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I can't decide whether to be absolutely horrified or ecstatic about this prompt. Just thinking about this movie gives me chills and I saw it months ago. But it would fit so well with the Dresden Files!
*props his chin on his hands*
You have my attention. Pray, continue.
You have my attention. Pray, continue.
Anyone/Harry, Harry/Anyone, or one-sided Harry/Anyone watching Someone/Someone.
The one where they're mer-men. Underwater shenanigans.
Go for it. Whatever you want, so long as it includes Harry in some way.
The one where they're mer-men. Underwater shenanigans.
Go for it. Whatever you want, so long as it includes Harry in some way.
Wh-what? One shot! One shot! I have nothing else to add!
I agree with previous.
More please? *tries puppy-eyes*
-DA
More please? *tries puppy-eyes*
-DA
Ah. Didn't see mention of the fact. Okay. We'll just stalk and poke for whatever the epic beast is, then ^^
Marcone won't let him react like that, obviously. What if something was really wrong with him? And, of course, Harry won't want to ADMIT to what he actually saw...
Anons, I'm flattered, but I really don't have any ideas for how to expand on it. Ya'll can feel free to use it if you like. It was just a spur of the moment thing.
S-sorry to disappoint. D8
S-sorry to disappoint. D8
Awwww, no worries about disappointing. We're just greedy. :)
S'ok - not disappointment. Think of it more as sprouting new ideas. Yeah. That'll work.
YES, YES MORE PLEASE.
*ahem.* What I mean is: yes, more would be appreciated. Thank you.
*ahem.* What I mean is: yes, more would be appreciated. Thank you.
Kincaid having fun exhausting Dresden to the point where he can't even snark anymore/showing why he loves mouthy bottoms. Kincaid totally makes Dresden come until he's coming dry.
There seems to be a lack of Lash prompts around here. Which is a shame because she is an incredibly interesting character. I mean, she's the rebellious shadow of the most rebellious member of a group of rebellious angels. She's a cool kid!
She has millions of years worth of knowledge and access to incredible fire-power (haha). She's sexy and knows how to get what she wants. She's also lonely and scared of death but willing to sacrifice herself for Harry.
Basically, we need a Lash-centric fill!
She has millions of years worth of knowledge and access to incredible fire-power (haha). She's sexy and knows how to get what she wants. She's also lonely and scared of death but willing to sacrifice herself for Harry.
Basically, we need a Lash-centric fill!
Someone decides to teach Harry a lesson about living without magic - either a low-level practitioner making deals with beings he shouldn't, a fae, a vampire, a White Council wizard who thinks the "little upstart" needs a lesson - and so he's stripped of his magic for his time.
Who does he turn to? Does he get revenge somehow? How does he deal?
Does he finally get that hot shower he's been wanting for weeks?
Who does he turn to? Does he get revenge somehow? How does he deal?
Does he finally get that hot shower he's been wanting for weeks?
Well, when you put it like that, it kind of makes me want Lash/Bob.
LOL. Really? That hadn't actually occurred to me when I posted but now that you mention it...
I bet they'd have a wild time together. Like tons of amazingly dirty, metaphysical sex.
I bet they'd have a wild time together. Like tons of amazingly dirty, metaphysical sex.
I am slavering over this. Slaver, slaver, slaver.
This actually... makes so much sense.
Your portrayal of Marcone always reminds me of Vetinari.
Willis-Tower-Crown reinforced that. :)
Willis-Tower-Crown reinforced that. :)
I was merrily going about my job editing for a local paper and saw an article mentioning "Molly Butters."
Make it happen, Anon. Maybe they get married. Maybe Butters adopted her. Maybe he names his daughter after her (but whyyyy?)
I just need Molly Butters to exist in fandom.
Make it happen, Anon. Maybe they get married. Maybe Butters adopted her. Maybe he names his daughter after her (but whyyyy?)
I just need Molly Butters to exist in fandom.
I started this a few hours ago but had to go to classes and work. Sorry ^^;; Also, lame title is lame.
+
I forget what I had needed to look for, because what I Saw was more important. I think there had been some kind of magical conflict, and we needed to know what happened before we could move on. But it was ugly, the magic there - ugly enough that I was locked into staring at it, even as my gorge rose.
Then a shadow crossed my vision.
Describing things you see with your Sight is like describing an acid trip to someone who has spent their whole lives with black and white vision or no vision at all, and who has never tried psychotropic drugs. You can throw as many words at them as you want, but they still won't really know what you're talking about.
But even though the vision will never leave my memory - what you See this way never does - I still feel compelled to record it, because it was without a doubt one of the most beautiful and terrifying things I've ever beheld.
The shadow/being was like a thin grey veil over a light as bright as the sun - so bright I could See/feel it warm my skin. I made out money-green eyes that were gentler than they let on. The figure under the veil reached out and I noticed the golden torc on his neck, the thick, solid necklace of warrior-royals from the British Isles and similar areas.
I can't really tell you why, but I felt safe, seeing him this way. Like I knew he would take care of me, take care of my problems, and all I had to do was let him. He wouldn't make me kneel. He liked my pride, because it answered something in him.
It wasn't just me he would look after, though. All of Chicago had his caring attention. The city was always in his thoughts, to the point that I thought I could make out parks and buildings and maps in the shifting cloth of the veil. His hands were stained red, up to the elbows.
I closed my Sight. I was crying, I noted vaguely - it felt like I had stared at a light too long, which I essentially had.
"What did you See?" Marcone asked.
I took a shuddering breath, turning away. "You shouldn't interrupt my line-of-Sight like that. Yeah, a lot of ugly magic. I sincerely don't like the looks of either of these practitioners - they were throwing compulsion spells around like they were peanuts."
"What made you cry?" he pressed, wiping some of the water off my cheek with his thumb. Ten minutes ago, I would have flinched back violently. But a wizard can't forget what he sees with his Sight, and it altered my perception of Marcone fundamentally. I leaned in, to the surprise of everyone in the room. Backing away hastily was an afterthought.
"You...it's hard to explain," I said, scrubbing my face with my hands. "W-we should get to work."
Marcone watched me for a long moment before he nodded.
We found the warlocks. I did my job. Chicago was safe, and I had more blood on my hands.
I wondered what someone would see of me, with Sight. I wondered if I even had the core of goodness that I saw in Marcone, to make up for the tarnish on my soul.
+
I forget what I had needed to look for, because what I Saw was more important. I think there had been some kind of magical conflict, and we needed to know what happened before we could move on. But it was ugly, the magic there - ugly enough that I was locked into staring at it, even as my gorge rose.
Then a shadow crossed my vision.
Describing things you see with your Sight is like describing an acid trip to someone who has spent their whole lives with black and white vision or no vision at all, and who has never tried psychotropic drugs. You can throw as many words at them as you want, but they still won't really know what you're talking about.
But even though the vision will never leave my memory - what you See this way never does - I still feel compelled to record it, because it was without a doubt one of the most beautiful and terrifying things I've ever beheld.
The shadow/being was like a thin grey veil over a light as bright as the sun - so bright I could See/feel it warm my skin. I made out money-green eyes that were gentler than they let on. The figure under the veil reached out and I noticed the golden torc on his neck, the thick, solid necklace of warrior-royals from the British Isles and similar areas.
I can't really tell you why, but I felt safe, seeing him this way. Like I knew he would take care of me, take care of my problems, and all I had to do was let him. He wouldn't make me kneel. He liked my pride, because it answered something in him.
It wasn't just me he would look after, though. All of Chicago had his caring attention. The city was always in his thoughts, to the point that I thought I could make out parks and buildings and maps in the shifting cloth of the veil. His hands were stained red, up to the elbows.
I closed my Sight. I was crying, I noted vaguely - it felt like I had stared at a light too long, which I essentially had.
"What did you See?" Marcone asked.
I took a shuddering breath, turning away. "You shouldn't interrupt my line-of-Sight like that. Yeah, a lot of ugly magic. I sincerely don't like the looks of either of these practitioners - they were throwing compulsion spells around like they were peanuts."
"What made you cry?" he pressed, wiping some of the water off my cheek with his thumb. Ten minutes ago, I would have flinched back violently. But a wizard can't forget what he sees with his Sight, and it altered my perception of Marcone fundamentally. I leaned in, to the surprise of everyone in the room. Backing away hastily was an afterthought.
"You...it's hard to explain," I said, scrubbing my face with my hands. "W-we should get to work."
Marcone watched me for a long moment before he nodded.
We found the warlocks. I did my job. Chicago was safe, and I had more blood on my hands.
I wondered what someone would see of me, with Sight. I wondered if I even had the core of goodness that I saw in Marcone, to make up for the tarnish on my soul.
Re: The Adoption of Ivy, the Archive and Jared Kincaid, the Hellhound
(Anonymous) 2011-03-01 05:49 am (UTC)(link)Oooooo!!! YES PLS!!!!!!!
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