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dresden_kink_mods ([personal profile] dresden_kink_mods) wrote in [community profile] dresden_kink2012-01-10 11:13 pm
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Round Five by five, baby!

Round Five: Open!
Ghost Story Prompts and meta: Open!
Tracking Post: Open

| Round One: open only for feedback, WIPs continued in The Overflow Post or the current round. Link back to your previous posts! |
| Round Two: open only for feedback, WIPs continued in The Overflow Post or the current round. Link back to your previous posts! |
| Round Three: open only for feedback and WIPs continuation. You can also continue in The Overflow Post or the current round. Link back to your previous posts! |
| Round Four: open only for feedback and WIPs continuation. You can also continue in The Overflow Post or the current round. Link back to your previous posts! |



Read this first. Do it. There will be a test.

The Rules. Including the Posting Guidelines. aka:

In the first line of your fill*, you must include:

1) Character(s)/Pairing(s)/Threesome(s)/Moresome(s) as applicable.
2) Any kinks included. Please take this to include scenarios, themes, etc. Use your imagination.
3) MANDATORY WARNINGS/CONTENT NOTES if there is dubcon or noncon, underage characters in sexual situations, major character death, suicide, self-harm, and/or graphic descriptions or extensive discussions of abuse.
Please consider trigger warnings for any other widespread triggers in your fill, such as natural disasters, or specifying instances of harm, such as eating disorders.
Please don't conflate warnings and kinks; treat each individually, and use your pairings to indicate gen/het/slash/multi/&c. Do not warn for het, slash, or otherwise.

EXAMPLE:
Characters & Pairings: Mentions of Harry Dresden/John Marcone, but entirely nonsexual gen in this fic. Harry Dresden, John Marcone, Ebenezar McCoy, Thomas Raith, Justine, Listens to Wind, Mister, Mouse.
Kinks: kidfic, second childhood, age regression, family bonding, fish out of water, situational:age change, involuntary transformation
Content notes: no mandatory notes. Mentions of a previous sexual relationship between two adults, one of whom is now a child, but absolutely no sexual contact or content while said character is a kid. Veg*n trigger warning for death of an animal.

*THIS IS REQUIRED FOR ALL FILLS. MINIFILLS, ART FILLS, WHATEVER ELSE INCLUDED.


For images: Please post image prompts and fills and all other images with alt tag descriptions or with a text description of the piece. Example: [img src="neked.jpg" alt="Here's John being all hot and half naked saying Dresden et cetera et cetera"], replace [ ] with < >. If you are linking to an external image, please include a description with the link.

NEW FOR ROUND FIVE: After you have posted your fill, please go to the fill tracking post and comment there to say so, including a link back to your fill. You don't have to do this, but no guarantees it will be caught otherwise.

Thank you.


The discussion post is here. Mod questions go here. The delicious account is here, (currently on-hold. Thanks, newdelicious.). The pinboard account is here (not up to date).

Don't forget about all the unfilled prompts. Got an unfilled prompt you want to give a second chance? Repost it here. Otherwise, go ahead and repost an unfilled prompt as a new comment with a link to the original if you are filling it. Please indicate in the subject line that it is a Repost To Fill.

Open prompt is here: http://dresden-kink.dreamwidth.org/3344.html?thread=3032848#cmt3032848

Comments in chronological order: http://dresden-kink.dreamwidth.org/3344.html?view=flat

Edit 5-14-15 So 3+ years later, the only comments this post is getting are spam comments. I've changed the settings to screen all comments to discourage that. If you leave a legit comment, I will unscreen it. Thanks, all. I had a great time.

Harry has a fondness for horses.

(Anonymous) 2013-01-04 05:52 am (UTC)(link)
This is just my headcanon, but I'm going to indulge it anyway with this:

During his time on Eb's farm, Harry learned a lot about horses. He also finds a small comfort in the horses themselves. He appreciates their strength, their speed, but above all: Harry appreciates the fact that they don't judge.

You guuuuysss, I need something where Harry has a genuine fondness for horses and him interacting with one (or a few?). Maybe he's visiting Eb and he checks up on one of his favorite horses? Or possibly you can write his first experience with a horse? Anything, please. :)

Would prefer gen, but if you want a pairing, go ahead~

Cold days spoilers

(Anonymous) 2013-01-04 04:20 pm (UTC)(link)
Cold days spoilers!!

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Dresden/Marcone

Harry has started to get used to the "Want. take. have." mentality the mantle's pressing down on him and has gotten pretty good at ignoring the urge to have at it with all teh laydeez.

Too bad he is totally unprepared to the level of WANT slamming through him the first time he lays eyes on Marcone.

[FILL] Impulse Control

(Anonymous) 2013-01-29 09:56 pm (UTC)(link)
Characters/Pairings: Dresden/Marcone, Imaginary Dresden/Female Characters
Kinks: Possessive Behavior, Impulse Control (and lack thereof), Temperature Play, Bondage, Bloodplay
WARNINGS/NOTES: See kinks. And dubcon (but only at first). Cold Days spoilers.


Sexual frustration has taken on new meaning for me. I mean - it used to be that feeling you get when you want and can't have; or want and won't have. A feeling that used to mean that I - like any healthy man - had needs, but found myself unable to sate them for a multitude of reasons.

Namely moral high ground (my apprentice), friendships and status quo (Karrin Murphy), and plain old bad judgment (White Court, Sidhe, etc.).

(Even though my apprentice was now also the Winter Lady. But for the sake of her own humanity as well as mine that option would have to remain off the table. Not to mention my death when Charity Carpenter, her mother, found out.)

However, the term "sexual frustration" now meant something much different. And this stemmed from the nature of the Winter Mantle I bore as the Winter Knight. Because it was a primal power, it came with a set of primal urges as well.

So now the term sexual frustration referred not the fact that my needs were acting up without an outlet, but that I was instead frustrated with the more primal turn of my behavior. The reasons that would have held me back before the Mantle were all but dust in the wind.

They were still there, and still valid - but a larger part of me just now longer cared. I found myself having to constantly remind myself that my friends and my apprentice were only that and not MINE in the very primitive sense that the Mantle instilled in me. MINE to protect, MINE to hurt, MINE to fuck.

I struggled with those urges for what felt like years, but was actually only three weeks. Either the Mantle backed off, or I built up a resistance - because when it came to my female acquaintances I managed tamp down the Winter monster that slumbered within me to a protective urge. It was hard work - a beyond sexually frustrating - but worth it to have my apprentice feel safe in my company once again.

It was worth it to be able to talk with Murphy comfortably.

It was worth it to be able to turn down the Winter Fae or Lara when they decided to mess with me.

Impulse control is a wonderful thing to have. As it turned out...it was also a wonderful thing to lose.


Gentleman Johnny Marcone is the undisputed criminal overlord of Chicago, as well as being the only vanilla mortal to be signed on and recognized by the Unseelie Accords. In this way he is, at least in the eyes of the supernatural community, the Baron of Chicago.

The man has a tiger for a soul.

And he's also a pain in the ass. In the past he tried to recruit me as a consultant on the supernatural for his Outfit, however I made a habit of saying "no". Unfortunately that didn't stop him. We weren't strictly enemies, but neither were we what you could call friends; occasional allies, perhaps?

I respect him, but that doesn't mean I like him.

I hadn't seen him since before I became the Winter Knight, and as a consequence I was entirely unprepared for what happened when I saw him through the half open window of a dark sedan cruising through the city during one afternoon.

I had gotten used to being insulated from my more primal nature brought forth by the Winter Mantle, but the few seconds glimpse that I caught of John Marcone were enough to bring it all pouring forth. Unadulterated need and desire coursed through me, and I could feel my lips curling back in a bestial snarl.

I knew it in my bones, in the very core of my power and my self. John Marcone belonged to me. He just didn't know it yet.


TBC...

Re: [FILL] Impulse Control

(Anonymous) - 2013-03-16 03:32 (UTC) - Expand

Re: [FILL] Impulse Control

(Anonymous) - 2013-09-28 10:38 (UTC) - Expand

Cold Days Spoilers

(Anonymous) 2013-01-04 11:30 pm (UTC)(link)


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Shameless kink: Harry's second suicide route happens. Harry/Lara.


~~~~~~~~

Re: Cold Days Spoilers

(Anonymous) 2013-01-08 12:35 am (UTC)(link)
Seconded. Please. Convince me.
Does anyone think she'd go for that and risk anger Mab? I'm not certain.

(Anonymous) 2013-01-10 12:43 am (UTC)(link)
Harry/Marcone

Consensual use of lust potion.

Red Riding Hood

(Anonymous) 2013-01-10 12:44 am (UTC)(link)
Kinkaid/Harry

Role-play of Little Red Riding Hood, wherein Little Red is more than happy to be "eaten" by the Big Bad Wolf.

Re: Red Riding Hood

(Anonymous) 2014-01-27 06:14 am (UTC)(link)
That would be SO freaking hot! Especially if Kincaid was perhaps stalking him through the city first and beat Harry back to his place so he could pounce on him for sexytimes.

Why has no one filled this? :(

Cold Days spoilerish

(Anonymous) 2013-01-11 05:14 pm (UTC)(link)
So I was lurking on the official forums a while back (I know, I know), and there was a thread about Slate's snowflake tattoo on his throat, and Fix looking for a similar sign on Harry's wrist during SmF, and shouldn't Harry have one somewhere on his body in CD now that he's the Winter Knight?

And one of the suggestions was that he hasn't noticed it yet because it's on his back where Mab healed it. So, um, fic where this is the case, and someone brings it to Harry's attention, and cue the all the "so it's a tramp stamp on everyone else, Harry, but on you it's a lower back tattoo?" and the "hell's bells, I looked like I belonged on the cover of a cheesy urban fantasy novel."

Gen or any ship but Harry/Molly, please.

Re: Cold Days spoilerish

[personal profile] patrick_diomedes 2013-01-11 06:07 pm (UTC)(link)
oh god seconding this so hard.

Re: Cold Days spoilerish

(Anonymous) - 2013-02-18 07:34 (UTC) - Expand

Almight Johnsons Crossover, Harry is Loki, hence all the Fires

(Anonymous) 2013-01-12 11:07 pm (UTC)(link)
Exactly what it says on the tin. And that's why Odin is so helpful to him.

Say the set up in AJ was something the norse gods pulled for safety, power, spread the sees of knowledge of them, loophole abuse.

Axl found his Frigg, and reacsended, but prophecy shenanigans due to Ragnarok or the fact that Loki is a god that entered the pantheon, whatever meant that Loki's god spirit got left behind until which time he can acsend on his own and redo the whole blood brothers thing with Odin.

As a god of Ergi, this means Harry is so tottally in denial about money green eyes...

Sanya/Butters getting medical attention

(Anonymous) 2013-01-14 11:13 pm (UTC)(link)
I don't know why this link does it for me, but I love the idea of Butters sewing up Sanya after a fight with some big bad, Sanya being deeply impressed with this little mortal medical examiner and it all ends in heavy make out time, possibly more.

Bonus points for Butters griping about not being a 'real' doctor.

Re: Sanya/Butters getting medical attention

(Anonymous) 2013-01-14 11:13 pm (UTC)(link)
Edit: Kink not link

Phoneix!Harry

(Anonymous) 2013-01-15 02:10 pm (UTC)(link)

So, I suddenly out of nowhere got this idea in my head. Dresden as a phoenix!
And then as usual my brain ran away with me in the direction as harry secretly spying on the White Council to see if the they should ally with for some reason.

because Phoenixes are creatures of fire and Harry is overly fond of using Fuego. And it would be awesome id Anon made his really old, like "Phoenixes were born with the first volcanos X billion years ago and we burn and gets reborn again and that is how I was born as a wizard to Margaret LeFay to see if it was a good idea to ally with wizards"

I would prefer a Dresden/Macrone pairing but it's up to Anons choice
same with any kinks, up to Anon

In which a mob boss becomes a kitten.

(Anonymous) 2013-01-18 01:41 pm (UTC)(link)
Marcone gets hit by a spell, turns into a kitten (or cub), and has to suffer kissy-kissies and baby talk from an annoyingly tall wizard while they try to find a cure for John's... problem.

Harry just can't help himself. Really. For a scumbag, Marcone made a damn cute fuzzy-wuzzy, yes he dooooes-- ow!

Gen or Harry/John. I just need little baby animal!Marcone and Harry being, well, himself. Because of reasons. *no shame*

not a fill

(Anonymous) 2013-06-11 02:58 pm (UTC)(link)
Ooooh! make it so marcone's cat form is a Scottish fold.
you know, with small folded ears and zhort but fuzzy furr...
----------------------------

"Miaow miaw miaw (so I really hope you could solve this problem..)"

silence

"nya..?" (mr dresden...?*head tilt*

harry inner soul explode looking at that small head tilt. the next second there was a busy chatter of 'Daaw' 'Oooh look at that itty bitty paw' 'C'mere uou little princess'

"MRRRAWWW!! HISSSSSSS!!"

Hendricks have to save Marcone from being squashed by an over eager 6'8" wizard... and taking away the kit-Mr marcone- with furs stand and ready to scratch

Hell's Bells, my Godfather/Godmother is me!

(Anonymous) 2013-01-19 08:33 pm (UTC)(link)
Because of a ritual gone wrong, Harry ends up summoning alternate versions of Lea and himself.
And apparently, because the universe hates him, Alt!Harry is Alt!Lea's Godfather and is up there with Lea powerwise.

Lea and Alt!Harry are not impressed with their human selves.

Everyone else is not happy, one insane Godparent is quite enough as it is!

Harry Dresden, say hello to Lea Dresden!

Re: Hell's Bells, my Godfather/Godmother is me!

(Anonymous) 2013-09-06 02:00 am (UTC)(link)
So. Much. Win

Re-Post with Fill: Molly's not so alone time (Molly/Bob, sorta)

(Anonymous) 2013-01-23 05:05 pm (UTC)(link)
Original request here:
http://dresden-kink.dreamwidth.org/2675.html?replyto=2484595
No idea where this came from, but now I kind of need to see this.

Molly having some "alone time" in the lab. Except she's not exactly alone. Bob's watching. If she somehow knows, I'd like to see Bob giving her tips on how to masturbate better. And possibly exploration of how, ah, "solid" Bob's usual form can be.

Fill: Explorations (1/2)

(Anonymous) 2013-01-23 05:11 pm (UTC)(link)
Characters: Molly, Bob, Harry
Pairing: Molly/Bob, sort of
Warnings: possibly underage character masturbating. Non-consensual voyeurism.

Kinks: Voyeurism, masturbation with magical sex toys.
***********************************

So about six months after taking in that luscious little cupcake of an apprentice, Harry finally, finally decided that the poor girl had enough self-control for a little self-loving.

He really needn't have worried. Harry's own early excursions into the world of wrestling the one-eyed trouser snake might have been rather... explosive. Literally. But that was Harry. Harry is just a destructive person generally. Molly's magic is a lot more subtle, a lot more interpersonal. It was probably a good idea for her to stay away from the more interpersonal variety of sex until she knew what she was doing, or the first man to thrust his tumescent wand into her silken flower might find his mind trapped in her head for all eternity. But alone? She wouldn't get into any trouble. Molly was not the type to set the bedsheets on fire.

I could have told him that. But Harry's Harry, and I'm, well, me, and he'd probably think I was just being what he would call my usual oversexed self. Personally, I think he's just repressed. Probably a reaction to his disastrous lovelife and a few early experiences setting the bedsheets on fire.

Besides, he was being the overcautious one, telling her that she should only do "that" in a nice secure circle. What did he think she was going to do, draw a big circle around her bed at her parents' house? Like her harridan of a mother would allow that. If he was less paranoid, she could just take extra-long showers like a normal teenage girl and nobody would be the wiser- hell, the water would ground out any stray energies she came up with, no problem. But no. No, he blushed and stammered his way through giving her the thumbs up for diddling herself, but only with the proper precautions set up.

And the only precautions she had access to were in the lab. Right in front of me.

Well. It's not my fault that he doesn't trust my judgment on these matters.

A few days after that conversation- which he had right in front of me, mind, filling the poor girl's head with all sorts of sexual paranoia with me unable to speak up and correct him- he finally left her alone in the lab while he went out on some Warden business. I think he must have completely shoved the conversation from his mind, because he didn't blush in the least when Molly asked him eagerly how long he'd be out. Barely five minutes after he'd left, there she was, powering up the magic circle on his floor and shimmying out of her lusciously tight jeans.

Wow.

I watched her appreciatively as she knelt on the floor. She looked nervous, almost guilty- well, a Catholic upbringing and then six months of repressed neurotic wizard training could do that to a girl. In the best circumstances, they get over it, and all that guilty repression turns into wild kinky passion etc. etc, but there's a bit of a learning curve. Molly's hands trembled as they hooked around the elastic of her pristine white cotton panties- mmmm, white cotton panties- and she slid them down as far as her knees.

Then she took a deep breath, and shoved one of those hands down, between those perfect milky-white thighs.

I didn't exactly have the best of views of her, ahem, delicate womanhood itself, but honestly I didn't need them, not with the frustrated little gasps and moans she was making. She was getting flushed, and the other hand slid under her shirt, presumably to play with those exuisite little breasts of hers (take it off, take it all off, I would have yelled if Harry hadn't made me swear up down and sideways not to talk to her). She chewed her lower lip slightly, brows furrowed in concentration. Inside the circle, magic power was building- not a lot of power, but little whisps with nowhere to go, swirling around and around.

And then, after perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes of this, she snarled "dammit", stood up, yanked her pretty panties back into place, and then with a frustrated growl, stood in the "ground and center" pose Harry had taught her. She breathed slowly and deeply, and the magic around her quieted. "Dammit," she repeated, this time less a snarl and more a whine, and reached out to break the circle.

I watched her contemplatively as she threw herself into her homework, her hips giving a frustrated squirm against her chair from time to time.

***
The next day, luckily for her, Harry left her alone again. Once again, minutes after he left, she was powering up the circle again, pulling her tights down and her skirt up, and this time she'd come prepared.

Well, sort of.

I winced, metaphorically speaking, when I saw what she'd brought with her. A pink, sparkly, battery-powered vibrator. Great. Now, don't get me wrong- for the general population, a vibrator is a girl's best friend. Many's the night out on the town that I've watched one gorgeous woman or another moan as she brought one of those jobbies between her legs. But none of those women had been young, barely-trained wizards.

It started off pretty good- pretty girl on her hands and knees, sliding that buzzing stick lightly between the soft lips of her vulva. Oh yes, I could see it all this time- she faced away from me, skirt flipped up onto her back, all that quivering soft flesh spread out like she was giving me a show on purpose. And the sounds she was making! A heady mix of yesyesyes and oh god and wordless cries, and I could see or feel- hard to describe, really- the tendrils of her arousal swirling about her, this time tying together, weaving themselves until they formed one large knot, and she gave one long, loud, positively pornographic moan as her climax came, and-

And, of course, the vibrator sparked, with a loud pop and an alarming flash of light. The smell of burning plastic floated through the lab.

It might even have set the bedsheets on fire, if she'd been in bed.

Molly shrieked and dropped it, then, catching her breath, realized just what had happened. "Oh, hell's bells," she said, rolling her eyes (picking verbal ticks up from Harry, I thought, isn't that adorable?). Still, she felt more, well, relaxed, than I'd ever seen her, even after the, ahem, shock she'd had (badum ching). Getting off was good for her, I thought. But getting off on a regular basis? She was going to need some help, help that there was no way Harry was going to offer.

As she straightened herself up and broke the circle, I settled down to think carefully about the exact terms of my agreement with Harry.

****
It was, in the end, a remarkably simple thing. Molly was a bright girl, and could figure things out herself. So, I made a few innocent suggestions to Harry about her training, and a couple weeks later, she was practicing her abilities to use the element of pure force. Not her strong suit, mind, so I suggested to Harry that he set her to practice in a way that might be better suited to her than the big, showy punches he used- minute manipulations of magically resonant crystals. So there she was, with a big hunk of quartz on the table in front of her, practicing moving it with the pure forces of her mind. Big movements, little movements. Straight lines across the table, and smooth, controlled circles.

And tiny little vibrations that buzzed against the table.

I could practically see the moment when she thought of it, a slight widening of her eyes and a bluch. Harry, bless his repressed little heart, was oblivious.

Next time she was alone in the lab, she wasted no time getting into the circle and shedding all clothing below the waist. She'd evidently aquired a piece of quartz all of her own for this, this one a bit smaller and tumbled smooth. Smart girl. Once she was half-naked, she lay back on the floor and relaxed.

After a few minutes of meditation, she started the little piece of quartz vibrating in her palm. Unlike the motorized version, this one was silent against her flesh. Then slowly, carefully, she lowered it down between her legs. She gasped in pleasure, and then- ah. The stone had stopped vibrating, and she glared at it a moment.

This would, I realized, be a bit tricky for her, keeping the vibrations going while experiencing the rather distracting effects of those vibrations. Well, good. Practice in concentration, after all. With one hell of an incentive to keep at it. See? I'm helpful!

And persistent she was. She calmed herself again, and repeated the action. This time, she kept her magic vibrator going for a few minutes before it stuttered again. When it did, she just looked determined, and tried again. And again. And again. For an hour and a half.

When Harry returned home, with a slamming door and a cheery yelled greeting, Molly wasted no time in getting dressed again, with a speed that only horny teenagers can manage. Harry was down in the lab in a jiffy, Molly all sweaty and dishevelled sitting the the circle, and yet he showed no sign of knowing what she had been up to. Even though the place reeked of horny girl. I mean, wow. When he asked what she had been up to, she flushed crimson and muttered something about concentration exercises. He nodded in approval, obviously distracted, and shooed her out of the lab. And then began questioning me about the theory behing the magic he'd seen some two-bit practioner doing while he was out, like he had no idea what he'd just walked into.

Sigh. Some people.

Fill: Explorations (2/2)

(Anonymous) - 2013-01-23 17:12 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Fill: Explorations (2/2)

(Anonymous) - 2013-01-24 02:43 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Fill: Explorations (2/2)

(Anonymous) - 2013-03-16 03:43 (UTC) - Expand

Sterility

[personal profile] patrick_diomedes 2013-01-24 07:32 am (UTC)(link)
So i was looking through a thread on another forum, when I came across this gem:

Dresden: "So you're saying that I do this ritual, and I'm shooting blanks for a year, AND I get better in the sack? What's the catch?"

Bob: "Well, technically the catch is you're shooting blanks for a year. Your fertility is being sacrificed to Freyja, and in return Freyr grants you his prowess. Expect the Scandinavians to have a fractionally better harvest the years you use it."

And now i need someone to work it into a story. Especially if there are multiple supernatural entities trying to get his firstborn, and refusing to believe he's sterile.

Re: Sterility

(Anonymous) 2013-01-24 05:13 pm (UTC)(link)
omg yeeeeees. I need this. Badly.

Re: Sterility

(Anonymous) - 2013-06-06 07:54 (UTC) - Expand

female!Harry fucking Marcone with a strap-on

(Anonymous) 2013-01-26 04:52 am (UTC)(link)
Always-a-girl!Harry fingering her Baron and milking his prostate for all it's worth, and then fucking his brains out with a big strap-on.

++bonus points if Marcone's first time having anal sex

[MINOR COLD DAYS SPOILER] Harry/Anyone, D/s

(Anonymous) 2013-01-28 10:30 pm (UTC)(link)
Spoilers! For reals!

Harry in full-on possessive/obsessive WinterKnightMode, please. Complete with those ice claws he was waving around near the end of the book. I want Harry as the meanest and toppiest he's even been. And totally freaking out Team Morals in the process.

Any pairing is fine.

FILL: Den of Monsters (1/2)

(Anonymous) 2013-02-19 01:23 am (UTC)(link)
Oh, god, requester, I started playing around with your prompt and writing and then THIS thing happened, and now I am a little bit afraid of my id.

Pairings: Harry Dresden/Lara Raith, Harry Dresden/John Marcone, Harry Dresden/Molly Carpenter (sort of, not really)

Warnings: Major Cold Days spoilers. Noncon, by which I mean GRAPHIC, VIOLENT RAPE, from the rapist's perspective. Suicidal thoughts.
Also, um, Dresden/Marcone shippers? This might not be your cup of tea. No happy ending here, guys.


Kinks: Blood- drawing of, drinking of. Winter Mantle-induced, er, alternate state of mind. White Court vampirism. Aphrodisiacs (White Court vampire blood). Oh yeah, and the requested ice claws. Also death threats. And violence in general.

Note: I listened to Cold Days as an audiobook, so apologies if I screw up capitalization conventions or something.

*****

Things were kind of desparate when I fully called on the strength of Winter. I had used up most of my magical energy early on, taking down the Outsider that the latest crop of lunatics had called- I could probably pull off a few simple spells, but nothing major. And now Lara and I had been separated from the others, lost somewhere in the tunnels of Undertown, and we were facing down a hoard of hideous, semi-humanoid monsters, with no real weapons, no idea where our backup was, and no way I could see to escape.

As the first of the creatures came down the bend, I made my decision, and reached inside myself for the mantle of Winter. I let the icy, predatory instincts into me. I formed razor-sharp claws out of ice over my fingers and snarled, waiting to ambush our enemies.

The monsters went down like wheat before a scythe. I tore into them, ripping apart with my claws. It was like a joyful dance, tearing apart these creatures like paper, watching them fall before my might. I had nothing to fear from such puny creatures. I was of Winter, and they were no match for me.

The battle was over within minutes. Once the last enemy had fallen, Lara and I faced each other. She was breathing just as heavily as I was in the aftermath, her breasts heaving under her torn shirt. She had trails of blood on her, some of it the sickly green of the monsters, some the dark red of their mortal lackeys, some of it her own pale pink, all three shades standing out in stark contrast against her opalescently white skin. She stood still ready to pounce, muscles coiled in tension, as she sized me up, trying to decide if I was prey as well.

I smiled, baring my teeth. Two could play at that game.

I stalked forward one slow step, watching her for signs of movement. Her eyes narrowed, but her lips parted in desire. I knew she wanted me, had wanted me for a long time, wanted to envelop me in her soft heat and drain the life out of me. Half of that sounded just fine to me. We'd see about the other half.

I lunged at her with a snarl, claws flexed and ready to rip into her flesh. She was ready for me, stepping to one side so my momentum carried me past her, then whirling to face me as I pounced again. We met in a flash of raw power, muscle against muscle, a desparate struggle for dominance. But I knew the power her demon gave her was no match for the power of Winter. It wasn't long before I had brought her to the ground. She writhed beneath me, sensual, futile movements against me that felt so good, so right. She was mine now, mine to take, and I growled in triumph before lowering my mouth to right below her collarbone, running my tongue along the trail of pale pink blood I found there.

Her blood, oh god, her blood. It was like nothing I'd ever tasted before. I needed more, and it was my right to take more, to bleed her dry if I wanted. I raked my ice claws down her cheek, hard enough to pierce even her hard vampire's skin. She moaned, long and sensuous; I couldn't tell if it was pain or desire, and didn't much care. I just knew that I liked it. The pale blood welled up from the long slashes I created, and I lapped at them, sweet victory on my tongue. My lust roared in me, a deep drive to fuck this woman, to take her, to make her mine. Lara was mine, and I had denied myself too long. Everywhere my skin touched hers was pleasure, so intense I could barely think of anything else, and she was mine.

We were both wearing too much clothing, though perhaps some of it had been useful as armor in battle. But the battle was over, and now it was time for the spoils. I slashed away her shirt, exposing the rest of her perfect breasts, and I bit them each in turn, hard enough that on another woman I would have drawn blood. But Lara's skin was hard, and cool, and it took cold ice again to part the layers of her skin and make that pink ambrosia well up. I felt like I might spend myself simply looking at that sight, at the beautiful, powerful creature I had brought down, submitting to whatever pain I felt like inflicting.

I ripped away my own pants easily, the cloth parting effortlessly under my claws. I was aching hard, and I needed her flesh on mine, needed the heat I knew I'd find inside her no matter how cold her skin.

And then I felt an impact on my back, and a low growl that wasn't coming from me. Too caught up in taking my prize, I hadn't noticed the wolf approaching, and now it was on top of me, pinning me down on top of Lara. I snarled and struggled against the creature; it had the advantage of leverage for the moment. Lara's pale, pale eyes opened wide, and she thrust one hand out against the beast, pushing it off of us. I rolled away and up into a crouch, just in time to avoid the pounce of another wolf, just as large. I slashed at it, but it danced away in time to avoid my claws. Then it leapt at me, hitting me square in the chest. I growled in anger. How dare this interloper try to steal my prize. I bared my teeth, intending to tear the throat out of the thing that had taken me away from what I needed. God, I needed Lara, needed her writhing under me, and I would kill what stood in my way. My claws connected with the wolf, tearing gashes in its skin, and it made a whining noise and tried to pin my arms down. It wasn't using its teeth. It wasn't using its claws. Weakness.

Something tickled in the back of my head at that- there was something important about that, there was something significant about the way about the wolf was pinning me down and not harming me. But no, keeping me down was harming me, keeping me away from Lara's sweet flesh was harming me, and I would not stand for it. I raked my claws at the wolf again, and it flinched away. I levered myself to my feet in an instant and watched it, waiting for my moment to take it down and kill it.

There was a pain in my leg, a sudden sharp pain that burned right through the strength of Winter. I gasped, doubled over a moment, then reached down and felt the small steel throwing knife in my leg. Iron. I yanked out the knife and threw it to the ground, and looked up with hatred at the man who had thrown it standing on the other side of the chamber we were in. He fingered another knife in his hands and stood ready, the alert stance of a predator. John Marcone, I knew, and there seemed there was something I was supposed to remember about him, but I looked at the man who had wounded me with iron and cared only that he was mortal. He was strong, a powerful fighter, but he was also tired from battle. I glanced at Lara; she was thoroughly pinned to the ground by two wolves now, a third having shown up while I was busy with the second. I would deal with them after I'd dealt with Marcone.

I closed the distance between us at a run. I brought my shield up just long enough to deflect the second knife he threw at me, and then I was on him. He blocked my first strike with his left hand, and then there was another knife in his right, cold steel gleaming wickedly.

"How dare you," I growled at him, "how dare you use steel on me, the chosen champion of Winter? I will rip your throat out, mortal scum."

"Get ahold of yourself, Dresden," he said harshly as we circled each other, sizing each other up, waiting for an opening. "Your friends might hesitate to harm you, but if you continue to threaten my allies, I will not hold back."

I laughed. "You think you could kill me? Now, with the power of Winter behind me?"

"Stand down, Dresden," he said. "Before you do something you regret."

I lunged at him, and we both struck. His knife made a long, painful cut on my arm, the iron stinging in in a way that I couldn't ignore. He took my momentary distraction to jerk away from me again, and I could see his shirt cut to ribbbons in front, long scratches bleeding an angry red on his chest. His skin, I realized, would be soft and warm, stretched over firm and strong muscles. My cock twitched. Lara seemed very far away now, and it would take time to take down everyone that stood between us. I didn't think I wanted to wait that long. "Or maybe I won't rip your throat out right away," I growled. "Maybe I'll use to to replace what your interference took from me."

His eyes widened just a hair and his gaze flicked down, towards my cock, and in that moment I gathered just the slightest bit of magic and threw a bolt of force at his hand, at the same time striking out at him again with my icy claws. He blocked my attempt to gouge his flesh, but couldn't stop my magic from disarming him. His knife clattered to the ground. He tried to break away again, but I caught him, and bore him down to the ground just as I had Lara. I pinned his wrists over his head with one hand and pressed my mouth to his neck, felt his pulse fluttering wildly under my tongue and between my teeth. He froze, his only movement his shallow breaths; he was intimately aware how thin the barried between life and death was for him, at this moment. My erection pressed against the place where his leg met his hip, and I could feel him slowly growing hard under me. On impulse I took his mouth with mine, a violent kiss that was all teeth and struggle and blood, and he began fighting me again, making his muscles move against my skin in ways that felt so, so damn good.

I pulled my mouth away from him to roar a primal cry of joy and triumph and lust, and when I looked back down, his pupils were dilated wide, his eyes unfocused and disoriented, and he ran his tongue over his bleeding lip. "What- what did you-" he started, and then shuddered and gasped as he bucked, pressing his hard cock against me. I raked my claws over his chest again, tearing into muscle, and he grunted in pain. When I brought the sharp edges to his throat again, pressing not quite hard enough to cut into him, I could almost smell the fear on him.

It would be easier to turn him over, pin him facedown to the ground while I took him, but I wanted to see his face, to watch that heady mix of terror and lust overtake him. I gathered up more of my magic, drawing on the strength of winter, and with a whisper, froze his wrists together, encasing them in a thick block of ice as I drew my hand away. He gasped raggedly as he tested his bonds, and thrust against me again with an almost inaudible moan.

Once I had him imprisoned, I made quick work of his pants, ripping them away, digging into the skin of his thighs. I seized his hips in my hands- pulling that part of him up to a convenient height was barely any effort at all, and at last, at last, I took him, plunged into him, finally was able to slake my lust in that tightness that felt as hot as fire on my skin. He tensed against me, struggled, but that only made everything feel so, so much more intense. It couldn't have taken more than a minute before I came, came hard in struggling hot flesh like I had been aching for for so long.

I withdrew, and bent over my prize to whisper in his ear, gently, like a lover's sweet nothings, "I could sink my claws into your guts right now. I could kill you and there's not a damn thing you could do about it."

I drew my claws lightly up his hard dick, leaving tiny trails of blood in their wake, and he closed his eyes, and with an agonized whimper, came all over my hand.

I regarded him as I idly licked the mingled blood and semen off my hand. The fight seemed to have gone out of him entirely, now. I might as well kill him, now that I'd taken what I wanted. His throat, maybe, like I'd planned. I leaned forward and prepared to strike. He was staring off into the distance, expression totally blank.

"Harry. Blackstone. Copperfield. Dresden."

My Name resonated through me, a deep thrumming that seized my entire being. I looked up; it was unthinkable that I could do anything else. The Winter Lady stood above us, and she was beautiful. She was more regal than Maeve had ever been, a quiet, cold strength in her face and bearing. Her hair, shimmering in shades from deepest navy to purest white with all shades of blue in between, was braided and pinned into a coil around her head, exposing the length of her neck. She wore tight, dark blue leather leggings, a belt holding several long knives, and a tight, sleeveless white vest that showed off her muscular arms and just a hint of pale, lovely cleavage.

I stood, bowed my head. "My lady." I wanted to fall at her feet, feel her hand rest on my head. I wanted to nuzzle against those long legs, tear that tight leather away from her, bury my face in her-

A cold torrent of water poured over my head, cold enough to feel like I was being frozen to the heart. I coughed and sputtered, but found my movements strangely restricted. And then I realized I was embedded, from the shoulders down, in a block of ice.

Molly frowned at me. "Right. That should hold you until I figure out what's happened here." She looked almost sad when she looked at me. "Can- can you try to get back to yourself, Harry? Please?"

Cold water didn't have the libido-killing effects that it had back before, before I'd become a creature of Winter. But the shock of it was still a shock, and it was enough to push away the mantle of Winter, to gain something of my own mind back.

FILL: Den of Monsters (2/2)

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Harry/Lasciel

(Anonymous) 2013-01-31 10:52 pm (UTC)(link)
I need some Harry/Lasciel. Or Harry/Lash. Or Id!Harry/Lash. Please?

Toot becomes Sidhe, and Consort to the Winter Knight

(Anonymous) 2013-02-05 01:39 am (UTC)(link)
Toot-toot has been growing in power for a while now, earning more and more prestige as Harry's general, and without really meaning too, growing bigger and bigger. Eventually, someone high up in Winter (possibly Mab herself) takes notice and offers him the chance to ascend to full Sidhe status. He thinks it over (maybe gets a counteroffer from Summer) and finally agrees- on the condition that he be allowed to enter into service of the Winter Knight.

But when Mab transforms him into a full Sidhe she uses a....different....definition of "service" when seetig him his role within her court.

(Anonymous) 2013-02-05 12:11 pm (UTC)(link)
Harry/Molly. Spanking.


Er, it's fine if this is just Molly fantasizing. Preferable, really.

Supernatural Crossover

[personal profile] patrick_diomedes 2013-02-07 04:28 am (UTC)(link)
I wanna see Bella Talbot in the dresdenverse. Preferably Bella/Murphy or Bella/Murphy/Harry

Harry is kidnapped by upstart rival mobsters on his way to date night with Marcone..

(Anonymous) 2013-02-08 07:47 pm (UTC)(link)
...but instead of escaping (which he completely could, they've got him in a circle that couldn't hold Molly much less him) he decides to just kick back and let the bastards feel John's wrath. Plus it's kind of fun letting John work his ass off to rescue him, and not have to lift a finger for once.

Re: Harry is kidnapped by upstart rival mobsters on his way to date night with Marcone..

(Anonymous) 2013-02-17 03:01 pm (UTC)(link)
I laughed. <3 This is a fantastic prompt.

SECONDED.

Harry/Murphy/Lash

[personal profile] patrick_diomedes 2013-02-11 08:15 am (UTC)(link)
So, does it count as a threeway if there are only two bodies?

Thomas-Centric-Changes-AU

(Anonymous) 2013-02-11 09:06 pm (UTC)(link)

In a world where the events of Changes went differently Thomas Raith labors to establish himself as the "Cool Uncle", give his Self-Righteous Grandfather a piece of his mind, throws the biggest and best bachelor party in existence, and fights for his right to be Harry's Best Man.

Because there needs to be ONE happy ending for these people for a change.

Any Takers?

Bonus: Lara showing up at the Bachelor Party to ride Harry before being married to Susan makes him Untouchable forever.

Double Bonus: ...so does Molly.

Re: Thomas-Centric-Changes-AU

(Anonymous) 2013-09-30 06:17 am (UTC)(link)
WANT. Want want want want want want want want...someone? anyone? PLEASE? Bueller?

Elaine/Murphy

[personal profile] patrick_diomedes 2013-02-15 08:19 am (UTC)(link)
Because it's still Femslash February

Minor Cold Days spoilers, I guess

(Anonymous) 2013-02-15 07:48 pm (UTC)(link)
Thomas/Justine/Andi/Waldo Butters

Some nice, fluffy, friendly group sex. With informed consent about the vampire feeding thing.

Bonus points if Butters takes notes FOR SCIENCE!!!

Re: Minor Cold Days spoilers, I guess

(Anonymous) 2013-09-30 06:18 am (UTC)(link)
...if I include this in my longer fic, what will you do for me in exchange? *grins evily*

Crossover w/Thor. Loki Dresden & Custody Battles.

(Anonymous) 2013-02-18 03:08 am (UTC)(link)
In his capacity as the Winter Knight, Harry Dresden travels back in time there wouldn't be a law against it if it was impossible and for some political reason or another sleeps with King Laufey (hermaphrodite Jotuns for the win!) unknowingly resulting in Loki, who was not abandoned persay, but rather a King just can't take off time from the War to go off and quietly raise a kid. Cue babysnatcher!Odin and off we go...

Back in the present Harry learns his little trip actually resulted in an offspring that is still around. A powerful magic user. Who may or may not have suicidal/genocidal/warlock tendencies. His parental/protective instincts go into overdrive and he demands his (not so) baby back.

Feel free to ignore DF Norse Mythology, or alter it to suit needs.

Crossposted to Norsekink:
http://norsekink.livejournal.com/11337.html?thread=27024713#t27024713

Sort of Self-Fill: Freezer Burn 1/1

(Anonymous) 2017-01-07 01:46 pm (UTC)(link)
Characters: Loki, Harry, Odin, Random Aes Audience Members
Kinks: Gore. Whippings. Loki crying.
Pairings: None.

A/N - I totally forgot I ended up doing a kinda self fill on LJ because thoughts would not go away. Figured since I stumbled upon the original prompt again I should cross-post.
---

"…blue. Blue is nice color. I -like- blue…"

Loki thought he had prepared himself for every eventuality. Should he win, he would rule Midgard and keep it safe -from itself if need be- and should he lose, well… he'd been raised to embrace death in battle, if not to foolishly seek it. Pain was something he had long since become intimately familiar with. When the Chitauri fell, and Hulk's thrashing of him released the chains Thanos used on his magic, Loki hastily spent what energy he could repairing the excess damage before being carted off like an unruly animal.

"…your -uncle- has blue. Sometimes. Got his -cheekbones- too. Or, -no!- yeah, your grandfather's cheekbones. Mother's eyes..."

He thought he might receive an execution if only to remove whatever stain on the House of Odin his existence left. The All-Father certainly felt nothing for him, nor did Thor. Oh, Loki was certain Thor felt some level of guilt, but it was not the grief of two once-close brothers separated. It was the unsettled stomach of twice-thought, of knowing that one should feel bad yet did not.

Frigga, as ever, remained a silent supportive pillar as her husband and king handed out a coward's sentence. The Angel-in-the-House did nothing as whispers like snakes broke out in mumbled dissent. By all rights, Loki should have been locked away, exiled, or executed. Builders had been killed for lesser crimes. For the first time Thor balked at being the executioner.

But of course, killing the jotun meant all of Odin-King's hard work in rescuing and raising the changeling runt was for naught; would be tantamount to admitting a mistake.

The High-King of Asgard did not make mistakes.

"…my dad was an -illusionist-, you know? No, you probably don't. But -the- things he could do w-with -light!."

Nothing prepared Loki for the portal, blue-edged and crackling with cold, that sliced through the air just behind the throne.

Despite the snow the traveler tracked in with him, and the stature that surpassed Loki's own, it was not a Jotun that stepped through but a mortal. A mortal wizard with magic that was achingly familiar. An entourage of fey creatures followed the wizard; mostly sprites zipping through the air brandishing tiny blades when the Einherjar on duty stepped forward.

The wizard only had eyes for Loki, even ignoring Odin's demands, and when earthy-brown met glacial blue the mortal wizard became anything but. He was a scarred, spitting, demon of a wolf in human clothing. His den was carved, no, melted out of watching earth and coated in ice. Figures flitted at the corner of Loki's eyes, and the vague imprint of a woman -though Loki wasn't sure how he knew it was a woman- was burned into a far wall. In the center was a pile of gold that the beast jealously, zealously guarded, but when Loki chanced a closer look into the hoard -the wolf snarled, and sniffed, and then all but pushed Loki into it- he saw not the pressed images of long dead rulers and kings but everyday people. Blonde women. Brunets. Scarred men. Children. Some smiling. Some not. A single silver coin bearing the loveliest woman lurked at the edge.

Loki had not prepared for such. When the wolf-wizard stood in front of him, his sprites fanning out like an honor-guard, and demanded rite-of-kin Loki could not stop the tears from falling. Though it was a slavering, lead tongue that dropped the words, they were well rehearsed. Laws and loopholes aplenty. Thanking Odin for so generously fostering a lost child. Apologizing for having taken so long to retrieve said child. Claiming full responsibility for not rearing his son properly, and transferring all guilt and the decreed sentence over to himself. Legally.

And Odin, oh, Odin could say nothing, as ineffective as his astute wife less he choose between losing face or losing the faith of his people.

Loki's trial was so very public.

"…no, no, no. It's gonna be, be… be… okay. Don't cry. Please, -don't- cry. Uh, ah, wanna hear a story? I never -got- to read you bedtime stories. How 'bout this: A Long Time Ago, In a Galaxy Far, Far away…"

Loki wept. He wept and was grateful for the muzzle that left him some dignity. He wept for the arms that embraced him, that made him feel small and protected, for the blood dripping around them that was his yet not. He wept for the magic that sang through his veins and had always set him apart. Loki never had the patience for Aesir rune work, or natural gift Jotun Ice-Craft, but now he knew what he did was mortal magecraft. Loki cried for each and every one of the hundred lashes that Odin declared to be his punishment, though not a single barb-tipped whip touched him.

The trickster had long since grown used to laughter and jeers at his expense. His punishments had always been met with mirth, and not a single person had offered to help when his mouth was sewn shut…

But the only thing he could hear was his own muffled breathing and the dazed, pain, love- filled , hitched babble of his father as the whips continued their work. No one in the chamber laughed. No one jeered. Occasionally someone gasped, grunted in disgust, or walked away.

Then it was over, Loki's chains dissolved, and his father slumped unconscious. The wolf-wizard's heart was still beating. What would have left an Aesir -or a Jotun- broken for weeks should have killed a mortal, magus or otherwise.

"Loki…" A voice soft and unsure. A hand raised.

His father's back was a ruin of meat and blood. In several places the whip's claws had dug down to the bone, and caught.

His father was cold.

Was breathing.

A raised hand found itself cut with a line of steel, and backed off.

"Home, lordling." A small, child-like and oddly somber voice said by his ear.

"Home?"

He slung his father's farm around his neck, carefully hauling him up, and one of the larger of his father's court stepped forward to assist. He nearly didn't let her, and felt his own face try to twist into a wolfish snarl.

That not-child voice again. "Demonreach, my lord."

The earth that watched, eyes like green coals...

"Okay." His father was unusually cold for a mortal. "Okay."

Re: Sort of Self-Fill: Freezer Burn 1/1

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