(no subject)
Dresden Files, Harry/Nicodemus, bleed
Nicodemus wakes almost immediately after Deirdre has fished him from the icy waters of Lake Michigan, the power of Anduriel speeding up his regenerative abilities. As a matter of fact, it is only due to Anduriel that he is not dead yet.
That is the first time that has happened since he took up the coin, so long ago.
Two thousand years of leading, of planning, of causing countless suffering and pain to countless humans…and a young wizard, barely more then a boy, has done the impossible.
He hadn’t bothered to keep an eye on Dresden after gifting him with Lasciel’s coin, expecting him to only take a short while before he succumbed to temptation, as every other human has over the past thousands of years- and yet, five years on, not only had he not taken up the coin, he seemed to have somehow destroyed the shadow.
That should Not. Be. Possible.
Anduriel whispers a suggestion in his ear, and he nods grimly.
This will take careful planning, but when it is done…he has Lasciel’s coin. He can simply give it back to Dresden, once he has been properly...persuaded.
Once he was made to realise the consequences of disobedience. Made to bleed, to beg…
Ah, Dresden begging. Now there was a nice thought.
Deirdre had been getting a bit boring lately - worship was all very good, but it didn’t allow for very intelligent conversation, and it had been a while since he’d last tasted the triumph and pleasure of having something beautiful and powerful and dangerous underneath him, compliant at his touch.
And really, when it came down to it, this whole mess simply confirmed what he had known from the first - Dresden was a dangerous enemy - but once he was an ally, his loyalty assured, he would be incredible.
Dresden Files, Harry/Marcone, shift
Harry wasn’t sure when it had happened, but at some point, Marcone had shifted in his mind from ‘evil, cold-hearted, ruthless mob boss’ to ‘not so evil, cold-hearted, ruthless, overprotective and sort of attractive mob boss’. Every time he thinks he’s finally understood Marcone, and there’s no way he can ever like him, he goes and does something brave, or humane, or sweet, and it all goes topsy turvy.
By now, he’s just stopped trying.
Dresden Files, Girl!Harry/Marcone.
I’ll admit it - when I instigated a soulgaze with John Marcone, I didn’t exactly have the best of intentions. I’d just come from a hotel room where two people’s hearts had been ripped out of their chests, if I investigated, Morgan was likely to use it as a excuse to cut off my head, and I’d just been intimidated into his limo by having some linebacker rejects threaten to break my legs if I didn’t.
I was angry, scared, and worried, and I wanted to shake him up a bit, see his composure rattled. So I looked into dollar bill green eyes - and saw Gentleman Johnny Marcone’s soul.
It was Chicago, but a different Chicago from the one outside the Limo’s windows - all cold, smooth metal and sharp edges. There was a tiger there, green eyes familiar, sharp toothed and dangerous and powerful.
And in the corner, held away from the bright, ruthless buildings of John Marcone’s soulscape, was a box, or a safe - locked up tight, but affecting everything.
Lending Marcone the strength he needed to rule Chicago’s underground.
As I exited the soulgaze, more shaken then ever, I couldn’t help but to shiver a little - I’d always been attracted to predators, and there was one right in front of me, staring at me coolly as he calmly processed whatever he had seen in my soul.
I would have to make sure I stayed away from John Marcone - this could only end in trouble.
Dresden Files, Harry Dresden, Rain
When I was younger, I used to love the rain. I remember going outside and running in circles as droplets fell into muddy puddles, splashing and dancing and getting, deliciously, gloriously wet and muddy. Sometime Dad would come out and do the same.
That all changed when I first started doing magic. The rain made me feel weak, powerless, as it grounded out my abilities, and even if it hadn’t Justin certainly wouldn’t allow me to go out and play in the rain like a child when there was studying to be done.
Now, though…I still don’t go out in the rain to play - I guess I’m too old for that now - but sitting in my warm, cosy apartment, listening to the rain beat down on the concrete outside, knowing that in the morning everything will be washed clean and new…
Huh. I guess I still do love the rain.
Nicodemus wakes almost immediately after Deirdre has fished him from the icy waters of Lake Michigan, the power of Anduriel speeding up his regenerative abilities. As a matter of fact, it is only due to Anduriel that he is not dead yet.
That is the first time that has happened since he took up the coin, so long ago.
Two thousand years of leading, of planning, of causing countless suffering and pain to countless humans…and a young wizard, barely more then a boy, has done the impossible.
He hadn’t bothered to keep an eye on Dresden after gifting him with Lasciel’s coin, expecting him to only take a short while before he succumbed to temptation, as every other human has over the past thousands of years- and yet, five years on, not only had he not taken up the coin, he seemed to have somehow destroyed the shadow.
That should Not. Be. Possible.
Anduriel whispers a suggestion in his ear, and he nods grimly.
This will take careful planning, but when it is done…he has Lasciel’s coin. He can simply give it back to Dresden, once he has been properly...persuaded.
Once he was made to realise the consequences of disobedience. Made to bleed, to beg…
Ah, Dresden begging. Now there was a nice thought.
Deirdre had been getting a bit boring lately - worship was all very good, but it didn’t allow for very intelligent conversation, and it had been a while since he’d last tasted the triumph and pleasure of having something beautiful and powerful and dangerous underneath him, compliant at his touch.
And really, when it came down to it, this whole mess simply confirmed what he had known from the first - Dresden was a dangerous enemy - but once he was an ally, his loyalty assured, he would be incredible.
Dresden Files, Harry/Marcone, shift
Harry wasn’t sure when it had happened, but at some point, Marcone had shifted in his mind from ‘evil, cold-hearted, ruthless mob boss’ to ‘not so evil, cold-hearted, ruthless, overprotective and sort of attractive mob boss’. Every time he thinks he’s finally understood Marcone, and there’s no way he can ever like him, he goes and does something brave, or humane, or sweet, and it all goes topsy turvy.
By now, he’s just stopped trying.
Dresden Files, Girl!Harry/Marcone.
I’ll admit it - when I instigated a soulgaze with John Marcone, I didn’t exactly have the best of intentions. I’d just come from a hotel room where two people’s hearts had been ripped out of their chests, if I investigated, Morgan was likely to use it as a excuse to cut off my head, and I’d just been intimidated into his limo by having some linebacker rejects threaten to break my legs if I didn’t.
I was angry, scared, and worried, and I wanted to shake him up a bit, see his composure rattled. So I looked into dollar bill green eyes - and saw Gentleman Johnny Marcone’s soul.
It was Chicago, but a different Chicago from the one outside the Limo’s windows - all cold, smooth metal and sharp edges. There was a tiger there, green eyes familiar, sharp toothed and dangerous and powerful.
And in the corner, held away from the bright, ruthless buildings of John Marcone’s soulscape, was a box, or a safe - locked up tight, but affecting everything.
Lending Marcone the strength he needed to rule Chicago’s underground.
As I exited the soulgaze, more shaken then ever, I couldn’t help but to shiver a little - I’d always been attracted to predators, and there was one right in front of me, staring at me coolly as he calmly processed whatever he had seen in my soul.
I would have to make sure I stayed away from John Marcone - this could only end in trouble.
Dresden Files, Harry Dresden, Rain
When I was younger, I used to love the rain. I remember going outside and running in circles as droplets fell into muddy puddles, splashing and dancing and getting, deliciously, gloriously wet and muddy. Sometime Dad would come out and do the same.
That all changed when I first started doing magic. The rain made me feel weak, powerless, as it grounded out my abilities, and even if it hadn’t Justin certainly wouldn’t allow me to go out and play in the rain like a child when there was studying to be done.
Now, though…I still don’t go out in the rain to play - I guess I’m too old for that now - but sitting in my warm, cosy apartment, listening to the rain beat down on the concrete outside, knowing that in the morning everything will be washed clean and new…
Huh. I guess I still do love the rain.