Now with 900% more fangirling than you may be used to

WHAT DO YOU MEAN BARTON'S BEEN COMPROMISED, COULSON? Do you mean he's a Skrull? Has his undercover mission been blown? Or has Tony compromised his virtue? These are IMPORTANT things that need to be known!

The Skrull theory could explain why Natasha appears to be trying to kick Clint in this still here from the trailer:

Because otherwise, BAD NATASHA! Do not kick Clint!

Undercover mission being blown is bad, because Hawkeye is so adorbs.

See?

So he needs to be rescued, of course.

And if it's Tony. Well. I can't blame you Clint!

Because the man is like a force of nature.

A delicious, delicious force of nature.

*cough*

And I have had the realization that I totally should have made Marcone be the undercover identity of Clint in that one fic where Marcone and Phil Coulson are exes. Because it would make perfect sense and then I wouldn't have to tell people that no, just because I made Marcone's real name be Tony I didn't mean TONY.

The Arc Reactor wouldn't survive close proximity to Harry for one thing.

In conclusion:

Natasha is made of all the things that are lovely and awesome.

Clint is adorable and I want to put him in my pocket.

Tony and Harry would have a torrid affair that would last all of maybe ten minutes until the excitement made Harry short out the Arc Reactor. Then Tony would have to be removed in a hurry. Clint, however, has the aim and the badassness to be John Marcone.

And Joss Whedon had best not kill anyone in this movie, OKAY?

Camp NaNo

Turns out I'm not writing the fill for that prompt I mentioned. Though I'm holding on to that for maybe later.

I decided to do the sequel to another long fill I did called Lost in a Life, where the punishment for breaking the Laws isn't death, but being enslaved by a collar. Harry kills Justin, etc. and winds up eventually being bought by Marcone. The original prompt was for dubcon, but the fill was definitely noncon (in the sense that Harry *couldn't* say no), with mindfuckery, etc. So now I'm writing the sequel to that, where things happen four years after the first one ended and Harry gets part of his control back and John has to deal with that and the fact that stockholm goes both way and then I'm throwing Hendricks in the mix so it's going to wind up as a threesome. *headdesk*

tl:dr - slave au's are awesome and I'm writing more of one

TWO THINGS! Both Dresden Files related, god help us all...

1 - There's a Camp NaNo this year. So...uh...I'm doing that? WTH. Pretty sure it'll be this prompt from the kinkmeme: 'Ever since I read With or Without, I've been obsessing about the following:

"My dreams, every night since I'd seen Thomas were...they were filled with Marcone. And not the old one, the one where Marcone drugged me and locked me up in a tiny cell beneath his mansion until I broke."

I really, really want to read about Marcone drugging Harry and locking him up in a tiny cell beneath his mansion until he broke. Gen is good, Marcone/Harry is better.'

I'd originally thought to split off from canon toward the end of Fool Moon, but someone commented suggesting the end of the train scene in Death Masks. And...I like it. So probably that.

2 - TALK ME OFF THE LEDGE! I'm considering buying my copy of Ghost Story and getting it signed through the Dog Eared Books Virtual Signing. Which would mean that the copy of the book would cost me about $35 instead of $14. Keeping in mind that I'm also buying the book on Kindle for $14 and audiobook for $30. So I don't need it signed, right? Right?

HALP!

So, um, I'm considering posting the mpreg fic to MafiaBanter, even though it's only just started, etc. I'm kind of loving it and my beta loves it...

BUT I need a title.

Thoughts? Do any of you see any issues with it I need to clean up before I post?

And most importantly, title ideas! I *suck* at titles.

Fic dump-ish post

Okay, additional bit from the end of the last part of the museum stuff from the mpreg Dresden fic that I am not officially writing:

Marcone never really woke up. I mean Gard and Hendricks got him dressed and on his feet between the two of them, muttering and cursing at them in Italian, but he was not fully conscious. It was worrying and I asked them to wait while I checked him out. I poked and prodded but couldn't find any spells clinging to him - he was just really, really worn out.

We exited the museum more or less together. There was a huge black van parked right in front of the doors. A guy appeared from around the far side and slid the door open, revealing an interior that was probably nicer than my apartment. Hendricks let Gard take Marcone and hopped up into the van, causing it's body to sink several inches, then reached back and took Marcone again, guiding the half-conscious man into a seat and buckling him in.

I wished I had a camera. It would impair the whole, 'never talking about this again' plan, but how many people got to see Marcone being handled like a sleepy toddler? My eyes wandered a little and I noticed that there was a form sitting in the seat to the far side of Marcone. It was hard to see around the boulder that is Cujo but the person looked small, nearly fragile. I caught a glimpse of shoulder length brown hair and wrists that looked like they would shatter in a stiff breeze and then Hendricks shifted and blocked my view entirely. Huh. Curiouser and curiouser.

Gard was talking to the random mafia guy as they walked back to the other side of the vehicle. Hendricks loomed over Marcone and slammed the door shut. Which is kind of impressive when it's a sliding door. As he did so I grinned and mimed taking a picture. Weird magical doings was no excuse for not giving Hendricks shit. The mafia-mobile took off and I headed home for a quick shower and then several hours of sleep.

~

And now for something else that I am totally not writing. You don't see it.

Kato stood on the bottom step of Britt's porch, staring at the pool. Britt was already in, paddling idly and grinning at him.

"C'mon. You've got the trunks on so you might was well get in."

"I do not want-"

"Yes you do. You *asked me* to teach you to swim. Weird thing is, you have to get in the water for that. So get on in here!" Britt kicked over to the edge of the pool and rested his arms on the lip, the small scar in his shoulder smooth and unnatural against his tan. "Don't make me come over there and drag you in."

Kato snorted and rolled his eyes. But he came out of the shade of the porch and walked cautiously over to the steps at the shallow end of the pool. Britt slipped under the water and swam over to meet him, emerging from the water with a little tidal wave.

"We will take this slow, yes?" Kato dropped the towel he'd been carrying to the deck and stepped onto the first step, then on down until he was waist deep in the warm water.

"Slow as can be. We've got tons of time, I'm an awesome swimmer, and Mr. Lobster over here," Britt dragged the pool float off the edge of the pool and into the water with him. "will be here for backup." Kato nodded and Britt swam a little farther back, giving Kato room to come off of the steps and stand on the bottom of the pool. "First lesson: floating!"

"I do not float. I sink."

"*Everybody* floats. You don't float because you start flailing around like a nut job. Watch." Britt released the lobster and lay back, arms spread out a little bit from his body, just letting the water hold him and move him. It was so quiet and peaceful with his ears under the water all he could hear was the dull thud of his own pulse and breath, the slick slide of the water around him. He stayed like that for a few minutes until a hand wrapped around his ankle, dragging at him. Britt swung his legs down and under him until he was standing again. Kato was just standing there, his hand still resting on the surface of the water, staring at him.

"What?" The other man just shook his head, lips pressing together.

"I cannot do that."

"Sure you can! It just takes a little practice." Britt slapped the water softly, patting it almost. "Look, I'm going to be holding you, okay? You've gotta get used to the feel of the water, the way it moves around you. You need to learn that it'll hold you up. And then you can trust it and not flop around and make yourself sink."

"You will not let me go." Suspicion was clear in Kato's black eyes and in the set of his shoulders.

"Hey, are we xiong di or not? I won't let you go. I swear I'm not fucking around with you here. Trust me." He dropped lower in the water, until his shoulders were covered and held out his arms, waiting. Kato hesitated, long enough that Britt felt a stab of pain - the fact that his friend didn't trust him enough for this hurt. Then Kato sighed and started to lean back into the water.

Britt had to move to actually get under Kato, but manage to get into position so that by the time he was more or less laying down Kato could feel Britt's arms resting beneath his shoulders and the small of his back.

"Now you're just gonna relax, okay? I've got you. You're safe. You just need to relax and let your body feel the water moving." They were good for a few minutes, Kato slowly relaxing from the quivering tenseness of fear and then the pool pump kicked in. The noise startled Kato, loud in his ears after the relative silence and his head dipped, water splashing up into his nose and eyes. He spluttered and kicked, hands flicking out and smacking Britt across the jaw without any real force.

Britt staggered at the shifting weight in his arms but maintained his position, arms under the twitching man, lifting him a little more in the water. The realization that Britt was still there sank in and Kato slowly managed to get himself under control again. He opened his eyes and wiped the water out of them, smiling sheepishly at his friend.

"Sorry." Britt just shook his head.

"No problem man. You good?"

"Yes."

"Wanna try the next part?"

"What is it?" His voice had lost the earlier suspicion. Kato no longer sounded like he thought Britt was playing an elaborate and nasty prank on him.

"Same thing, mostly. You float, but this time without touching. I'll keep my arms right under you, but just a little deeper than before so you have to trust the water." Kato considered and then nodded. "Great. Ready?" Another nod and Britt let his arms drop, just a little. The water bobbed Kato up and down so that every so often his back would hit the outstretched arms, letting him know they were really still there.

Britt waited, and watched. He could see when Kato began to relax into it, finding the peace that Britt always had in the slow movement of the water. Gradually he dropped his arms a little more and then a little more until they were a good half a foot beneath Kato - still there in case of trouble, but letting him float on his own.

Kato had closed his eyes at some point and was smiling a little, just a curl at one corner of his lips, nothing like his usual smirk. A breeze ruffled Britt's hair and he shivered. The wind was cool against the drying skin on his neck. He brought his arms back up under Kato and jiggled him a little, getting his attention.

"Feel good?" he asked when Kato focused on him and lifted his head out to hear better.

"Yes. It is very nice when I am not drowning." Britt grinned again.

"Then we're ready for the last part of floating." Kato quirked an eyebrow in question. "Tandem floating!" Britt slowly pulled his arms out from beneath his friend as Kato watched. As he lost his support Kato's arms naturally spread out a little, balancing himself against the water. Once Britt was satisfied Kato wasn't going to sink like a stone he leaned himself back into the water, legs popping up. He twitched his feet a bit paddling the water and then floated, arms out.

Slender, callused fingers brushed his, accidental at first and then with intent. They slipped over his hand and then curled, joining them together but not gripping tightly in fear. Just a light touch, reminding each of them that the other was there.

Egg baby or real pregnancy. I can't decide!

Everything ached.

The haze lifted slowly, sensation returning bit by bit but every sensation that came back was achy and tired. It felt like I'd been running or lifting weights or something. Not painful, but I knew I'd been doing some work. Thinking past that, I realized that I was flat on my back, pinned by something warm and comfortably heavy. I grunted and opened my eyes, blinking to clear them.

Marcone's salt and pepper hair filled half of my vision. His body was the warm thing pinning me down. It took a second for the implications of that to sink through and then I jumped, which didn't get me far since I was still beneath him. He shifted a little at my jerky movement and muttered, sliding his arm up my side and threading his fingers through my hair, holding me still. It was all very gentle and I realized that Marcone was asleep. Holy hell. I wasn't sure what to freak out about first. That Marcone and I were both very very naked or that Marcone was a snuggler. Or maybe I should be freaking out about Gard and Hendricks who had moved from where ever they'd been standing and were now looming over us.

"Uh." Gard's face was impassive, but Hendricks looked pissed. It's hard to tell that from his normal expression, but I was fairly certain he was trying to decide on the quickest way to rip my head off. I could almost see smoke trickling from his ears. Then I blinked and realized that the smoke really was there. "Hey, Cujo, did you know you're on fire?" Thin wisps of smoke were dancing off of his short red hair which did, now that I was paying attention, look a bit singed. There was more smoke coming off of his clothes as well.

"Not any longer. We put him out a few moments ago." Ms. Gard reached out a hand and stopped it over something that I couldn't see until her hand got close. Then it lit up in a faintly reddish dome. The barrier was pretty big. Maybe ten feet high and when I turned my head I could see that there was plenty of room between us and the edge of it where it met the floor. "If you could drop the shield, Mr. Dresden?"

"That's not me."

"I am aware of that. However, you are the only wizard within the circle, so could you kindly attempt to will the circle away? It has withstood our efforts from the outside."

Well, that made a little bit of sense. I took a deep breath and pushed out with my will, trying to turn the circle 'off'. Nothing happened. I waited a second and nothing continued to happen. Crap. I reached up and took hold of the hand Marcone had in my hair. His fingers lost the loose hold they had and I pushed his arm back toward him and rolled until we were both on our sides. Marcone huffed, still asleep, and let me extricate myself. Unfortunately he took hold of my duster which had apparently been spread out on the floor under us and rolled in it like it was a blanket. Which left me bare ass and starting to shiver. Perfect.

I stood and did my best to ignore my little audience. Gard had stepped back and the dome vanished again until I took a few steps. It flared back into being as I got close to where the edge of it had been, only it wasn't red this time but the same faded green that I'd seen right before the lights went out. I felt around with my own power, trying to get a sense of what was powering this thing and what it might do to me. It didn't feel dangerous or malevolent. Just very solid. I knelt and pressed my hand forward, trying to wipe the circle away like I would with one that I'd drawn in chalk. I moved slowly and smashed my fingers into the very real wall of whatever. However it was done it was a hell of a shield. Fuck.

"It's pretty solid from this side. It's not reacting to me at all." I glanced over at Hendricks and then turned to Gard. "What did it do when you guys tried to take it down?"

"Nothing. It rebounds anything solid thrown at it with minimal damage and seems to have simply absorbed the magics I tried."

"That looks like a little more than minimal damage." I pointed at Hendricks' still smoking form. "You said he'd been on fire."

"Yes." Gard's mouth twitched in a small smile. "Mr. Hendricks thought that perhaps the bird had had something to do with this and tried to remove him from the situation. Your bird, unsurprisingly, is not a very cooperative soul." Hah."I got the creature back into its cage and we put Mr. Hendricks out." That little smile again. So glad I wasn't the only one who thought this was funny.

"If Dresden can't drop the shield from in there, what're we gonna do?" Hendricks was, clearly, trying to change the subject. I smiled at him and he turned away from me. "We gotta get the boss out of there."

"I am open to suggestions. Mr. Dresden?"

"I don't know. I have no clue what the hell is going on." I paused as a very unpleasant thought slid through my brain. "You two do know I didn't do this, right? I didn't attack Marcone. We were just standing there and suddenly, boom. Naked cuddling on the floor."

Gard shook her head. "I believe you. We arrived...shortly after the event. You were most definitely not the aggressor." She grinned, a real baring of her teeth in amusement and Hendricks' ears turned cherry red. Damn. I took a second and really catalogued my body. Sore, tired muscles, a slightly sharper pain on one side of my neck, and a fairly heavy throbbing pain in my ass. It wasn't awful but it was new and unpleasant. Now that I'd noticed it it wormed it's way into my consciousness, little claws digging into my lower back. Great. Just - just great. I made the executive decision to not think about it. "Regardless of how it happened, we do need to get you two out of there."

"Oh yeah. I would really, really like to be gone before Marcone wakes up." I hadn't quite closed my mouth and there was a shivering in the air around me. A small 'pop' echoed in my ear, like the air pressure changed and the shield flashed once, briefly and then disappeared. "Really?" I slowly stuck my arm out and through the space where the shield had been before. Nothing. I waved it up and down and side to side. Just air. "Huh. Well, there you go."

"Okay. Here's the plan. I'm going to find my pants." Gard picked them up from a display case to her right and tossed them at me. She had all of our clothes except for my duster it looked like. "Perfect. You two can have sleeping beauty over there. I'll take my coat. We'll all just walk away and never speak of this again. Sound good?" Gard rolled her eyes and moved to start extracting Marcone from my coat. Hendricks just nodded vigorously.

I'm writing fic at work. Mpreg fic. Is the handbasket ready yet?

I was feeling pretty good about this one. I'd been hired by the mother of a teenage pyromancer. The talent ran in the family so he had plenty of training, but random fires were still popping up in his neighborhood and school and the authorities were eyeing him as a budding pyromaniac.

Turns out the kiddo had attracted a little flock of firebirds. They were pretty, but tended to set things that they roosted on for too long on fire. I'd caught and released most of them back into the Nevernever, but there was one large one that had escaped my first trap. Using a feather I'd yanked out of his tail I'd tracked him down to the Field Museum and cornered him and trapped him. He was trilling out a very unhappy song in the cage but, as is the way with birds, it was still pretty. Sure, a few corners of the room were blackened - firebirds, as you might guess by their name, can spew out little balls of fire kind of like a miniature dragon. But the building was not on fire and everyone was unharmed. All in all the case had gone really well.

There was a soft almost-sound behind me and I turned, half-expecting the rumored night-security guard to have finally caught me.

John Marcone stood leaning against one side of the door. It was a pose meant to look casual but I knew better. Marcone was always alert. The half-grin did look real though.

"I should have known. Where there's smoke, there's you." He pushed off of the wall and moved toward me. I sighed and picked up the cage, shaking it gently in his general direction.

"Why does everyone always assume that I'm setting things on fire? I've only burned down two buildings. The smoke's from the damn bird."

"Yes, yes. I'm certain. I would like to point out, if I may, that your two burnt down buildings are still two more than the average citizen can claim. And you've set fire to a great many more things that didn't have the poor luck to be entirely engulfed."

"Whatever. I didn't burn down anything tonight. We'll call that a win." I glanced around the room, checking for anything I might have dropped that could clue people in to my late night museum visit. "Hey, what're you doing here anyway?" I turned my gaze back to Marcone, focusing on his green eyes. It was nice, if such a word could be applied to anything having to do with a mob boss, to be able to meet someones gaze straight on.

"I have a key." He'd walked past me and was examining something that looked like a lump of rock to me but was under glass so I assumed it was at least an important lump of rock.

"Oh, of course. Of course you have a key. Why the hell do you have a key to a museum? A lot of arms deals go down in the pre-Etruscan exhibit do they?" Marcone sighed and straightened up, turning to face me.

"Harry," in that chiding voice he had, "the museum doesn't have a pre-Etruscan exhibit. You really should spend some time here. It's very educational."

"Don't call me Harry." But it was more automatic than anything else. "Fine. I still want to know why the hell you're here in the middle of the night."

"For culture." And his tone said, 'of course'. "I am a major donor to this facility and in return they are very understanding about my strange hours and the difficulties involved in my getting here during normal hours."

"You bought yourself a museum. I- I'm not even surprised." I shook my head and turned to walk out the door. The firebird, which had been still, chose that moment to fling itself against the magically reinforced bars of the cage. It was only the size of a chicken, but it was *strong*. Strong enough to pull me off balance. Surprise flickered through me and I tried to correct and wound up leaning too far in the other direction. I went down in a tangle of limbs, the cage slipped out of my hand and my head thumped into something much softer than the floor.

I closed my eyes and wished that I was somewhere else.

"Harry. I would appreciate it if you could get off of me." Marcone's voice was dry and empty. He was either laughing at me or pissed. I wasn't sure which option was worse.

I sighed and got my arms and legs under me, pushing up so I was crouched over Marcone. Feeling ridiculous at keeping my eyes shut, like some kid hiding from the monster in his closet, I pried them open. Marcone was sprawled on the floor, eyes hooded and staring up at the ceiling past my shoulder. Shit.

"Sorry." I muttered and pushed back, kneeling and then standing between his sprawled legs. Manners got the best of embarrassment and I reached down to help Marcone up off the floor. He took my arm without hesitation and rose, compact and graceful even from flat on his ass. It just wasn't fair.

Marcone started dusting himself off, still not looking at me and I left him to it, going for the stupid bird. The cage had held and the firebird was clucking in agitation, his bid for freedom having failed. True to my luck I'd managed to lose the cage right into one of the displays. There was glass everywhere and the dumb lump of rock Marcone had been checking out earlier was on the floor, cracked.

Great. Maybe no one would notice. I picked the cage up and pulled a face at the bird. "If it was up to me you'd be in a pot in an hour. Dumb bird." I leaned down and scooped up the rock.

"Well. Now we're more on track for you Harry. You've managed to inflict property damage." Marcone crunched over the shards of glass and reached for the rock. I pulled it out of his reach. Childish and yet still satisfying.

"Screw you. It's just a rock and technically the bird broke the case, not me."

"As you like." I glared at him. He was definitely laughing at me. I grumped and let him grab the rock this time. The electric shock that shot up my arm and down through my body was sharp and not painful enough to feel anything but good. I had a second to raise my eyes to Marcone's and see a reflection of shocked feeling in them and then the world dissolved into a green haze.

Marcone

Here's the thing. I just finished up Fool Moon on the audio books in my car. And I have just realized, again, how awesome Marcone is. The whole scene with him dangling over the pit and MacFinn and the knife throw...and he still banters with Harry.

Mostly because they're having UST at that point, but whatever. Marcone is just...incredible.

That is all.

And oh I really need a visual for this scene. So, comic or movie or a tv show that actually follows the books. Gimmie!

See, here's the thing...

There's this really awesome Harry/Marcone fic being written over on Mafia Banter that is just awesome. And it's sort of killed my enthusiasm for my fic because of it's awesomeness. Because it's just so much better than mine! Wah! *makes exaggerated wailing sounds* I can only sit there and obsessively read it because it's, again, so great!

So I've been playing around with silly little fics and bewailing my lack of talent. Blargh. *whinemoan* I'll get over it. Perhaps I shall just write some pwp...

Ah, crap

I have an idea for a Marcone/Harry mpreg.

*throws hands in the air*

I need to finish the fic o'doom!

*makes shifty eyes*

I don't know of any Dresden Files mpreg in existence though...

I Know What My Problem Is Here

I've been having problems with the editing for the Dresden Files Fic o'Doom. It's just not working as well as I wanted it to. But I've just realized what the problem is. Marcone and Harry are too freaking *nice* in my fic. I'm listening to the books in the car and just finished Death Masks on my reread and I've realized that Harry and Marcone are not 'nice' people. They're just not.

See: Harry and Marcone both agreeing that shooting Nicodemus in the back and letting Michael hack him to bits afterward is the best idea. And then actually following through and shooting him in the back when the opportunity presents.

Hell, see Harry torturing Cassius for the information they needed.

Harry's a good guy but that doesn't make him 'nice'. In many ways Harry's only the good guy in comparison to the bad guys. Same with Marcone. I just need to keep that in mind when I'm reworking the fic. Don't shy away from a path just because it's kind of dark and people may not come out the other end the way they started.

What brought the realization on, you may ask? A combination of the reread and then this quote caught my eye yet again:

'Every normal man must be tempted, at times, to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats.' 

And I thought: Marcone's just a guy who has hoisted the flag and started slitting throats. Because the alternative was even worse.

In addition, I am thoroughly convinced that Marcone is ex-military of some black-ops-y flavor.

VICTORY IS MINE!

Yes, Murdock is saluting me! MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! *mad cackling*

And now, I shall finish watching the commentary on my Psych dvd and then go to bed. And not look at this fic for a week. :D

I Amuse Myself

'Really, I'm surprised gravity stays constant with you around, Dresden.'

Murphy. I am totally picturing Murphy saying that one.

Marcone and Dresden Interaction from Fool Moon

His face twitched again, and I could smell him lying. "Of course not, Mr. Dresden. But you don't get where I have in life by being reckless."


"Just by being soulless, right?"


Marcone slammed his palms down on the desktop and stood. I rose with him, enough to stand over him, and to keep my eyes on his. "I am a man of business, Mr. Dresden. Would you prefer anarchy in the streets? Wars between rival crime lords? I bring order to that chaos."


"No. You just make the chaos more efficient and organized," I shot back. "Stick whatever pretty words you want onto it, but that doesn't change the fact that you're a thug, a fucking animal that should be in a cage. Nothing more."


Marcone's normally passionless face went white. His jaw clenched over words of rage.

Okay, okay, I know I have slash goggles permanently attached, but I was reading this scene at lunch and it hit me that Marcone doesn't get really pissed until Harry starts telling him that he's a thug. An animal. Harry, even at this early stage of their relationship has insulted him at pretty much every opportunity. But *this* this is the part that pisses Marcone off. I think he really does see himself as the best option, lesser of two evils, whatever you want to call it. He really does believe that he's the good guy here, as much as anyone can be. And I think, from the Soulgaze, that he *likes* Harry. He's seen Harry's soul, and not flinched. No one else has done that. Whatever he saw in there I think he respects Harry and wants Harry's respect back. Two hard men doing hard things for the greater good. And no, my belief here is not Jossed by the revelations from Even Hand. Marcone is practical and he knows that physically he is playing out of his league when he's dealing with the supernatural world. Harry's powerful, and he just keeps growing more powerful. Having a plan in place to take him out should the need arise is very much in character. Harry and Marcone are enemies who respect each other. And aren't really enemies anymore anyway. Really. Even if they don't want to admit it. And that's even *without* my belief that they are secretly boinking each other. But they *are*.

The 'Za Lord's Guard - Heraldry

I'm thinking a tommy gun and a wizard's staff on a field of pizza. :)

NaNo Update-y thing

I'm in the middle of torturing Harry. And I mean that literally. I'm keeping most of the actual torture off screen, because I think it's actually worse that way. Let the imaginations run wild kind of thing. I wanted to detail the torture at first, but it's not really...it's not the point. This isn't *that* kind of fic.

I already know, with the direction that the fic is taking that I'm going to have to go back and lay down some bits in the rest of the story. Things that will lead up to what's going to save Harry, and get him with Marcone.

Day 11

Oh good god. Look, boys, as fascinating as the whole discussion thing is, hello! assassins! slightly more important!

And then at the end of the fic we have sex. Wherein Harry has come twice, and Marcone just wants to get in there all ready!

Can we...can we get there, please? Foreplay's all well and good, but there has to be play at some point! Though what they've done does count as sex, don't get me wrong.

Day 10

I'm alternating between writing action in the middle of the fic and porn at the end of the fic. So on the one hand someone just tried to kill Harry, and on the other hand Marcone and Harry are having smexy times.

Is it weird that Harry still calls Marcone 'Marcone' in bed?

NaNo Week 2 - NO EDITING!

I have this terrible urge to go back and start editing. I know that there are parts that I'm not particularly happy with. Bits that I'd like to change. Places where I think that Harry might be a bit OOC.

I will resist this urge. Editing is for after NaNo is over. Then I can go back after taking a break from it, read and edit. Tighten it all up. Fix any OOC bits I notice.

And really, it's not OOC for Harry to sacrifice himself for the safety of others. It's just that he's doing it without blood shed this time, and for a far greater number of people. I think it's just bugging me that I want him to be Harry, but he also needs to not smash things into kindling. After all, he and Marcone wind up together in the end. I like to think of this as Harry being a grown-up and 'taking one for the team' a little.

Day 9

SLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

I am strangely tired tonight. Luckily I just finished my word count and some change and will now go collapse into unconsciousness.

YAY!

Also I'm starting my Dresden Files reread and am tempted to analyse it chapter by chapter. Time consuming, yes. Worth it, maybe also yes.

Or maybe just character sheets?