blue_bells | Meme += Five Acts: Round Five

I've been intermittently packing house for a week and the day job had consumed my brain.

The writing mojo must return. Surely, a porn-a-thon is the key? (No, my current project is gen, but words are words....)

There are a bunch of people I want to write for in order to say 'thank you' for the last round, so I hope you're all in this time!

Round five is open!

+ Post a list of your five favorite acts/kinks to read about. Check out this list if you need some inspiration. At the bottom of your post, add what fandoms/pairings you're interested in.
+ Read other people's lists; the master list of lists is here.
+ Post comment-fic based off of other people's interests.

= my Fandoms =
Supernatural: Michael/Adam, Sam/Dean/Adam, Michael/Adam/Lucifer, Lucifer/Sam/Gabriel, Castiel/Gabriel, any permutation of Lucifer/Michael/Raphael/Gabriel, Raphael/Balthazar, Raphael/Uriel/Gabriel
X-Men First Class: Any permutation of Emma/Raven/Angel and Hank/Alex/Sean, Azazel/Riptide, Erik/Charles
Suits: Harvey/Mike, any permutation of Donna/Jessica/Rachel
Battlestar Galactica: Kara/Sam/Leoben, Six/Gaius
The Covenant: Any permutation of Caleb/Reid/Tyler/Pogue
Avenger Movie!verse: Thor/Loki, Loki/Tony Starke (Iron Man)

= my Acts =
Adrenaline and crises: So, you just saved the world from a zombie apocalypse? We think you're looking pretty heroic in silhouette against that sunrise with the machine gun on your hip. My machete got a great workout, too. We should celebrate; sexily. (pre-, mid-, or post-crisis sex; speed-freaks or adrenaline junkies; near-death experiences; the shadow of impending death--hours, minutes, or moments; see also Situational engineering)

Alternate Universes: Mafia, prison, college, military, the same rules but with role reversal: you name it, I'll love it. (alternate characterizations and situations; sex between alternates of one character or between different characters; alternates as catalysts for realization of desire; role reversal; darker mirror universe characters; mistaken identity)

Sensory deprivation, overload or enhancement: As humans we only have five senses. How do we compensate when we can't see? Or hear? Or maybe when we feel too much? And if you're being pulled aside by someone not altogether human themselves, are those five senses going to cope? I love it when the senses are challenged in startling ways and the battle for coherency goes quickly downhill.

Marathon: Because it's been something of a running joke in my circle, lately (yo ho, these puns). Make it exhaustive. Make it punishing.

Fingers: Pressed to mouths, tangled in hair, bruised into skin, sunk in deep: fingers, and the specific effect they have on the one being touched, are awesome.

Fills for Others:
For

emerald_embers: Devil May Cry, Dante/Vergil, R (hairplay, sex injuries, hand fetishism, semi-technophilia)
For

ienablu: Supernatural, John!Michael/Mary, PG-13 (aggression, shoved against walls, hurt)
For

ladyknightanka: Supernatural; Lucifer/Sam, Michael/Adam; PG-13 (Human!AU, barely H/C)
For

nights_fang: Supernatural, Lucifer/Adam, NC-17 (Human!AU, clothing fetish, breathplay, frottage)
For

thedreamisreal: Supernatural, Sam/Adam/Dean, NC-17 (D/s, tattoos, possession & jealousy, oral fixation)
For

synnerxx: Supernatural, Michael/Adam, NC-17 (Human!AU cont., power issues, begging, biting)

Gifts from Others:
From

ienablu: Suits/SPN, Harvey/Mike, PG (Hunter!AU)
From

super_seme04: Supernatural, Michael/Adam/Lucifer, R: 'Made For' (marathon)
From

nights_fang: Supernatural, Adam/Michael, NC-17: 'Feel' (bondage, sensory deprivation, fingers)
From

ladyknightanka: Supernatural, Michael/Adam, PG: 'Do No Evil' (sensory deprivation)
From

synnerxx: Supernatural, Michael/Adam, NC-17: 'Won't You Touch Me, Touch Me' (fingers)
From

setos_puppy: Supernatural, Michael/Lucifer/Gabriel, R: 'Dream Brother; My Killer; My Lover' (post-crises, alternate ending, sensory overload, marathon, fingers)
From

zekkass: Supernatural, Michael/Raphael, R (Mafia!AU, post-crisis moment, handporn)
From

chaos_dreaming: Supernatural, Michael/Adam, NC-17: 'Cuckholds and Concubines' (Business!AU)

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Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

http://users.livejournal.com/_bluebells/

If you ever did write more of this, I'd absolutely love to read it. ;3

From:

setos-puppy.livejournal.com

Gabriel gasped and arched his body. Too long from the Host and too far from family had left his body and Grace aching. When the magnitude of Michael's very being washed over him he shuddered under the force of it. His head lolled back on the bed and his face wet itself with unworthy tears. He whined high and melodic, the strength of his Voice shaking the walls, cracking it through with sheer power.

"Hush, littlest brother." Michael's fingers stroked over his forehead, his blue eyes set deep in Adam Milligan's face. "Let me take care of you."

"It..." Gabriel choked on his words, his tongue feeling too big in his Vessel's mouth. He weakly tried to grope for his older brother. "It hurts. It's too much."

Michael didn't reply verbally, instead a long wave of pleasure soaked pain rolled over Gabriel and he sobbed. They had been at it for hours or days or years, Gabriel had lost count. Michael had found him, broken and empty in the motel where he had been desperately trying to recover from being grazed by his blade.

It had been stupid, so very stupid of him to try and take on his second oldest sibling. He had done it to by Sam and Dean time had it had cost him. Michael had found him, jagged and sharp around the edges, and leaking his Grace to the world. He had taken him and swaddled him like a babe before beginning to heal him.

His sides had been burned into with firm hands. Deep, aching marks for eternity. An imprinted, possibly accidental mark of claim.

He still didn't know why Michael was doing this. Why his brother was trying to build him back up when he had deserted his family so long ago.

A mouth brushed over his, wet and slick, Gabriel opened his own under it. He tasted the traces of ozone, so very faint, and the spark of electricity with the chill of ice. Gabriel's brows creased and he opened his eyes as the pressure of the mouth moved back.

Crystal blue eyes stared down at him from a broken face. A chiding smile curving soft, chapped lips. The olive shirt was still tacky with browned blood and the traces of stubble still lined his cheeks as Gabriel brushed his fingers up to touch.

"Why are you here?"

"Michael asked me to come here."

As Gabriel watched them move he couldn't help but notice the faint similarities between the two vessels his brothers had been forced into. Blonde and angled and soft in the eyes. Michael's was younger, which amused Gabriel to no end, while Lucifer's was falling apart.

"Wouldn't need you here if you didn't skewer me through."

From:

setos-puppy.livejournal.com

"We all have roles, Gabriel. Reputations to uphold."

Gabriel opened his mouth to reply before he was cut off with another wave of pleasure, this time from Lucifer. It was strong and hot. He arched off the bed with a noise of desperation and shook.

Then it was gone again and Gabriel was left panting and twitching.

"Raphael has gone insane," Michael intoned, his hands journeying down Gabriel's naked body, fixing small, unseen tears in his essence. "He is fighting for the Throne in Father's absence. He wants to get into Purgatory."

"He what--?!" Gabriel tried to sit up, his body moved like lead and burst through with pain as he fell back on the bed.

Lucifer glared at him in annoyance and brushed his ruined hands over Gabriel's body. "Stupid baby, keep still."

Gabriel keened in annoyance but stilled as requested. Lucifer's hands stopped just below the hand prints on his hips. His nails bit into Gabriel's flesh and the world toppled sideways with an agonizingly beautiful tide of pleasure.

When Gabriel regained a sense of the world once more Lucifer was whole. His vessel complete. Gabriel twitched as he felt unfamiliar yet also long missed Grace curl with his own. He touched at the new, blistering mark of hands on his skin. He stared up in awe at his two brothers.

Then his chest hitched in unexpected, long repressed sobs. They weren't fighting anymore. He watched as they looked between each other before climbing onto the mattress more firmly and laying on either side of him. He clutched at them with greedy pulls of his hand, his mouth open and pliant to theirs.

He had wanted this for so long. Hidden from their wars. Begged and pleaded for them to stop. He tried until his family had shattered apart and then he ran. He ran so far away...

"You're home with us now, youngest." Michael assured, pressing his newly unclothed body against Gabriel. Assuring him of his presence. "We will make you better. You will fight with us against the dissenter. You will help us restore Heaven."

"We will find Father again," Lucifer breathed, mouth chilled against his skin. "I will supplicate and do all I can to be with you and our oldest."

Gabriel whimpered in joy and tried to nuzzle into the two of them. They laughed and pressed against him, embracing him between their bodies. Gabriel nipped at Lucifer in playful reprimand.

Power surged out of Lucifer, Gabriel watched it with awed eyes as his brother's long hidden wings stretched over their bodies. He stroked his fingers through them, enjoying the way Lucifer shuddered.

"Ish Lucifael." Gabriel cupped his hand over the stubbled cheek and pressed their foreheads together, mouths meeting as they kissed while crying. He turned between them and hid his face in Michael's neck. "Ish Mik'hael."

Michael smiled and stroked his fingers through Gabriel's hair. "Rest, yakiri."

Slumber settled into Gabriel deeply. Aided by the cocoon of Michael and Lucifer's wings over his body.

Ish means "husband" and yakiri means "darling"

From:

chaos-dreaming.livejournal.com

DON'T EVEN TRY TO ARGUE. Because I am pretty sure that everyone else who has read this will totally agree that I am right. DEAL WITH IT. And my porn doesn't hold a candle to that blazing, masterpiece of a bonfire there.

I don't even know if that makes sense. Whatever. You get it.

~~I know, it's beautiful. Beautiful I like this, human!Michael amuses me greatly.~~

From:

synnerxx.livejournal.com

<3 *hugs*

From:

http://users.livejournal.com/_bluebells/

I must have a language kink because I was already enjoying this so much, but then when I got to the end, I melted.

I call bingo. Thank you so much for this. :D

From:

setos-puppy.livejournal.com

So glad you liked this. The entire time I was writing it I was staring at my hands like "what on earth are you doing?!"

From:

http://users.livejournal.com/_bluebells/

Only great things, Hands. Great things. ;)

From:

setos-puppy.livejournal.com

I was so deeply torn between something like this and Sean/Alex/Hank. I love them so much. ~~especially when knotting is involved~~ but I wrote one fill for them and it was the first X-Men: First Class fic I've ever written and I keep looking at it and wondering if it's crap.

From:

http://users.livejournal.com/_bluebells/

Omgbraintwin, I know what I'm writing for you now. And don't worry, it was fantastic, but I wasn't logged in to DW when I read it, so I couldn't tell you so.

From:

setos-puppy.livejournal.com

Excuse me while I scream at you in pleasure.

Also brb friending.

From:

setos-puppy.livejournal.com

Apparently we're already friends.

HERPALADERPALA

*goes back to writing Jack Harkness/Rory Williams smut*

From:

nights-fang.livejournal.com

THAT'S ONLY BECAUSE THEY HAVE NEVER READ YOUR STUFF BEFORE. If they did, they'd leave me and come flocking to you.

~~Human!Michael is fun. Angel!Michael, teasing the shit out of Adam? That's a fucking blast.~~

From:

zekkass.livejournal.com

[ooc: Set in the same mafia 'verse as this one and this one, but you don't have to read those to get this. Also, smut didn't really happen, but I hope you like it anyways. :3]

Raphael's who he calls, when his senses return to him. There's blood on his hands, and the mess - he doesn't think about the mess. Instead he holds the cellphone with slick fingers and waits for his brother to pick up.

"Michael," Raphael greets within four rings, and he doesn't sound tired or sleep-bogged at all - Michael doesn't know how he does it. (Anything to avoid thinking about what he's done.)

"I need you here," Michael says, and, "It's a mess."

He hears the rustling of papers and wonders if this is it, if this is the time Raphael will refuse him help. If this time he'll be left with a mess and if the family will abandon him and -

"Stay put, I'll be right there."

Michael breathes relief as the call ends, and he gingerly slides the cellphone into his pocket - his whole outfit is a mess, what was he thinking - and he sinks to his haunches, unwilling to sit in the blood but needing a moment to hide himself. He won't leave the scene, and it's probably for the best if he stays right where he is, so he doesn't track shoeprints everywhere -

He wonders (and not for the first time) if Raphael would be able to control him when he gets like this. If Raphael could prevent the mess before it's created. He chides himself for even thinking of it, not after...not after that last time.

It won't matter if it's family or not when he's lost himself like that.

---

The lights in the laundromat are too bright, and Michael closes his eyes to them while he waits for the detergents to work their magic on his clothes. He thinks of the harsh lights of the interrogation room, and it's his mood that leads him to picture himself in the hot seat, with two of his brothers (Raphael, Zachariah) working him over. Asking him how many he's killed. Asking him for the details.

Nightmares creep up on him while he waits, and he digs his fingernails into his bare thighs. The pain doesn't ward them off, but it does keep him grounded. Focused. The emotions fear stirs up won't cause him to lose control.

A jacket is draped around his shoulders, and he looks up at Raphael in poorly veiled surprise.

"I'm taking you home as soon as this is done."

"Ah," Michael works his jaw, and looks back at his knees, uncomfortably aware of the implications. His work here is over, and someone else will manage his loose ends.

"It's unlike you to be so doubtful," Raphael comments as he sits next to him. "Was it really so bad?"

"You saw," Michael says.

"You have remarkable skill at managing who is in your range before you let go," Raphael says. "No one in there was someone we would have let live."

"Be quiet, Raphael."

Michael closes his eyes again and he's glad it's Raphael here. He tries to picture Zachariah standing in Raphael's place, or worse: Lucifer. He shivers and pulls the jacket closer to him, not liking what he sees. (Zachariah's disapproving look, Lucifer's sneering amusement...)

He feels fingers in his hair and ducks his head, keenly aware that he still needs a good shower to get rid of all the blood, but Raphael's fingers (they must be Raphael's) hold on, still picking through his hair with a gentle touch.

"Stop."

From:

zekkass.livejournal.com

"Give me your hand." Raphael orders, something unfamiliar in his tone.

"Why?" Michael asks, looking at him again. "What are you doing?" But he holds out his hand as he asks the questions. He's had a chance to wash them clean, scrub at them until the skin is raw and chafing and red, but there's still the scent of blood, and under the fingernails...he knows how hard it is to completely clean himself, and he knows there's no way he'll ever completely succeed.

It scares him more than it should, and he blames his state of mind here and now.

Raphael turns his hand over, dipping his head to lick a finger, gentle.

"Raphael - ?"

Raphael hums quietly as he licks his way down Michael's index (trigger) finger to his palm, and he nips at the web of skin between thumb and finger before licking at the pad of Michael's thumb. He doesn't respond, and Michael doesn't know what - it feels good, it feels too good, almost ticklish, and it's reassuring and he can't say why.

He wants to protest that his hands are still dirty, that it's not right, but - Raphael licks and sucks at his fingers, at the pads of his fingers and Michael can't look away; can't tell him to stop.

"Your other hand," Raphael murmurs, licking a lazy circle around his wrist, done. "Now, Michael."

Michael gives it to him, shivering and wondering if it'd be too obvious for him to put the jacket over his lap. Probably.

Raphael works over his other hand, doesn't even pause. Michael doesn't know what he feels because of it, or why, but -

Raphael finishes with a kiss to one palm and then the other, and then he kisses Michael on the lips, a reassuring gesture.

"I'm going to take you home," he whispers against Michael's lips. "And you're going to learn to trust your family again. You'll lose control again, but it will be on our terms."

Yes, Michael thinks, and a weight has left his shoulders. He nods, kisses Raphael back, lets Raphael hug him. Pure relief: "God, yes. Raphael - "

"Ssh," Raphael murmurs. "It's alright now."

From:

ravenspear.livejournal.com

Hey there, goddess of my heart. <33333

*flails* Oh, Michael. Raphael, you are the best brother ever.

From:

zekkass.livejournal.com

<3 Thank you~

From:

nights-fang.livejournal.com

Raphael.

Oh Raphael.

I just love him here and how absolutely calm he is in piecing Michael together. ♥

From:

theinsaneeraser.livejournal.com

...

Can you just make a whole verse out of this mafia stuff because hufdbgfhsdbfsdvgfubsdhafsdhufsdhukjk

I don't ever want you to stop.

bgjiodhubfudsbudshjkm,

right, back to being a pile of goo again.

From:

http://users.livejournal.com/_bluebells/

This is beautiful. Wonderful. I didn't want it to end. I love this notion of Michael as a loose canon with his family continually cleaning up his mess, but Raphael is still a healer. He's so patient and controlled, and I *love* how he cleaned Michael's hands.

MAFIA!AU. It's all I want in the SPN world and yours is fantastic. I want to play in this sandbox.

From:

ladyknightanka.livejournal.com

Unf, my God, Michael breaking and Raphael patiently cleaning up the pieces! So, so beautiful! In fact, this whole 'verse kills me, but in a good way! *licks screen*