Character A performs CPR and mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on character B.
Character B: a. is saved by by Char A (in other words, he really needed it and it worked) b. gets up and is "lol, I was just kidding, thanks for the kiss btw it was nice"
Slash preferred, and and het through genderbending is awesome, but optional.
Prequel to other two meme fics: http://scribe-protra.dreamwidth.org/306.html?thread=30002#cmt30002 and http://scribe-protra.dreamwidth.org/306.html?thread=165682#cmt165682
The first time the White Council encountered Harry Dresden, he had reeked of smoke and blood. All of sixteen and already a murderer. Margaret LaFey’s child through-and-through. He claimed self-defense. It was a shallow excuse for a deep scar. Darkness lurked in his magic and soul.
And he escaped us. Escaped justice. My sword.
He reeked of smoke and blood now.
I stumbled out of the burning house, Dresden’s limp body light on my shoulder. This close, all I could smell was him: smoke and blood.
We hadn’t let him clean before we took him before the Council. Filthy face covered in a black hood, everyone could smell his guilt even if we couldn’t see it. Burning flesh carries a specific smell, and it lingered on Dresden’s clothes and skin. Son of a warlock, trained by a warlock, blood under his dirty nails. He should have died then under my blade.
Like so many others, he escaped with his neck intact.
When I laid him on the grass, still close enough to feel the heat of the blaze, he didn’t move. Still and pale and bloodied, Dresden didn’t look like a warlock. Was that enough? That he didn’t look like one? The Blackstaff, of all people, should have known better.
Dresden just looked bruised and thin.
I leaned down. All I could smell was smoke and blood. It seeped into my lungs.
It stopped his.
Justin DuMorne hadn’t looked like a warlock, either. He had been one of us, long ago. He had been a Warden.
All of this was supposed to mean something.
I checked his pulse. Thready but there. Pulse, no breath. I tilted his head back and pinched his nose shut. I pressed my mouth to his and focused on breathing for him so I wouldn’t notice his taste.
Except he didn’t taste like I thought he would.
His lips felt soft for a warlock’s.
I expected smoke and blood. I expected something sharp and sour to match his vicious tongue.
I breathed for him and knew Dresden was too much of a stubborn bastard to let something like not breathing kill him.
We found him outside the burning home of his adopted father after he had murdered him.
I found him inside the burning home of a murderer, waiting to die.
Dresden tasted sweet.
His mouth gave softly under mine.
He was confused after, asking me why I didn’t let him die in the fire.
That was what separated warlocks and wardens, the fact that he had to ask that question at all.
This is so awesome! :D There needs to be more Morgan/Dresden pairings in this meme.
I like how you wrote in Morgan's POV from his past opinion of Harry to when he saved him in Storm Front. Particularly the part where Morgan sorta thought of himself as the same as Harry and the only difference that makes them not warlocks is what would make them a warden instead.
On an interesting note for Morgan/Dresden shippers, I think on TVTropes mentioned that after Deadbeat, Morgan kinda starts to respect Harry more to the point where he trusts him in Turncoat.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 10:52 pm (UTC)Character A performs CPR and mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on character B.
Character B:
a. is saved by by Char A (in other words, he really needed it and it worked)
b. gets up and is "lol, I was just kidding, thanks for the kiss btw it was nice"
Slash preferred, and and het through genderbending is awesome, but optional.
no subject
Date: 2011-02-16 10:47 pm (UTC)I'm just sayin' ; )
no subject
Date: 2011-02-18 08:38 pm (UTC)Because I can't get away from this pairing...
Date: 2011-02-23 02:44 am (UTC)The first time the White Council encountered Harry Dresden, he had reeked of smoke and blood. All of sixteen and already a murderer. Margaret LaFey’s child through-and-through. He claimed self-defense. It was a shallow excuse for a deep scar. Darkness lurked in his magic and soul.
And he escaped us. Escaped justice. My sword.
He reeked of smoke and blood now.
I stumbled out of the burning house, Dresden’s limp body light on my shoulder. This close, all I could smell was him: smoke and blood.
We hadn’t let him clean before we took him before the Council. Filthy face covered in a black hood, everyone could smell his guilt even if we couldn’t see it. Burning flesh carries a specific smell, and it lingered on Dresden’s clothes and skin. Son of a warlock, trained by a warlock, blood under his dirty nails. He should have died then under my blade.
Like so many others, he escaped with his neck intact.
When I laid him on the grass, still close enough to feel the heat of the blaze, he didn’t move. Still and pale and bloodied, Dresden didn’t look like a warlock. Was that enough? That he didn’t look like one? The Blackstaff, of all people, should have known better.
Dresden just looked bruised and thin.
I leaned down. All I could smell was smoke and blood. It seeped into my lungs.
It stopped his.
Justin DuMorne hadn’t looked like a warlock, either. He had been one of us, long ago. He had been a Warden.
All of this was supposed to mean something.
I checked his pulse. Thready but there. Pulse, no breath. I tilted his head back and pinched his nose shut. I pressed my mouth to his and focused on breathing for him so I wouldn’t notice his taste.
Except he didn’t taste like I thought he would.
His lips felt soft for a warlock’s.
I expected smoke and blood. I expected something sharp and sour to match his vicious tongue.
I breathed for him and knew Dresden was too much of a stubborn bastard to let something like not breathing kill him.
We found him outside the burning home of his adopted father after he had murdered him.
I found him inside the burning home of a murderer, waiting to die.
Dresden tasted sweet.
His mouth gave softly under mine.
He was confused after, asking me why I didn’t let him die in the fire.
That was what separated warlocks and wardens, the fact that he had to ask that question at all.
Even if we both smelled like smoke and blood.
Re: Because I can't get away from this pairing...
Date: 2011-02-23 02:51 am (UTC)I like how you wrote in Morgan's POV from his past opinion of Harry to when he saved him in Storm Front.
Particularly the part where Morgan sorta thought of himself as the same as Harry and the only difference that makes them not warlocks is what would make them a warden instead.
On an interesting note for Morgan/Dresden shippers, I think on TVTropes mentioned that after Deadbeat, Morgan kinda starts to respect Harry more to the point where he trusts him in Turncoat.
Re: Because I can't get away from this pairing...
Date: 2011-02-23 02:55 am (UTC)Writing-wise, I particularly like the repetition of 'smoke and blood', and also these lines:
I expected something sharp and sour to match his vicious tongue.
I breathed for him and knew Dresden was too much of a stubborn bastard to let something like not breathing kill him.
Re: Because I can't get away from this pairing...
Date: 2011-02-23 04:38 am (UTC)OP here
Date: 2011-02-23 09:08 pm (UTC)