Dear necromancers, why would you bother summoning human corpses when dinosaurs are an option
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Dear necromancers, why would you bother summoning human corpses when dinosaurs are an option
Harry Dresden and Dean Winchester
Letâs face it, Harry doesnât look like the sort of person that anyone is going to look at and go: damn, that guy is fine. In reality, people are more apt to do that with Dean because they can overlook how he canât stretch out his hands fully, or the scars that he has on his arms and body. They think that his nose (which has clearly been broken and reset a few times) is cute. They like the smell of car grease and oil that seems to stick to him. Frankly put, they think heâs attractive with his worn jeans, work boots, flannel over some dark colored t-shirt or long sleeved shirt. People like to pick fights with him. They think that he can be an easy notch in the belt. They donât notice the weapons that he carries on him, or the way that he seems to know when someone is coming up behind him. He carries himself like a tired old war veteran who saw too much and has trouble adjusting, like the bottom of a whiskey bottle will have the answer because itâs either the bottom of a bottle or the barrel of a gun. Dean is wound tight. His focus is internal. His anger is directed inward. Heâs Atlas carrying the weight of the world, and by the time that people figure out that he has a hair trigger to go with the thousand yard gaze, itâs too late, and heâs already acted, reacted, and left. Harry, on the other hand, heâs the sort of guy that youâd see walking towards you and youâd instinctively cross the street to get away from. He radiates power - and he looks wholly out of place. Heâs a jeans/t-shirt/black leather duster/staff sort of guy. Heâs 6â9. Heâs battered and scarred to all hell. Heâs got a scar that literally cuts a cavern into the side of his face, a brand on his shoulder of a snowflake and not the wonderful Disney variant of the Blue Fairy either. Heâd make vampires look tan for thatâs how pale he is. Heâs flashy. He makes himself a target. He demands that heâs the biggest fish in the pond so that things go after him and leave others alone. He puts his foot in his mouth more often than not. He got go a full conversation without puns or pop culture references. If Dean is a soldier following orders, Harry is a mercenary with authority issues.
Dean tries to buck the system but will ultimately fold to it. Harry will break the system from the get-go. Harry plays nice with gods, as long as they play nice with him. Dean kills gods and turns away angels. Harry has a cat named Mister. Dean is allergic. Harry has a large Foo Dog named Mouse. Dean has a dog that is probably a shiba inu, and he says that if Mouse is a mouse, than his dog is a Mo, hence, the dogâs name. Dean has a Black Shuck that haunts his shadow, and if Lydia Martin ever saw him, sheâd never be able to stop screaming. Harry solves problems, after he creates a huge mess. Dean kills monsters and leaves a mess in his wake. Theyâre a mess together, as they are apart. Theyâre rough with each other as much as theyâre total saps. Harryâs apt to grab him by the throat. Dean is prone to biting. Weâll just say that their sexual relationship looks more like fighting than it does something tender from some knock-off romance novel. Theyâve yet to learn what âgentleâ means because the world has taught them to fight, and at this point, theyâre just glad that they have someone that can withstand what they do to them instead of 1) leaving or 2) dying. When they fight, things get broken. Words are said. Doors are slammed. They donât leave. They canât agree on what sports team to root for to save their lives. Harry is a cubsâ fan. Dean roots for the Red Sox. Harry is diehard Blackhawks. Dean goes for the Rangers. Theyâre more into hockey than baseball, though, if the Red Sox makes it to the World Series, forget about it. Dean drives the Impala when heâs not in Chicago. Harry pays the tax to drive his blue beetle around the city (Dean wonât ride in the car). Theyâre a mess. A strange composite of similarities and opposites. They both fight monsters, and they both become one. Their grip on their own humanity is weak at times (for now). Harry has Chicago. Dean has New Orleans. They share San Francisco. Harryâs magic is maternal, and heâll never be able to pass it on. Deanâs magic, the men of letters bloodline and craft, is paternal, and while heâs rarely accessed it (save for angel smiting and demon trapping), his children could be taught. Should he ever. Which is doubtful. Some more strange things: Harry works for the Winter Court. Dean was kidnapped by the Summer Court. Harry made a deal with Mab. Dean made a deal with the Erl King. Harryâs angels are trapped in coins. Deanâs angels are bloodthirsty bastards with wings. Harry has a half-brother named Thomas, who is a white court vampire. Deanâs brother, Sam, was the chosen vessel for Lucifer. They both lost their homes to a fire. They both moved around quite a bit and were screwed over by their paternal figures. They both found surrogate fathers (one in Michael Carpenter and the other in Bobby Singer). Harry breaks all things technological. Dean is a known genius when it comes to building something from nothing and fixing things. Deanâs more apt to start a fight with the supernatural. Harryâs more apt to try and talk it out - and when that fails (as it always does, very quickly, as Harry puts his foot in it), then he finishes it, and makes things worse.
Ehhh, so you withdraw from the real world for a month or two. Â Â I was preoccupied with... uh, things, so sue me.
Lee Pace as the incredibly sexy Joe McMillan in Halt and Catch Fire episode 9.
womankxng:
 "No offense, Knight, but it doesnât look like youâre doing a very good job staying out of such a thing." She held out her hand to him. "Winter Knight, I heard through various people that I can trust you. As long as I donât pull you into something dangerous, which I wonât. I need to ask you a few questions."Â
"Okay so, the bit with the urban naiads getting into fisticuffs with the equally urban kelpies was way overblown and turf wars are difficult to handle because everyone is so sensitive," he sighed, more or less done with the whole fiasco and all the bumps and bruised it had landed him with this time. Harry took her hand, when offered, and shook it firmly.
"Call me Harry, please. Knight's just the gig," and he wagged a finger thoughtfully, adding: "Questions about... ?"
womankxng:
 "Dear Knight -" Oh, she knew. "When you are struck down, are you going to claim that itâs just a flesh wound?" She was half serious and half joking.Â
"Actually, I plan on avoiding the whole 'struck down, flesh wound, bite your legs off' ordeal entirely. Doesn't seem that healthy for my future prospects," he retorts, in the same manner that she asked her question. Both serious and making light of it.
#AWWW - I MISS STUPIDFACE
Neener neener neeeee-ner.
Callie Jacob in 2x05 âTruth Be Toldâ.
"Hey, Winchester. I've got no idea what your plans are, but I got you something." That 'something' happens to be a very small, very wiggly puppy that doesn't like him at all, judging by the way it growls in a tinny voice and thrashes in his arms, trying to bite his fingers.
tiredofthisweight:
It wouldnât be the first time Dean threw him in it either. Shit happened. "I heard stories of you stepping down from policing Chicago. I also heard the rest of the shit that you got yourself into. I think that half of the people that know me want me to take you down. Sometimes I consider it - âcause you do some stupid as hell shit." He scoffed. Did he think that heâd forgotten or did he want to throw it in his face? âYou know, we were a couple of blazed kids livinâ the high-life, barely makinâ ends meet. I think we smoked or drank through most of it and âm surprised we werenât arrested, but that was over ten years ago, and now youâre beinâ all Wizard of Waverly Place here, anâ âm huntinâ. It was good when we were kids - letâs get back to the shit at hand.â  "You feel like sharinâ about the White Court?"Â
 "If you want to call it that," Harry hummed. Chicago had filled his big-ass boots in the year he'd been dead-ish and comatose; so, stepping down was as close to how things really happened, because he had new boots to fill in Winter. That was the thing about stories. You never let on which ones were true and which ones were your personal mythos. Something he had a feeling Dean Winchester knew a heck of a lot about, what with the stories he heard about him. The stories he'd been an active observer in.
 "Raith family is the one you don't want to tango with, because their political alliances keep Chicago afloat half the time and drowning the other half." Also, because his half-brother was a Raith, and he'd defend him without hesitation. "Couple other family branches were either wiped out or sent running scared to wherever they come from a few years ago. They all prey on some sort of human emotion or energy: lust, fear, despair. You're born White Court, not turned. They have fewer vulnerabilities than most vampires because of it. What else?"
tiredofthisweight:
He could kill him. He had it all planned out. His wouldnât be the only body that ended up in Lake Michigan. ââm lookinâ for somethinâ, all right, Dresden? Iâm not wanderinâ into your turf because of anythinâ more than things are startinâ to heat up anâ my job leads me here.â He paused for a beat too long.  "You know where itâd be, asshole."Â
It wouldn't be the first time his dead body had wound up in the Lake either.
"I was just... wondering if you, you know -- remembered. Like I do." Which pretty much meant he remembered all the time, especially when he thought of Dean. He couldn't not think of Dean without remembering San Francisco. "Look, I'm not actually overly concerned with what you're looking for, it's not like that. I don't exactly run the town anymore, I ditched my little 'Faux-Sherriff' badge and I never had a ten-gallon hat to begin with."
A small shrug, and his mouth curled into some sort of lopsided, rusty smile: "Really, I just wanted to hear you say it too. San Francisco. I remember San Francisco, so there."
start.
"Aw, Winchester, you know that's not an answer. Yeah, this place is a massive crossroads, but that doesn't tell me what or who you came here to cross paths with. Again, if it's me, you know I'll be super-hospitable for as long as I can."
A pause. " -- sooo, where would you meet me?"
whitefoxcalamity:
You try saying âWinchester-Dresdenâ every time you want to call to Harry. Besides, he sometimes doesnât answer if you go for the pure âMr. Dresdenâ angle. "No, itâs the long-lost evil twin."  He stepped inside anyway. âйаŃŃ is going out of town, and it isnât madreâs turn for another couple of months. I was stopping here before i figure out if Russia is where I want to go.â The last thing he wanted was for his mother to find out that he wasnât with Jon and get upset, or, if he went back to Italy to be with his mother while his father was doing business, it would screw up the arrangement, and that wouldnât end well.Â
"Gasp. I knew it," he exclaimed gently, hands rising to clutch at his face as though he were absolutely shocked by this turn of events. After which, he settled in and shut the door behind Illarion. He and Dean been close to his mother for a long time, years even, and Illarion was just as welcome in their house as anyone who'd they'd welcomed.
Illarion was the boy who didn't know where exactly he belonged, and Harry was quick to slap a hand on his shoulder companionably as he lead him in to the kitchen and invited him to take a seat, make himself comfortable. "Well, you know I won't say a word." Harry was, after all, awfully good at withholding information and keeping secrets. A bad habit turned to the advantage of the kid. "Out of town, where? Do you have to go with him?"
whitefoxcalamity:
 "Hey, Mr. Winsden â-"Â
Winsden. Way to make him sound like some high stakes tennis championship, kid. ( Don't let him get to you, he secretly loved the sound of that mishmash of names. )
"Illarion. Is that you? What are you doing out on the porch, come on inside."
swaggermage:
âŚYâknow, we could drag race.
Don't look at me, I learned my lesson the last time I enchanted a broom.