Chapter Text
Title: Hail Conquering the Heroes
Chapter: 6/6
Rating: M
Story Warnings: Explicit M/M,Torture, Non-Sexual Non-Explicit Breath Control (I don’t know what else to call it), Ritualistic Murder/Dismemberment, Brief Blood Drinking, Violence, Homophobic language, References to Child Abuse and Rape.
Relationships: Harry Dresden/John Marcone, Bob Luccio/Nathan Hendricks
Characters: Harry Dresden, John Marcone, Merlin (Arthur Langtry), Bob Luccio, Nathan Hendricks
Chapter Summary: Arthur Langtry gets less than he deserves, but more than he wants.
Part of my Dresden AU Series.
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Dresden leaned intently over the ancient vellum, muttering quietly to himself as he translated the ancient Latin into English.
He was surrounded by a small pile of books that he had pulled from the overflowing shelves of his library.
Marcone suppressed a smile as he heard curse words flowing as easily out of his lover’s mouth as the Latin.
“Problem love?”
“Several. I’m missing punctuation like you wouldn’t believe; and word elisions are a fucking bitch.”
“Harry?” Marcone’s let his eyebrow furrow as he heard the stressed undertones.
“I’m almost done, it shouldn’t take me more than another half an hour. I’ve got the list of ingredients that we need to create the potion. It’s going to be painful but we’ll need to start the second ritual as soon as possible after the potion is finished.”
“You know I trust your prowess.”
“Hmmm.”
Harry didn’t even seem to notice the dirty purr that had twisted John’s words into a crude double entendre. He just hunched even closer and narrowed his eyes to try and bring the blurred and badly spelled words into clearer focus.
Marcone gently pushed the vellum down onto the table and pulled his lover away from the table.
“What’s wrong?”
For an instant Marcone thought he’d broken through as Harry tore his eyes free of the Latin and looked him in the eye. The spark of connection broke as suddenly as it had flared and Harry’s mouth flattened as he averted his face.
“It’s nothing. I need to get this finished.”
John sighed, letting his frustration peek out from behind his mask for a bare instant before he pulled away from his much taller lover.
“As you say, Harry. Best of luck.”
Harry watched silently as Marcone strode out of the room. He always strode, always had purpose in his stride. Running a frustrated hand through his hair Harry wrenched the too tight hair tie free.
“Fuck.”
He stared unseeingly at the partially translated rituals in front of him. Arthur Langtry was a man who could dig underneath his skin and rearrange his sense of self with just a couple of words.
He didn’t want to use the old shit for this. His death would be useful and ultimately would lead to a safer and more secure stronghold against opposing forces both magical and mundane.
Harry really just wanted to gut him and watch him bleed out helplessly on the floor.
The thought that his relationship with Marcone was all based on the sick perversion that the Council had inflicted on him over the years had always been floating through his mind. It’s vicious little teeth digging in occasionally when he was feeling his happiest.
Langtry’s words had dug through his skin, as they always had. Past and present winding around each other inextricably.
Marcone was nothing like the Council. Two consenting adults, no matter the gender, was not a sickness.
He just needed to remember that, because if the Council took this from him as well, Dresden wasn’t sure that he’d be able to survive the aftermath.
He was finally happy. Happy with Marcone. Happy with his life, for the most part.
The White Council, the Red Court, and any other assholes that tried, through words or through might, to rip his happiness from him deserved to burn.
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Bob stalked through the door that led down to the laboratory.
Harry had been hunched over a small pile of ratty vellum and Marcone had been stalking towards the master suite muttering about a shower. From the way his usually neatly kept hair had been standing away from his head he likely needed to cool down from whatever fight he had gotten into with his lover.
So with a firm grip on where both of his bosses were Bob thought it was absolutely past time to go and have a ‘talk’ with Langtry.
After all the ritual needed him alive, with his meat pulsing with enough blood to fill the runes. Losing a pint or two shouldn’t negatively affect the bloodletting portion of the upcoming ritual.
Langtry was curled around himself, his thinning hair sodden with sweat as the wards that surrounded him kept the heat his body threw off close to his skin. When he heard light footsteps coming closer Langtry rolled his head off of his pulled up knees and stared blankly at the woman in front of him for a moment.
Eyes widening in recognition Langtry scrambled to his feet.
“Thank God! Get me the fuck out of here Luccio. Who sent you? Was it McCoy?”
Bob smiled brightly, his yellow eyes glowed as he looked up faux demurely through his eyelashes.
“Where have you been?”
Langtry recoiled sharply, yelping when his back came into contact with the wards. Each subsequent contact with the magical wall seemed to glow hotter and hotter against his skin.
“Demon.”
“You fricking wish.”
“Now my Boss is a man who likes to do things for himself. Not afraid to get down and dirty as it were. But I do try and keep him from the filth of humanity as much as possible.”
“That little cocksucker is less of a man than any eunuch that walks this earth.”
“Just because he has the equipment and doesn’t go sticking it in whatever holes are available? That is a talent that you would have done well to emulate Arthur.”
“I am the Merlin of the White Council! I’m a better wizard, man, and human than you could ever hope to meet and you should be groveling at my feet soulless monster.”
Bob gently tapped one of the swirling runes that covered the ward walls. It lit more brightly than its neighbors before dulling.
“So, former Merlin of the former White Council, how well versed are you in runes? Have you kept up? Read the latest Magic Monthly?”
Langtry’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion and fear as he swept his eyes over the darkened rune trying desperately to parse what it’s removal meant.
“No?” Bob’s smile was mean. “Let me give you a hint. This ward was designed in such a way that everything that is in it, stays in it. What do you think would happen if the rune that allowed for things to enter the ward was turned off?”
Langtry’s expression turned pale as he realized it wasn’t just terror that was making him short of breath.
“I know you’re the very best of the best Merlin. But every fragile little human needs oxygen!” Bob chirped happily before his face darkened and he let his long hair sweep down to shadow his face.
“Let’s see how long you can go without it.”
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Nathan met Bob as he slipped out of Dresden’s lab, his eyebrows stretched upwards towards his hairline as he took in the nearly post-orgasmic lethargy that had overtaken Bob’s pretty face.
His eyes were at half mast and his hair was in tangles as though he had wound unthinking fingers through it until the normally smooth mane had snarled.
Nathan could feel his breath deepening as he tried to hold back, to restrain himself. If he did anything that Bob didn’t like he’d probably end up thrown across the room in several different directions and pieces.
Bob had barely opened his mouth to try and explain before he was backed up against the nearest wall with a thud that knocked the air right out of him.
Nathan towered over Bob, his broad body and looming height covering the spirit in shadow as he bent at the knees so that he could reveal the creamy neck and shoulders to the light once more as he bent over the smaller body.
Nathan nuzzled his face into Bob’s slender neck, mouthing gently at the skin before he wandered further down and nipped at the nearly bare shoulder that Bob’s tank top did nothing to hide.
Bob’s gasp for air turned into a breathy chuckle as he wound his arms around Hendrick’s neck standing up on tiptoe so that he could wind his fingers through bright red hair.
“What brought this on?”
“Did you know that Marcone managed to put security cameras in Dresden’s laboratory?”
Nathan mumbled the sentence into Bob’s shoulder but the spirit heard him clearly.
“So watching me disobey orders while I, mentally and physically, torment child rapists turns you on?”
“I’ve got this...thing, for powerful people.” Nathan pulled away from the smooth patch of skin he had been laving with his tongue so that he could look into Bob’s burning jack o’ lantern eyes. “Competence is rarer than one might think.”
“So you’re crushing on Marcone too?”
“Marcone is a man whose willingness to subsume his own desires makes him nearly impossible to consider anything other than a very scary person. Honestly before Dresden I thought he had quietly killed and buried his sex drive completely.”
“I think most people would think that I was a ‘very scary person’ as well.”
“You absolutely are.”
“But?”
“But, your desires and emotions are front and center 100% of the time and your self-control is only good when it has to be.”
Bob’s smile was gleeful.
“It’s like you know me or something.”
Nathan smiled before he slowly slid to his knees rubbing his head into the gentle softness of Bob’s flat stomach as he wrapped his arms around the petite waist.
“I don’t think I do. Not yet. But I’d really really like to.”
Bob widened his stance, accepting the heavy head easily against his slim form. He bent over slightly, rounding his shoulders and once again winding his hands into the silky soft hair that caught fire in the sunlight.
“You only want me for my body.” The words were soft and amused but Bob let his eyes narrow slightly as he waited for a response.
“Honestly I think you could have possessed anyone and I would have found you attractive.”
“But the boobs help.”
“Yeah,” Nathan laughed low, “The boobs help.”
Tightening his fist in the red hair Bob gently pulled Nathan to his feet. Hendrick’s allowed himself to be lead, keeping his head slightly bowed easing the pressure on his scalp as Bob tugged him easily down the hall and towards the small suite that Dresden had given to the newly embodied spirit.
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Harry swept into his lab easily, face frozen in an icy mask that warmed and shattered as he caught sight of Arthur Langtry. He threw his head back and let loose a peal of incredulous laughter as he took in the sight in front of him.
Langtry was barely conscious, and as he scrabbled weakly to stay upright Harry could see the burns that had bit deeply into the Merlin’s palms and fingertips leaving them bleeding sluggishly where the heat of the wards hadn’t seared them to a blackened crust.
At some point the man had lost control of his bladder and the beautiful formal white robes were stained an ugly yellow that had spread rapidly through the fine fabric.
The proud sneering monument that had loomed so heavily over him was collapsed in a pile of flesh and piss brought low before his very eyes. A soft animal moan wavering in and out of existence as though screaming had made anything louder a painful impossibility.
As Harry contemplated the tableau in front of him he let his magic stretch out towards the runic wall to see what he could sense. His smile grew fond as he recognized the familiar tang of Bob’s magic and Harry felt a loosening in the invisible chains that had bound his chest so tightly as he had struggled to translate the vellums contents.
This man. This pissing, sniveling, burning pimple on humanity’s buttocks was not worth his grief, his terror.
The boogeyman had been dragged into the sunlight and had been revealed to be nothing more than a scab. Easily scrubbed clean and removed, one more blemish removed from the world though the scar would only fade not disappear.
“I see you’ve met Bob. He’s a good fellow to have around, even if he doesn’t always obey orders. Though for this particular pleasure I might just have to give him a bonus. Really Arthur, he didn’t even touch you so stop whining.”
Dresden turned away from the cheering sight and he picked up the heavy satchel and snatched a nearby empty cauldron before disappearing from Langtry’s line of sight.
He was gone for only fifteen minutes and Langtry struggled to regain control of himself. He flinched away from the walls of the cage and tried to murmur soft words of healing that would ease the ache of blackened flesh even if it couldn’t numb the pain completely.
As his magic flickered out of him in a spotty erratic static a single rune lit up brightly drinking in the ambient magic and stealing away the power to add to the cages own strength.
When Harry came back into sight he had to restrain another laugh before his face tightened back into its previous facade.
Harry strode up to the runic cage, gently pressing his fingertips in a glimmering pattern that shimmered and hummed tunefully as he began to work the sensitive magic as though he were playing in instrument.
The walls that had encircled Langtry tightened and their golden shimmer deepened to a honey brown as they began to sink into the elderly wizards skin burning through his clothing until it had turned to nothing more than ash leaving Langtry bare to the air.
When Harry finished his work, the only evidence of the magic that had cut deeply into pale skin were a few pale runes that caught the light and tightened like scars on the wrinkled flesh and a thin layer of ash that dusted his skin wherever he had been wearing clothing.
The restricting cage made Langtry howl raggedly before he choked himself off as it only increased the pressure. The burning light still sparked and flashed against his flesh in burning waves but he couldn’t move, could barely breath, the magic allowing him to take shallow breaths that only pressed his skin more tightly against the painful wall.
Dresden reached down and grabbed the frozen dead weight and pulled Langtry, the slippery magic letting him slide the smaller man easily across the concrete floor, towards a clear space whose only defining feature was the slight slope in the concrete that led down to a drain and a spigot in the wall that had a small hose wound around it in neat loops.
The only out of place item in the barren corner of the room was a small table that held a small empty cauldron which smoked from the heat of the bunsen burner another cauldron that bubbled and roiled with water, and seven different collection pieces.
Harry released his grip on Langtry’s collar and let the man fall with a dull thud that had his white head rapping sharply against the cold concrete. He looked down at the felled man and he clenched his right fist. Once. Twice. Three times. Before shifting his weight enough that he could slam the point of his shoe into fragile ribs. Fracturing bone and fiery burns crackled as the skin beneath the clothing began crisping and smoking.
Langtry’s breaths became even more labored but his eyes were at half-mast as he reached eagerly towards unconsciousness.
Dresden smiled before snatching up the hose and turning the icy water on full force letting it drench Langtry and bringing him sputtering back to full consciousness against his will.
“Don’t you go anywhere Langtry the fun has only just begun.”
Harry groped at his throat and ripped down opening up his shirt with a rough hand, ignoring the flying buttons and tearing cloth. The sudden cool air against his skin made him gasp with relief as he panted heavily.
His pupils were blown and Harry wanted nothing more than to take another vicious kick at the mewling maggot in front of him. The only thing that stopped him was the arm that wrapped around his waist gently.
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John scrubbed his short hair dry with a towel, a slightly larger one slung low around his hips. The shower had been less of a thorough cleansing, a ridiculous idea considering the types of fluids he was likely to be splashing around in soon, and more a cool rain that allowed him to ease his temper and rein in his frustration.
Harry had been curling into himself ever since they had returned from Saint Louis. His eyes darting towards Marcones profile when he thought the man wouldn’t notice. Something like fear had crept across Dresden’s face. Something like love.
Pulling on a silky pair of pajama bottoms, and nothing else, John padded down the carpeted hallway, down the stairs, feet picking up a little more swiftly on cool wood before he eased his way into the laboratory and onto the slight grit of less than smooth concrete.
Harry towered over Langtry’s sniveling form, his hair hung in lank sweaty handfuls on his head and his tailored shirt was pulled from his pants and hung raggedly open with missing buttons and slight tears proving the ferocity with which he had loosened its elegant chokehold from around his neck.
He looked madly beautiful. A Hyde erupted from his empty Jekyll shell. Marcone slipped up next to Harry and wound a hand around a slim waist with one hand while the other tugged gently at a clump of hair. The sweet pressure brought Harry’s head around and he looked into money green eyes without immediate recognition.
“I think we’re just about ready to start love. Have you got the knife?”
The spark of recognition finally lit and Harry grinned sweetly leaning over to swipe a long Chef’s knife that had been encased in an intricate leather sheath from the small table that held all of the potions ingredients before he offered it to John on an outstretched palm.
“You once said that you wish you could have killed Morningway.”
“I do.”
“Well I need your help with this particular potion. I’ll add all of the ingredients in a certain order and would truly appreciate your assistance in butchering the sacrifice.”
John gently snatched the sturdy blade from the soft palm.
“Don’t forget, we need him alive until the last ingredient has been added to the potion. The blood and pieces will stay more magically connected to a living animal than a dead one. Meaning that the potion will be more potent the longer we can keep it alive.”
“Let me be your hands Harry. Let me do this for you.”
Harry leaned in close and delicately kissed the corner of John’s mouth.
“Let’s get started.”
Harry pulled reluctantly away from John as he sat on the floor cross legged so that he could lean in close over the cauldron.
John tied the sheath of the knife to one of his belt loops letting the knife hang easily from his hip to free up his hand.
Six small objects had been placed in front of the cauldron and John grabbed the first piece, a syringe.
“The base of every potion is a liquid. Any liquid will do, but considering the second portion of the ritual is sex based, semen would be the most apt but I don’t think you’ll be able to get enough. You’ll have to mix it with blood.”
Marcone’s face deadened as he turned to look at the naked wizard in front of him. With a hard hand he grabbed one of the hairy sacs roughly and stabbed the long needle into the delicate flesh.
Langtry’s howl was almost inhuman as John pulled the plunger back until it was filled completely with a frothy mixture of semen, and when the pressure waned, pushed the needle more deeply until dark blood welled up to turn the mixture a pinky red.
When he pulled the needle out of the thin skin more blood immediately welled up from the deep wound and it began to pool inside of the runic wall which kept the blood from hitting the concrete.
Harry pulled the syringe out of John’s grip easily his fingers strong and steady as he poured the mixture into the cauldron which hissed and foamed almost immediately.
“I’ll need his nose next. For scent.”
John grabbed the petri dish which was next in the line before he crouched down next to Langtry’s head and unsheathed the razor sharp blade.
“How should I do this? We don’t want him drowning on his own blood.”
“Tilt his head to the right, there should be enough room that he won’t smother.”
“Fine.”
John leaned close and began to slowly peel Langtry’s fleshy nose from his face, careful to steer clear of any cartilage.
The rapid upwelling of blood caused Langtry to gargle helplessly for a moment before John turned his head with a rough grab at his chin and let the blood patter lightly down onto the runes which boiled the blood until it disappeared in a vaporized red steam.
“Might as well do it all at once, we don’t want him going into cardiac arrest from the shock. I’ll need a pinky finger, all of it, a good chunk of tongue, an eyeball and an ear.”
John didn’t hesitate and in a couple of seconds a small pile of body parts was arranged in front of Harry so that he could add them one by one to the potion easily.”
“The last two are going to be difficult. I need a piece of his brain, I think you can easily scoop some out of his nasal cavity but I’ll need to add that and then a piece of his spirit while he’s still alive and brain damage tends to kill pretty quickly.”
John looked over what was left of the worm in front of him, assimilating the information that Harry had given him quickly enough that he didn’t hesitate.
A small spoon that had been pulled out of an Egyptian tomb was swiftly pushed up and into Langtry’s brain through the hole in his face where his nose used to be. Rapidly handing it over to Harry, John reached forward and with a single motion of his hand magically gathered Langtry’s second to last breath before he flung it into the potion, where it hit with a discernible shriek of fear.
The bubbling roil immediately stilled and the potion changed from a lumpy mass of body parts into a smooth liquid that smelled faintly of rotten bananas and cologne.
Langtry’s body relaxed completely and the runic wards recognizing its prisoners death disappeared completely and the blood it had contained hit the ground with a wet splot that wound it’s way lazily over the water soaked floor before disappearing down the drain at the center of the area.
Neither man noticed.
Harry tossed back the entirety of the potion but let it fizz on his tongue and resisting the urge to swallow.
John tossed the bloody knife into the other cauldron that had boiling water in it to sterilize the blade before he lunged over the table and jabbed his tongue into Harry’s mouth. Pushing the thick liquid back and forth between their mouths the two men swallowed the entirety of the potion in a couple of gulps.
As the liquid bubbled like champagne in their bellies Harry quickly snatched up a scalpel and cut a thin line across both of their right wrists.
Marcone’s green eyes disappeared behind a rush of blood red color and he quickly latched onto Dresden’s offered wrist and began to suckle and lick at the shallow cut.
Harry’s eyes showed the same phenomenon and he was just as eager to gulp down the thick liquid from his lovers arm. He let the blood swirl around on his mouth for a moment tasting all of its undertones and flavors as though it was a fine wine before he lost patience and began to lap up any overflow that he had missed at first.
Their cuts tingled and sparked before sealing shut and Harry turned his head and with his tongue turned into a broad flat pad he followed a missed trail of red all the way down to John’s pointer finger which he sucked into the heat of his mouth. Letting his tongue swirl suggestively over the digit before he pulled away.
John nearly purred as he ground his hard cock against Harry’s blood hot dick and felt an answering erection.
They smiled at each other, white teeth smeared with a bloody film, an instant before their blood began to interact with the potion that they had previously ingested.
John was the first to fall to all fours and then flipped so that his heels and his shoulder blades dug into the hard concrete, a rumbling growl erupting from his throat as he wound his arms around his stomach feeling something begin to stir inside of him that he had only felt on the peripheral of what remained of his soul. For an instant the man disappeared subsumed by a vicious tiger larger than any natural cat could ever hope to be. His claws dug deeply into the concrete, digging up dust and leaving fresh furrows in the hard material before he was a man once more.
Harry threw his head back sharply unable to restrain his howl of pain as his own spirit animal erupted from the corners of his soul and bounded onto the physical plane for a brief moment. Dark brown nearly black fur hung off of the wolf and his fangs were almost too large for his mouth and he bared them in a heavy snarl before he collapsed onto the ground once again inside of his own skin.
The pain the brief transformations had spread over their bodies hadn’t been enough to dull their heavy erections and John dragged himself until he could drape over Harry’s broad body. He let his legs spread until he was straddling Harry’s slim hips and he pushed down hard on the erect cock the lube that he had used to loosen himself in the shower letting him sit down completely on the impressive prick in one smooth thrust.
John leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck while the taller man wrapped his arms low on John’s back and held his ass firmly against his pelvic bone.
Neither of them moved for many long moments, John savored the unaccustomed fullness and fought with himself until he was completely relaxed. Harry’s hips were making little aborted thrusts and each nudge gave John’s prostate a glancing stroke.
John orgasmed first, and he pushed down hard even as he felt his hole tighten and loosen spasmodically as it tried to pull Harry’s cum from him.
It only took a couple of sucking pulls for Harry to lose control of himself and his upwards thrust brought his buttocks off of the concrete and lifted John completely for several seconds.
They collapsed in a tangle of limbs, skins smeared with blood, cum, and sweat. The lovers whispered soft words to each other as they stared into eyes that had returned to their normal respective colors.
Neither of them paid any attention to the sound of dripping liquid and the scent of a recently dead animal.
It wasn’t important anymore anyways.
The past was done with, there was only the future to look forward to.
Fin
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