ravenspear: (commit one sin; get one sin free!)
[personal profile] ravenspear

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, 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.

Rough Sex
Harsh, violent, angry, desperate, vicious, and/or hateful sex.

I like my characters very fucked up. Tragedy, angst, darkness, brokenness, guilt issues, shame, nightmares, self-hatred, it's all delicious.

Restraint By Physical Force
Pinning someone down; pushing someone's arm up behind their back during sex; covering or clasping someone's hands to prevent movement.

What can I say? I'm a sucker for the concept of love; anything and everything, from light, fluttery sweetness to unhealthily obsessive devotion, is absolutely lovely.

Voice Kink & Dirty Talk
Preeeeetty much what it says on the tin. X3

Angel Sanctuary
Alexiel/Rosiel, Rosiel/Katan, Sara/Setsuna, Kira/Kato, Kurai/Michael, Belial/anyone.

Battlestar Galactica
Pretty much anything that doesn't involve Lee, Roslin, or Cavil, but I am particularly fond of Leoben/Kara, Leoben/Kara/Sam, Kara/Felix, Gaius/Felix, Head!Six/Gaius, Six/Kara, and any cylon/cylon pairing (excepting, of course, Cavil/anyone).

Criminal Minds
Hotch/Morgan, Prentiss/Morgan.


Person of Interest
Reese/Finch, Carter/Finch, Carter/Reese.

Currently have a particular fondness for Castiel/Adam, Meg/Dean Meg/Jo, Uriel/anyone, Adam/anyone, Godstiel/anyone, Cthulhustiel/anyone, and angelcest. And I will probably sell my soul for some Anna/Dean/Uriel. But honestly, anything that isn't Castiel/Dean, Gabriel/Sam, or Wincest goes.

The Mentalist
Red John/anyone, Jane/Cho, Hightower/Lisbon, Lisbon/Cho, Van Pelt/Cho, Lisbon/Rigsby.

Battlestar Galactica/Supernatural
Six/Raphael, Six/Anna, Six/Castiel, Six/Balthazar, Kara/Castiel, Kara/Raphael, Kara/Dean, Leoben/Castiel, Leoben/Adam, Kara/Adam, Leoben/Kara/Anders/Adam. (...Seriously, just throw some characters from these fandoms together (excepting Lee, Roslin, and Cavil, obvs), and I am bound to adore it. XD)


Supernatural, Raphael/Balthazar, rough sex + dirty talk (+ love), R by [livejournal.com profile] super_seme04
Supernatural, Michael & Alastair, emo-kink + so much daaaaaaark, R by [livejournal.com profile] zekkass
Supernatural, Castiel/Adam, hate!sex, NC-17 by [livejournal.com profile] ladyknightanka
Supernatural, Castiel/Adam, rough/hate!sex, NC-17 by [livejournal.com profile] nights_fang


Supernatural, Castiel/Sam, bodyswap, PG-13 for [livejournal.com profile] zekkass
Angel Sanctuary/SPN, Belial/Balthazar, bondage + frottage + incest, R for [livejournal.com profile] nights_fang
Supernatural, Crowley/Adam, corporate!AU + rimming, NC-17 for [livejournal.com profile] ladyknightanka
From: [identity profile] super-seme04.livejournal.com
This vessel is not at all like her previous one and perhaps that's why he does it.

Her borrowed flesh is soft and pliant and her eyes are large and expressive.

This vessel is not one of authority.

It's a quiet night and Balthazar returns to the room that they're currently lodging in with alcohol.

Raphael's expression is dubious and wary, but Balthazar has never failed to be beguiling.

They sit and they drink.

They drink until they can no longer feel the absence of their brethren and the diminishing of their graces. When the time comes, before it's too late, Raphael will cleave her glory from this form and hide it within the earth.

She unconscionably clenches a hand to her chest and doesn't realize that her fingers have gone numb until Balthazar gently uncurls them. He then brings her wrist to his lips and presses the briefest kiss to her skin.

Raphael pauses then shifts (these legs are long and clumsy and her hair is constantly obscuring her vision) and finds her fingers splayed over his cheek.


This is not entirely unpleasant.

Balthazar keeps their gazes locked as he turns his head to kiss down her palm then lazily mouths at her wrist.

Raphael lets out a hitched breath and feels her face flame.

Their drinks are forgotten and what happens next is completely instinctual.

Balthazar pulls her into his lap and she straddles his thighs then they're rocking against each other urgently.

His fingers are pulling and twisting in her hair and his tongue is in her mouth then his hand is in her shorts and his fingers coax a sound out of her that makes the walls vibrate.

He laughs wildly and she snarls and they're tumbling onto the bed and clothes are a nuisance, but easily disposed of and now she can press her skin against his and they both moan.

He cups her small breasts and teases her nipples to hardness and she writhes and keens as his hips drag against hers and when he decides that he's tortured her enough, he pushes into her slow and careful.

Until he meets resistance.

If not for her legs around his waist in a crushing vice, he would have pulled out and stammered an apology or a curse, but Raphael will have none of that.

She flips them over then takes.

Blood is Holy.

Blood is Forgiveness.

Blood is Communion.

Balthazar chokes out a noise like he's the one in pain then his hands find her hips and they both know that this night is going to be one of bruises.

He rocks up into her like this is what she was made for and that's what he tells her.

He tell her how good she feels, how tight she is, how sweet the little noises she's making sound, and how all that he wanted to do was hold her down then defile her when he saw her in this vessel.

Her arms quiver and when then finally give out, Balthazar gently lies her down on her back then fucks into her slow and deep like they have all the time in the world to do just this, but he holds onto her like it would take Death himself to release her from his grasp.

When Raphael finally comes, her moans have fallen into soft sobs and her whole body tenses then just sinks into the mattress and Balthazar moans sharply then trembles as he fills a deep, secret place inside her.

He pulls out and Raphael aches, but it's a pleasant feeling.

She allows Balthazar to tuck her under his chin like she's something to be protected, but she is the one that wraps her arms around him and holds him close.
From: [identity profile] http://users.livejournal.com/_bluebells/
Stranger, I don't know who you are, but I think I'm in love with you. Everything about this was beautiful and wrenching; I absolutely adored it.
ext_236704: (SPN / wear the grudge like a crown)
From: [identity profile] ravenspear.livejournal.com

Oh my god, so lovely and yes and Raphael. Thank you! <3333
From: [identity profile] super-seme04.livejournal.com
I fell into your fic over the weekend and would have never left if not for the need to participate in basic, human interactions, but I can definitely say that I was inspired by you, so this is just my awkward way of saying thank you.
ext_3665: (Dogs and Mad Men)
From: [identity profile] zekkass.livejournal.com
The whippings are the crux of it. For all of his joy with the knives, for all Alastair finds of succubi and incubi to take him and be taken and make his skin feel dirty and ill-fitting (which it is, he's not human, he was never meant to be wedded to flesh as he is) and for all of the hurt, they come back to the whippings as the heart of it.

Alastair wants Michael to scream, and a lash across his back is the quickest way to the noise.


The key rattles in the lock, and Michael can barely move. It's half fear, half left-over injuries from the demon's last visit, and there is Lucifer laughing at him again. (Lucifer is always laughing these days, mad broken laughter)

"Angelos," Alastair says by way of greeting, and "Lord," to Lucifer. His grin splits his face in two as he puts gentle fingers over Michael's arms, prods at the old bruises there. "Another day, Michael. Mikhail. You really must tell me your name someday, so we can dispose of this translation nonsense." He hoists Michael over his shoulder and stands, heedless of Michael's soft cry of pain, and heedless of how fresh blood rises out of Michael's wounds.

It's a short walk from the Cage to the Rack, and Alastair starts with knives.

Knives, and a thing shaped like Dean Winchester.


The sex hurts. Michael closes his eyes and hopes that Alastair won't cut away his eyelids again. The Dean-thing's fingers are tight on his hips, and it tears him as it thrusts. He can feel skin ripping there, and the wet between his legs is nothing new.

Alastair is working on his hand, pulling skin back, watching Michael's body try to fix itself with angel-quick healing and Michael whimpers when Alastair cuts away the entire mass of poorly grown skin.

He isn't screaming yet.


"I'll make you a deal," Alastair whispers, voice as rough with amusement as always. "Get away from them for more than ten seconds and I'll spare the whip today."


Ten: Michael slips free, breaks kneecaps to bolt across the fleshy chamber, bare feet sliding on the blood coating the floor.

Nine: The Deanthing's smile is wide as it approaches him, and it is already hard, ready to plunge back into him.

Eight: He catches a glimpse of the face of one of his other attackers, and even though it's an illusion (it has to be), even though, even though - the face of Raphael twisted like that makes him stumble.

Seven: He whispers a prayer as he reaches a wall.

Six: He begs forgiveness and a chance for redemption and oh, god, let it stop -

Five: "Halfway there, angelos!"

Four: A brush of fingers against his arm.

Three: "I don't want you any more." Raphael whispers in his ear. Michael struggles to correct the voice in his mind, struggles to convince himself that this isn't his brother.

Two: Is he crying because it hurts as the Raphaelthing slides into him, or because he lost his chance, or because he knows that Raphael (the real Raphael) would never welcome him home, not when he's broken like this.

One: He curses God, and Alastair, and they are one and the same.


The whipping is the crux of it.

He is bound to a cross face-first, an awkward position but it's not as bad as Alastair's murmured 'are you ready?'

It's nowhere near as bad as the pain that lances through him with the first blow.

It's nothing like the pain of a whip that cuts down to bone.

It's nothing as painful as the knowledge that this is eternal, that he has been condemned to this Hell, this is his fate forever and ever amen.


Needless to say, Michael's faith is more of a burden than a blessing, and though it may undo him (for his entire being, all he is, even his name is bound up with God) entirely he will find a way to cast it away from him.


Lucifer is laughing as the key rattles in the lock, the Cage is cold under his cheek, and he is left with the promise of tomorrow ringing in his ears.
ext_236704: (Text / disturbing gruesome sick things)
From: [identity profile] ravenspear.livejournal.com

Um. Yes. I... will be in my bunk? Yep, definitely.


Date: 2011-10-18 07:25 am (UTC)
ext_3665: (A Mighty Goddess)
From: [identity profile] zekkass.livejournal.com
I am at once pleased that I can still bring the darkfic and kinda disturbed that I can bring it. XD; Thanks!
From: [identity profile] ladyknightanka.livejournal.com
I have no idea why, but Castiel refused to be sexy, so you get very weird oral sex that's, um, I don't know, it's just weird! I hope you like it, though. ♥


Adam smirks at him, a vicious twist of his lips that's not quite reminiscent of Dean, and Castiel doesn't know why he expected anything different, doesn't even think he wanted different, when Adam pins his body down by the wrists.

The boy dips his head low and catches Castiel by the mouth, biting down hard on his tongue. It's human inclination to limit yourself, to stop, no matter how fueled your intentions are by anger, before you hurt your fellow creature. Adam isn't very human anymore and a tangy burst of blood transfers between them, metallic enough that they should gag. Neither of them do.

Adam's hands – always fever hot now, after continuous exposure to archangel grace – tear at Jimmy Novak's shirt, buttons popping like bullets and toppling off the side of their motel room bed. Castiel is grateful that he never fastened the coat, for he would not want it damaged, but the thought is fickle and fades away when nails scratch gently over Jimmy's ribs, his nipples stinging at the abuse.

Adam unlatches their mouths and sucks in an impatient breath, oxygen still a necessity for him, before he buries his head into the crook of Castiel's shoulder, leaving imprints of teeth there, too, his fair hair tickling against the angel's stubble. Castile twines his fingers into the silky locks, pressing him closer, never pushing away, and he can almost feel Adam's familiar grin depress into his skin.

All too soon, Adam draws back. Castiel lets him, albeit wishing he didn't have to, because this is his repentance. Adam deserves this.

The human's long fingers dig into his trenchcoat's lapels, dragging Castiel into a standing position parallel him, before flipping the angel around so it's Adam with his back to the bed. He presses down on Castiel's shoulders till he kneels, then sits down himself, undoing the zip of his jeans. He wears nothing beneath them.

“Suck,” he says unnecessarily, crossing his arms in wait.

Castiel's eyes flit up to Adam's childish face, his wide blue eyes, paler in shade that his – Jimmy's – own. They used to reflect an innocence that neither Dean nor Sam – nor anyone but the few children Castiel had met on his journey – could lay claim to. Adam was a child himself, a child whose heart fluttered, Castiel knew from secret travels through his memory, whenever his prom date so much as smiled at him.

Adam is no longer that child. His cocked eyebrow resembles a second frown, his first far more severe, and Castiel thinks he must have learned it from Michael, because he succumbs to Adam's whims at once, wrapping his chapped lips around still more heat. Adam grunts, a primal sound that Castiel's grace swells in response to, the human's hands rough in his hair, tugging on curly strands as if they're reins to guide a particularly dimwitted horse.

The thrust of Adam's hips is also abrasive, the crown of his cock slamming back into Castiel's throat with no regard to whether he choked, and it doesn't take him long to finish. He immediately pulls away afterward, the petal pink blush of his cheeks floating away like actual fauna on the wind. With a bored expression, he re-situates his pants on narrow hips, then starts for the exit, sparing no look back.

Castiel remains on his knees, staring at nothing, but when Adam murmurs, “Cas,” he cranes his head. From the confident lift of Adam's shoulders, Castiel can tell he's smirking, without even the sight of his face. The nickname holds none of the exasperated fondness Dean had allocated to it. “Being abandoned, left high and dry... We'll have to have a heart-to-heart later. Maybe we can compare notes?”

Adam chuckle echoes in his wake and Castiel picks himself back up. He's not sure he can comply with Adam's request. After all, how can one have a 'heart-to-heart' when, for the first time, he understands the meaning of heartbreak?
ext_236704: (SPN / the night has opened my eyes)
From: [identity profile] ravenspear.livejournal.com
How did you know my secret love for Cas/Adam angst and heartbreak? How? :O

And asjkdhjajsdhafjh, delicious, messed up, sexy goodness. <3333333
From: [identity profile] ladyknightanka.livejournal.com
I'm obviously psychic. And I was in the mood to write angsty, screwed up sex. We all win! :D
From: [identity profile] http://users.livejournal.com/_bluebells/
Wow. I feel like we should go to confession (what have we DONE to you?), though I'm not repenting. This was fantastic.
From: [identity profile] ladyknightanka.livejournal.com
Maybe you should... Honestly, though, it's my Suits big bang. Mike and Harvey have kinky, bloody, non-romantic sex (I explained the situation to you) and I stopped mid scene right after they were done, so I'm still riding on the wave of their angst. It's fun, Blue, it's oh so fun. But don't worry, I can hop, skip and jump back to candy-land whenever I want; yours is actually a bit more lighthearted (maybe), ♥
From: [identity profile] nights-fang.livejournal.com
“You'll fail.”

Castiel is God, and he is not a fool. Crowley as useful as he is being the ruler of Hell under Castiel's thumb, won't hesitate to take the first chance to back stab him. And he will not take that chance. Will not allow weakness to creep up on him. And there is the question of disobedient angels and Raphael's followers too. He needs to make an example. One which Crowley would be useless in helping. He has a plan for both, to keep the demon in check, and a good punishment for errant angels. To show his power and authority without using it. That plan is Adam.

Adam would look no different from the day he fell into the Cage. He hides his scars, the madness in his eyes, the grace he carved out of Lucifer and Michael and made his own, with so much ease, that in itself is disturbing.

Once upon a time Castiel would've cared, bothered, lamented, perhaps even feared what the Cage has done to the youngest of the Winchester brothers; but that was when he was a mere angel. Now he is God, and even this unholy wretched creature has it's use in His new Kingdom.

He has a great use for Adam.

And to be honest he likes this wretched creature better. It's powerful, it does not need kindness like Dean and Sam Winchester do. It has no bonds to him like the Winchesters do. He does not need this creature to love him, he just needs obedience. And it will be obedient, will bow to him. Even if Castiel has to break it.

Adam's skin is scarred under his fingers, and he does not try to heal them away. Instead he digs his fingers into them until they bruise purple, until some open up and bleed, and he can feel the souls inside him escape through his fingertips to lap up the blood. Despite the beating he's taken he's yet to kneel to Castiel, but Castiel knows he wont last long.

He slams the boy into the wall face first, hand twisted behind his back. “Will you agree to the terms now?” he growls low into Adam's ear.

Adam laughs through the dust and mortar raining down on them. “That's a love tap. They did worse.”

Castiel slams Adam's head into the wall again, and the crack of bone echoes like a gunshot in the old warehouse. Castiel isn't surprised when he feels the broken bones and muscle reknit themselves immediately. They've been at this for hours. He's turned Adam's bones to dust, nearly bled him out, and still Adam has not once showed any signs of bowing.

“You will agree.” Castiel says.

“Not on your life angel.” Adam twists out of his grip, to attack but Castiel anticipates it and catches him by his throat slamming him back into the wall again.

Adam gasps, and his eyes roll backwards until all Castiel can see is the white of his eyes as blood trickles from his hairline into them. The souls inside Castiel hum in delight at the sight, and Castiel can see why. This thing does look beautiful like this, broken, bruised, cracked, and insane.

“Bow Adam.” He orders, leaning in.

Adam shudders something like a mewl caught in his throat, at the mention of his name. When his gaze lands on Castiel again, it's hooded. And Castiel does not expect the knee against his groin, pressing up hard and rubbing. Or the hand that comes to his chest resting over where Jimmy's heart is beating. The souls hum again, louder this time, forcing Castiel to rock into it, trying to reach out to the boy.

“I carved their grace out. I could carve your power out as well.” And his fingers dig into the fabric, skin, and even flesh at that. Castiel barely flinches at the first spark of dull pain. What Castiel is not prepared for is the spark of pleasure that accompanies it, the way the souls thrum and buzz inside him like static electricity, and the way blood pools down towards his groin.

Adam's smiling at the reaction. His eyes seem like they're glowing. “You like the thought of me trying.”

Castiel is God. And God does not react like this to petty taunts, but the souls thrum angrily at the thought of pulling away. And Adam's hands wind themselves into his hair, tugging him closer.

If that's how it is, he'll just use this to his advantage.
From: [identity profile] nights-fang.livejournal.com
Adam tastes like the space around black holes burnt by hell when Castiel kisses him, and he bites Castiel's lips and tongue. He rocks against Castiel's hips furiously while Castiel tears his clothes off, hands coming up to Castiel's biceps and sinking in like claws, while his legs wrap around Castiel's waist. There's no prep, no anything, Castiel just undoes his pants, and aligns himself at Adam's entrance and pushes in, and starts thrusting, despite the dryness. They both feel something give, and suddenly there's enough wetness for Castiel to thrust in smoothly.

And it feels good.

Castiel slams his hips against Adam's. He won't let Adam get the best of him. Not let this creature win. He tugs Adam's hair backwards, until Adam's neck and back are in a painful arc, thrusts harder into Adam.

“Ooh, the new God is kinky. Who'd thought? Propositioning his new hopeful Devil like this.” Adam's breath is caught between the words. Castiel can tell he's close.

That's when he stops.

Adam looks at him alarmed, annoyed, snarling. His fingers dig deeper into Castiel's arm, and his chest.

“Agree to the terms.”


“I can give you this.” Punctuated with a quick thrust. “And errant angels to correct.”

Adam's eyes shine with defiance as he rocks back, making a pleased sound when Castiel presses into him. But that sound quickly turns into a groan when Castiel tugs his head back again, coursing enough power through the boy to make it hurt.

“Bow.” he orders.

Adam looks like he's about to snarl, make some comment, but Castiel tugs harder making Adam's spine creak. Adam pauses, looks at him licking his dry lips, as if he's calculating something. Then, “Yes.”
Castiel rocks into him again, gently this time, pleased by Adam's decision. But Adam growls, and pushes himself down on Castiel hard, trying to get back to their harsh pace from earlier.

When Adam comes, he's loud, and he bites down into Castiel's shoulders marking it. Castiel's own orgasm is quieter, taking him by surprise and quelling the angry souls in him.

“You'll be rewarded for your loyalty.”

Adam slides down the remnants of the destroyed wall, running his fingers through his hair. When he finally looks back up, he smiles, sort of bored and defiant, as if he doesn't believe Castiel. But he accepts at the promise of angels to carve grace out off, delight dancing in his eyes.

“Sure angel. It'll be fun to carve your grace out once you fail.”

“God won't fail.”

“You will.” Adam smiles all teeth, and mad eyes. “You can resist temptation from me. You're bound to fail.”


When Castiel wakes up after falling asleep at the bottom of the reservoir, he's somewhere dark and cold. And Adam is above him fingers on his chest digging in, eyes shining with stolen grace.

“Told you you'd fail.”
From: [identity profile] nights-fang.livejournal.com
/scoops back up. No melting you! ♥

But I am glad you liked this. I've been meaning to write you dark Cas/Adam for ages.
From: [identity profile] nights-fang.livejournal.com
Dark!Adam is ridiculously fun and really easy for some scary reason to write. I propose we start a dark!Adam movement.
From: [identity profile] ladyknightanka.livejournal.com
Oh dark!Adam, my heart! I'd sin for you, bb!

Very beautiful, grungy, dark descriptions here, hon! I should not enjoy their fuckery or rough sex as much as I do... Alas.

From: [identity profile] nights-fang.livejournal.com
He is incredibly hot when he's crazy. Incredibly.

Their fuckery is so much fun though. It makes perfect sense to enjoy it.
From: [identity profile] theinsaneeraser.livejournal.com
Dean will never admit that this is his favorite part.

He will swat at him, tell him how much of a girl he is, or that he hopes he'd not going to be only of those clingy girls, but when he's pressed against Lucifer's side, his head places on his chest with fingers carding through his hair, it's the most at peace he's ever been. Well, that's not entirely true, but as of the last 12 years, yeah, it is. So he'll protest and grumble and throw a little fit, but when he's curled against the devil, he relaxes, calms, and finds that inner piece crap Sam is always jabbering about.

He knows this is more then sex, but he is best not to think of it.

"Dean." Lucifer whispers and he raises his head to look at at him. He knows this can't last, he knows Lucifer will take Sam, that he will have to trap Lucifer, or kill him.

"Yeah?" He asks, keeping his emotions from his face.

When Lucifer leans down and kisses him, he can't help but wonder if this is it, this is the last time he'll get to see him... the last time he'll feel like this. "I'm sorry." he whispers, barely audible, against his lips and Dean closes his eyes, acts like he didn't hear him. When he pulls away, it takes everything in Dean's power not to drag him back down, to make him stay. He just sits there and watches him leave, he watches Lucifer turn around and leans against the doorway, watch him, and then disappear into the shadows.

Love shouldn't hurt like this.