thereof), at anyone that tries to leverage whether she does or doesn't into some kind of power. And sometimes she wants to get laid.

*Which is not to say that he has to trust 100% of their motivations or potential actions.

See previous: If you actually gave a damn, you would have pm'ed the mod instead of starting shit in the comments. This is a kink meme; if you're going to wank, at least have the courtesy to fic it.

The kitchen, lacking windows, was pitch dark after I blew out the lights. The ambient noise of the ceiling fan, the fridge, it was gone. For a moment, I just listened to my own hard breathing, grateful for the loss of sight and sound. It was a balm to all the turbulent emotions I had coursing through me.

Speaking of...

What the hell was that?

I took a shaky breath. "I don't... I don't know why I said that. It wasn't... I made a deal with her. I don't even remember much of what happened, not really." Just her lips like frozen raspberries against my chest as I hung there by my arms. The chill of the air around me and way some of my blood didn't fall into her bowls but ran down my arms, sticky hot along my skin. That was all.

Except now that I thought about it, recalled what happened for the first time in years, I could remembering limply twitching away from the rake of her claw-like nails and how cold her hands were even as heat stirred in my body. Her kissing me, and how I couldn't kiss back because I was so dazzled by the glamour. How she licked her lips like she was savoring me and called me "sweet." How...

I jumped at the light when John struck a match and set it to a candle he'd dug out of somewhere. It was a dim glow in the darkness, illuminating only a few feet around us.

I looked up at John, unsure.

He stared back at me, face tight and somehow pained. "What're you thinking, Harry?"

"Your eyes look like a forest fire in this candlelight," I murmured. Huh. They did, kind of, the way yellow and orange caught in his pupil, circled by that cool green. I hadn't noticed before. Or, I thought I hadn't noticed.

John was still watching me avidly. I could see him working away at something in his head. Whatever it was, he was turning it over slowly, thoroughly, and didn't say anything for a while.

He nodded to himself, then said very precisely. "Your godmother took advantage of you. Have you or have you not been hurt similarly by anyone else?"

"I have." I had? I had no idea. "No, it's not like that. I-I don't think of it like that, John."

He didn't eyebrow at me or smirk or anything. His gaze on my face was starting to feel too intense. I looked away, at the candle. "It would appear you do."

"What Lea did... If she did anything, it was part of the ritual she performed on me. I gave her my life. I knew what I was getting into."

I saw him grimace out of the corner of my eye, mouth turning down into a deeply displeased frown. "And that means it shouldn't matter?"

"I don't know."

"You can't possibly think that. Harry. Harry." His hand curled around my head, fingers twining in my hair and pulling me so I'd look at him. "Who else hurt you?"

"Justin. Bianca, her Court. Lash when she was Shelia. Mab." I shuddered as the compulsion drew more out of me.

"And what did they do to--"

I fell forward, trying to get my hands over his mouth to muffle him. I was suddenly frantic, just wanting it all to go away. The candle tipped over as I got to John, one hand over his mouth, the other planted against the island so I could lean over to him. "Stop. Just stop." My voice cracked a little.

John pulled my hand away, face quietly furious and vengeful. "Have you ever told anyone?"

"No," I snapped. "How could I? It's not the sort of thing you just bring up in conversation!" I tried to yank my wrist out of his grip, movements jerky and not exactly coordinated. "I burned Justin for what he did to me and the goddamn Council tried to hang me for it! Why would I say anything after that?!" John's eyes widened and I succeeded in getting loose form him. I stood and leaned on his chair, half-snarling at him. The anger just poured out of me before I could stop it. "He was a father to me and he invaded my mind and they-- they still look at me like I'm some kind of timebomb!"

John put his hand over mine, trying to make me release what was probably a bruising grip on his shoulder. "Harry, calm down."

"And who should I have told about Lash? If Michael-- he'd kill me if he found out she was in my head, screwing with me! And it's kind of difficult to talk about being passed around by Bianca's people. It's not exactly something you can just casually mention." I was dimly aware of the fact I was shaking, shaking hard enough John reached out and grabbed my arm like he was worried I'd fall. "And Mab-- fuck, by now what does it matter? Anyone else wants a piece of me, they can have Justin's sloppy thirteenths!"

"Harry!" John grabbed my face with both hands, pulling me. I overbalanced and fell against him, nearly in his lap. "Harry, stop!"

I did. I went silent just like that. No compulsion.

I didn't know when Lea's charm stopped and I kept going.

"Oh fuck," I whispered. My eyes stung and I shut them tight. "Oh Christ, I... I didn't..."

John put his arms around me and lowered me down. He moved with me and we both ended up on the tile floor. His legs folded under him and I lay against him, my head on his chest. It wasn't fair, to lean on him like that after I... After I did whatever I just did. Freaked out, to put it mildly.

I got my arms under me and pushed to sit up. John's arms around my chest tightened, holding me still, and he made some nonsense noise at me, soothing me.

He was always doing that. Offering me help and comforts beyond what I expected out of a not-quite-friend-with-benefits.

Winter already owned me. Indulging in what the Baron-Lord was offering could not make my life any more difficult. He couldn't hurt me anymore than anyone else had.

I put my head back down and shut my eyes.

if you're going to wank, at least have the courtesy to fic it.

This should be a rule.

Ohmygoodness.

I'm trying to come up with a coherent review, but I think that pretty much sums it up.

I see Marcone as Snape...

owwwwwww

(that's a compliment)

The whole time I was reading this I was thinking, wow this is really good, I honestly wasn't expecting this from the prompt. It wasn't until after I was finished and thought about it for a minute that it really hit me how sad it was. Because, I mean, I knew how bad, how traumatic Harry's childhood and even adult life has been but I guess it never really sunk in until right now?

And now I'm really upset and my throat hurts and I'm crying, and I'm so freaking glad that this fandom has writers like you.

Gods. This fill makes me want to cry. Poor Harry.

No input on the rule two thing, but as the first reccer anon, I'm sorry if I was discouraging fills! Multiple fills are a thing of awesomeness, and this prompt deserves a good new fic to call its own. I only brought this rec up because it was a) really close to specifications and b) a tv-verse Harry/Bob that I suspected was somewhat outside of the scope of a lot of people on the meme.

/tl;dr.

I also love this - I'm kind of incoherent right now, and I should get some sleep, but this is rad and you are rad.

Want me to delete this Writer Nonnie?

I'm a big.... not "fan" but subscriber to the idea that 99% of Harry's Issues can be traced back to the various traumatic events of his childhood and reinforced by the horrific stuff he goes through as an adult. I like examining the effects.

Aw, I'm sorry to make you cry, anon! I promise the final segment won't be so dark. :hugs: Thank you.

(writernon again)

Lol, no problem - we don't have a lot of characterization to go on with Nick, so I read the short story and was like "Well...now I need him to actually have a personality." So I do admit to having spun an interpretation that is definitely less than flattering. I also confess to some hastiness with kink meme fills in general that does lead to this kind of misunderstanding, where I know exactly what I meant and it just...doesn't come out that way. I'm working on it, and generally I edit these and eventually I may deanon and post them to my lj, in better form.

I'm starting to have my own doubts in that area, and generally agree with you on every point. Homophobia in particular is a pretty big trigger for me, as are the consent issues for reasons previously mentioned.

(Also, I lol'd at your last sentence. It would take less time for me, but be more expensive: I have an e-reader and I know how to use it.)

(writernon)

You know, I look at it as one of two things:

1) Butcher is really, really good at writing three-dimensional, flawed characters with issues and problems, including an unreliable narrator who not everyone is going to like.

2) Butcher is actually misogynistic/ablist/other and doesn't even realize he's tainting at least his narrator with his views.

I tend to lean towards 1 for my sanity and so I can keep reading without kind of hating Butcher for building this intricate world and polluting it with author prejudices. Intentional or not, I always find flawed characters interesting to read. Of course, my definition of a flawed character is pretty precise: not "single negative character trait and very few traits in general," those are stereotypes. I don't think Dresden fits perfectly into any stereotype, though I'd probably call him a medieval romance knight if you made me pick one, with a dash of film noir detective if I was allowed secondary traits. He actually is a lot more than that, though...

And I'm getting into meta/discussion. So I'll just leave it at: yes, there are lots of problems in DF, and I'm aware of many of them, as is much of fandom. But I'd argue that it improves the realism of the world without making it hateful.

I would argue one and two are not mutually exclusive and Butcher portrays his characters as flawed and complicated but also has issues in his own writing. But that's me.

Because I like lolpairings, I was mentally searching for the weirdest combination of injured/carer.

I think Odin/Butters. But maybe Gard/Butters or Marcone/Murphy. You just want to know why that ever happened |D

Well, yeah, that too. But I like setting up false dichotomies C:

Later, we both sat on the sofa in one of the sitting rooms. John was watching me as I leaned tiredly against the seat back with my legs bent in front of me. I felt oddly... young. I would've thought being confronted with all the terrible things that I'd lived though would make me feel ancient, but the effect was the opposite. For the first time in years, I thought about my father, about that easy comfort of having someone who cared about to give you support when you needed it most.

I lifted my head to look over my knees at John.

He inclined his head at me. "I'm sorry for forcing you to talk about it."

I shook my head. "At the end, it wasn't you doing it, it was me."

"Still." He put his hand on my ankle, thumb rubbing slow circles over my skin. He made no attempt to move closer, and for the moment I was really thankful for that. I felt too... unbalanced for that. "If it would make things easier for you, I would have myself charmed like you've been. To even the playing field."

I snorted shallowly. "Yeah, okay."

"I would."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "It would help you."

"Again. Why?" John was possibly the most powerful vanilla mortal in the world. Giving up his ability to lie, letting himself be compelled to tell the truth and then some, it didn't make sense. It was so dangerous.

He just smiled in a soft, secretive way. I wanted to ask what the hell was going on, but he spoke first. "If you require someone to... speak to, I know a few people." At my blank look, he sighed and elaborated: "Therapists, Harry. I have the names of a few clued-in individuals who provide their services to my people."

A shrink? Seriously? The idea was kind of a joke. How could I talk to someone who was listening for cash? Someone I didn't even know, I couldn't trust them. No, if I was going to talk to someone...

I looked at John and thought about it. The truth charm had dragged up a lot of things I had no idea what to do with. It was all too big, like finding that garden Lea planted on the flipside of my old apartment. I didn't exactly know how I felt. How do you go your whole life not knowing about-- or, I guess, flat-out ignoring-- such a massive part of yourself and then deal with it? When you lied to yourself that long...

Oh hell's bells, was that it? Was that my lesson?

I had a way to be sure.

"Hey." I poked John with my foot. "Ask me what the lesson was."

"What was the lesson?"

I sighed, and felt Lea's magic take my voice. "Lying to others is bad enough on its own, but lying to myself is worse. I've been tearing myself apart and at this rate, I'm going to be the shortest-lived Winter Knight ever." I thought about that and nodded. It made sense. Lea cared about me as much as a faerie could and didn't want me to let myself die. And that... that might've been the path I was on right now.

At least now I knew it. That was a start, and the start was the hardest part.

I met John's gaze, calmer if not quite all right. I thought I could get to 'all right' though. With time. "Ask me if I want to talk about..." I waved a hand, encompassing all the crap I'd been through.

John's smile was sad, but his hand was still warm on my skin. "Do you want to talk about what happened to you?"

The answer wasn't immediate, the compulsion working more slowly. "Yeah." I swallowed. "Not right now though?"

"All right. In your own time." His fingers ran higher under my pant leg, sweeping up and down my calf.

I unbent my legs and scooted down the sofa, closer to him. "I think Lea's spell is breaking. Do you want to ask me anything else?"

John's pupils dilated just like that, his lips parting with a startled inhale. The offer hit him deep. "Why would..." He stopped and revised, cutting out the question. "You'd let me do that."

I nodded. "Yeah. I mean, you already dealt with me breaking down all over you. And you, you'd really take an honesty spell if you could?"

"Yes." He shifted to turn towards me, one arm sliding along the back of the sofa and around my shoulders. "A trade, then. I'll ask something of you and you in return can ask anything of me and I'll endeavor to answer as truthfully as I can."

That sounded too good to be true. It was heady and foolish and I wouldn't have agreed to it if all the honesty so far hadn't rubbed me raw and left me wanting something in return. "Okay."

John's fingers danced along my hairline, tracing curves and patterns into my skin. His eyes on me were rapt, unwavering. "I've wondered for some time... You're quite accomplished at sending mixed signals. What am I to you, Mr. Dresden?"

Oh. I wasn't sure. Hell, I had no idea. "You're my lifeline. I think I'd go crazy without you. When I'm with you, Mab's influence isn't so strong." I leaned my head into his hand, exhaling slowly as he massaged my scalp. "I don't have to be a Warden or a Knight here. You never wanted that, even back when we first met. You just wanted me and that's kind of creepy, but I get it. It works for us." By the time I went quiet, I could feel Lea's charm unraveling from my voice. Lesson learned, I suppose.

John looked... pleased. Content or maybe validated by my answer. "Thank you. Your turn, I believe."

I didn't know what I wanted to ask him. I didn't want to betray the trust he'd given me. I didn't want to take advantage, considering he'd surprised the hell out of me by not using my charm against me. I wasn't sure what was important enough that I wanted to know.

But there was something I was dying to know...

I asked quietly, "Why would you even offer that to me?"

"Is that your question?"

I considered, but nodded. "Yeah."

He smiled, candid and warm, then leaned in. John kissed me, long and languid and slow, because he even if he didn't come out and say things, he could be so completely, fearlessly honest in other ways. He had been since he'd tried to get me to move in with him. Maybe even longer ago.

Stars, I thought as I kissed him back. Maybe there was something to this honesty thing.

AAAAAAAAAAW. Oh, this fandom needed this fill, and Harry needs this honesty charm.

Round 2 is closed.

Re: FILL 5/?

Re: Manners 1/1 (Reposted because of HTMLfail)

Re: Long Prompt Is Long

(frozen comment) Re: Oy! No breaking rule number 2.

(frozen comment) Emmy!

Re: Manners 1/1 (Reposted because of HTMLfail)

(frozen comment) Re: Oy! No breaking rule number 2.

FILL 6/?

(frozen comment) Re: Oy! No breaking rule number 2.

Re: FILL 6/?

Re: Harry Dresden, the Boy Who Lived

Re: FILL 6/?

Re: FILL 6/?

Re: FILL 6/?

(frozen comment) Re: Oy! No breaking rule number 2.

Re: Manners 1/1 (Reposted because of HTMLfail)

Re: Manners 1/1

Re: FILL 6/?

Re: Fic: Whatever You Want [1/?]

Re: Fic: Whatever You Want [1/?]

Re: Fic: Whatever You Want [1/?]

Re: Injury!Prompt

Re: Fic: Whatever You Want [1/?]

Completed! Fill 7/7

Re: Completed! Fill 7/7