Trick or Treat drabbles
Oct. 29th, 2009 09:54 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tsukinofaeriiI love you guys. D: Scary much. FIFTEEN DRABBLES LOLWHUT.
Also?jazzypom has woo'd me over to Dreamwidth. D: So much for not being a sheep... >.>; Baaaah.
Title: A Working Birthday
Series: Dresden Files
Rating: SNUG
Warning: Language
Word count: ~400
Another year, another apocalypse. The crazies always come out tonight. Not only is it a night of power, but it's also popular with the cult crowd and the people who have more ability than brains. Funny, they're usually the same people. It's a double whammy of monsters and victims, with plenty of both. What is it with some people that they think inviting a Creature of the Abyss over for a beer will end well?
I'm not paid enough for this crap. Especially not for this crap on my birthday. I've worked on this night every year for ten years. Can't one damn Halloween go by without a tentacle monster?
This one's dead, though, and smelling a little like Popeye's. Say what you will about cliché, but electricity takes out damn near anything, from here or Beyond the Nevernever.
It also takes out about half of Chicago's power. Whoops.
A slow clap starts up behind me. One person, slightly muffled from gloves, and sarcastic enough that I resist the urge to check the walls for seepage. "Marcone."
"Dresden." Gentleman Johnny Marcone smiles and slips his hands into his pockets. It's sub-zero, the End That is Nigh weather and the man still looks like a king. Damn it. "Our hero, once again. Bravo."
"Can it, Marcone. I'm tired and covered with sushi. This is not the time to be on my shit list." And I just finished saving his ass, but that's sort of a given. I just saved a lot of asses. Apocalypse and all.
"Eloquent as always, Dresden. Fortunately, I've no intentions of being on your list." The streetlights are out, but the moon is just bright enough on the snow to see him smile. "I understand it's your birthday."
"Yeah. And?"
"Perhaps you would care for a celebratory dinner?" While I'm busy picking up my jaw, he laughs. It's a good laugh, low and dark. I'm pretty sure I heard something like it in a porno once. "And perhaps some drinks?"
This can't be happening. "Are you asking me out?"
"I believe I am."
This is happening. What the hell?
Then again, it's Halloween—a night for the strange and bizarre. There's not much weirder than this. Anyway, stopping an apocalypse isn't a paying job, and I'm broke. Only an idiot turns down a free meal. "Okay. But I get to choose the place."
I'll never admit to blushing when he smiles. It's cold out here, okay? "It's a date."
Title: Keeping Tradition Alive
Series: Final Fantasy XII
Rating: SNUG
Warning: Death
Word count: ~300
Every lamp in the throne room was dark, leaving it swathed in shadows. Only a few stray beams of moonlight trickled in through the glass panes that replaced the walls. Heavy clouds covered the Archadian night sky, which themselves were pale silver from the lights of the city below. Archades was peaceful, as a place can only be after night has settled in and its denizens have gone to their rest.
"Larsa, come on." Penelo leaned over the double throne, lips pursed in a faintly melodramatic pout. One of her hands wrapped around her husband's shin where he'd kicked his leg over the arm of the throne. Pale silk whispered around her legs as she leaned even farther over the chair. "It's all Hallow's Eve. It's tradition. You don't want to ignore that, do you?"
"Here I thought you paid tradition little heed. I seem to recall you wearing distinctly colorful wedding attire." For all that his voice was stern, a smile played over Larsa's lips. When Penelo's pout only deepened, he laughed and leaned forward to plant a light kiss on her lower lip. "Would it make you so very happy?"
"Yes! Please?" She put her hands together in supplication. "Just until midnight?"
"Very well." He kissed her again, lingering at her lips for a long moment before leaping off the throne and towards the exit. "You're it!"
Penelo stared after him, jaw open in shock. "Larsa Ferrinas Solidor—that was cheating!" She gathered her skirts and took off at a dead run. Larsa's laugh carried behind him, then cut off abruptly as he ran through a wall. Penelo dived through after him, torn between laughing and yelling imprecations at his back.
They chased each other well past midnight, waking the entire palace with their haunting. Even ghosts have their traditions.
Title: Undercover Mission
Series: Kingdom Hearts
Rating: SNUG
Warning: None
Word count: ~200
"We are going to Halloween Town."
"Yep!"
"To 'trick or treat'."
"Exactly!"
"Are you certain that this will aid us in collecting hearts?" Zexion looked down at his costume—and it was a costume, down to the tinsel and cotton candy blue glitz. Nothing so ostentatious could be considered clothing. The wig kept slipping. "I'm certain that the Superior would not approve of this plan."
"The Superior is at Hollow Bastion." Demyx grinned and pushed his hood back. He'd dressed as a Shadow Heartless, and had somehow even been able to make the eyes glow that particularly malevolent shade of yellow that the Shadows were so known for. "He won't know until we've already come back with a haul."
Zexion glared at his partner, weighing how much of Demyx's enthusiasm was for the mission and how much was for the candy that inevitably came from visiting Halloween Town on this particular Eve. But it would get new hearts...
His shoulders slumped in defeat. "Fine."
Demyx tossed a black-clad arm over Zexion's shoulder. "Great! Now, if anyone asks, you're dressed as Glinda, the Good Witch, and you're tall for your age."
"I hate you."
"I love you too, Glindy."
Title: Killjoy
Series: Ultimates
Rating: SNUG
Warning: WTF; probably Bad Writing
Word count: ~200
Of all the strange things Steve had deal with since waking up in modern times and joining the Ultimates, this one had to be the strangest. "None of you have costumes? Not even you, Tony?" He'd been certain that Tony would have some sort of costume party to go to. Stark never turned down a party.
Tony swirled his breakfast drink, which looked like green goo and smelled like something liberally mixed with vodka. "Don't you think dressing up is a bit redundant for the likes of us?"
"Only if you go as Iron Man."
"I think you may be missing the point." Tony raised his eyebrows. "Halloween is for the kiddies, Steve. Leave it to them."
Steve used to love Halloween. Even when they'd been too poor to really celebrate, he and Bucky had always done something. He'd worn an old dust cloth as a costume more than once, but that had been enough to go door to door. Having that dismissed so casually made his fists ball up.
This year, he had a real costume for the first time ever, and he wasn't about to waste it. "Okay. Then I'll leave it for the kids." He turned to leave, before Tony could make him angrier.
Bucky had grandkids. One of them had to be young enough to go trick or treating.
Title: Clean-up
Series: Ultimate Captain America
Rating: SNIP
Warning: So vaguely Halloween that it might as well not be >.>; Possibly disturbing. Lack of happytiemz.
Word count: ~450
Note: I may have failed this prompt utterly. D:
It wasn't often Captain America was on clean-up duty. Usually, he and Bucky found themselves on a transport to the next big disaster before the smoke had cleared from the last one. This time, someone had decided that it was worth a few days of his time to get a photograph of Captain America Cleaning Up After the Nazis. And so here he was, Halloween in some God forsaken town in Eastern Europe, going through downed buildings shoulder to shoulder with boys old enough to shave but not to hold their stomachs when they found a body.
The houses were small, but poorly constructed enough that they'd collapsed before the sleepers inside could escape when the attack had hit. It was ugly, punishing, endless work. For every one survivor, they found ten that were long gone.
For all of that, Steve didn't mind. It was good to do something that had immediate results for once, and even one life was enough. They were coming fewer apart, though. It had been two days. By tomorrow, they'd only be pulling out corpses.
Cheers went up from the other side of the street. "Cap! Cap, get over here!" someone yelled. "We've got a live one!"
Steve finished setting down the beam he'd been holding, then went to work with the others. He lifted the heaviest pieces: parts of the slate roof, wooden beams, sections of wall—whatever would take more hands than just his otherwise. Bucky was in the group too, camera swinging around his neck as he helped the effort.
It had been a hand that they'd found first. The rest of the arm followed, bent at an angle that couldn't be anything good, and then the shoulders and back. The woman was barely breathing, and even that seemed to be taking her too much effort. Alive now, Steve knew, but she wouldn't be for long.
The medics moved in as soon as she was clear enough to shift and lifted her onto a stretcher. One of them glanced down and cursed, almost dropping his patient.
A little girl so tiny that she couldn't be more than four stared up at them from a tiny dent in the dirt. It had been barely big enough for her mother's body to cover. Dust and ash turned her skin and hair a uniform shade of murky gray except where tear tracks had washed it clean. She said one word, just one, in a language Steve didn't know. The way her eyes tracked her mother, he didn't need a translator.
Without a word, Steve scooped the girl up, taking her away from where her mother was struggling to breathe. She fought, pushing against his shoulders and screaming, but he kept walking.
Some things children shouldn't see.
Title: Hats
Series: Ultimates
Rating: SNUG
Warning: None
Word count: ~350
The party was as swanky as Steve had expected. The only difference between it and every other one Tony had ever thrown was the costumes. Steve didn't recognize half of them, and it seemed like most of the women's costumes were just different colors of the same too-short dress. There were even a few female Captain Americas, though he was certain that four inch high heels would be a better way to break an ankle than fight anything.
"Enjoying yourself?" Tony appeared at his elbow, drink in hand. Steve turned to look at him and froze.
Tight—tight tooled leather pants, at least as close-fitting as the Captain America costume. Loose white shirt, left open enough to display his chest and not at all contained by the leather vest. Gun belts, and that shouldn't have sent a spike of heat down to Steve's groin as quickly as it did. "What are you wearing?"
"It's called a costume, Steve. People wear them for such occasions as Halloween or, more frequently, for really hot sex." Tony put his grey cowboy hat on, tipping it down so it shadowed his eyes, and Steve was abruptly glad that he was already leaning against a wall. "I realize that this concept of fun may be new to you, but do try to keep up."
Steve was horrified to realize that he was blushing. "I mean, who are you supposed to be? I don't recognize it."
"You've heard of black hats and white hats?" Steve nodded numbly, and Tony flicked the brim of his cowboy hat. "I'm the other one. I steal the girl, not the cattle." Blue eyes slid down Steve's body and back up again. "And perhaps the sheriff as well, when the mood strikes."
Before Steve could untangle his tongue enough to ask what that had been about, Tony pressed something into his hand and vanished back into the party goers, leaving Steve with more questions than he wanted the answers to. He looked down at his palm to see what Tony had given him.
A tin star.
Title: The Halloween Box
Series: Ultimates
Rating: SNUG
Warning: CORN
Word count: ~350
Tony stepped slowly around the wooden box, circling it like a hungry vulture. It was plain, severely so, without even a single shred of honest decoration to its name. At one time, someone had attempted to paint it white. Little scrapings still remained along the edges and corners, and even that was faded and grey from time. At only three feet square, it was too small to hold anything significant.
"I don't trust magic." Tony glared at Steve, who was lounging against the lab wall with his arms crossed, posed like the icon of casual masculinity he was. "It's some sort of trick. A box can't hold dreams just because it's an arbitrary day of the year. It goes against all reason."
For someone who had been raised in a significantly more staid era than the modern one, Steve seemed all too pleased with the enigma of the box. "Strange seemed to think it's real."
"What if it's a trap?"
Steve raised a single blond eyebrow. "I promise I'll rescue you from the box if it's a trap."
Tony treated him with another hair-curling glare, but the good Captain was far too resilient for even Tony's best efforts. The box reacted more. Slowly, he reached in, stretching his arm all the way in to the shoulder, well past what it should actually hold. His hand fumbled in the empty space, seeking anything at all.
It was preposterous, and absolutely against anything with a faint resemblance to common sense. A box couldn't sense what day of the year it was, nor tell what someone's deepest wish happened to be. There was no way in the world—
Someone grabbed his hand.
Tony yelped and tugged away, but whoever it was refused to release him. Inch by inch he pulled, dragging his attacker up. The beginnings of a familiar, red-leather glove peeped over the edge before it slipped away, falling back into the darkness.
Steve's head appeared beside Tony's, staring into the depths of the box. "What was that? It looked red, but I didn't see..." Dry, disgusting filth coated Tony's tongue, the residue of a good drink in a dry mouth, as he stared down at Steve's hands on the edge of the box. Steve's red-gloved hands.
He needed a drink. Badly. "Nothing. It was— absolutely nothing."
Title: Ghosts of Future Past
Series: Avengers 616
Rating:
Warning: Death
Word count: ~300
It was the cold that woke Steve, a chill that reached down and froze him to the bone, to the soul, deeper than even the Arctic ice. He didn't even need to open his eyes to know what had caused the sudden drop in temperature, but he did anyway, sitting up to face his visitor. His eyebrows rose in surprise when he saw who it was—or rather, who it wasn't. "You're back."
Tony Stark—not a lost soldier, or friend, or any of the others that had plagued him—perched on the end of Steve's bed, legs folded under him. He was silvery and translucent, glowing faintly in the dark. I'm sorry, Tony said, his voice hollow and echoing between Steve's ears. I didn't mean to wake you.
Steve propped himself against the headboard, crossing his own legs to mirror Tony's. He knew for a fact that Tony was out with some lady, having a night on the town, with Iron Man trailing faithfully behind. With just as much certainty, he knew the specter on his bed was also Tony, though he couldn't say how he knew. Instinct trumped common sense. "I'm dreaming, aren't I?"
It's a little more complicated than that. Tony ran his hand through his hair—his robotic hand. Technically, I think I'm haunting you. I can play with the lights, if that would make you feel better.
"You can't haunt me. You're not dead."
Yet. When Tony's eyes met his, some trick of the light made them look blue, rather than the same grey as the rest of him. Can you blame me for haunting happier times?
The robot hand seemed to shine when Steve dared to glance at it. How bad was the future, if a well-protected civilian couldn't even be saved? "No, I guess not."
Go back to bed, Cap. Tony started to fade, going from a clear shape to a mere glimmer of light. I'll keep the other ghosts away. I never did share well.
Title: In Flagrante Delicto
Series: Avengers 616
Rating: SNUG
Warning: None
Word count: ~300
"This is ridiculous."
"You say that now." Steve crossed his arms and tried to look stern as Tony struggled with the scale mail shirt. The stitching wasn't the best, and Tony had to be careful putting it on or he would risk popping a seam. "You're the one who dressed like me for Halloween. The least you can do is show me the costume."
Tony finished pulling the shirt over his head, glaring mildly. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."
"You've said that before." Steve gestured imperiously. "Stand up. Let me see."
With a long-suffering sigh, Tony did as he was told, arms out to either side like a child playing at flying. "Do I meet approval?"
It was a horrible job. The stitching around the star was clearly visible, and Tony had obviously never been taught how to sew leather. Clearly expensive materials matched up with terrible craftsmanship to make a costume that was clearly a costume, rather than something that could have been commissioned by one of the richest men in the world. A man who happened to have the authentic thing on hand to compare to. "Why didn't you have one made?"
Poorly-attached scales jingled as Tony twisted to glance at Steve over his shoulder. "I don't know. It... wouldn't have felt right, I guess. Anyone could have a replica made."
There were times that Steve forgot that Tony didn't think in the same way normal people did, and then Tony said things like that and he was reminded. "Next time, ask me for help."
"Yes, well, you were—" Tony yelped as Steve's hands slid into his back pockets. A groan followed as Steve's teeth sank into the sweet spot just under his hairline. "Oh no—I just got this thing on. Do you have any idea how hard it is to take this off?"
Steve nipped again, and was rewarded with Tony sinking back against him like his muscles had turned to putty. "Who said anything about taking it off?"
Title: Best Laid Plans
Series: Young Avengers; Avengers 616
Rating: SNUG
Warning: Jailbait
Word count: ~450
The goatee itched. That was the only downside to looking like Tony Stark, as far as Billy could tell. Tony was tall, dark, handsome and well-dressed, but his facial hair was a pain. He'd felt it grow when the spell took hold, and that had to almost as weird as the time he'd turned himself into Ms. Marvel.
Billy double-checked his disguise one more time. He only had ten minutes before the spell would break, but that should be enough time. Grab a kiss and get out; that was the plan. No one would ever know.
Show time.
"Good morning, Cap!" Billy did his best to copy Tony's grin as he walked into the kitchen.
Steve Rogers—actual Steve Rogers oh god3blinked at him blearily from behind a glass of milk. He was still dressed in his pajamas, which were less revealing than Billy had hoped. "It's five A.M. What are you doing up?"
"Just grabbing a cup of coffee. I have an appointment." Billy reached past Cap towards the cabinet with the mugs. Cap's t-shirt was so thin that his muscles stood out through the fabric, and that really wasn't playing fair. Nervous butterflies threatened to fly out of his stomach through his throat. Before he could lose his nerve, Billy twisted around and planted a quick kiss on Cap's lips, then grabbed a mug to make his escape.
To try and make his escape. Cap's hands planted on the counter to either side of Billy's hips, meaning he either needed to get down on his knees—ohgodohgodohgod—or stay put.
Billy froze. "Cap, what are you—" Steve's lips pressed against his, and Billy's knees tried to give out. That was okay, though, since Cap pressed him up against the countertop. He didn't need his knees that much.
"Steve, have you seen my— What the hell?"
Cap backed away so quickly that Billy dropped down a foot before his legs started working again. Tony—the real Tony, oh crap—stared at them from the doorway that led down to his basement lab.
Cap looked back and forth between them. "If you're—then who are you?"
And of course, that's when the spell started to end. Cap's expression changed from confusion to mild horror as Billy shrank down and Tony's clothes faded back into his own jeans and t-shirt. As the tingle of the transformation crept over his skin, he dived for the safety of the living room. "Sorry gotta go bye!"
Behind him, there came the sounds of a struggle and of someone heavy hitting the floor.
"You were kissing him! He's jailbait, Steve!"
"I thought he was you!"
"Me?!"
"Yes! I didn't— mmmph. Mmm..."
Worst. Plan. Ever.
Title: Treatless
Series: Deadpool
Rating: SNUG
Warning: Deadpool. Just Deadpool.
Word count: ~200
This isn't going to go well.
Shuddup, will you? We've got to try.
The door opened.
Wade beamed under his little cowboy hat and held out his pillowcase hopefully. "Trick or Treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat! If you don't, I don't care, I'll pull down my underwear!"
The door slammed.
Off to the side of the porch, Bob Agent of HYDRA hid his face in his hands. His only concession to the holiday was a pair of googly, light-up antenna on springs. "Mr. Wilson, sir, maybe that would work better if you started with your pants up? Or wore underwear?"
"Don't be stupid." Deadpool bent over to pick up his pants and caps, buckling his belt firmly around his waist. "The fangirls like a show. Author could throw in some more description though."
Hey, it's a drabble. What do you want from me, a novel about your penis? DON'T ANSWER THAT.
"Of course. The author." Bob didn't even bother to argue. He'd learned.
Good boy.
Are we going to do it?
Of course we're going to do it. We are, aren't we?
Deadpool pulled out his gun and checked the ammo with a grin. "No treats. Time for tricks."
Title: Heroes and Monsters
Series: Marvel Adventures Avengers
Rating: SNUG
Warning: None
Word count: ~450
Food. Sleep. Coffee. Food. Coffee. Coffee...
Tony stumbled up from his lab, eyes barely open. He hadn't slept in days, but he was so close to figuring out how to narrow a repulsor beam down to a microscopic level. If he could just get it small enough, the uses could be endless.
There was noise coming from upstairs, but he barely registered it. The percolator called. Not literally, but that was a good idea, now that he thought of it. He could do that after the repulsor thing.
Coffee. Food. Coffee...
The door swung open and noise like a thousand people in agony blasted him. Tony yelped and jumped backwards, arms wind-milling as he tried to keep from tripping down the stairs.
"Hey, Tony!" An ogre grinned at him with an entire face full of teeth. It was blue and scaly, with odd dots of glitter around its muzzle and eyes, like it had eaten the crafts aisle at Target. "Where have you been? The party's great! You— Tony— Tony?!"
Like a shot, Tony dived for the kitchen. The armor was down in the lab and there was no way he'd be able to get to it before he was eaten. There was a fire extinguisher in the kitchen—it would do as a weapon.
He had to shove through demons and zombies to get there, but the kitchen was blissfully empty of monsters. There was just Jarvis and a knight. Jarvis was good. Knights were better. Knights killed monsters, right?
He threw himself at the armored man. "Monsters. There— monsters. Teeth. GRAWR."
The knight lifted his helmet. It was Steve. Steve was even better than a knight. Steve would solve everything. He always did. "Tony, are you okay?" Steve put a gauntleted hand on Tony's shoulder. "You don't look well."
Clearly, Steve had missed what Tony was trying to say. "Monsters."
"Yes, I got that." Metal creaked as Steve bent over to look in Tony's eyes. Steve had very pretty eyes, Tony noticed distantly. "When did you sleep last?"
That was a weird question. "What day is it?"
"Saturday. Halloween? You're throwing a party?"
"Oh. Then... Um..." When did he sleep last? He thought it was Thursday, but that had been the day he came up with the microcircuit. He might have napped on Wednesday...
"That's not good." Steve took him by the shoulders and turned him around, forcing him to walk towards the bedrooms. "Bedtime for Tony."
"But— monsters. With teeth." And the repulsors. And coffee, he really wanted coffee.
"I promise I'll take care of the monsters. And their teeth."
That was good. Steve was good. "You're a hero."
Steve's hands stayed on Tony as he guided him up the stairs to the bedroom. "Just remember that when you wake up."
Title: Neighborly
Series: Marvel Adventures Avengers
Rating:
Warning: Crack
Word count: ~250
Captain America paced back and forth, shoulders back and chin up, the picture of perfect posture. "Wolverine: No claws. Spider-Man: No webbing anyone. Storm: Keep the skies clear. Tony: No flying. Giant Girl: Stay normal sized. Is everyone clear?"
Spider-Man lifted his face to the sky and saluted. "Yes, Sir, Captain America, sir."
"Why does Bruce get out of it?" Giant Girl asked, looking around for their missing member. "Everyone else has to."
Iron Man flipped up his faceplate. "Do you really want to risk Bruce Hulking out with a bunch of school kids?"
"Oh. Good point."
Wolverine's claws slid in and out as he flexed his fists. "I don't see why we've gotta—"
An iron-gloved hand covered his mouth. "We are not disappointing Cap and thirty school children," Iron Man hissed, sotto voce. "You are going to walk down these streets, ring those doorbells and not claw anything. Got it?"
The glare on Wolverine' face spoke of death and doom, but he nodded. Iron Man would pay, but under Captain America's eye, he didn't dare do it just then.
"So, when do the kids get here?" Spider-Man asked brightly, looking around the Stark Tower main lobby. Of all the Avengers, he and Giant Girl had been the only two to bring along their own bags.
"Right now." A hoard of costumed children poured into the lobby, screaming and cheering. Wolverine's face as he was swarmed under kept Tony content for weeks, right up until the day he found his old armor shredded.
Title: Ashes and Dust
NOTE: SPOILERS FOR MY HALLOWEEN FIC.
Series: Iron Man AU
Rating: SNIP
Warning: Death
Word count: ~400
The moonlight was bright and clear over the water, without a cloud in the sky to hide the stars. They glittered off Lady Liberty, who lifted her torch to the sky in welcome. Tony clutched his mother's urn and watched the moonlight dance over the ripples. He still couldn't believe she was gone, simply walked into the sun, as if she hadn't had a son at all. As if they hadn't known his father would die one day. Howard Stark had been human—adamantly human. He'd refused every chance Maria had given him to become a vampire, and look what it had caused.
Tony didn't think he'd ever forgive his father for being so selfish. If he'd just accepted, Tony wouldn't be there, hold his mother's remains. He was only nineteen. How was he supposed to do this alone?
"Master Anthony?" Jarvis faded into view in front of him, hands folded. He'd appeared on the waterline, so the little waves that rolled up the short crashed through his ghostly ankles, unaffected by the spirit standing in them. "Mr. Rhodes asked me to check on you."
Somehow, Tony dug up a wane smile, but it vanished as soon as he looked down at the ashes. "I'm... fine, thank you, Jarvis."
Jarvis drew up his legs, sitting atop thin air, his head tilted back. Moonlight seemed to shimmer off of him, making him glow more than usual. "I remember when your mother said farewell to your grandfather. It was on this very shore, some two centuries past. It seems your family always returns to this place, in one form or another."
Tony's hand clenched around the urn. "I miss her, Jarvis. How could she..?"
The ancient retainer bowed his head silently.
If she hadn't fallen in love with a human, if she hadn't let herself grow attached and then bonded, if she hadn't let Howard have his way, she would still be there. Tony knew that, the way he could feel the sun rise and set in his bones. "... I won't do what she did, Jarvis. No mortal could be worth it. No one."
The urn was gold, sealed tight against the water and heavy enough that when Tony heaved it, it barely achieved any arc at all before it splashed into the bay. He watched the ripples spread, and imagined it taking his promise down with it, where the waves and his mother would keep it safe.
When he died, he wouldn't leave anyone behind.
Title: Beguiler
Series: Avengers AU
Rating: SNIP
Warning: None
Word count: ~350
Tony's breath shuddered out of him as he plastered himself back against the wall, arching away from the warm body that was so close to his. They weren't touching at all, but that made it worse. It was the hint that, at any moment, they could touch that made Tony's skin prick in anticipation.
Darth Steve didn't make a move to crowd him farther back. He didn't need to—Tony had no where to go. The transport was too small to hide in, and Tony had been foolish enough to enter the cell. Stupid, but he'd listened to his story, been seduced by his philosophies, and now he had to pay the price for curiosity.
This was only a test of his will. Every Jedi faced them, and those who were strong enough would prevail. It was the way of things.
He hadn't thought his first test would come in such a provocative package. "I will not give in to you."
"Yes, you will." The dark robes of a Sith Lord brushed over the tops of Tony's bare feet as Steve leaned in, his lips hovering near Tony's ear. "You're curious, aren't you? About all these things the Council says to deny yourself. I can see it in your eyes."
"It's a flaw." Tony's voice wavered with uncertainty. "Curiosity in a thing leads to the thing itself. The forbidden must not be delved into, lest it..."
"Lead to opened eyes?" A warm, wet tongue slipped over the curve of Tony's earlobe, sending shivers down Tony's spine. "Peace is an illusion—it's locking yourself behind walls and stagnating. Passion is like the Force. It can be used for good or for evil. To help people."
Tony's head thunked back against the wall. It made sense—that was the risk, wasn't it? The dark side was beguiling, and he'd let himself be trapped. "How— how does this help anyone?"
Steve's knee slid between his thighs. His lips brushed over Tony's, so light that the touch could have been an illusion. "Let me show you."
Also?
jazzypom has woo'd me over to Dreamwidth. D: So much for not being a sheep... >.>; Baaaah.Title: A Working Birthday
Series: Dresden Files
Rating: SNUG
Warning: Language
Word count: ~400
Another year, another apocalypse. The crazies always come out tonight. Not only is it a night of power, but it's also popular with the cult crowd and the people who have more ability than brains. Funny, they're usually the same people. It's a double whammy of monsters and victims, with plenty of both. What is it with some people that they think inviting a Creature of the Abyss over for a beer will end well?
I'm not paid enough for this crap. Especially not for this crap on my birthday. I've worked on this night every year for ten years. Can't one damn Halloween go by without a tentacle monster?
This one's dead, though, and smelling a little like Popeye's. Say what you will about cliché, but electricity takes out damn near anything, from here or Beyond the Nevernever.
It also takes out about half of Chicago's power. Whoops.
A slow clap starts up behind me. One person, slightly muffled from gloves, and sarcastic enough that I resist the urge to check the walls for seepage. "Marcone."
"Dresden." Gentleman Johnny Marcone smiles and slips his hands into his pockets. It's sub-zero, the End That is Nigh weather and the man still looks like a king. Damn it. "Our hero, once again. Bravo."
"Can it, Marcone. I'm tired and covered with sushi. This is not the time to be on my shit list." And I just finished saving his ass, but that's sort of a given. I just saved a lot of asses. Apocalypse and all.
"Eloquent as always, Dresden. Fortunately, I've no intentions of being on your list." The streetlights are out, but the moon is just bright enough on the snow to see him smile. "I understand it's your birthday."
"Yeah. And?"
"Perhaps you would care for a celebratory dinner?" While I'm busy picking up my jaw, he laughs. It's a good laugh, low and dark. I'm pretty sure I heard something like it in a porno once. "And perhaps some drinks?"
This can't be happening. "Are you asking me out?"
"I believe I am."
This is happening. What the hell?
Then again, it's Halloween—a night for the strange and bizarre. There's not much weirder than this. Anyway, stopping an apocalypse isn't a paying job, and I'm broke. Only an idiot turns down a free meal. "Okay. But I get to choose the place."
I'll never admit to blushing when he smiles. It's cold out here, okay? "It's a date."
Title: Keeping Tradition Alive
Series: Final Fantasy XII
Rating: SNUG
Warning: Death
Word count: ~300
Every lamp in the throne room was dark, leaving it swathed in shadows. Only a few stray beams of moonlight trickled in through the glass panes that replaced the walls. Heavy clouds covered the Archadian night sky, which themselves were pale silver from the lights of the city below. Archades was peaceful, as a place can only be after night has settled in and its denizens have gone to their rest.
"Larsa, come on." Penelo leaned over the double throne, lips pursed in a faintly melodramatic pout. One of her hands wrapped around her husband's shin where he'd kicked his leg over the arm of the throne. Pale silk whispered around her legs as she leaned even farther over the chair. "It's all Hallow's Eve. It's tradition. You don't want to ignore that, do you?"
"Here I thought you paid tradition little heed. I seem to recall you wearing distinctly colorful wedding attire." For all that his voice was stern, a smile played over Larsa's lips. When Penelo's pout only deepened, he laughed and leaned forward to plant a light kiss on her lower lip. "Would it make you so very happy?"
"Yes! Please?" She put her hands together in supplication. "Just until midnight?"
"Very well." He kissed her again, lingering at her lips for a long moment before leaping off the throne and towards the exit. "You're it!"
Penelo stared after him, jaw open in shock. "Larsa Ferrinas Solidor—that was cheating!" She gathered her skirts and took off at a dead run. Larsa's laugh carried behind him, then cut off abruptly as he ran through a wall. Penelo dived through after him, torn between laughing and yelling imprecations at his back.
They chased each other well past midnight, waking the entire palace with their haunting. Even ghosts have their traditions.
Title: Undercover Mission
Series: Kingdom Hearts
Rating: SNUG
Warning: None
Word count: ~200
"We are going to Halloween Town."
"Yep!"
"To 'trick or treat'."
"Exactly!"
"Are you certain that this will aid us in collecting hearts?" Zexion looked down at his costume—and it was a costume, down to the tinsel and cotton candy blue glitz. Nothing so ostentatious could be considered clothing. The wig kept slipping. "I'm certain that the Superior would not approve of this plan."
"The Superior is at Hollow Bastion." Demyx grinned and pushed his hood back. He'd dressed as a Shadow Heartless, and had somehow even been able to make the eyes glow that particularly malevolent shade of yellow that the Shadows were so known for. "He won't know until we've already come back with a haul."
Zexion glared at his partner, weighing how much of Demyx's enthusiasm was for the mission and how much was for the candy that inevitably came from visiting Halloween Town on this particular Eve. But it would get new hearts...
His shoulders slumped in defeat. "Fine."
Demyx tossed a black-clad arm over Zexion's shoulder. "Great! Now, if anyone asks, you're dressed as Glinda, the Good Witch, and you're tall for your age."
"I hate you."
"I love you too, Glindy."
Title: Killjoy
Series: Ultimates
Rating: SNUG
Warning: WTF; probably Bad Writing
Word count: ~200
Of all the strange things Steve had deal with since waking up in modern times and joining the Ultimates, this one had to be the strangest. "None of you have costumes? Not even you, Tony?" He'd been certain that Tony would have some sort of costume party to go to. Stark never turned down a party.
Tony swirled his breakfast drink, which looked like green goo and smelled like something liberally mixed with vodka. "Don't you think dressing up is a bit redundant for the likes of us?"
"Only if you go as Iron Man."
"I think you may be missing the point." Tony raised his eyebrows. "Halloween is for the kiddies, Steve. Leave it to them."
Steve used to love Halloween. Even when they'd been too poor to really celebrate, he and Bucky had always done something. He'd worn an old dust cloth as a costume more than once, but that had been enough to go door to door. Having that dismissed so casually made his fists ball up.
This year, he had a real costume for the first time ever, and he wasn't about to waste it. "Okay. Then I'll leave it for the kids." He turned to leave, before Tony could make him angrier.
Bucky had grandkids. One of them had to be young enough to go trick or treating.
Title: Clean-up
Series: Ultimate Captain America
Rating: SNIP
Warning: So vaguely Halloween that it might as well not be >.>; Possibly disturbing. Lack of happytiemz.
Word count: ~450
Note: I may have failed this prompt utterly. D:
It wasn't often Captain America was on clean-up duty. Usually, he and Bucky found themselves on a transport to the next big disaster before the smoke had cleared from the last one. This time, someone had decided that it was worth a few days of his time to get a photograph of Captain America Cleaning Up After the Nazis. And so here he was, Halloween in some God forsaken town in Eastern Europe, going through downed buildings shoulder to shoulder with boys old enough to shave but not to hold their stomachs when they found a body.
The houses were small, but poorly constructed enough that they'd collapsed before the sleepers inside could escape when the attack had hit. It was ugly, punishing, endless work. For every one survivor, they found ten that were long gone.
For all of that, Steve didn't mind. It was good to do something that had immediate results for once, and even one life was enough. They were coming fewer apart, though. It had been two days. By tomorrow, they'd only be pulling out corpses.
Cheers went up from the other side of the street. "Cap! Cap, get over here!" someone yelled. "We've got a live one!"
Steve finished setting down the beam he'd been holding, then went to work with the others. He lifted the heaviest pieces: parts of the slate roof, wooden beams, sections of wall—whatever would take more hands than just his otherwise. Bucky was in the group too, camera swinging around his neck as he helped the effort.
It had been a hand that they'd found first. The rest of the arm followed, bent at an angle that couldn't be anything good, and then the shoulders and back. The woman was barely breathing, and even that seemed to be taking her too much effort. Alive now, Steve knew, but she wouldn't be for long.
The medics moved in as soon as she was clear enough to shift and lifted her onto a stretcher. One of them glanced down and cursed, almost dropping his patient.
A little girl so tiny that she couldn't be more than four stared up at them from a tiny dent in the dirt. It had been barely big enough for her mother's body to cover. Dust and ash turned her skin and hair a uniform shade of murky gray except where tear tracks had washed it clean. She said one word, just one, in a language Steve didn't know. The way her eyes tracked her mother, he didn't need a translator.
Without a word, Steve scooped the girl up, taking her away from where her mother was struggling to breathe. She fought, pushing against his shoulders and screaming, but he kept walking.
Some things children shouldn't see.
Title: Hats
Series: Ultimates
Rating: SNUG
Warning: None
Word count: ~350
The party was as swanky as Steve had expected. The only difference between it and every other one Tony had ever thrown was the costumes. Steve didn't recognize half of them, and it seemed like most of the women's costumes were just different colors of the same too-short dress. There were even a few female Captain Americas, though he was certain that four inch high heels would be a better way to break an ankle than fight anything.
"Enjoying yourself?" Tony appeared at his elbow, drink in hand. Steve turned to look at him and froze.
Tight—tight tooled leather pants, at least as close-fitting as the Captain America costume. Loose white shirt, left open enough to display his chest and not at all contained by the leather vest. Gun belts, and that shouldn't have sent a spike of heat down to Steve's groin as quickly as it did. "What are you wearing?"
"It's called a costume, Steve. People wear them for such occasions as Halloween or, more frequently, for really hot sex." Tony put his grey cowboy hat on, tipping it down so it shadowed his eyes, and Steve was abruptly glad that he was already leaning against a wall. "I realize that this concept of fun may be new to you, but do try to keep up."
Steve was horrified to realize that he was blushing. "I mean, who are you supposed to be? I don't recognize it."
"You've heard of black hats and white hats?" Steve nodded numbly, and Tony flicked the brim of his cowboy hat. "I'm the other one. I steal the girl, not the cattle." Blue eyes slid down Steve's body and back up again. "And perhaps the sheriff as well, when the mood strikes."
Before Steve could untangle his tongue enough to ask what that had been about, Tony pressed something into his hand and vanished back into the party goers, leaving Steve with more questions than he wanted the answers to. He looked down at his palm to see what Tony had given him.
A tin star.
Title: The Halloween Box
Series: Ultimates
Rating: SNUG
Warning: CORN
Word count: ~350
Tony stepped slowly around the wooden box, circling it like a hungry vulture. It was plain, severely so, without even a single shred of honest decoration to its name. At one time, someone had attempted to paint it white. Little scrapings still remained along the edges and corners, and even that was faded and grey from time. At only three feet square, it was too small to hold anything significant.
"I don't trust magic." Tony glared at Steve, who was lounging against the lab wall with his arms crossed, posed like the icon of casual masculinity he was. "It's some sort of trick. A box can't hold dreams just because it's an arbitrary day of the year. It goes against all reason."
For someone who had been raised in a significantly more staid era than the modern one, Steve seemed all too pleased with the enigma of the box. "Strange seemed to think it's real."
"What if it's a trap?"
Steve raised a single blond eyebrow. "I promise I'll rescue you from the box if it's a trap."
Tony treated him with another hair-curling glare, but the good Captain was far too resilient for even Tony's best efforts. The box reacted more. Slowly, he reached in, stretching his arm all the way in to the shoulder, well past what it should actually hold. His hand fumbled in the empty space, seeking anything at all.
It was preposterous, and absolutely against anything with a faint resemblance to common sense. A box couldn't sense what day of the year it was, nor tell what someone's deepest wish happened to be. There was no way in the world—
Someone grabbed his hand.
Tony yelped and tugged away, but whoever it was refused to release him. Inch by inch he pulled, dragging his attacker up. The beginnings of a familiar, red-leather glove peeped over the edge before it slipped away, falling back into the darkness.
Steve's head appeared beside Tony's, staring into the depths of the box. "What was that? It looked red, but I didn't see..." Dry, disgusting filth coated Tony's tongue, the residue of a good drink in a dry mouth, as he stared down at Steve's hands on the edge of the box. Steve's red-gloved hands.
He needed a drink. Badly. "Nothing. It was— absolutely nothing."
Title: Ghosts of Future Past
Series: Avengers 616
Rating:
Warning: Death
Word count: ~300
It was the cold that woke Steve, a chill that reached down and froze him to the bone, to the soul, deeper than even the Arctic ice. He didn't even need to open his eyes to know what had caused the sudden drop in temperature, but he did anyway, sitting up to face his visitor. His eyebrows rose in surprise when he saw who it was—or rather, who it wasn't. "You're back."
Tony Stark—not a lost soldier, or friend, or any of the others that had plagued him—perched on the end of Steve's bed, legs folded under him. He was silvery and translucent, glowing faintly in the dark. I'm sorry, Tony said, his voice hollow and echoing between Steve's ears. I didn't mean to wake you.
Steve propped himself against the headboard, crossing his own legs to mirror Tony's. He knew for a fact that Tony was out with some lady, having a night on the town, with Iron Man trailing faithfully behind. With just as much certainty, he knew the specter on his bed was also Tony, though he couldn't say how he knew. Instinct trumped common sense. "I'm dreaming, aren't I?"
It's a little more complicated than that. Tony ran his hand through his hair—his robotic hand. Technically, I think I'm haunting you. I can play with the lights, if that would make you feel better.
"You can't haunt me. You're not dead."
Yet. When Tony's eyes met his, some trick of the light made them look blue, rather than the same grey as the rest of him. Can you blame me for haunting happier times?
The robot hand seemed to shine when Steve dared to glance at it. How bad was the future, if a well-protected civilian couldn't even be saved? "No, I guess not."
Go back to bed, Cap. Tony started to fade, going from a clear shape to a mere glimmer of light. I'll keep the other ghosts away. I never did share well.
Title: In Flagrante Delicto
Series: Avengers 616
Rating: SNUG
Warning: None
Word count: ~300
"This is ridiculous."
"You say that now." Steve crossed his arms and tried to look stern as Tony struggled with the scale mail shirt. The stitching wasn't the best, and Tony had to be careful putting it on or he would risk popping a seam. "You're the one who dressed like me for Halloween. The least you can do is show me the costume."
Tony finished pulling the shirt over his head, glaring mildly. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."
"You've said that before." Steve gestured imperiously. "Stand up. Let me see."
With a long-suffering sigh, Tony did as he was told, arms out to either side like a child playing at flying. "Do I meet approval?"
It was a horrible job. The stitching around the star was clearly visible, and Tony had obviously never been taught how to sew leather. Clearly expensive materials matched up with terrible craftsmanship to make a costume that was clearly a costume, rather than something that could have been commissioned by one of the richest men in the world. A man who happened to have the authentic thing on hand to compare to. "Why didn't you have one made?"
Poorly-attached scales jingled as Tony twisted to glance at Steve over his shoulder. "I don't know. It... wouldn't have felt right, I guess. Anyone could have a replica made."
There were times that Steve forgot that Tony didn't think in the same way normal people did, and then Tony said things like that and he was reminded. "Next time, ask me for help."
"Yes, well, you were—" Tony yelped as Steve's hands slid into his back pockets. A groan followed as Steve's teeth sank into the sweet spot just under his hairline. "Oh no—I just got this thing on. Do you have any idea how hard it is to take this off?"
Steve nipped again, and was rewarded with Tony sinking back against him like his muscles had turned to putty. "Who said anything about taking it off?"
Title: Best Laid Plans
Series: Young Avengers; Avengers 616
Rating: SNUG
Warning: Jailbait
Word count: ~450
The goatee itched. That was the only downside to looking like Tony Stark, as far as Billy could tell. Tony was tall, dark, handsome and well-dressed, but his facial hair was a pain. He'd felt it grow when the spell took hold, and that had to almost as weird as the time he'd turned himself into Ms. Marvel.
Billy double-checked his disguise one more time. He only had ten minutes before the spell would break, but that should be enough time. Grab a kiss and get out; that was the plan. No one would ever know.
Show time.
"Good morning, Cap!" Billy did his best to copy Tony's grin as he walked into the kitchen.
Steve Rogers—actual Steve Rogers oh god3blinked at him blearily from behind a glass of milk. He was still dressed in his pajamas, which were less revealing than Billy had hoped. "It's five A.M. What are you doing up?"
"Just grabbing a cup of coffee. I have an appointment." Billy reached past Cap towards the cabinet with the mugs. Cap's t-shirt was so thin that his muscles stood out through the fabric, and that really wasn't playing fair. Nervous butterflies threatened to fly out of his stomach through his throat. Before he could lose his nerve, Billy twisted around and planted a quick kiss on Cap's lips, then grabbed a mug to make his escape.
To try and make his escape. Cap's hands planted on the counter to either side of Billy's hips, meaning he either needed to get down on his knees—ohgodohgodohgod—or stay put.
Billy froze. "Cap, what are you—" Steve's lips pressed against his, and Billy's knees tried to give out. That was okay, though, since Cap pressed him up against the countertop. He didn't need his knees that much.
"Steve, have you seen my— What the hell?"
Cap backed away so quickly that Billy dropped down a foot before his legs started working again. Tony—the real Tony, oh crap—stared at them from the doorway that led down to his basement lab.
Cap looked back and forth between them. "If you're—then who are you?"
And of course, that's when the spell started to end. Cap's expression changed from confusion to mild horror as Billy shrank down and Tony's clothes faded back into his own jeans and t-shirt. As the tingle of the transformation crept over his skin, he dived for the safety of the living room. "Sorry gotta go bye!"
Behind him, there came the sounds of a struggle and of someone heavy hitting the floor.
"You were kissing him! He's jailbait, Steve!"
"I thought he was you!"
"Me?!"
"Yes! I didn't— mmmph. Mmm..."
Worst. Plan. Ever.
Title: Treatless
Series: Deadpool
Rating: SNUG
Warning: Deadpool. Just Deadpool.
Word count: ~200
This isn't going to go well.
Shuddup, will you? We've got to try.
The door opened.
Wade beamed under his little cowboy hat and held out his pillowcase hopefully. "Trick or Treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat! If you don't, I don't care, I'll pull down my underwear!"
The door slammed.
Off to the side of the porch, Bob Agent of HYDRA hid his face in his hands. His only concession to the holiday was a pair of googly, light-up antenna on springs. "Mr. Wilson, sir, maybe that would work better if you started with your pants up? Or wore underwear?"
"Don't be stupid." Deadpool bent over to pick up his pants and caps, buckling his belt firmly around his waist. "The fangirls like a show. Author could throw in some more description though."
Hey, it's a drabble. What do you want from me, a novel about your penis? DON'T ANSWER THAT.
"Of course. The author." Bob didn't even bother to argue. He'd learned.
Good boy.
Are we going to do it?
Of course we're going to do it. We are, aren't we?
Deadpool pulled out his gun and checked the ammo with a grin. "No treats. Time for tricks."
Title: Heroes and Monsters
Series: Marvel Adventures Avengers
Rating: SNUG
Warning: None
Word count: ~450
Food. Sleep. Coffee. Food. Coffee. Coffee...
Tony stumbled up from his lab, eyes barely open. He hadn't slept in days, but he was so close to figuring out how to narrow a repulsor beam down to a microscopic level. If he could just get it small enough, the uses could be endless.
There was noise coming from upstairs, but he barely registered it. The percolator called. Not literally, but that was a good idea, now that he thought of it. He could do that after the repulsor thing.
Coffee. Food. Coffee...
The door swung open and noise like a thousand people in agony blasted him. Tony yelped and jumped backwards, arms wind-milling as he tried to keep from tripping down the stairs.
"Hey, Tony!" An ogre grinned at him with an entire face full of teeth. It was blue and scaly, with odd dots of glitter around its muzzle and eyes, like it had eaten the crafts aisle at Target. "Where have you been? The party's great! You— Tony— Tony?!"
Like a shot, Tony dived for the kitchen. The armor was down in the lab and there was no way he'd be able to get to it before he was eaten. There was a fire extinguisher in the kitchen—it would do as a weapon.
He had to shove through demons and zombies to get there, but the kitchen was blissfully empty of monsters. There was just Jarvis and a knight. Jarvis was good. Knights were better. Knights killed monsters, right?
He threw himself at the armored man. "Monsters. There— monsters. Teeth. GRAWR."
The knight lifted his helmet. It was Steve. Steve was even better than a knight. Steve would solve everything. He always did. "Tony, are you okay?" Steve put a gauntleted hand on Tony's shoulder. "You don't look well."
Clearly, Steve had missed what Tony was trying to say. "Monsters."
"Yes, I got that." Metal creaked as Steve bent over to look in Tony's eyes. Steve had very pretty eyes, Tony noticed distantly. "When did you sleep last?"
That was a weird question. "What day is it?"
"Saturday. Halloween? You're throwing a party?"
"Oh. Then... Um..." When did he sleep last? He thought it was Thursday, but that had been the day he came up with the microcircuit. He might have napped on Wednesday...
"That's not good." Steve took him by the shoulders and turned him around, forcing him to walk towards the bedrooms. "Bedtime for Tony."
"But— monsters. With teeth." And the repulsors. And coffee, he really wanted coffee.
"I promise I'll take care of the monsters. And their teeth."
That was good. Steve was good. "You're a hero."
Steve's hands stayed on Tony as he guided him up the stairs to the bedroom. "Just remember that when you wake up."
Title: Neighborly
Series: Marvel Adventures Avengers
Rating:
Warning: Crack
Word count: ~250
Captain America paced back and forth, shoulders back and chin up, the picture of perfect posture. "Wolverine: No claws. Spider-Man: No webbing anyone. Storm: Keep the skies clear. Tony: No flying. Giant Girl: Stay normal sized. Is everyone clear?"
Spider-Man lifted his face to the sky and saluted. "Yes, Sir, Captain America, sir."
"Why does Bruce get out of it?" Giant Girl asked, looking around for their missing member. "Everyone else has to."
Iron Man flipped up his faceplate. "Do you really want to risk Bruce Hulking out with a bunch of school kids?"
"Oh. Good point."
Wolverine's claws slid in and out as he flexed his fists. "I don't see why we've gotta—"
An iron-gloved hand covered his mouth. "We are not disappointing Cap and thirty school children," Iron Man hissed, sotto voce. "You are going to walk down these streets, ring those doorbells and not claw anything. Got it?"
The glare on Wolverine' face spoke of death and doom, but he nodded. Iron Man would pay, but under Captain America's eye, he didn't dare do it just then.
"So, when do the kids get here?" Spider-Man asked brightly, looking around the Stark Tower main lobby. Of all the Avengers, he and Giant Girl had been the only two to bring along their own bags.
"Right now." A hoard of costumed children poured into the lobby, screaming and cheering. Wolverine's face as he was swarmed under kept Tony content for weeks, right up until the day he found his old armor shredded.
Title: Ashes and Dust
NOTE: SPOILERS FOR MY HALLOWEEN FIC.
Series: Iron Man AU
Rating: SNIP
Warning: Death
Word count: ~400
The moonlight was bright and clear over the water, without a cloud in the sky to hide the stars. They glittered off Lady Liberty, who lifted her torch to the sky in welcome. Tony clutched his mother's urn and watched the moonlight dance over the ripples. He still couldn't believe she was gone, simply walked into the sun, as if she hadn't had a son at all. As if they hadn't known his father would die one day. Howard Stark had been human—adamantly human. He'd refused every chance Maria had given him to become a vampire, and look what it had caused.
Tony didn't think he'd ever forgive his father for being so selfish. If he'd just accepted, Tony wouldn't be there, hold his mother's remains. He was only nineteen. How was he supposed to do this alone?
"Master Anthony?" Jarvis faded into view in front of him, hands folded. He'd appeared on the waterline, so the little waves that rolled up the short crashed through his ghostly ankles, unaffected by the spirit standing in them. "Mr. Rhodes asked me to check on you."
Somehow, Tony dug up a wane smile, but it vanished as soon as he looked down at the ashes. "I'm... fine, thank you, Jarvis."
Jarvis drew up his legs, sitting atop thin air, his head tilted back. Moonlight seemed to shimmer off of him, making him glow more than usual. "I remember when your mother said farewell to your grandfather. It was on this very shore, some two centuries past. It seems your family always returns to this place, in one form or another."
Tony's hand clenched around the urn. "I miss her, Jarvis. How could she..?"
The ancient retainer bowed his head silently.
If she hadn't fallen in love with a human, if she hadn't let herself grow attached and then bonded, if she hadn't let Howard have his way, she would still be there. Tony knew that, the way he could feel the sun rise and set in his bones. "... I won't do what she did, Jarvis. No mortal could be worth it. No one."
The urn was gold, sealed tight against the water and heavy enough that when Tony heaved it, it barely achieved any arc at all before it splashed into the bay. He watched the ripples spread, and imagined it taking his promise down with it, where the waves and his mother would keep it safe.
When he died, he wouldn't leave anyone behind.
Title: Beguiler
Series: Avengers AU
Rating: SNIP
Warning: None
Word count: ~350
Tony's breath shuddered out of him as he plastered himself back against the wall, arching away from the warm body that was so close to his. They weren't touching at all, but that made it worse. It was the hint that, at any moment, they could touch that made Tony's skin prick in anticipation.
Darth Steve didn't make a move to crowd him farther back. He didn't need to—Tony had no where to go. The transport was too small to hide in, and Tony had been foolish enough to enter the cell. Stupid, but he'd listened to his story, been seduced by his philosophies, and now he had to pay the price for curiosity.
This was only a test of his will. Every Jedi faced them, and those who were strong enough would prevail. It was the way of things.
He hadn't thought his first test would come in such a provocative package. "I will not give in to you."
"Yes, you will." The dark robes of a Sith Lord brushed over the tops of Tony's bare feet as Steve leaned in, his lips hovering near Tony's ear. "You're curious, aren't you? About all these things the Council says to deny yourself. I can see it in your eyes."
"It's a flaw." Tony's voice wavered with uncertainty. "Curiosity in a thing leads to the thing itself. The forbidden must not be delved into, lest it..."
"Lead to opened eyes?" A warm, wet tongue slipped over the curve of Tony's earlobe, sending shivers down Tony's spine. "Peace is an illusion—it's locking yourself behind walls and stagnating. Passion is like the Force. It can be used for good or for evil. To help people."
Tony's head thunked back against the wall. It made sense—that was the risk, wasn't it? The dark side was beguiling, and he'd let himself be trapped. "How— how does this help anyone?"
Steve's knee slid between his thighs. His lips brushed over Tony's, so light that the touch could have been an illusion. "Let me show you."
no subject
Date: 2009-10-30 08:41 pm (UTC)If it's anything important, Steve will repeat it to him in tones of great irritation.
LOL. Steve would not be impressed with the internet in general. 616 Steve probably likes it; Ult Steve, not at all. But he does like Wikipedia. And Wookiepedia, once he finds it. And he likes being able to buy a Sith costume online, although I suspect he will not approve of the quality. Never mind. He doesn't expect to be wearing it for very long. (He's totally wrong, of course. Tony wants him to keep it on. But Tony will probably buy him a more authentic one, so.)
no subject
Date: 2009-10-30 08:53 pm (UTC)sexresults.And immediately cause Tony to realize that Jedi!Steve needs to say things in a growly tone much more often.
If Tony is a Star Wars fan, you know he has theater-quality costumes stored somewhere. Honestly, it wouldn't surprise me if he's been desperately working on a way to make a real lightsaber. And if Tony is going to have his fantasies come true, they're going to be high-quality, true-to-life fantasies.
no subject
Date: 2009-10-30 09:32 pm (UTC)Tony's pretty sure continually annoying Steve to get character details for his fic will end badly, but he's also vaguely hoping he'll get pinned to a wall and menaced.
Oh sure. Repulsors were an attempt at lightsabers, he just can't work out how to stop the beam.
no subject
Date: 2009-10-31 01:45 am (UTC)There's no way anything that includes being pinned to a wall by Steven Rogers can end badly. It just doesn't happen.
I'm sure he'll figure out how. Eventually. And then, oh, how the fanboys will rejoice.