Happy super late but no less awesome birthday to Cypher, Jumper, and CanadianGoddess
Oh my girls. How you're so patient with me, I don't know. But I love you for it.. and I finally have your presents for you. ♥
For canadiangoddess:
Sandman/XFC, Delirium&Erik - in the worst of nights, the longest and loneliest, Erik finds that he is not alone...even if he wishes he were:
The first night is that night, a good deal into the darkest time of night, after he's sent them all away, even Raven (no, Mystique only, now, as though it helps her grieving), after he's been pacing and staring and pacing again, standing on the roof of some property Azazel keeps on the Mediterranean.
"This is madness," he says barely loud enough for even the wind to hear.
"No," she says, and there she is sitting on the railing beside him like she'd been there all along, her pink hair flowing out towards him against the breeze, "not yet anyway, but it's slip slipping that way, like breathing purple butterflies, except falling."
~
It's not until later that he thinks he should have been surprised by her presence, should have said something.
The next time he sees her she's sitting on the ceiling, a quartet of fish swimming around her, until they're zebras instead... and then bubbles; it's a little hypnotic, really, and he wonders if he's fallen and hit his head, or if he's just dreaming.
She laughs like bells chiming, and he almost thinks he understands.
~
"You're not mine," she says; she's leaning over his bed, where he's begun to go stir crazy after his last bout with Charles' so called students, and stares at him with mismatched eyes, smelling like popcorn and ozone, and he thinks the fishes are back. "My older brother will have stories told about you, my sister will dog your steps, and the twins have always liked you, pulled at you, but you aren't mine, no, because you're right, you know, but Destiny won't let go of that damn book and now things can't be what they should be."
She pauses for a long moment, before she stands, and Erik doesn't know if he's imagining it when he hears "I don't know what's Mine anymore..."
Apollo!au, Dionysus!RDJ/any - of things that are forbidden, and those that we allow:
He kisses her on the cheek as she embraces him, the vial hanging around her neck between them pulsing, almost warm, and for one moment (less, the pause between heartbeats) he's consumed with the urge to grab it, break it, to tear it loose and shatter it among them all.
He knows it doesn't work that way, that existence would lose something so vitally important instead of being bathed in it, and the moment passes.
"We've missed you," he says instead, holding her for a few moments longer; she tightens her grip on him, just a moment, just ever so briefly, and some of the hollow feeling fades.
Thor, Loki - falling to Earth didn't make him an angel any more than being born made him a devil:
He is not a falling star, or the morning star; he does not have wings, not whole or broken or denied; he was not cast out for his beauty or his pride, and he has never known the taste of the wind as bitterly as he does now. He falls in self exile, self loathing, falls because he is lost, because he cannot bear to see his Father look on him with pity (pity!) any longer.
He is not the destroyer, and for all the myths, he will not bring about the End.
~
Fate is an awful thing, a bitter spiteful thing, and the only thing he hates more than his own twisted existence is the Norns; although it's funny (and the vastness of space swallows his laughter, the atmosphere burns it out of him and sears the sky) because no one ever thinks about how that dream of Ragnarok, after all the bloodshed, after all the battle, all the death, is as simple as a new beginning.
There's no such thing as new beginnings.
The earth is hard and cold, and does not welcome him.
Avengers, Cap/Tony - things are different now, but this will always remain the same:
Steve is holding Tony's face when the words leave his lips, and Tony can tell he's trying to get Tony to look up, to look him in the eye, as though somehow that will make the words make sense, to make him listen. It takes him a moment to realize that Steve's finger tips are resting against his pulse, and a moment longer to realize that it's like putting his hand over Tony's heart.
Over his heart, not the miniature arc reactor embedded in his chest.
~
Tony looks away and takes a step back. Things are different, yes, but the Captain isn't seeing the whole picture, and really never has; no one ever does. He opens his mouth, wanting to say something, anything, just make Cap understand even a little, but what is there to say?
For orphan_project:
RPS, goth!Kane/Carlson, Anniversary:
"Interrupt them and I will cut you," Pauley says without turning to look at Mikey, and she can hear his teeth click as his mouth snaps shut. Chris and Steve are in the back, eating lunch (damn near a buffet, all hand made from scratch by Steve) and actually talking instead of fuming at each other wordlessly, finally, and it only took their goddamn anniversary to make it happen; she doesn't know who fucked up, doesn't care, and only knows that two and a half weeks is too fucking long for either of them to start making peace.
They're smiling now, at least a little, so she's pretty sure that a major foundation of the universe hasn't gone and cracked on her, cos as corny as it is, love like theirs has gotta overcome any kind of shit eventually.
RPS, goth!Kane/Carlson, Rhea comes back for another tattoo:
She blushes when she sees Chris, but she'd asked for him specifically after the amazing job he'd done last time; hell she made the trip up specifically for this tattoo, because now she just couldn't imagine anyone else inking her skin. The parlor is empty this time, except for Pauley, which makes the location she'd chosen for this one a little easier; it's a big piece, one that will stretch down one side under her arm, curling forwards along her ribs under her breast.
She doesn't last as long this time, not with Chris where she can see him, but the fine detail that goes in under her breast while she's holding herself up, the nipple between her fingers, brings her off again that much harder.
RPS, goth!Kane/Carlson, Breath Play:
*Not exactly what you wanted, I'm sure. But this is what Chris gave me...
Steve doesn't let him go, palms pressed against his cheeks, thumbs brushing lightly along the edge of his face, but Chris doesn't open his eyes; he can't, not yet.
"Focus," Steve says, gently enough, his breath warm on Christian's lips, but it still sends a shock of dread up his spine, "shh, breathe in."
Chris obeys, drawing in a long, shaky breath, losing himself for a moment in the way he can feel Steve breathing slow and steady beside him, trying to draw comfort from it, trying not to fall apart where he is.
~
"Hold it," Steve says, and Christian almost laughs at him, trembling with the need to screamlaughweep, with the need to curl in on himself; Steve holds him up anyway, stepping that much closer, and Chris obeys. "Now let it go."
The breath just slips away from him, and for a little while, everything else falls away.
RPS, spy!Carlson/Kane, vacation done right:
Chris picks Cabo, and Steve counters with Rio, so Chris tries Florence or Puglia. Steve offers Fiji instead, and it takes a few minutes for Chris to stop laughing before Steve can explain that no, really, Fiji, like Bora Bora, is brilliant and honestly not just a joke.
In the end they don't go anywhere, don't even go out (except once, for groceries, because Chris refused to order pizza again when they're both capable of making something more delicious... or amusing...), and half the time they don't even bother with the television, or with moving and just sprawl together in bed and just breathe, just rest for once.
RPS, spy!Carlson/Kane, a surprising secret:
"You..." Chris says, stumbling over his words, "you were married?"
Steve shrugs; it's not something he thinks about a lot, and it honestly hadn't ever occurred to him to mention, especially since it ended... poorly. "Was a long time ago, before I joined the Agency, and it's not like I had kids or anything..."
I hate you. No, I don't know who. :P
RPS, Clockwork!Boy, A present for him.:
Joseph stops at the gate, leaning against the worn stone and waiting whilst Christian jogs ahead alone; for a moment he can't see Christian anymore, and then he appears again in the open window, ducking his head and blushing like he's just a boy again. Joseph chuckles at his own quip when he considers the bauble Christian brought with him as a gift, a small trinket of wire and leather cord wound around a small crystal and an eagle's feather to make a necklace.
Anyone else would have chuckled a little receiving it as well (so few recognize it for the good luck charm it is), but as the clockwork boy steps into view, Joseph's heart clenches at the surprise and gratefulness he sees there.
For cyphersushi:
RPS, Steampunk!Kane/steampunk!Carlson, first night of passion:
Christian feels clumsy, a rough hewn oaf beside Steven's smooth elegance, light and fair and now that they're here, in this moment, Steven seems delicate, from the gentle curls in his hair to the flush of his cock. Even his calluses, an artist's calluses, nothing like Christian's own, seem soft.
But Steven doesn't seem to notice, or if there is any hesitance, he doesn't let it show, instead just drawing Christian closer to tease away what remains of his doubts with kisses, hands sliding along Christian's skin as though to memorize his shape.
RPS, Goth!boys, four shades of goth:
Mikey's always liked Rue Morgue, if for nothing less than people watching (... and maybe fucking with said people, but only a little, honest...). The place draws all sorts on this side of subculture, from the people with a little more class and culture, like Lee and Matt and Ewan, to the ones that are more theatrical, like that chick in the far corner that he's never seen come in wearing less than 18th century courtly mourning garb, and of course Kane falls somewhere in the middle, taking all the attention as they start rocking out on stage.
"Gawd," the latest poser says as he squeezes up to the bar, done up to the nines in shit Mikey's sure will have Hot Topic tags all over it, "why do they have a punk like this serving drinks in a goth club?"
Mikey grins; this is gonna be fun...
Avengers, team, curling up to look at a scary movie:
Steve covers his eyes, even though Tony laughs at him, and grinds out, "How can you watch this?!" The creepiness was bad enough, but this whole... whole... sexwithmaybesatan thing...
Natasha rests her head on Steve's shoulder (and now he can feel the way Clint is laughing, through her) and pats his leg.
~
"It is pretty fucked up," she says, and at least she sounds sympathetic.
Thor hums thoughtfully, the sound vibrating through the couch, before adding, "I do not understand; tricking her is despicable, but... how is this frightening?"
Steve whimpers; he's never letting Fury talk him into movie night again...
Can you name the movie? :g:
RPS, Steampunk!cast, a night of wonder and amazement:
When Jensen thinks about it, he is not at all certain about why it had never occurred to them to have a celebration aboard the airship; nestled so close to the stars, with Masters Carlson and Kane's music drifting along the wind, he can hardly imagine something better. Jared is practically giddy, drawing him toward the port side, where Lord Hutton and Master Morgan have been up to something.
A canon fires, up and away, and a moment later fireworks burst, painting them a new collection of stars and constellations.
RPS, K/C, teenagers up to no good:
They take Christian's daddy's truck without asking, sneaking a few bottles of beer from his cooler in the garage before they split, the moon already on the far side of the sky when they toss some junk in the back - a few cans of spray paint, a couple dozen rolls of toilet paper, silly string, and a lot of socks. Originally they planned on going to Billy's to get him back and get him good for that shit at the baseball game last week, but there's an accident on the corner and too many cops and gawkers to manage it, so they keep their heads down and tool a few blocks over to the lake front to wait it out.
Of course, they end up making out instead, fogging up the glass until it gets light enough outside to notice despite it, and they have to trip over themselves to get back to the house before the Kanes wake up...
For canadiangoddess:
Sandman/XFC, Delirium&Erik - in the worst of nights, the longest and loneliest, Erik finds that he is not alone...even if he wishes he were:
The first night is that night, a good deal into the darkest time of night, after he's sent them all away, even Raven (no, Mystique only, now, as though it helps her grieving), after he's been pacing and staring and pacing again, standing on the roof of some property Azazel keeps on the Mediterranean.
"This is madness," he says barely loud enough for even the wind to hear.
"No," she says, and there she is sitting on the railing beside him like she'd been there all along, her pink hair flowing out towards him against the breeze, "not yet anyway, but it's slip slipping that way, like breathing purple butterflies, except falling."
~
It's not until later that he thinks he should have been surprised by her presence, should have said something.
The next time he sees her she's sitting on the ceiling, a quartet of fish swimming around her, until they're zebras instead... and then bubbles; it's a little hypnotic, really, and he wonders if he's fallen and hit his head, or if he's just dreaming.
She laughs like bells chiming, and he almost thinks he understands.
~
"You're not mine," she says; she's leaning over his bed, where he's begun to go stir crazy after his last bout with Charles' so called students, and stares at him with mismatched eyes, smelling like popcorn and ozone, and he thinks the fishes are back. "My older brother will have stories told about you, my sister will dog your steps, and the twins have always liked you, pulled at you, but you aren't mine, no, because you're right, you know, but Destiny won't let go of that damn book and now things can't be what they should be."
She pauses for a long moment, before she stands, and Erik doesn't know if he's imagining it when he hears "I don't know what's Mine anymore..."
Apollo!au, Dionysus!RDJ/any - of things that are forbidden, and those that we allow:
He kisses her on the cheek as she embraces him, the vial hanging around her neck between them pulsing, almost warm, and for one moment (less, the pause between heartbeats) he's consumed with the urge to grab it, break it, to tear it loose and shatter it among them all.
He knows it doesn't work that way, that existence would lose something so vitally important instead of being bathed in it, and the moment passes.
"We've missed you," he says instead, holding her for a few moments longer; she tightens her grip on him, just a moment, just ever so briefly, and some of the hollow feeling fades.
Thor, Loki - falling to Earth didn't make him an angel any more than being born made him a devil:
He is not a falling star, or the morning star; he does not have wings, not whole or broken or denied; he was not cast out for his beauty or his pride, and he has never known the taste of the wind as bitterly as he does now. He falls in self exile, self loathing, falls because he is lost, because he cannot bear to see his Father look on him with pity (pity!) any longer.
He is not the destroyer, and for all the myths, he will not bring about the End.
~
Fate is an awful thing, a bitter spiteful thing, and the only thing he hates more than his own twisted existence is the Norns; although it's funny (and the vastness of space swallows his laughter, the atmosphere burns it out of him and sears the sky) because no one ever thinks about how that dream of Ragnarok, after all the bloodshed, after all the battle, all the death, is as simple as a new beginning.
There's no such thing as new beginnings.
The earth is hard and cold, and does not welcome him.
Avengers, Cap/Tony - things are different now, but this will always remain the same:
Steve is holding Tony's face when the words leave his lips, and Tony can tell he's trying to get Tony to look up, to look him in the eye, as though somehow that will make the words make sense, to make him listen. It takes him a moment to realize that Steve's finger tips are resting against his pulse, and a moment longer to realize that it's like putting his hand over Tony's heart.
Over his heart, not the miniature arc reactor embedded in his chest.
~
Tony looks away and takes a step back. Things are different, yes, but the Captain isn't seeing the whole picture, and really never has; no one ever does. He opens his mouth, wanting to say something, anything, just make Cap understand even a little, but what is there to say?
For orphan_project:
RPS, goth!Kane/Carlson, Anniversary:
"Interrupt them and I will cut you," Pauley says without turning to look at Mikey, and she can hear his teeth click as his mouth snaps shut. Chris and Steve are in the back, eating lunch (damn near a buffet, all hand made from scratch by Steve) and actually talking instead of fuming at each other wordlessly, finally, and it only took their goddamn anniversary to make it happen; she doesn't know who fucked up, doesn't care, and only knows that two and a half weeks is too fucking long for either of them to start making peace.
They're smiling now, at least a little, so she's pretty sure that a major foundation of the universe hasn't gone and cracked on her, cos as corny as it is, love like theirs has gotta overcome any kind of shit eventually.
RPS, goth!Kane/Carlson, Rhea comes back for another tattoo:
She blushes when she sees Chris, but she'd asked for him specifically after the amazing job he'd done last time; hell she made the trip up specifically for this tattoo, because now she just couldn't imagine anyone else inking her skin. The parlor is empty this time, except for Pauley, which makes the location she'd chosen for this one a little easier; it's a big piece, one that will stretch down one side under her arm, curling forwards along her ribs under her breast.
She doesn't last as long this time, not with Chris where she can see him, but the fine detail that goes in under her breast while she's holding herself up, the nipple between her fingers, brings her off again that much harder.
RPS, goth!Kane/Carlson, Breath Play:
*Not exactly what you wanted, I'm sure. But this is what Chris gave me...
Steve doesn't let him go, palms pressed against his cheeks, thumbs brushing lightly along the edge of his face, but Chris doesn't open his eyes; he can't, not yet.
"Focus," Steve says, gently enough, his breath warm on Christian's lips, but it still sends a shock of dread up his spine, "shh, breathe in."
Chris obeys, drawing in a long, shaky breath, losing himself for a moment in the way he can feel Steve breathing slow and steady beside him, trying to draw comfort from it, trying not to fall apart where he is.
~
"Hold it," Steve says, and Christian almost laughs at him, trembling with the need to screamlaughweep, with the need to curl in on himself; Steve holds him up anyway, stepping that much closer, and Chris obeys. "Now let it go."
The breath just slips away from him, and for a little while, everything else falls away.
RPS, spy!Carlson/Kane, vacation done right:
Chris picks Cabo, and Steve counters with Rio, so Chris tries Florence or Puglia. Steve offers Fiji instead, and it takes a few minutes for Chris to stop laughing before Steve can explain that no, really, Fiji, like Bora Bora, is brilliant and honestly not just a joke.
In the end they don't go anywhere, don't even go out (except once, for groceries, because Chris refused to order pizza again when they're both capable of making something more delicious... or amusing...), and half the time they don't even bother with the television, or with moving and just sprawl together in bed and just breathe, just rest for once.
RPS, spy!Carlson/Kane, a surprising secret:
"You..." Chris says, stumbling over his words, "you were married?"
Steve shrugs; it's not something he thinks about a lot, and it honestly hadn't ever occurred to him to mention, especially since it ended... poorly. "Was a long time ago, before I joined the Agency, and it's not like I had kids or anything..."
I hate you. No, I don't know who. :P
RPS, Clockwork!Boy, A present for him.:
Joseph stops at the gate, leaning against the worn stone and waiting whilst Christian jogs ahead alone; for a moment he can't see Christian anymore, and then he appears again in the open window, ducking his head and blushing like he's just a boy again. Joseph chuckles at his own quip when he considers the bauble Christian brought with him as a gift, a small trinket of wire and leather cord wound around a small crystal and an eagle's feather to make a necklace.
Anyone else would have chuckled a little receiving it as well (so few recognize it for the good luck charm it is), but as the clockwork boy steps into view, Joseph's heart clenches at the surprise and gratefulness he sees there.
For cyphersushi:
RPS, Steampunk!Kane/steampunk!Carlson, first night of passion:
Christian feels clumsy, a rough hewn oaf beside Steven's smooth elegance, light and fair and now that they're here, in this moment, Steven seems delicate, from the gentle curls in his hair to the flush of his cock. Even his calluses, an artist's calluses, nothing like Christian's own, seem soft.
But Steven doesn't seem to notice, or if there is any hesitance, he doesn't let it show, instead just drawing Christian closer to tease away what remains of his doubts with kisses, hands sliding along Christian's skin as though to memorize his shape.
RPS, Goth!boys, four shades of goth:
Mikey's always liked Rue Morgue, if for nothing less than people watching (... and maybe fucking with said people, but only a little, honest...). The place draws all sorts on this side of subculture, from the people with a little more class and culture, like Lee and Matt and Ewan, to the ones that are more theatrical, like that chick in the far corner that he's never seen come in wearing less than 18th century courtly mourning garb, and of course Kane falls somewhere in the middle, taking all the attention as they start rocking out on stage.
"Gawd," the latest poser says as he squeezes up to the bar, done up to the nines in shit Mikey's sure will have Hot Topic tags all over it, "why do they have a punk like this serving drinks in a goth club?"
Mikey grins; this is gonna be fun...
Avengers, team, curling up to look at a scary movie:
Steve covers his eyes, even though Tony laughs at him, and grinds out, "How can you watch this?!" The creepiness was bad enough, but this whole... whole... sexwithmaybesatan thing...
Natasha rests her head on Steve's shoulder (and now he can feel the way Clint is laughing, through her) and pats his leg.
~
"It is pretty fucked up," she says, and at least she sounds sympathetic.
Thor hums thoughtfully, the sound vibrating through the couch, before adding, "I do not understand; tricking her is despicable, but... how is this frightening?"
Steve whimpers; he's never letting Fury talk him into movie night again...
Can you name the movie? :g:
RPS, Steampunk!cast, a night of wonder and amazement:
When Jensen thinks about it, he is not at all certain about why it had never occurred to them to have a celebration aboard the airship; nestled so close to the stars, with Masters Carlson and Kane's music drifting along the wind, he can hardly imagine something better. Jared is practically giddy, drawing him toward the port side, where Lord Hutton and Master Morgan have been up to something.
A canon fires, up and away, and a moment later fireworks burst, painting them a new collection of stars and constellations.
RPS, K/C, teenagers up to no good:
They take Christian's daddy's truck without asking, sneaking a few bottles of beer from his cooler in the garage before they split, the moon already on the far side of the sky when they toss some junk in the back - a few cans of spray paint, a couple dozen rolls of toilet paper, silly string, and a lot of socks. Originally they planned on going to Billy's to get him back and get him good for that shit at the baseball game last week, but there's an accident on the corner and too many cops and gawkers to manage it, so they keep their heads down and tool a few blocks over to the lake front to wait it out.
Of course, they end up making out instead, fogging up the glass until it gets light enough outside to notice despite it, and they have to trip over themselves to get back to the house before the Kanes wake up...