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Has anyone noted in here that a certain foul-tempered danseur nobel sorta stomped the election, and is pretty much confirmed to be the next mayor? And probably really needs celebratory sex?
Just saying. ^^
Just saying. ^^
oh yes. i love how it's all YAY MAYOR! and within a few hours there's multiple rahm prompts. i love fandom XD
NEVER feel guilty. If anything do it again, anon! *cheer you on*
I had meant it as in Marcone can't pay for Harry's happiness, it has to be Harry doing it, but.
That. That is a hilarious scene all unto itself.
That. That is a hilarious scene all unto itself.
[A/N: Marcone tied up + werewolves? Not sure how to work towards that... I’ll try... O_o.]
I.
“Listen up, Hoss,” Ebe cut straight into Harry’s cautious greeting, uncharacteristically abrupt. “The Council’s sending a big gun to be the new Warden. Now that you’re the Winter’s Knight, the Merlin’s decided that you’ve got a conflict of interest.”
“I haven’t exactly been the Council’s eagle scout all this time,” Harry frowned, the line cutting briefly into static. “So why now?”
“Because the person that the Council’s sending only just ran out of excuses and got strong-armed into coming, that’s why.” There was a pause, then Ebe added, “No, that wouldn’t be right, I don’t think he could be strong-armed into anything. I think he probably finally had something that he had to bargain with the Merlin over.”
“Who, Ebe?”
“Before I tell you,” Ebe said, with some reluctance, “This guy is one of the White Council’s best kept secrets. He’s old Chicago blood; his family has had White Council Senior members since the very first Merlin, but they usually keep to their stomping grounds. Then they got interested in human politics, and we haven’t heard from them for a while. But just because this guy isn’t on the Senior Council now doesn’t mean he doesn’t have the firepower.”
“Ebe,” Harry said, as patiently as he could, “So a big shot is coming to town. That’s fine. I don’t see why you need to call me up and make such a big deal about it. I’ve had Wardens breathing down my back for years. I can handle it.”
“Not this one.” Ebe’s tone was grim. “The name he’s using nowadays is ‘Rahm Emanuel’.”
“Who?” Harry asked, before recalling the name and face splashed all over the newspapers this morning. “Oh. Oh hells.”
“Exactly. I’ll ask you to leave town,” Ebe added, “But I thought I’d just stick with a dire warning and save my breath.”
“Does this explain why he went from being...” Harry paused, racking his mind briefly over his vague knowledge of vanilla human politics, “Chief of Staff, to running for something much lower down the scale?”
“Maybe. The Merlin’s been a bit closemouthed about it even to the Senior Council. But you had better watch your back, Hoss.”
“If he stays out of my way, I’ll stay out of his.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Ebe hung up, and Harry was left with a dim sense of unease. Maybe it was time to brush up on local vanilla politics.
1.0
Rahm Israel Emanuel settled into the plush chair in the mayoral office and waited impatiently until all of his aides had filed out and closed the door. Then he closed his eyes, sank a fraction of an inch deeper into his chair, and counted to twenty. When he was absolutely sure that nobody was listening at the door, Rahm snapped his fingers at the shiny, steel Newton’s cradle on the edge of his desk.
The first sphere on the right swung up, and back down, with a satisfying click, and the screen of his favorite Blackberry shuddered briefly into a gray haze.
“I’m back,” Rahm murmured, into the empty room, then added, with a deep, slow sense of relish after days and days of staying clean and on message, “Motherfuckers.”
II.
“‘You stay out of my way, I stay out of yours’?” Rahm Emanuel repeated, arching an eyebrow. The new mayor was surprisingly... short and slim, if sleek and sharp in a tailored suit, and everything about him seemed aggressively businesslike. Harry found himself reminded of a graying terrier with well-preserved teeth. He couldn’t sense any sort of power from Emanuel, and not for the first time since walking into the mayoral offices, wondered if Ebe was just growing paranoid in his old age.
Then Emanuel drawled, “No dice, Dresden.”
“Look-”
“I’ve heard about you.” Emanuel steepled his fingers before his sharp nose. “Property damage tends to happen indiscriminately when you’re around. You’ve been connected to several different incidents involving civilian or police fatalities. And, you’re the Winter Knight. I knew your predecessor, and he was a fucking asshole.”
Harry bit down on a growl and took a tight hold of his temper. It wasn’t as though he wasn’t used to hearing things twisted around like this, after years of living with Morgan lurking around every corner, but hearing it from a complete newcomer annoyed him. “If the Merlin put you here to-”
“The Merlin doesn’t ‘put’ me anywhere, Dresden. Point number one. Point number two,” Emanuel stabbed a forefinger in Harry’s direction, “I don’t care for your fucking attitude, and I think you’re a troublemaker. But I’ve been advised very strongly to give you a chance.”
“By who?” Harry asked, biting down the instinctive retort, suddenly curious. It couldn’t have been Ebe...
“Luccio,” Emanuel said succinctly. “Hah. I was probably as surprised as you look. I’m here to clean up the city. All of the city, and no, I don’t intend to prove any fucking thing to you. Still, since Luccio talked me into getting your opinion before I start, what’s your first suggestion?”
Harry blinked. Somehow, the air of angry aggression had turned into an air of businesslike aggression, so abruptly that his brain was left flailing to keep up. “Uh.” Harry thought quickly. What could a mayor do best at this point in time? Put that way, the answer was obvious. “Reinstate and promote Karrin Murphy to Commander. Special Investigations.”
“Karrin Murphy. Special Investigations. Any relation to Collin Murphy?”
“Daughter.”
“I’ll look into it.” Rahm typed like he was trying to kill the keyboard, all sharp, jerky jabs. “And?”
Harry found himself reluctantly giving Rahm a short brief on the larger factions in Chicago, from the Raiths (leaving out Thomas) to the Fae, and finally, the Baron. At the mention of Marcone, Rahm made his first, surprised sound of the briefing. “Huh.”
“What?” Rahm hadn’t batted an eye at everything else, which had made Harry suspect that the mayor had already thoroughly done his homework and was simply looking for some confirmation.
“I did hear that the Baron of Chicago was a vanilla human, and part of the Outfit.” Rahm recovered quickly. “But the way you just talked about him, it’s like the ‘vanilla human’ part didn’t matter.”
“He has a valkyrie bodyguard.”
Rahm scowled at Harry, recognising evasion when he heard it. “And?”
“And he has his fingers in a lot of pies where they don’t belong.” Harry shrugged. It wasn’t as though he liked Marcone enough to pussyfoot around the mobster’s business. “He’s also told me that his intention is to ‘clean up’ Chicago. Funny where I just heard that from.”
“Ha, ha. Very funny.” Rahm, however, sounded distracted, transferring his scowl to his computer screen instead. “What about the wolves?”
“Wolves?”
“Werewolves,” Rahm snapped impatiently. “There used to be a pack, living around the university grounds.”
“Change of management.” Harry quipped, if warily, wondering if he should get a warning out to Billy.
“Don’t look like I’m just about to step on your fucking pet hamster. I had an old agreement with its pack leader. Long time ago. I’ll need to see if that still holds water.” Rahm glared briefly out of the window before returning to his computer. “I’ll see if I can get Murphy reinstated this week. Arrange a meeting with Maeve.”
“I don’t work for you.” Even as he said this, Harry was aware that it had come out peevish rather than defiant.
Rahm smirked, as though Harry had cracked a joke. “Always good to have a second opinion.”
2.0
Dresden hadn’t been kidding about ‘new management’ - the werewolf pack was unrecognisable. Instead of the lean, thuggish pack that he remembered, this group of... kids... likely could and did pass for human, bickering gently among themselves and good natured, although they were clearly wary and puzzled by his sudden visit.
“Mayor,” the biggest kid said, then added, self consciously, as a young woman elbowed him sharply in the ribs, “Mister Mayor. I’m Billy, this is Georgia. Uh. What can we do for you?”
“I used to have a deal with the pack.” Rahm said, arms folded and alone in the doorway of what looked more like a miniature frathouse than a werewolf den. There were even computers lined up in a neat row at the far corner. “I’m thinking that we should negotiate further terms.”
Billy frowned at Rahm. “Never seen you before.”
“It was a while ago.” Rahm conceded.
The pack behind Billy muttered restlessly amongst themselves, and someone in wolf shape padded out from a backroom, sleek and gray, muzzle slightly parted to show rows of sharp teeth. Billy glanced at Georgia, who asked, “What sort of deal?”
“He’s human,” one of the werewolf kids rumbled from the back. “Mayor or not, we never had any-”
The kid cut himself short. Rahm had peeled off a mitten, and was kneeling by a patch of snow-covered dirt just before the doorway. Snow melted before his palm as he murmured the Words under his breath, a string of waking charms that he’d learned before he could talk, more soul-memory now than conscious thought, and when he pressed his palm against the dirt, the ground shuddered gently beneath him. Someone swore, in the den, and Rahm could vaguely hear an appliance shorting out.
It took a few heartbeats longer than he remembered, but the answering spark of synchronicity came in a heady rush, curling in a jolt of energy that fed back into him and made him dizzy. It was nice to know that after all this time, Chicago was a mistress who didn’t hold long grudges.
Rahm got back up on his feet, and the werewolves were sniffing the air, frowning as one, and he knew he’d won when Billy said, awed, “What are you?”
He bared his teeth in a grin. “Your fucking mayor. Now, are we going to talk terms?”
-tbc... I was thinking a little earth magic, a little localised Jack Hawksmoor (the Authority). Sorry about the mistakes, is 1am. /passes out-
“Listen up, Hoss,” Ebe cut straight into Harry’s cautious greeting, uncharacteristically abrupt. “The Council’s sending a big gun to be the new Warden. Now that you’re the Winter’s Knight, the Merlin’s decided that you’ve got a conflict of interest.”
“I haven’t exactly been the Council’s eagle scout all this time,” Harry frowned, the line cutting briefly into static. “So why now?”
“Because the person that the Council’s sending only just ran out of excuses and got strong-armed into coming, that’s why.” There was a pause, then Ebe added, “No, that wouldn’t be right, I don’t think he could be strong-armed into anything. I think he probably finally had something that he had to bargain with the Merlin over.”
“Who, Ebe?”
“Before I tell you,” Ebe said, with some reluctance, “This guy is one of the White Council’s best kept secrets. He’s old Chicago blood; his family has had White Council Senior members since the very first Merlin, but they usually keep to their stomping grounds. Then they got interested in human politics, and we haven’t heard from them for a while. But just because this guy isn’t on the Senior Council now doesn’t mean he doesn’t have the firepower.”
“Ebe,” Harry said, as patiently as he could, “So a big shot is coming to town. That’s fine. I don’t see why you need to call me up and make such a big deal about it. I’ve had Wardens breathing down my back for years. I can handle it.”
“Not this one.” Ebe’s tone was grim. “The name he’s using nowadays is ‘Rahm Emanuel’.”
“Who?” Harry asked, before recalling the name and face splashed all over the newspapers this morning. “Oh. Oh hells.”
“Exactly. I’ll ask you to leave town,” Ebe added, “But I thought I’d just stick with a dire warning and save my breath.”
“Does this explain why he went from being...” Harry paused, racking his mind briefly over his vague knowledge of vanilla human politics, “Chief of Staff, to running for something much lower down the scale?”
“Maybe. The Merlin’s been a bit closemouthed about it even to the Senior Council. But you had better watch your back, Hoss.”
“If he stays out of my way, I’ll stay out of his.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Ebe hung up, and Harry was left with a dim sense of unease. Maybe it was time to brush up on local vanilla politics.
Rahm Israel Emanuel settled into the plush chair in the mayoral office and waited impatiently until all of his aides had filed out and closed the door. Then he closed his eyes, sank a fraction of an inch deeper into his chair, and counted to twenty. When he was absolutely sure that nobody was listening at the door, Rahm snapped his fingers at the shiny, steel Newton’s cradle on the edge of his desk.
The first sphere on the right swung up, and back down, with a satisfying click, and the screen of his favorite Blackberry shuddered briefly into a gray haze.
“I’m back,” Rahm murmured, into the empty room, then added, with a deep, slow sense of relish after days and days of staying clean and on message, “Motherfuckers.”
“‘You stay out of my way, I stay out of yours’?” Rahm Emanuel repeated, arching an eyebrow. The new mayor was surprisingly... short and slim, if sleek and sharp in a tailored suit, and everything about him seemed aggressively businesslike. Harry found himself reminded of a graying terrier with well-preserved teeth. He couldn’t sense any sort of power from Emanuel, and not for the first time since walking into the mayoral offices, wondered if Ebe was just growing paranoid in his old age.
Then Emanuel drawled, “No dice, Dresden.”
“Look-”
“I’ve heard about you.” Emanuel steepled his fingers before his sharp nose. “Property damage tends to happen indiscriminately when you’re around. You’ve been connected to several different incidents involving civilian or police fatalities. And, you’re the Winter Knight. I knew your predecessor, and he was a fucking asshole.”
Harry bit down on a growl and took a tight hold of his temper. It wasn’t as though he wasn’t used to hearing things twisted around like this, after years of living with Morgan lurking around every corner, but hearing it from a complete newcomer annoyed him. “If the Merlin put you here to-”
“The Merlin doesn’t ‘put’ me anywhere, Dresden. Point number one. Point number two,” Emanuel stabbed a forefinger in Harry’s direction, “I don’t care for your fucking attitude, and I think you’re a troublemaker. But I’ve been advised very strongly to give you a chance.”
“By who?” Harry asked, biting down the instinctive retort, suddenly curious. It couldn’t have been Ebe...
“Luccio,” Emanuel said succinctly. “Hah. I was probably as surprised as you look. I’m here to clean up the city. All of the city, and no, I don’t intend to prove any fucking thing to you. Still, since Luccio talked me into getting your opinion before I start, what’s your first suggestion?”
Harry blinked. Somehow, the air of angry aggression had turned into an air of businesslike aggression, so abruptly that his brain was left flailing to keep up. “Uh.” Harry thought quickly. What could a mayor do best at this point in time? Put that way, the answer was obvious. “Reinstate and promote Karrin Murphy to Commander. Special Investigations.”
“Karrin Murphy. Special Investigations. Any relation to Collin Murphy?”
“Daughter.”
“I’ll look into it.” Rahm typed like he was trying to kill the keyboard, all sharp, jerky jabs. “And?”
Harry found himself reluctantly giving Rahm a short brief on the larger factions in Chicago, from the Raiths (leaving out Thomas) to the Fae, and finally, the Baron. At the mention of Marcone, Rahm made his first, surprised sound of the briefing. “Huh.”
“What?” Rahm hadn’t batted an eye at everything else, which had made Harry suspect that the mayor had already thoroughly done his homework and was simply looking for some confirmation.
“I did hear that the Baron of Chicago was a vanilla human, and part of the Outfit.” Rahm recovered quickly. “But the way you just talked about him, it’s like the ‘vanilla human’ part didn’t matter.”
“He has a valkyrie bodyguard.”
Rahm scowled at Harry, recognising evasion when he heard it. “And?”
“And he has his fingers in a lot of pies where they don’t belong.” Harry shrugged. It wasn’t as though he liked Marcone enough to pussyfoot around the mobster’s business. “He’s also told me that his intention is to ‘clean up’ Chicago. Funny where I just heard that from.”
“Ha, ha. Very funny.” Rahm, however, sounded distracted, transferring his scowl to his computer screen instead. “What about the wolves?”
“Wolves?”
“Werewolves,” Rahm snapped impatiently. “There used to be a pack, living around the university grounds.”
“Change of management.” Harry quipped, if warily, wondering if he should get a warning out to Billy.
“Don’t look like I’m just about to step on your fucking pet hamster. I had an old agreement with its pack leader. Long time ago. I’ll need to see if that still holds water.” Rahm glared briefly out of the window before returning to his computer. “I’ll see if I can get Murphy reinstated this week. Arrange a meeting with Maeve.”
“I don’t work for you.” Even as he said this, Harry was aware that it had come out peevish rather than defiant.
Rahm smirked, as though Harry had cracked a joke. “Always good to have a second opinion.”
Dresden hadn’t been kidding about ‘new management’ - the werewolf pack was unrecognisable. Instead of the lean, thuggish pack that he remembered, this group of... kids... likely could and did pass for human, bickering gently among themselves and good natured, although they were clearly wary and puzzled by his sudden visit.
“Mayor,” the biggest kid said, then added, self consciously, as a young woman elbowed him sharply in the ribs, “Mister Mayor. I’m Billy, this is Georgia. Uh. What can we do for you?”
“I used to have a deal with the pack.” Rahm said, arms folded and alone in the doorway of what looked more like a miniature frathouse than a werewolf den. There were even computers lined up in a neat row at the far corner. “I’m thinking that we should negotiate further terms.”
Billy frowned at Rahm. “Never seen you before.”
“It was a while ago.” Rahm conceded.
The pack behind Billy muttered restlessly amongst themselves, and someone in wolf shape padded out from a backroom, sleek and gray, muzzle slightly parted to show rows of sharp teeth. Billy glanced at Georgia, who asked, “What sort of deal?”
“He’s human,” one of the werewolf kids rumbled from the back. “Mayor or not, we never had any-”
The kid cut himself short. Rahm had peeled off a mitten, and was kneeling by a patch of snow-covered dirt just before the doorway. Snow melted before his palm as he murmured the Words under his breath, a string of waking charms that he’d learned before he could talk, more soul-memory now than conscious thought, and when he pressed his palm against the dirt, the ground shuddered gently beneath him. Someone swore, in the den, and Rahm could vaguely hear an appliance shorting out.
It took a few heartbeats longer than he remembered, but the answering spark of synchronicity came in a heady rush, curling in a jolt of energy that fed back into him and made him dizzy. It was nice to know that after all this time, Chicago was a mistress who didn’t hold long grudges.
Rahm got back up on his feet, and the werewolves were sniffing the air, frowning as one, and he knew he’d won when Billy said, awed, “What are you?”
He bared his teeth in a grin. “Your fucking mayor. Now, are we going to talk terms?”
-tbc... I was thinking a little earth magic, a little localised Jack Hawksmoor (the Authority). Sorry about the mistakes, is 1am. /passes out-
I'm glad you're not upset! I should've asked first, but your fill was so awesome, I was all "oh, I gotta write more."
The collaborative spirit of the kinkmeme is kind of totally amazing, NGL. ♥
The collaborative spirit of the kinkmeme is kind of totally amazing, NGL. ♥
Everyone/Dresden, AU
Harry Dresden as a veterinarian. He can be a regular guy or have some magical talent like talking to animals or hearing what they think. But he still oblivious as hell to all his clients flirting with him. Mouse and Mister are very smart, and cockblock all they deem unworthy.
Kincaid has pet dogs, Marcone is a cat person, etc etc. Authornon chooses characters and their pets.
Bonus points for His Rahm-ness being there.
Harry Dresden as a veterinarian. He can be a regular guy or have some magical talent like talking to animals or hearing what they think. But he still oblivious as hell to all his clients flirting with him. Mouse and Mister are very smart, and cockblock all they deem unworthy.
Kincaid has pet dogs, Marcone is a cat person, etc etc. Authornon chooses characters and their pets.
Bonus points for His Rahm-ness being there.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
...yeah, that's pretty much all I can articulate at the mo.
...yeah, that's pretty much all I can articulate at the mo.
wow. Not the OP, but I feel like this doesn't even need to get towards the werewolf bondage or even any sex at all. This is just so hard-core, the idea of being closeted, how quickly he tops poor pathetic Harry. I am looking forward to seeing Rahm's relationships with Murphy so much I'm practically bouncing.
EEEEE. OMG, this is amazing, and I love the idea of the Jack Hawksmoor thing.
(as person you're replying to: the exact scene is not necessary, I was just trying to give the idea of him out-marcone-ing Marcone. And I think you are managing that just fine.)
(as person you're replying to: the exact scene is not necessary, I was just trying to give the idea of him out-marcone-ing Marcone. And I think you are managing that just fine.)
Inspired by the other Morgan/Dresden prompts floating around. After Deadbeat, Morgan hears alarming rumors about Dresden and Thomas and decides Dresden's foolishness is winning again. He decides to save Dresden from himself, whether Dresden likes it or not.
First thought - holy shit
Second thought - someone finally wrote Harry/Michael/Charity! \o/
Second thought - someone finally wrote Harry/Michael/Charity! \o/
The setup, Marcone's thoughts, Harry's issues.
Everything. I have no words.
Too much awesome.
/thud/
Everything. I have no words.
Too much awesome.
/thud/
I'm the anon from earlier who mentioned wanting the scenarios.
Damn that was fucking hot. /dumps ice cubes on head/
"...I want them too."
/channeling Bob right now/
clearly the solution is a Harry gangbang. Or scheduled weekends with the Carpenters, Lara, John, and Thomas. They all get one weekend a month.
Damn that was fucking hot. /dumps ice cubes on head/
"...I want them too."
/channeling Bob right now/
clearly the solution is a Harry gangbang. Or scheduled weekends with the Carpenters, Lara, John, and Thomas. They all get one weekend a month.
Someone needed to write that pairing! I'm surprised to be the first.
I can actually hear the glee in Marcone's face as he interrogates Harry. And lol at him not even knowing what color Susan's eyes are. Flustered Harry and teasing Marcone are so much fun. XD
Dresden/Marcone - The Count of Monte Cristo. Yes, I am a nerd.
(Anonymous) 2011-02-23 08:04 pm (UTC)(link)(insert name here) is a naive, entirely benign young soldier who has just been made captain, and is newly engaged to the wizard Harry Dresden. Just as his life seems like it couldn't get any better, he is framed as a spy/traitor/murderer/(insert other suitably nasty crime here) by four men, each with his own sinister aims, and sent to life imprisonment in whichever suitably fortress-like island prison you choose.
During his years in prison, (insert name here) meets Shiro Yoshimo, a fellow prisoner who becomes his close friend. Shiro educates him in a variety of subjects, helps piece together the truth about his imprisonment, and before dying, tells of a treasure of unthinkable magnitude buried on the island of Demonreach. (insert name here) manages to escape, and finds the treasure.
He returns to Chicago as the mysterious, brooding, immensely wealthy and highly cultivated Gentleman John Marcone. He discovers that the men who sent him to his fate have all become very rich and powerful, and sets about using their own evil pasts and tainted passions to enact an elaborate and cruel revenge on all of them.
Would prefer it to end happily for both Harry and John, in a departure from the original novel, and for Morgan, the Denarians, and Mab to appear in some form.
During his years in prison, (insert name here) meets Shiro Yoshimo, a fellow prisoner who becomes his close friend. Shiro educates him in a variety of subjects, helps piece together the truth about his imprisonment, and before dying, tells of a treasure of unthinkable magnitude buried on the island of Demonreach. (insert name here) manages to escape, and finds the treasure.
He returns to Chicago as the mysterious, brooding, immensely wealthy and highly cultivated Gentleman John Marcone. He discovers that the men who sent him to his fate have all become very rich and powerful, and sets about using their own evil pasts and tainted passions to enact an elaborate and cruel revenge on all of them.
Would prefer it to end happily for both Harry and John, in a departure from the original novel, and for Morgan, the Denarians, and Mab to appear in some form.
The heat factor was awesome, first off. Also, the characterization (including how the sexytiems went) was excellent. I've always thought Harry/Lara would be interesting, so that was a nice bonus.
I'm voting for scheduled weekends. With the option to change them in case of the latest apocalypse (especially if saving Chicago requires sex magic).
I'm voting for scheduled weekends. With the option to change them in case of the latest apocalypse (especially if saving Chicago requires sex magic).
...if I flail any harder, I'm going to achieve human-powered flight. And I adore the idea of a Jack Hawksmoor-type familial bond to Chicago's genius loci.
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