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09 November 2010 @ 03:04 pm
Ten kisses for sale - now sold out!  
The first ten eight people to comment with a pairing and a prompt get a kiss!drabble. Prompt can be specific ("first kiss, under the mistletoe, with people watching") or completely random ("feather"). If you don't get something within a half hour I will probably post it later tonight instead.

Any fandom I write or have written is good. I will write crack pairings, crossover pairings, shippy pairings, you name it.


SOLD OUT! Look for the following fics later tonight. I will be writing all the way through choir rehearsal and post them when I get home!

1) kijikun - Jo/Lucifer, hate to love
2) pandionpandeus - Jo/Lucifer, wings
3) darkamber - Gabriel/Sam, surprise kiss
4) darth_firefly - Gabriel/Dean - Chocolate kisses
5) entangled_now - Dean/Castiel, angry kiss
6) morganoconner - Cas/Gabriel, sunrise kiss
7) sycophantastic - Dean/Castiel, shut up kiss
8) saavikam77 - Matt/Mo - Chai & coffee kisses :D
9) jabber_moose - Jack Harkness/Castiel First kiss in a hurricane/tornado/apocalypse
10) zekkass - Castiel/Crowley, baking competition.
Darkamberdarkamber on November 9th, 2010 08:05 pm (UTC)
Gabriel/Sam - surprise kiss
Tiptoe39: unlucky samtiptoe39 on November 10th, 2010 03:40 am (UTC)
The sun is the only interruption to the endless blue arc of sky. It stretches tall and clear over Sam's prone body - he's lying in the grass, just watching, just being So much is clear to him right now. So many things make sense without the hazy mask of emotion. He sees how to move the world, how to cure its ills. Because he cannot feel pangs of conscience or guilt. He knows what's supposedly right and wrong, but those things have no context anymore. He doesn't remember why they felt so right or so wrong. And without them the world's as clear as the cloudless sky.

Somehow his thoughts filter over to the Trickster. He makes so much more sense now. The anger isn't there, nor is the sense of betrayal. But the lessons that he'd been trying to teach Sam, those he gets now, clearly. And he thinks he gets the Trickster -- or, he should say, Gabriel -- too. Even kind of likes him.

He supposes this would just give Dean more ammunition. He's grokking Gabriel? What further proof would Dean need that Sam is just a sociopath, not to be trusted?

But Dean doesn't have to know, and right now Sam's feeling a sort of kinship with the guy. Kind of missing him. His humor would be useful right about now If there's one thing his life is lacking without a soul, it's a sense of poetic justice. A punchline.

"Well, it's a good thing you still have a sense of humor, if very little else."

A pointed chin, arched eyebrows, green-gold eyes are interrupting his perfect blue sky. Sam frowns. "I'm dreaming."

"Are you? Can a guy with no psychological baggage dream at all?"

"That's the sort of thing you'd say in my dream."

"Oh, without emotions you're quicker on the draw than Sherlock." Gabriel rolls his eyes. "Well, that begs the next question. Which is: Why are you dreaming about me?"

"I don't know." Sam sits up, and promptly decides he doesn't like the universe when it's not pure blue. "Working out my issues with being Chaotic Good, I guess."

"Dork," Gabriel says pointedly. Sam shrugs. "Well, if this is your dream, big guy, tell me: would you dream me doing this?"

He lunges in with one movement and kisses Sam. Completely out of nowhere, with tongue and hands everywhere, and Sam objectively-without-emotions thinks it's not bad, if a bit bombastic. But Gabriel's not letting go, and Sam can't breathe very well with this much angel tongue in his mouth, so he starts to thrash and struggle.

All at once he's in his bed, covered with sweat and wide awake, having thrown all the sheets onto the floor. It's the middle of the night.

And now he's not sure he was dreaming.
The Soul says: - pandionpandeus on November 10th, 2010 03:43 am (UTC) (Expand)
The Soul says: - tiptoe39 on November 12th, 2010 06:00 pm (UTC) (Expand)
The Soul says: - pandionpandeus on November 12th, 2010 06:43 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Brilliant! - darkamber on November 11th, 2010 07:31 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Brilliant! - tiptoe39 on November 12th, 2010 06:00 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Emily.  Just Emily.: SPN - Slytherin Gabrieldarth_firefly on November 9th, 2010 08:06 pm (UTC)
Gabriel/Dean - Chocolate kisses
Tiptoe39: dean funny facetiptoe39 on November 10th, 2010 03:50 am (UTC)
with bonus almost-porn
Dean has taken to carrying a bag of Hershey's Kisses with him at all times. This is a defense mechanism and is just as essential as any charm or ward or weapon he might carry. Because if there is one thing more dangerous than a monster out for his neck, it's an archangel clinging to it just after saving their asses and gushing, "Come on, give us a kiss!"

That's how Gabriel re-introduced himself to Dean and Sam, by zapping away a particularly nasty South American thingamabob that had migrated north, draping one hand around each of their shoulders, and declaring he needed a group hug and some make-up kisses. When he repeated the line four times running, Dean got smart, and after request #5, he smiled, said "Sure!" -- and stuffed a Hershey's kiss into Gabriel's mouth.

From then on it became a running joke. Dean slipped him the kisses every time, sometimes pressing them into his hands, sometimes mushing chocolate into his hair. Once he even dropped them down his shirt. Gabriel played along, laughing hysterically, and in general was a lot less obnoxious than Dean remembered him being. Hell, the guy was a help to have around. Passing out chocolates like fish to a performing seal wasn't that much to deal with, relatively speaking.

Then one night, when Dean and Sam were separated, Gabriel wandered in looking for some "sugar, baby." Dean reached into his pocket and frowned. "I only have one left," he said, his eyebrows arching. "You want to steal my last piece? Come on, have a heart."

Gabriel shrugged and turned away. Taking that as a forfeit, Dean popped the candy into his own mouth.

"Changed my mind," Gabriel said under his breath, and in another moment his mouth was on Dean's.

What followed was a cascade of battling tongues, melting candy, tearing clothes, and raucous laughs and grunts that could have come from the hyena special on the Discovery Channel. By the end of it, Gabriel was draped over Dean, naked and happy, licking the last remnants of chocolate out of his mouth.

"Holy," Dean said.

"Yep." Gabriel brushed back sweat-soaked hair. "Pretty much."

From then on, Dean started carrying the little single-serving packs of Hershey's Kisses. They were more convenient, less bulky. And if they tended to run out quicker, well, that was just something he'd have to deal with.

Re: with bonus almost-porn - darth_firefly on November 10th, 2010 03:58 am (UTC) (Expand)
Re: with bonus almost-porn - tiptoe39 on November 12th, 2010 06:01 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Re: with bonus almost-porn - zekkass on November 10th, 2010 04:09 am (UTC) (Expand)
Re: with bonus almost-porn - tiptoe39 on November 12th, 2010 06:02 pm (UTC) (Expand)
The Soul says: - zekkass on November 12th, 2010 08:29 pm (UTC) (Expand)
The Soul says: - tiptoe39 on November 12th, 2010 08:42 pm (UTC) (Expand)
The Soul says: - zekkass on November 12th, 2010 08:48 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Tangles: Angelentangled_now on November 9th, 2010 08:07 pm (UTC)
Dean/Castiel, angry kiss
Tiptoe39: dean/castiptoe39 on November 10th, 2010 04:07 am (UTC)
they just yell at each other a lot.
"So what gives?"

Castiel had only just appeared. Taken aback, he frowned at Dean. "I don't know what you mean."

"That line of yours. Your problems always come first. The hell is that about?"

Confusion faded quickly to anger. "In case you hadn't noticed, I'm busy these days. And to be honest, I'm sick of you acting like you are the only people on the planet. Do you have any idea the magnitude of what I'm dealing with up there? This could take everything we did and throw it out the window, Dean. I am fighting as hard as I can to preserve what we fought for."

"You're the second person in as many weeks to give us hell about being selfish. You wanna know what's selfish? Leaving without saying goodbye. Not even answering the damn phone. I needed you, Cas. You were my last good friend and I needed you."

"I told you my intentions."

"I didn't expect you to be gone the same second!"

"Well, I'm sorry for my bad timing, but pardon me for having a mess to clean up that made your trauma seem insignificant in comparison. And I say that knowing just how traumatized you were. That's the scale of what I was dealing with."

"Great, thanks for telling me. Finally. Damn it, Cas, what was I supposed to think? You didn't say anything. You didn't talk to me."

"You couldn't have helped."

"I would have at least listened!" Dean rubbed his face with one broad hand, trying to keep his calm. "If you're in trouble, I want to help, Cas. That's what friendship means to me. Maybe I was stupid to think that you felt the same way. Maybe you don't even know what it means to care--"

His hand was knocked away. Castiel grabbed him by the collar, yanked him in, and kissed him hard.

There was no tenderness, no romance. It was an exclamation point. A screaming mess of a confession that left no room for an answer.

"Don't ever, ever think I don't care about you. If I don't help it's because I can't help."

He let go, stood there as Dean touched his own lips with trembling fingers, and glared. Finally, he turned his back. "I need you to believe in me, Dean," he muttered, almost too low to hear. "Nobody else does anymore."
Re: they just yell at each other a lot. - entangled_now on November 10th, 2010 11:02 am (UTC) (Expand)
Re: they just yell at each other a lot. - tiptoe39 on November 12th, 2010 06:03 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Re: they just yell at each other a lot. - zatnikatel on November 12th, 2010 04:33 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Re: they just yell at each other a lot. - tiptoe39 on November 12th, 2010 05:59 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Re: they just yell at each other a lot. - zatnikatel on November 12th, 2010 06:14 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Morgan O'Connermorganoconner on November 9th, 2010 08:07 pm (UTC)
Cas/Gabriel, sunrise kiss
Tiptoe39: broken gabrieltiptoe39 on November 10th, 2010 12:08 pm (UTC)
"So this is the world."

Gabriel's yawning as he says it. He's joined Castiel on a hill, somewhere beyond the reach of concrete roads or human eyes. It's sunrise, and the sun is sprinkling golden drops over the water.

Castiel gives him a quick glance and returns to contemplating the vista. "This is it. Are you disappointed?"

"Disappointed?" Gabriel scoffs. "No. It's fantastic. I just wish it all looked like this."

"You are a liar," Castiel says without hesitation, and Gabriel twitches. "You like the other parts better. The spoiled parts."

Castiel wrinkles his nose at spoiled, and Gabriel's anxiety fades into amusement. "You don't fool me, you big lug. You feel the exact same way. You like the seedy underbelly just as much as the pristine surface." Castiel gives him a confused look, and Gabriel laughs. "Oh, don't give me that look. You know what I'm talking about."

"The point is," Castiel says, "you like it."

"Of course I like it. But Cas, you put a family pet down when it's got rabies. This old ball's time has come."

"Sometimes I think that." Castiel turns. "Then I see the sunrise, and I think, every day the humans wake up with a new chance. New choices to make."

"And every day they screw it up in the end."

"Not every day."

"Most days. I mean, if only we could make it a world where it's always sunrise, right?"

"Gabriel. Brother." Castiel's eyes are dark blue with flecks of sun-gold. "It's always sunrise somewhere."

Gabriel takes in a breath, and Castiel reaches over to take it back.

The kiss lingers. It's warm. By the end, Gabriel's trembling. He feels it, all of Castiel's love, his hope, and he doesn't know how long his faded old cynicism can hold out against a force this powerful. It scares him, so he holds on for dear life, and that only makes it worse.

This isn't how it's supposed to be. He's supposed to be the strong one. Castiel should be trembling in his presence.

He flees, but the red sun has burned an impression into his eyes, dark spots before his vision that won't go away.
The Soul says: - morganoconner on November 10th, 2010 06:20 pm (UTC) (Expand)
The Soul says: - tiptoe39 on November 10th, 2010 06:28 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Gina Marie: Dean/Cas b&w kisssycophantastic on November 9th, 2010 08:15 pm (UTC)
Dean/Castiel, shut up kiss
Tiptoe39: dean looks up to castiptoe39 on November 10th, 2010 02:15 pm (UTC)
"Dean, I have something to tell you."

Castiel looks more nervous than usual, more out of place in his own (well, not really his own) skin. Dean looks up from his newspaper clippings and frowns. But he doesn't speak. He figures Cas will come out with it on his own.

"I think it's something you deserve to know. I have no doubt it will upset you and probably affect what I have selfishly come to consider our friendship."

OK, maybe he won't come right out with it. "What? Is this about Sam? About the angels?"

"No." Castiel adjusts his collar. "None of those things. This is... not easy for me to say. I have told you already my social skills are rusty, and I don't know how you'll react. But as I said, I feel you deserve--"

"Cas. Just spit it out." Dean lets the last newspaper clipping flutter to the floor. He comes up to stand in front of Castiel, who's even more visibly flustered close-up. "What's got you acting like this?"

Castiel squints at him. "You," he says. The syllable is flat.


Immediately the squint fades, and Castiel's eyes are lowered, eyelashes fluttering with a thousand quick, nervous blinks. "And myself as well. This sort of emotion shouldn't be affecting me, not now that I've been brought back, but instead it seems to be getting stronger. Of course, I won't ask you to take any action you don't feel comfortable with--"

Dean's patience is starting to run out. "About what?"

"About the fact that I find myself increasingly..." Dean's eyes won't allow him to stop. "...attracted to you." Castiel draws in a labored breath. There. He said it.

But now Dean's face is completely blank. That is just about the worst reaction Castiel can imagine. He goes on.

"I realize that may be difficult to hear, and considering everything it's not particularly relevant, but I have been increasingly unable to keep it to myself. I found myself telling a West African lemur recently, but it only looked confused--"


"--and the man at the bus stop seemed to be uninterested, but the talk radio host was very kind and told me I should let you know. Now I'm beginning to think that was a mistake--"


"--but the fact remains that if there is one thing about being human that I miss, it is the time that we spent together where nothing was expected of me, when I was simply able to be in your presence, and now that I'm fully angelic again it seems a shame that I should have to sacrifice that--"

Dean kisses him. Hard. Fervently. His hands lay on Castiel's neck and inch up into his hair, and he sucks all the breath out of Castiel's lungs before he can waste another iota of it on words.

Their lips smack as they part. "Cas," Dean says, "shut up."

Castiel does.
The Soul says: - moorishflower on November 10th, 2010 02:58 pm (UTC) (Expand)
The Soul says: - tiptoe39 on November 10th, 2010 04:08 pm (UTC) (Expand)
The Soul says: - sycophantastic on November 10th, 2010 07:00 pm (UTC) (Expand)
The Soul says: - tiptoe39 on November 10th, 2010 07:05 pm (UTC) (Expand)
The Soul says: - zatnikatel on November 12th, 2010 04:35 pm (UTC) (Expand)
The Soul says: - tiptoe39 on November 12th, 2010 06:00 pm (UTC) (Expand)
saavikam77: Matt/Mohinder - Minesaavikam77 on November 9th, 2010 08:18 pm (UTC)
And now for something completely different! \O/

Matt/Mo - Chai & coffee kisses :D
Tiptoe39: mattmo justkisstiptoe39 on November 10th, 2010 02:50 pm (UTC)
Mohinder doesn't drink coffee. Matt can't understand this. Even if chai is as caffeinated as coffee, there's no way it can have the same punch, the same bitter kick. That aromatic blend of spices would just put Matt to sleep.

It smells good, though, and occasionally Matt will pick up Mohinder's empty cup and sniff the edges of it. Even if it's not coffee, it's Mohinder, and Matt lets himself indulge, briefly, in the thought of what it must taste like on Mohinder's lips.

Once, he actually presses his mouth to the teacup, imagining Mohinder's mouth has been right there, sucking up the sweet, creamy taste. Matt has had a cup of coffee, but right now he's regretting it.

"Would you like a taste?"

Mohinder's voice, over his shoulder. Matt turns and is assaulted by mischievous, sparkling dark eyes. "I'd be happy to make you some," Mohinder says.

There's something in his smile that pushes Matt past the limits of sanity. "No, thanks," he says. "I'll just taste some of yours."

Mohinder's eyes flicker down to the empty mug. He figures it out just as Matt grabs him.

In the dim light of the kitchen, with the kettle gleaming, Matt wraps his arms around Mohinder and tastes the remnants of chai on impeccably soft lips. It's sweet, sweeter than he anticipated, and the chai is spicy when he sweeps his tongue across Mohinder's lower lip. Mohinder moans, gives a funny hitch of breath, and Matt thinks he's home free when hands scratch their way into his hair.

Then they yank, and Matt's lips are wrenched from Mohinder's. Oh, shit, he's in for it now.

"You taste like coffee," Mohinder chides.

Matt puts a hand to his mouth. "Come on, it's not that bad."

"Yes, it is."

"I'm serious. You should let me make you some."

"No, thanks," Mohinder says. His fingers curl in Matt's hair. "I'll taste some of yours."
The Soul says: - saavikam77 on November 10th, 2010 03:46 pm (UTC) (Expand)
The Soul says: - tiptoe39 on November 10th, 2010 04:10 pm (UTC) (Expand)
The Soul says: - saavikam77 on November 10th, 2010 04:30 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Laurenjabber_moose on November 9th, 2010 08:22 pm (UTC)
Jack Harkness/Castiel First kiss in a hurricane/tornado/apocalypse whatever i just want some freaking kissing with those coats, GDI
Tiptoe39: janto lovetiptoe39 on November 10th, 2010 06:56 pm (UTC)
this prompt is too epic for me to do justice but here we go anyway
It's the end of the world. Again.

Jack stands over a canyon, watching lava pour in. He remembers when this mountain was a valley, when these fault lines used to lie beneath oceans. He's the only one left alive, and that includes animals and vegetation. The planet's long since been an overheated, volatile wart of rock and fire. As for the human race, they've scattered to the skies.

It's still a million years before he'll be reduced to a face in a jar, watching the Earth be consumed by the sun. But in geological time this is still the planet's last day.

"You're Jack Harkness."

The figure next to him shouldn't be here. Shouldn't be surviving here. Jack himself doesn't have to breathe, or, rather, he does breathe the poisoned air and it's constantly killing him, but he keeps coming back to life. Every second, he's resurrected, to continue to bear witness.

But this stranger shouldn't be able to breathe. And the trenchcoat he's wearing shouldn't look like he pulled it off a rack yesterday. Jack eyes him, and the man tilts his head. "You're here to say goodbye to the earth, then?"

"And I thought I was the only one." Jack looks him over, then smiles. "Not that I'm complaining about the company. Where did you come from?"

"That is a long story." An amused expression flickers on his face. "My name is Castiel. I had friends on his planet. A long time ago."

"It's been a long time since anyone had friends here." Jack nods sagely. "Everyone leaves you in the end."

"That is the nature of time."

Jack surveys him. "You've been around a while, haven't you?"

"Longer than you." Castiel finds it funny.

Jack, though, hears it as a challenge. "Oh, really? Somehow I--"

He breaks off. There's a shadow, irregular and ever-shifting, behind Castiel, who's lit by the lava flows. Just for a moment, that shadow seemed to lift and fold open into something wide and dark. And now he thinks Castiel might be glowing.

"You're not human," he says.

"Neither are you."

Jack reaches out. "Not entirely."

He wraps his hands around Castiel's waist. The volcano erupts again above them, and the lava flows hot into channels of rock on either side. Heat billows around them like an angry wind. Castiel isn't surprised or perturbed in the slightest. It's remarkable to watch.

"But you're not human at all," he murmurs, pressing his forehead against Castiel's, feeling the cool touch in the midst of all this heat. "What are you? Some kind of creature? An angel?"

Castiel's lips quirk. "Not entirely." And that is the proof that he is, at least, a little bit human.

In the shadow of the volcano, with world-destroying red fire all around them, they kiss. It's a simple, soft melding of the lips, a tender elegy for the planet they love as it descends into chaos all around them. Sparks fly through the charged air, and their coats whip about their knees, batting against the wind in the snapping sound of drums.

When Jack opens his eyes again, Castiel's gone.

That's all right. Everyone leaves you in the end. That's the nature of time.
(Deleted comment)
Re: this FILL is too epic for me to COMMENT - jabber_moose on November 10th, 2010 07:11 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Re: this COMMENT is too epic for me to THANK YOU - tiptoe39 on November 10th, 2010 07:15 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Zekkass: a reason? Honestly?zekkass on November 9th, 2010 08:33 pm (UTC)
*hops in* Still open? If yes, then I want some Castiel/Crowley, baking competition.
Tiptoe39tiptoe39 on November 11th, 2010 01:37 am (UTC)
this is enh but at least it's something
"Tell me once more," Crowley said, "why we are doing this?"

Castiel poured the vanilla into the batter. "Because someone gave my brother a brilliant idea to make Dean king for a day."

"I did not give him any such idea." Crowley set his hands down on the counter with a decisive thud. Flour puffed up into the air in a white blossom of dust. "I merely made the observation that the de facto King of Heaven and King of Hell were in the same room. Gabriel is the one who decided there needed to be a King of Earth as well."

"If you knew Gabriel better, you'd know not to say things like that."

"Complain, complain, complain. Dean's going to be able to taste your attitude in that pie." Crowley nodded at Castiel's mixing bowl, which was considerably further along than his own. He still hadn't mixed the wet and dry ingredients, but Castiel was already moving the blend of flour and butter and eggs to the pie pan, sculpting the shell with flour-sprinkled hands. His dexterity was something to behold, Crowley had to admit.

"Hey, hurry it up in there," called Dean from the other room. "I'm hungry." And it was as if someone had fired tasers under their asses - Crowley began beating furiously and Castiel flew to the cupboard to pull out peach pie filling.

"I'm going to kill Gabriel," he muttered.

"You're going to give me carpal tunnel," Crowley shouted into the other room.

The bellowed response: "Ask me if I care."

"There has to be some way to stop this," Castiel muttered.

Crowley shot a shifty glance at him. "Well, you could always... make a wish."

Castiel harrumphed.

"It's powerful magic."

"I have no soul with which to barter."

"Pfft. That's a technicality in my new position. Come, pretty angel, pucker up."

"You don't need a soul, but you do need a-- mmph!"


Outside, Gabriel winked at Dean. "See, Your Majesty? You say they should kiss and make up, they kiss and make up. They don't even have to hear you."

"Yeah, got it. Ugh," Dean groaned and turned his eyes away. "Now tell me why you're the only one who won't do what I tell you."
Re: this is enh but at least it's something - zekkass on November 11th, 2010 01:57 am (UTC) (Expand)
Re: this is enh but at least it's something - tiptoe39 on November 12th, 2010 06:13 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Tiptoe39tiptoe39 on November 9th, 2010 09:09 pm (UTC)
and I pray to all the angels in heaven and hell
For kijikun

"I hate you."

She wished she had a shotgun. Or a stick .Something to keep him at arm's length.

His hands were up in surrender. "I know."

"You killed us." And she still felt like it was her fault, felt like she'd betrayed them because she used to pray to all the angels in heaven and hell, because it felt more dramatic that way, more blasphemous and more exciting. And she couldn't help feeling like somehow she'd invited this fate on her and Mom, because she was loose-lipped, she didn't care, she didn't believe.

Until angels began dropping from the sky and she began to harbor secret fears that maybe she'd angered someone above after all.

"I killed a lot of people," Lucifer says. He's gangly and funny-looking, like somebody's uncle, and she still doesn't know why he's appeared before her, how she knows it's him or why her feet won't move.

"Thousands," she said. "You killed thousands of people."

"I hated you," he said, a shrug lifting his shoulders. "You people. You were the favored ones, and I couldn't stand to see you getting all the love that should have gone to us."

"Then we hate each other." He was too close for her to effectively stand on guard. All she could do now was stare up at the weathered face, indignant. "So why are you here?"

"I don't know," he says. "Searching for that lost love, perhaps." His hands cupped her jaw.

"Don't touch me." Her eyes blazed, but her chin tilted up. "You're supposed to hate me."

"And you're supposed to hate me, too." He bent down to her, and Jo's heart screamed, so terrified, so enthralled.

"I do hate you." Insistent puffing of her words against his lips. She set her jaw. "You're a killer."

"I'm an angel." Almost there. "You used to pray to me."

"Not to you." His lips brushed hers, a soft, thrilling moment. She was whispering, breathing unevenly into his mouth. "To all the angels."

"All the angels in Heaven and Hell." When she swallowed, he could feel her throat bob. One hand slid back to the nape of her neck. "Don't you know? I heard every prayer."

She threw her arms around his neck, crushed his mouth with a fury she didn't know she had inside her. He was a devil, a monster, everything she should have feared and distrusted -- and, yes, hated -- but just for now he was her angel, the one who heard her whenever she prayed, and who came not to destroy her but to comfort her in the knowledge that someone had listened.

"Thank you," she whispered, dotting his mouth with soft kisses.

"Thank you," she thought he might have answered, just before he disappeared and it all went dark.
Captain Nommers of the Tastypants Brigade: cas.gabriel - keep it in the familysecondplatypus on November 9th, 2010 10:43 pm (UTC)
I can't wait to read the fill for Morgan's prompt.
*bounces excitedly*
Tiptoe39tiptoe39 on November 10th, 2010 03:26 am (UTC)
For pandionpandeus:

They bring him in chains. She has wanted to see the one responsible for her death, and when all is done she is granted that reward, as per her status as a martyr.

She doesn't expect a monster -- she knows, after all, that he is a fallen angel -- but she doesn't expect him to be this beautiful, this broken. The luminous aura hangs from him off-center. His wings droop in defeat. She wonders what they'd look like strong, victorious.

She slides past the guards and runs her fingers across the ruffles of feathers. He shivers, giving a piteous moan. "Does it hurt?" she asks, withdrawing her hand. He looks at her, big plaintive eyes, and shakes his head. "Do you talk?" He nods. "But you don't want to."

"I have nothing to say." His voice is proud, defiant, as you might expect of a fallen archangel.

"You're not sorry for killing us, then."

"I was doing what I thought was right." He's disheveled, but, she realizes, he's not broken at all. He's proud. She likes that. Respects it, even, in the same way you have to respect the terrible fury of an atomic bomb. Does that make it all right? she wonders. If you think it's the right thing to do, should you even be blamed? How many times has she stuck to her guns, done what she thought was the right thing? Even to the end, she was stubborn. Mom called her stubborn as hell. Maybe this is what she meant.

She kneels, looks into his eyes. "I like your wings," she tells him. His lip curls "Don't make a face, I'm serious." She sounds like Mom, she thinks. Don't make that face, Joanna Beth, I'm talking to you.

The thought makes her bite back a laugh, and his face changes. He doesn't understand what there is to laugh at in this situation, and she finds that worthy of pity. She reaches out and pets his wing again, and this time he winces.

"That's all right," she says, and laughs again. "You don't have to say sorry. I'll forgive you anyway."

She darts in, pecks him on the lips, and leaves him to try to figure out why.
Pan: Luciferpandionpandeus on November 10th, 2010 03:31 am (UTC)
Hehe. Poor Lucifer, constantly perplexed by these strange humans. <3

Edited at 2010-11-10 03:31 am (UTC)
The Soul says: - tiptoe39 on November 12th, 2010 06:13 pm (UTC) (Expand)