drabbles: Watchmen, SN, Suicide Kings
Mar. 11th, 2009 08:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tigriswolfLook at my shiny new icon! I had to delete my Ryan one to do it, but isn't he pretty?
Title: the sound of thunder heard remote
Fandom: “Supernatural”
Disclaimer: not my characters; just for fun. Title from Milton.
Warnings: spoilers for up to “Great Pumpkin”
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 270
Point of view: third
Sam is straightening up the room while Dean refills the tank when a crack of light reveals Uriel, still wearing the large black man.
“Samuel Winchester,” the angel says. Sam’s barely had time to glance up before Uriel is on him, hand burning his face.
He saw Uriel do this to demons. “No,” he whispers in shock, trying to shove the angel away, but Uriel is unmovable, his eyes merciless; moments pass and they fill with fear.
Uriel’s fingers dig into his skin, but nothing happens. Lilith and Samhain failed to kill him—so too, now, has an angel.
Sam reaches deep and throws the angel off him. Uriel goes down hard then springs back to his feet. “I am the Hand of God!” he roars.
Raising his hand, Sam reaches again, this time cementing Uriel in place.
“No!” Uriel shouts. “I am the Angel of the Sun!”
Sam ignores him. The power pools and flows, and he throws it at Uriel, pulling it back once it’s gripped the angel’s spirit.
Uriel screams and shudders; instead of black smoke, a bright light oozes from the vessel’s eyes and mouth. Sam pulls until nothing else comes out and then squeezes. He releases the vessel and the man falls.
Sam gasps and doubles over, chest heaving for breath. His head aches, but less than after Samhain. It’s getting easier.
He stares at the vessel. Holy fuck, he just killed an angel. But more than that—an angel failed to kill him.
The impala growls her way into the parking-lot and Sam grabs their bags, hurries out, slams the door behind him.
Title: Don't let your faces turn to stone
Fandom: Watchmen movieverse
Disclaimer: not my characters; just for fun. Title from Adrienne Rich.
Warnings: spoilers for movie
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 170
Point of view: third
Dan hisses, “Don’t even think about it,” to Jon and Adrian, but Rorschach knows he’s too dangerous to be kept alive. He will never compromise, will never subside.
Dan’s a good man, and Rorschach supposes Jon used to be. But Adrian—the smartest man in the world has gone mad with power, with his idealistic vision of a better world—at the expense of this one.
Rorschach will not let his vision pass unchallenged, and he’s already too late to stop the first part. But he will not stay silent—he will tell the world. Humans are corrupt and disgusting, but they must be given the chance to choose.
“Don’t even think about it,” Dan tells the god in man-skin and the greatest mind on Earth.
But Rorschach stalks into the tundra and knows Dr. Manhattan has already seen how this ends. Rorschach will never be silent, and so he cannot live.
Jon hesitates. Rorschach waits.
He has a moment to think, It doesn’t hurt and Comedian was right and—
Title: Beneath the lightning and the moon
Fandom: “Supernatural”
Disclaimer: not my characters; just for fun. Title from Coleridge.
Warnings: takes place early season four
Pairings: none stated
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 370
Point of view: third
Ruby waits till Dean is asleep before calling and telling Sam to meet her out front. She’s leaning against the car, and says, “Sam, that thing walking around isn’t your brother.”
Sam opens his mouth to argue, but she barrels on. “He came back wrong.”
Scoffing, Sam stares down at her. “What did you expect? He spent forty years in Hell.”
Ruby asks, “Forty years? Is that what he told you?” She looks away.
“What do you mean by that?” he demands. When she doesn’t answer, he says, “Ruby.”
She takes a deep breath. “No one just leaves Hell unmarked, Sam. He’s—” She pauses. “I’m old by your count, but in Hell I’m still an adolescent. They don’t care what I hear, so I heard a lot before I found you again.” She looks up at him. “I’m a demon. I know my kind when I see them, just like I know the enemy. And your brother…” She shudders. “He’s different. He’s wrong.”
Sam looks at her earnest, stolen face for a moment. “What do you see when you look at him?”
She lets out an explosive sigh. “He’s neither and both at the same time. Sam, that’s impossible.”
He chuckles. “Dean doesn’t do things half-assed.” Curious, he cants his head. “Ruby, what about when you look at me?”
She smiles, meeting his eyes. “You shine, Sam.” Then her expression hardens. “He’s dangerous. He’s not the man you knew.”
Sam straightens to his full height. “This is an order, Ruby, so listen well. You will not hurt Dean, or cause him to hurt. If you do, I will destroy you.”
She gapes up at him. “But he’s not Dean!” she hisses. “Weren’t you listening?”
He reaches down and grips her meatsuit’s chin. “The man sleeping in that room cannot be touched. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she mutters petulantly. He lets her go and turns around to go back to the room.
“Sam,” she calls. “Be careful.”
He doesn’t reply. Once he’s sitting on his bed, he looks over at his brother.
Demon and angel. Neither and both. His eyes flash golden and he thinks, What a pair we make, Dean. Chuckling, he flops onto his back.
Title: boots
Fandom: Suicide Kings
Disclaimer: not my characters; just for fun.
Warnings: spoilers for movie
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 55
Point of view: third
“Look, I’ll buy you another fuckin’ pair of boots if it’ll get you to shut up,” Charlie says.
“Aw, thanks, Charlie,” Lono says. “You’re the best.”
“Yeah, I know.” Charlie toasts him with the newly-fixed hand. “Fifteen hundred for fish-boots, though—that’s fuckin’ nuts.”
“I care about my footwear,” Lono shrugs, draining his drink down.
Title: You touched me in places so deep
Fandom: “Supernatural”
Disclaimer: not my characters; just for fun. Title from Adrienne Rich.
Warnings: spoilers for aired season four
Pairings: Alistair/Dean
Rating: R
Wordcount: 530
Point of view: third
“Bleed him dry,” Alistair purrs. “There’s a good boy.”
The knife slices into the soul’s mindflesh with ease, sinking through muscle, bone, and gristle, and coming out the other side a lovely shade of crimson. The soul screams, a pretty sound, and begs for mercy, for a shred of pity, for anything but more pain. Music. Alistair sways in time to the gasps his pet wrangles from the soul, and he laughs in pleasure when the soul finally quiets, voice spent.
“Well done,” he praises, taking the knife. “Let’s move on down the line, kiddo.”
He’s never had a student learn so quickly or delight in it as much as himself. He is Hell’s chief tormenter, the Executioner, the master and connoisseur of pain. Even his lord Lucifer would sometimes flinch back from the worktable, back when his lord was around.
And this boy, this newcomer to the Pit—he fought well, but beneath Alistair’s unending attention, he broke. Time has no meaning and Alistair had never bothered to count, but he thinks his pet lasted a very long time.
“Show me what you can do,” Alistair invites, slouching, hands in his pockets. They are the masters here; they can wear whatever form they want. So his pet’s appearance… Alistair studies as his boy goes to work. He’s wearing the clothes his earthly body died in, shredded and bloody, and always has blood splatters on his face, coating his hands. And his eyes—Alistair doesn’t know what color they were in life, but down here, where he is the swiftly-rising star, his eyes are always black.
Given enough time, Alistair muses, you could evolve, kiddo. You could become like me, like Lucifer—or more. Potential, pet: you’re drowning in it.
Alistair grins, eyes flashing bone-white. “Enough,” he calls. “Let’s get some lunch.”
His pet sheathes the knife and walks back to him, waiting. The boy is still so young, seeking praise, so Alistair caresses his face. “You’re a good boy, kiddo,” he says, licking his pet’s blood-soaked neck. He never uses his pet’s human name—the man he was does not matter here.
The boy curls into him, face upturned, eyes wide and mouth open. Alistair plants biting kisses onto his pet’s skin. “Beautiful,” he purrs. “My favorite, so beautiful.”
He places his hand on the boy’s left shoulder and wills it to burn. His pet sighs in pleasure. “My mark,” Alistair tells him. “All of Hell knows you’re mine.”
Smiling, his greatest student leans in to kiss his neck, whispering, “Lord, master, let me worship you.”
Alistair shoves the boy down and takes him, again and again and again, and finally sated, he offers his hand to help the boy up. “Hungry?” he asks.
His pet smiles, willing his clothes back to their previous condition, and his eyes are a shade lighter. Alistair grins and has to make his favorite of every Hellbound-soul bleed just a little more.
His pet—so beautiful, so sadistic, so much potential… “You could be the greatest,” Alistair says.
And his boy preens, purrs, presses in close, submits with pleasure when Alistair can’t resist taking him again.
They never do make it to lunch.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-12 02:44 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-12 02:56 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-12 03:23 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-12 03:55 am (UTC)Love the second one, Dean as both an angel and demon, and human too. Silly Ruby, you should know by now that Winchesters often do the impossible. Sam and Dean, they are indeed quite the pair, and that's why they'll be the ones to save the world. Neither side is expecting them.
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Date: 2009-03-12 05:45 am (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2009-03-12 02:49 pm (UTC)Love the SK one.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-12 02:58 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-12 07:27 pm (UTC):P
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Date: 2009-03-12 07:37 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2009-06-12 05:18 am (UTC)Just fantastic. This is my favorite line Potential, pet: you’re drowning in it. It just sounds so.. so sinfully evil and delicious. Nicely Done.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-12 04:47 pm (UTC)