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Because someone is a horrible enabler (that and I am easy, but whatever), I am opening myself up to drabble requests in any of what may be one hundred fandoms, because I am a fandom *coughs* woman of loose virtue. Also Milliways, preferably characters I have interacted with. Or that Raven has interacted with, rather.
So.
*eyes![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kentraine.*
Hit me.
So.
*eyes
kentraine.*Hit me.
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*has a violent streak*Your own take on That Damn AU Fic.
Or something involving Raven, Edmund, the stables, and miscommunication resulting in odd looks and hilarity. :D
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Three minutes after that, with his hands tracing complicated curves over Edmund’s shoulders, and sleepy grey-blue eyes looking into his own, Raven thinks hay is not entirely unpleasant.
Then those eyes blink, slightly confused, and a somewhat raspy voice begins, “Raven, wha—“
And much as Raven loves to hear that voice, right now he wants something else, and he swipes his tongue across Edmund’s mouth once, twice, and then they kiss. For quite some time.
Fifteen minutes later, when Edmund twists his leg around Raven’s and forcefully flips him over, Raven thinks hay is quite comfortable.
When his shirt and pants come off, and Edmund’s hands wander over the exposed skin, Raven finds hay quite pleasant, actually.
Some time after that, with his skin sweaty, his muscles limp, and Edmund curled to his side, Raven is in love. Not necessarily with the hay.
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*snickers SO MUCH*
*dead of laughter*
It's, like. The perfect AU-that-isn't-Otherways OTP.
*goes back to snickering*
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http://www.livejournal.com/users/metaphor/183155.html is where my drabblepost is, if you are really for wanting something.
But from you? Raven/Sariel. Because it's so weird.
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Raven woke from a very deep sleep to see the Archangel Sariel resting in the chair beside his bed. She was studying him intently, eyes wide and unblinking. He watched her in return, waiting.
She smiled slightly and moved forward, kneeling on the bed. One finger traced the largest of the fissures on his bicep, lightly. Raven followed the movement with his eyes, then went back to looking at her face. The angel repeated the motion, once, then trailed her hand lightly over another of the wounds.
Raven hissed in a breath.
“Oh, bird.” Her voice was a sigh. Her touch moved further down his chest, slipping around to his sides. Raven twitched, minutely.
“Poor, brave, broken bird.” She kissed the mark on his bicep, then followed the path of her hands with her mouth. Raven raised one of his hands, so very slowly, and cupped the side of her face.
She lifted her head, and her eyes met his for a moment. Her smile deepened, he nodded, and she went back to her work.
It was a very long night.
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Aha.
Okay.
Puck/Havelock featuring Raven - and I so nearly put Puck/Havelock/Raven there. I will not make that compulsory, because I am merciful.
If you want to do that, however...
Theme. Um. However you like, really. Angsty, cracky... *beams* I trust your creativity.
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*snicker*
Raven likes the rafters. Even though he complains about them, they are really quite comfortable—good for sleeping, and watching, and hiding, and many other things.
He does not, however, think the rafters are a good place for this. Balance isn’t a problem for any of them, but there is a bar full of patrons below, and Raven thinks some things should be private.
Puck and Havelock appear to disagree. Puck’s disregard for propriety is not a surprise, but Havelock’s . . .
Oh—hands
Or rather Puck’s
tongue in the . . . ooh
Or rather both of them
skin and warm and so close and
“Breathe, silly bird.” Puck’s voice is warm and close and it fills the space in Raven’s thoughts, and Havelock’s warm breath in his ear fills the rest of him up, and it is almost too much, and too exposed. Raven’s hands are shaking, and he cannot do this here, so his fingers trace a pattern, and the beams disappear, and the bar disappears, and instead there is a bed.
And one man, one faerie, and one silly bird.
And it is very nice, indeed.
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“So, what’s this about you not having any biology?”
Raven blinked at his sudden lapful of Lilly. “Is it such a topic of interest, then?” His voice was mild, but there was a hint of a grin on his lips.
Lilly just looked at him. “For me, yeah. I mean, it’s practically my mission to make sure everyone has a good time.” She wriggled, a little, for effect.
Raven laughed. “As far as I can tell, you do a very fine job of it. Your parties are legendary.”
Lilly laughed, and brushed a light kiss on Raven’s mouth. “I wasn’t talking about parties. Although, you know, those are fun, too. You up for it?”
Raven blinked, looking completely unruffled. “Perhaps.” He kissed her back, very gently. “You deserve a reward for flying with me so often, at least.” He laughs.
“Oh, because that’s such a hardship.” She snorted. A moment later, she was grinning. “Hey. You said yes, didn’t you?” She leaped off his lap. “I am so taking advantage of this right now. I don’t care if you’re busy.”
Raven laughed again. “As you will, Lilly.”
“You have no idea.” Lilly grabbed his wrist, and dragged him upstairs.
They missed breakfast.
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Ace, Raven, cookies, and explosions. Well, one explosion.
One piece of useful advice that no one ever gave Raven is this: Never bet a pyro that they cannot surprise you. To that can be added: Particularly not if she is your little sister.
It started out easily enough--some teasing banter outside the bar, a lazily thrown challenge, and cookies. Then boredom set in, which is when things got interesting.
“Do you know, Ace, I do not think I have ever made cookies.” Raven swiped some hair out of his face, leaving a small streak of dirt on his cheekbone.
Ace grinned, and leapt to her feet. “It’s probably time you did, then.” She grabbed his wrist, and tugged. “Although, if you’re lying to me about this like you did with the slingshot . . .” She eyes him warningly.
Raven lowered his head, meekly. The laughter in his voice, however, reveals the tease. “I do not lie about cookies.”
Ace shot a dirty look at him, then laughed. “I’ll give you that one. You are absolutely ridiculous about those things.”
”I have nothing on you and marmite sandwiches.” He sniffed, disparagingly.
“Oh, ta very much.” And she pulled him into the kitchen.
Approximately two hours later a small explosion rocketed through said kitchen.
Raven blinked, and scraped cookie dough off of his face.
Ace laughed up at him, her face completely smug. “There is no way you were expecting that, Raven.”
Raven shook his head, grinning a little. “No. I can safely say I truly had no idea making cookies was so dangerous, or so messy.” He eyes Ace’s pristine figure, particularly her hair. Quicker than thought, he ruffled said hair with his dough-covered fingers, and sprang away, racing for the door.
Ace froze for a moment, in total shock. “Raven, that’s—argh!” And then she was racing after him, intent on revenge.
The dough-covered kitchen just sat there, alone. No one ever knew quite how Ace managed to make cookies explode, either; she is certainly not telling.
And Raven learned a valuable lesson about siblings. Never, ever trust them when they’re bored.
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*squee*
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*tries not to let the ideas lodge for future use in Milliways*
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That or the same group, playing poker.
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“World domination?” Tim offers.
“Bah. That is the province of the unimaginative.” Q snorts, and flicks a piece of popcorn off of his knee.
“Not worth the effort, dear. No free time.” Coyote sniffs, and pokes Raven with her boot.
He winces. “It tends to end very badly, yes. I remember that well enough on my own, Coyote!”
Tim snorts.
Silence.
Oberon hastily swallows his bite of cookie. “What? No one would let me try.” He shoots a dirty look at Raven and Coyote.
Tim shrugs. “It was just a suggestion. Another version of me tried it. It didn’t go so well.”
Q huffs, and stands up. “I suppose I will make the popcorn this time.” He mutters irritably as he heads to the microwave.
“Oooh. I am choosing the movie. I am tired of romantic comedies.” Coyote eyes Raven and Tim as she stands up.
Tim raises his hands. “Don’t look at me. Ace was here.” He grins at Raven.
Raven grins back. “It was a good trick, I think. The look on her face was very memorable, yes.”
Coyote snorts. “Funny, but the movie was still shitty.” She pops Full Metal Jacket into the DVD player.
Q flings a bowl of popcorn towards the couch, where Tim catches it neatly. “Thanks.”
“I will pay you back for this, I hope you are aware.” He glares at Tim.
“Shut up and sit down.”
Oberon sneaks another cookie.
Sunday morning creeps ever closer.
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“This one?”
Ray looks at Raven, slightly amused. “That’s not one of my inventions, I’m sorry to say. It’s a microwave.”
Raven blinks. “Now I know I have been away from Earth for a long time. In its terms, at any rate.”
Ray grins. “We humans are always in a big hurry. It’s how we get things done. Anyway, my lab is over here. I’ve made some progress with modifying those power sources we’d talked about, although not as much as I wanted. It’s stable, at least, although the interface tends to shut itself down before maximum power gets reached. I think it’s an electronics problem, though, so I should be able to fix it. I just need time.” As he says this he leads Raven down a short hallway and into an incredibly cluttered and vaguely nightmarish space. Nightmarish for the uninitiated, of course.
Raven is fascinated by the tangles of wire, the nuts and bolts and hideously complex pieces of machinery that litter the room. There is organization there, to be sure, but it is piecemeal.
“Is there anything particularly new you have been working on?”
“Where to start?” Ray grins. “I really do keep busy. And in my spare time, I improve the efficiency of my appliances. I should market my toaster, I really should.” He pulls a tiny object, roughly spherical, from in between a large ovoid covered in dials, and something that looks like a cuboid banana with spikes.
Raven eyes it. “This is your toaster?”
Ray laughs. “No. There isn’t room for the bread. It is, however, my latest toy. It’s a morphic field detector. It sees the spatial distortion that accompanies shapeshifting, particularly when the extra mass has to go somewhere. Or come from somewhere, for that matter. Apparently, it can also see the different shapes of past lives, which is an odd quirk that I can’t explain. I wouldn’t think the frequency would be the same, but apparently it is.”
Raven shrugs. “Some things just are. Although theories never hurt, I think.” He grins at Ray, and they spend the rest of the afternoon tinkering and theorizing.
Raven might never leave.
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Peter is laughing, flushed and bright-eyed and very slightly out of breath. “That is amazing, Raven! I feel rather silly for taking so long to accept your offer. Flying is marvelous!”
Raven laughs as well, reaching out one hand to cup Peter’s cheek. “And my other offer?”
At this, Peter stills, and his fists clench. His eyes darken, and the pupils expand. He lifts one hand to cover Raven’s. “You have been proved right once already, Raven. I would be foolish not to consider the possibility that you’re right this time, as well.” And he turns his face, and kisses Raven’s palm.
Raven takes one step closer, and Peter matches him. A blink, and then Peter fits his mouth to Raven’s. One of his hands smoothes over a shoulder blade, and then he drops his hand lower, slipping it under Raven’s coat and shirt.
Raven pulls back, shrugging out of his coat, then steps back in. His mouth returns to Peter’s, and his hands slide under clothing to meet flesh. Peter gasps, a little, and matches the movement. Raven smiles into their kiss, and Peter pulls back, laughing.
He rests his forehead on Raven’s, and just breathes for a moment.
“This is ridiculous, Raven; we’re still in the bar.”
Raven laughs, as well, though he is still panting. “We should continue this upstairs, I think, yes.”
Peter nods, and kisses Raven one more time, warmly. Then he takes his hand, and walks with him up the stairs to 373.
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Brain: *explodes*
Thank you muchly!!
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You are welcome.
*pets poor straight!canon!Peter*
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“The trouble with sisters, Moiraine, is that they often make it very difficult to say no.” Raven’s back is turned to the Aes Sedai, although the only thing he can possibly be watching is the wall.
“That is not the only difficult thing, with family.” Moiraine’s tone is light. “How has Ace been troubling you?”
“I will never learn to govern my tongue, I do not think.” He seems to inch closer to the wall, still keeping his face turned away.
“Are things so bad?” She takes a step closer to him, and he stiffens. She frowns, very slightly, then the composure is back.
“For a given value of bad, yes, I truly believe it is.” He shudders, a little.
“May I offer aid?” Still cool, still calm. Then Raven turns around.
His eyelashes are thick and black, artfully made up with mascara. His eyebrows have been plucked—they are now two slim graceful arches above his bright eyes. His cheeks are lightly rouged, his lips are a bright crimson, and his skin looks flawless. The nose is still a little big, though, and it is this that interrupts the perfectly made up look of the rest of his face
Moiraine bursts into laughter. It is merry, and bright, though she covers her mouth after a moment. It is best to be polite, after all.
“You look very lovely, Raven. This coloring suits you.” Her voice still bubbles with laughter, and her color is high.
Raven raises a brow. “I thank you, then, I suppose.” He pauses a moment, then grins brightly. “Shall we go down to the bar for tea, then? I should show off Ace’s handiwork, I think.”
Moiraine just laughs again.
Raven sights, and gestures her out the door.
Moiraine smiles, rather helplessly, then composes herself, and heads gracefully toward the stairs. She is rather curious to see how the rest of the bar will react to Raven’s new appearance. It may prove interesting.
Raven shakes his head, perhaps at himself, and follows.
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“Raven!” Raven looks up, just as a slender shape dressed in gray barrels into him. He braces himself enough that he only has to take one step backward, instead of falling.
“Ingress! How go things in Valdemar?” He strokes her hair, briefly. She rolls her eyes, but lets him.
“Pretty well, really. I’m lucky. I got a lot of useful training in the bar and at home. I’m ahead of most of my classmates in some things. Weapons, mostly. This time around, at any rate. There’s some new Chosen who should be coming to the Collegium soon.” She grins up at him. Her hair, at this moment, is not blue. He finds himself missing it.
“Do you have time for tea and cookies, before returning home?” He looks slightly hopeful, but Door and Tom have prior claim.
Ingress merely grins at him. “It’s festival time, I’m here a whole week. Well, in the House, at any rate. And I had to make time for my favorite bird.” She tweaks his nose, affectionately.
He bats at her hands--ineffectually, it may be noted. “It is very well, then. I should be pleased to hear of your exploits. I do not think you are so staid as all that.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “Oh, Raven, you have no idea. And I am hardly the worst of the trainees. Let me tell you about Kira . . .”
Raven laughs as the story concludes, and pours some tea. He is glad he thought to come downstairs, this afternoon. It is time well spent.
Ingress pokes him, interrupting his semi-reverie. “You have stories to share. I know you, remember? Trouble follows you. You said so yourself, and I’ve been away awhile.”
He grins. “Coyote was here, the other day.”
Ingress grins back. “Do tell.” This will be fun.
Trouble, indeed. Somewhere, Coyote sneezes.
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*grin*
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A bored Raven is a dangerous thing, to himself moreso than to others, and this particular Tuesday was no exception. This Tuesday, Raven was bored enough to ask the Lady for a game.
She regarded him with cool green eyes, though there was anticipation lurking there. “What stakes will you play for, little bird?”
Raven shrugged, and settled himself comfortably in a chair. “As it pleases you, Lady. I had thought, perhaps, the owing of a favor?”
The Lady raised one eyebrow. “No limits to this favor? I find that acceptable. Shall we begin?”
She hands the dice to Raven; she is feeling magnanimous, at this moment.
Perhaps.
Raven casts the dice, and they clatter across the table, before coming to a slow stop. He regards them for a moment, then smiles, very slightly. “A good enough beginning, I think.”
The Lady does not change her expression, she merely makes a noncommittal noise, and picks up the dice. She casts, and the dice skitter lightly over the table. She does not even look down. “Perhaps, Raven. Perhaps not.”
Raven stills, though the smile does not leave his face. Several casts later, he regards the Lady with solemn eyes. “It goes to you, I think. I thank you, for the game.”
The Lady smiles, now, and her green eyes are burning. “It was a small pleasure. I believe I will take that favor now, though. There is a place I would like you to visit. For a year, let’s say. Starting now.” There is a loud rumbling, like thunder, or perhaps very many dice spinning in their cups. For Raven, the world goes black.
When he wakes, some time later, there is a large rubbery face looming over him.
“Oook?”
Farther away, Fate looks at the Lady ruefully. “Well played.”
The Lady merely smiles, and passes him the dice.
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Raven/Oberon. Sort of.
The battle field smelled of fire and blood. Much of his precious forest had suffered, and yet he was victorious. The Coyote was missing, but with the geas on her spirit form, she could not have gone far. She would come crawling back soon enough. She had no choice, now.
Oberon surveyed the bare and smoking field with grim pleasure. The small centaur lay still on the grass, hands spattered with the melted metal of his inventions. Useless.
The little mage with his strange weapons and long braid still moved feebly, pinned to the ground with a faerie spear. He had life and power within him. A fitting offering to the Power, perhaps. Oberon had sensed a touch of the Lone Power inside that one as well. Perhaps It would favor this sacrifice.
And the wizard’s own power had not been enough. Her flame burned brightly, and much too quickly. Her oaths could not save her.
Blood dripped on her body from the Puck’s wings, torn and broken. The other fae clutches the shell of the assassin; face as pale and blank as marble. Those cool and unreadable eyes were closed forever, now. Oberon shakes his head. Mortals are so fragile.
But immortals... The king turns to Raven, who once again struggles to stand. “Fool,” Oberon says in a voice that is almost fond. “The battle is over. Your ragtag army has lost.” He drops to one knee before the spirit, pulling him upright.
Raven’s sightless eyes stare at nothing as he laughs into Oberon’s kiss.
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Now I am tempted to write doomy Oberon/Raven, with bonus crazy!bird.
*sighs*
Now see what you've done.
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If you slash? Extra credit for no kissing.
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That, or Ace-Raven siblingschmoop involving... a toaster.
It was either a toaster or a shubbery, and a shrubbery would be just to much.