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dresden_kink_mods ([personal profile] dresden_kink_mods) wrote in [community profile] dresden_kink2011-07-19 08:28 pm
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Round Four IS CLOSED

Round Four is closed to new prompts and fills. Go to Round Five

| Round One: open only for feedback, WIPs continued in The Overflow Post or Round Four |
| Round Two: open only for feedback, WIPs continued in The Overflow Post or Round Four |
| Round Three: open only for feedback and WIPs continuation |
| if you previously continued your WIP in The Overflow Post or Round Four, keep going where ever you like, just link link link! |

Round Four: Closed

Read this first. Do it. It's not here to be pretty.

The Rules. Including the Posting Guidelines. aka:

In the first line of your fill, please include:

Character(s)/Pairing(s)/Threesome(s)/Moresome(s) as applicable; Any kinks included; MANDATORY WARNINGS if there is dubcon or noncon, underage characters in sexual situations, and/or major character death. 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.

For images: Please post image prompts and fills 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"]. If you are linking to an external image, please include a description with the link.

Thank you.

The discussion post is here. Mod questions go here. The delicious account is here.

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.

Comments in chronological order: http://dresden-kink.dreamwidth.org/2675.html?view=flat

Any prompts, fills, discussion, or meta featuring authentic Ghost Story spoilers should be posted on the Ghost Story post.


Bring Not All Mischief 11/?

(Anonymous) 2012-01-20 02:36 pm (UTC)(link)
"Speaking of Thomas," John continued. "I was thinking about what you were saying earlier. My birthday is coming up, and Mr. Hendricks normally arranges for a party for some of my… associates. It's not entirely a business affair." John waved a hand, tired. "Airing out the entrepreneur/philanthropist mask. You can probably guess what it's like. I wouldn't normally invite Accorded beings, as they tend to sound like fruitcakes to those not in the know…" Harry huffed a laugh. "But that would not be an obstacle to Thomas. I was wondering if you would like me to extend him the courtesy of an invitation?"

Harry's face brightened. "Yeah. I think he'd like that, actually. Family matters to Thomas. You including him… yeah. Thanks, John. When is this?"

"The fourteenth," John said.

"I should have guessed you for Virgo," Harry said. "That's really soon."

John shrugged. "I imagine the invitations will be going out in the next few days."

"Although," Harry began, and sat up a bit further on the pillows. "I have to ask. Is this your real birthday, or your official birthday?"

"It can't be both?" John smiled wryly.

"Well, yeah. Most people's are. But you know what I mean," Harry retorted.

"It's my official birthday. But only just. I was born on the thirteenth, just before midnight. To my mother's parents, it was the fourteenth, and my yaya never could keep it straight in her head. Building this life… I left everything behind that I could. This was -- something I could keep, I guess," John said. It had been such a long time since he'd talked about it. Hendricks knew, of course, but Hendricks knew pretty much everything there was to know about John, and what he didn't know probably wasn't worth knowing. They didn't dreg up old ground like this, though Hendricks did acknowledge John's true birthday, a couple of drinks, a night in, a movie… something old friends might do anyway. Nothing needed be said.

"Huh," Harry said thoughtfully. "You're going to be a pain to shop for. You already have everything you want."

"Most everything, yes," John agreed.

"Only most?" Harry said, plainly looking for a clue.

John smiled. Harry would not want the truth, and they were having such a nice conversation, so John did not give it to him, just as Harry could not, or would not, depending, give John those things he truly wanted: more power; Amanda healthy. Chicago safe -- Harry wanted that every bit as badly as John did, and worked every bit as hard for it. Bled every bit as much, and more besides. "I'm sure you'll think of something in time, dear."

"I'll ask Hendricks," Harry said.

"You do that," John said, amused, before a thought hit. "But if he suggests philosophy, he's trolling you."

John's party was a masterpiece of lavish elegance. It was sufficiently warm and dry for the party to be held in the garden (though John's careful staff ensured that there were rooms in the mansion on standby, should they be needed). The glorious colors of the natural world, sunset on fallen leaves, had been the focus of the decorator's attention. Low-key lighting and live music, and the best food and finest wine, and what more could one want? It was gorgeous and mellow, and if John suspected Hendricks had designed it all as a metaphor for middle age, he could only enjoy it, because it was so artfully done.

John would have been enjoying himself more, however, if his husband had deigned to make an appearance. He was fingering his gifts -- a fifteenth century copy of The Flower of Battle, from Gard, for which he suspected he would need to buy a climate-controlled vault, and which he should probably stop touching, and a recent edition of The Lost Love Letters of Heloise and Abelard, from Hendricks, who was getting gratifyingly wily in his own middle age -- when John was approached by Thomas Raith.

"What did Harry decide on, in the end?" Raith said, like a man launching an opening salvo.

John raised an eyebrow and responded far more coolly than the belligerent tone merited. "I do not know." He spread his hands. "As you can see, Harry has yet to put in an appearance."

"You think he's forgotten all about your little fete, don't you?" Raith remarked.

The thought had crossed John's mind, but he was not in the mood to engage with a cranky vampire. "I have no doubt that whatever has detained Harry is of the greatest importance."

Raith snorted, and his stance eased somewhat. John didn't believe it for a second. "Liar. But I'm sure he hasn't forgotten you, he's been bothering everyone for weeks for ideas about what to get you." John tried to picture this. It didn't quite fit in his head. But Raith was still speaking. "I suggested sex toys. Everyone likes sex, and there are just so very many to choose from. Dildos, vibes, plugs, jewelry. Oh! And that's not even getting creative. I asked him if you were kinky. He didn't say, but he did blush, so I assumed that was a yes. What's your poison? Ropes, chains, handcuffs?"

In a very low tone of voice, after checking they were quite alone, John managed to breathe, "You realize this is your brother's sex life you are so graphically speculating on?"

The smile Raith returned was pure White Court Vampire, and John was suddenly deeply regretting inviting his brother in law into his home. "You are a fool, John Marcone," Raith said, smile showing, just as suddenly, rather a lot of teeth. "My brother didn't forget your birthday. If he's not here, it's because he can't be, and I can't figure out how the Baron of Chicago can keep on top of everything else, but can still lose his consort. And this is not the first time."

It was blindingly obvious that there would be no third time. John remembered what Harry had said about his brother. You were safe, because I rely on your protection, and he wouldn't jeopardize that. But you have to understand, he could have killed Hendricks, right there, and you couldn't have stopped him. And I hate to say it, but it probably crossed his mind. But John had had his cage -- literal and metaphorical -- rattled by beings with many centuries more experience, and exponentially more power, than Raith. John kept his gaze and voice perfectly level as he answered. "My consort is perfectly fine, Mr. Raith. I have men following Harry whenever he leaves the house. And they have an hourly check in, which they have met. If Harry is running over schedule, they are required to check in every fifteen minutes, though they are not, as a rule, asked why Harry is late nor what he is doing. If the check in is more than one hundred twenty seconds late, I am alerted. Harry is fine. Though if you would care to step into my study, I will call his team and you can verify that for yourself."

Raith nodded, and as they walked entered the house, Hendricks and Gard fell into line beside them, though John waited until they were in the downstairs study -- a reading room off the library, really -- to explain. Hendricks pulled out his phone, and quickly double-checked that all the check ins had been made. He nodded blandly. "Next check in, just under seven minutes."

"Nonetheless, Mr. Hendricks," John said, "I would like you to put in a call to the team."

Hendricks picked up the phone on the desk, dialing one-handed and reading the number off his smart phone.

"Put it on speaker phone," John instructed quietly, before the call connected.

"Rossi, Hendricks," Hendricks said before Rossi had a chance to say anything.

"Yeah, boss?" Rossi's voice came wary over the phone.

"Dresden's running more than a little late, Rossi," Hendricks said. Hendricks, expert multi-tasker that he was, had his attention split between the call on the line, and whatever his fingers were tapping into his smart phone.

"Nothing I can do about that, boss," Rossi told him.

Hendricks sighed. "Just tell Dresden to call his husband."

"No can do, boss. You know what Mr. Marcone said about Dresden wanting his privacy," Rossi said.

"Alright. I'm moving the check ins up to ten minutes, and the window down to sixty seconds. So I don't hear from you in six minutes, Dresden's is not the only ass getting kicked. Capiche?"

"Yeah, boss. I hear you," Rossi said. "I'll see you when I see you, I guess."

Hendricks grunted and cut the call.

White Court Vampires didn't do embarrassment very well; Raith merely looked subdued as he apologized. "It would appear I over reacted," he began.

"Not at all," John replied, mouth dry. "I'm sorry to say you were correct. Harry is indeed in trouble."

"What?" Raith managed, gesturing to the handset. Gard, attention grabbed by his tone, looked up from her own quick tapping on her smart phone.

"We cannot assume that a compromised team can send a distress signal," John explained grimly. "So in a call like this there is also a code phrase that essentially means that all is well. Rossi did not give it. We did get some other information from Rossi -- he isn't being held with Harry." John turned to Hendricks. "Send a clean team down to the mail room. I want you to know if Rossi's actually been calling in, or if someone down there's been sending up false positives. And if they have -- "

"The last time Rossi called in. I know, boss," Hendricks said quietly. "I've sent a team. I've also sent a team to Dresden's office."

"Michael Carpenter spoke to Harry this morning," Gard broke in. "No other known contacts have reported seeing or speaking to him today."

John nodded, feeling very cold, though his heart beat far faster than it ought. "Mr. Hendricks, send a fixer to McAnally's. 'Rewards for information leading to', you know the drill." He turned back to Gard. "I doubt we have time to organize Einherjar. Contact Karrin Murphy, and ask her to round up whatever battalions of Dresden's private army she can. After which, I'd like you to prepare the nuclear option." He said this calmly, and truthfully, he felt at peace saying it. If it truly came down to that, yes. He would do it. Ever-watchful Gard took his meaning immediately, and nodded once.

"What's the nuclear option?" Raith asked. John had no doubt that Raith was down with whatever was on the table, so long as it resulted in getting his brother back.

"I contact the Leanansidhe, and confess my failure to her, and beg for her aid in getting Harry back safely," John told him bluntly. He took in the faces around him, a portrait in shades of gray. "We have one hour, people. Let's get to it."

Re: Bring Not All Mischief 11/?

(Anonymous) 2012-01-20 03:24 pm (UTC)(link)
Great to see this continued. Still enjoying it immensely! - OP

Re: Bring Not All Mischief 11/?

(Anonymous) 2012-01-21 10:00 am (UTC)(link)
I'm very glad you are! We're not so far to the end though.

Re: Bring Not All Mischief 11/?

(Anonymous) 2012-01-20 03:33 pm (UTC)(link)

So... so... GUH. *whimpers and is ded*

Re: Bring Not All Mischief 11/?

(Anonymous) 2012-01-21 10:01 am (UTC)(link)
*Starts CPR*

Glad you like it!

Re: Bring Not All Mischief 11/?

(Anonymous) 2012-01-20 08:16 pm (UTC)(link)
Yes! Very much enjoying this.

Re: Bring Not All Mischief 11/?

(Anonymous) 2012-01-21 10:02 am (UTC)(link)
Thanks! That's great to hear.