[JP] Defiant
[absit_omens used by request from her mun. Not binding on any current storyline, just-the way the voices were talking to me.]
He never did like that human.
She was trouble from the get-go. A stubborn, insubordinate, pain in the ass (God, it felt good to actually be able to say that) who followed the Winchesters around like a sad little puppy who didn’t belong. Dean Winchester was a broken doll, and at least Sam had some conviction, but this one? She seemed to be sold on the idea that love would save the day and that when he came down on Dean hard it was a detriment, rather than an asset. He was forced to play by the rules then-he couldn’t touch the Winchesters or any associated with them, including Ruby or Dean’s little whore. Now, however, that he wasn’t part of the team, now that he wasn’t playing by the rules any more, he could finally give in to that aching need to rip her throat out before she threw another ounce of disrespect, and he couldn’t stop himself from admitting that having that kind of freedom felt good.
He’d never actually admit it to the demon’s face, but Alloces may have actually done him a favor.
And now he was watching her, lounging lazily in a chair while she sat in front of him unconscious. He had been encouraged to-go out and play for a while, and though he knew that Alloces wasn’t specific as to where he should be playing, he knew that his favorite mud monkeys would be more than adequate toys for the occasion. This was going to be far from his first kill, but it was his first kill without orders, without the concern of whether or not it was the right choice, and when it came to her-oh, it most certainly was. If he didn’t like the way it felt later, well-it wasn’t as though it was any particular loss. So there was one less mud monkey in the world. They did worse to each other day in and day out. He was probably putting her out of her misery.
It didn’t take long for her to come to again, and as her green eyes came into focus, they met his shoes first, before rolling up to his face and meeting his eyes with a heavy glare, like a puppy trying to challenge a dragon. It was almost-cute, if Ur had been the type of demon to use the word ‘cute.’ She straightened her shoulders slightly, trying to make herself look imposing most likely, before actually speaking.
“Where am I?”
“Don’t worry,” he said, with the slightest hint of a smirk. “Nowhere where we’ll be found all that easily.”
She looked around for a moment, and he let her, amused as to what she thought she was going to find. After that, she turned back to him, the same amusingly determined look in her eyes. “Who are you?”
At that he raised an eyebrow. “What? You don’t recognize me? I might be hurt.” He pushed himself to his feet at this point, starting to circle her slowly, hands clasped behind his back. “I know that this meat is not nearly as-impressive-as my last vessel, but it can’t be all that different?”
There was a long pause, and as he turned the corner and came around to face her again, he could see the recognition in her eyes as she realized who she was talking to. “Uriel? That’s-impossible. Cas said you were dead.”
“Actually-it’s Ur now. They don’t exactly let you keep your angelic name when you go to the pit. And Castiel-” He’d always hated Dean’s absurd shortening of the angel’s name. “-only got half the story. A Fallen named Barbatos found a loophole-instead of Anna killing me, he had another Fallen named Alloces take my wings and cast me into Hell.”
It took her a few minutes to process the information, and as he did, he was sure he could spot the slightest flash of horror in her eyes. “So you’re a-”
“Demon?” he finished for her before nodding. “Oh, yes. I think it’s rather poetic, almost-I took their wings all those centuries ago, and in the end, they’re the ones who took mine.” He paused, before glancing over at her with a wide smile. “Funny how history repeats itself, doesn’t it?”
Her face hardened a bit, and she looked up at him, defiant, proud (pride was all of their downfalls in the end, really, it was only a matter of time) and bared her teeth in what could have been a snarl. “I’m not scared of you.”
“Oh, but you should be,” he said with a sneer, before coming down to face in front her, resting his hands on the arms of the chair she was tied to. “I don’t have rules anymore. I can do whatever I damn well please, and after I’m through with you? I’m going to finish what Alastair should have.”
“You lay a hand on him, I swear I’ll kill you.”
“Hmmm-that should be interesting, considering you’ll be dead as well,” he said, the sneer turning in to a smirk. “I can’t wait to get a hold of the world’s supposed ‘savior.’ I’d love to make him scream in pain, beg for his life the way he used to when he was down in the pit-”
Her mouth moved before he could realize, and the rage flooded through him when he felt the spit hit his face. His hands tightened around her wrists, to the point where he could feel the bones teetering just on the edge of snapping, but she didn’t give him anything, gritting her teeth against the pain. “Go back to Hell,” she said with a glare. “I’m not going to give you what you want, and neither will he. He’s coming for me, and when he does-”
“Oh, I don’t doubt he’ll come for you,” he replied, standing up after a moment before using the back of his hand to wipe the spit from his face-always so disrespectful. He then moved around her again, leaning over her shoulder. “The question is-what will be left for him to find?”
Oh, he was going to make her scream, alright. And God, was he going to enjoy it.
1051 words
He never did like that human.
She was trouble from the get-go. A stubborn, insubordinate, pain in the ass (God, it felt good to actually be able to say that) who followed the Winchesters around like a sad little puppy who didn’t belong. Dean Winchester was a broken doll, and at least Sam had some conviction, but this one? She seemed to be sold on the idea that love would save the day and that when he came down on Dean hard it was a detriment, rather than an asset. He was forced to play by the rules then-he couldn’t touch the Winchesters or any associated with them, including Ruby or Dean’s little whore. Now, however, that he wasn’t part of the team, now that he wasn’t playing by the rules any more, he could finally give in to that aching need to rip her throat out before she threw another ounce of disrespect, and he couldn’t stop himself from admitting that having that kind of freedom felt good.
He’d never actually admit it to the demon’s face, but Alloces may have actually done him a favor.
And now he was watching her, lounging lazily in a chair while she sat in front of him unconscious. He had been encouraged to-go out and play for a while, and though he knew that Alloces wasn’t specific as to where he should be playing, he knew that his favorite mud monkeys would be more than adequate toys for the occasion. This was going to be far from his first kill, but it was his first kill without orders, without the concern of whether or not it was the right choice, and when it came to her-oh, it most certainly was. If he didn’t like the way it felt later, well-it wasn’t as though it was any particular loss. So there was one less mud monkey in the world. They did worse to each other day in and day out. He was probably putting her out of her misery.
It didn’t take long for her to come to again, and as her green eyes came into focus, they met his shoes first, before rolling up to his face and meeting his eyes with a heavy glare, like a puppy trying to challenge a dragon. It was almost-cute, if Ur had been the type of demon to use the word ‘cute.’ She straightened her shoulders slightly, trying to make herself look imposing most likely, before actually speaking.
“Where am I?”
“Don’t worry,” he said, with the slightest hint of a smirk. “Nowhere where we’ll be found all that easily.”
She looked around for a moment, and he let her, amused as to what she thought she was going to find. After that, she turned back to him, the same amusingly determined look in her eyes. “Who are you?”
At that he raised an eyebrow. “What? You don’t recognize me? I might be hurt.” He pushed himself to his feet at this point, starting to circle her slowly, hands clasped behind his back. “I know that this meat is not nearly as-impressive-as my last vessel, but it can’t be all that different?”
There was a long pause, and as he turned the corner and came around to face her again, he could see the recognition in her eyes as she realized who she was talking to. “Uriel? That’s-impossible. Cas said you were dead.”
“Actually-it’s Ur now. They don’t exactly let you keep your angelic name when you go to the pit. And Castiel-” He’d always hated Dean’s absurd shortening of the angel’s name. “-only got half the story. A Fallen named Barbatos found a loophole-instead of Anna killing me, he had another Fallen named Alloces take my wings and cast me into Hell.”
It took her a few minutes to process the information, and as he did, he was sure he could spot the slightest flash of horror in her eyes. “So you’re a-”
“Demon?” he finished for her before nodding. “Oh, yes. I think it’s rather poetic, almost-I took their wings all those centuries ago, and in the end, they’re the ones who took mine.” He paused, before glancing over at her with a wide smile. “Funny how history repeats itself, doesn’t it?”
Her face hardened a bit, and she looked up at him, defiant, proud (pride was all of their downfalls in the end, really, it was only a matter of time) and bared her teeth in what could have been a snarl. “I’m not scared of you.”
“Oh, but you should be,” he said with a sneer, before coming down to face in front her, resting his hands on the arms of the chair she was tied to. “I don’t have rules anymore. I can do whatever I damn well please, and after I’m through with you? I’m going to finish what Alastair should have.”
“You lay a hand on him, I swear I’ll kill you.”
“Hmmm-that should be interesting, considering you’ll be dead as well,” he said, the sneer turning in to a smirk. “I can’t wait to get a hold of the world’s supposed ‘savior.’ I’d love to make him scream in pain, beg for his life the way he used to when he was down in the pit-”
Her mouth moved before he could realize, and the rage flooded through him when he felt the spit hit his face. His hands tightened around her wrists, to the point where he could feel the bones teetering just on the edge of snapping, but she didn’t give him anything, gritting her teeth against the pain. “Go back to Hell,” she said with a glare. “I’m not going to give you what you want, and neither will he. He’s coming for me, and when he does-”
“Oh, I don’t doubt he’ll come for you,” he replied, standing up after a moment before using the back of his hand to wipe the spit from his face-always so disrespectful. He then moved around her again, leaning over her shoulder. “The question is-what will be left for him to find?”
Oh, he was going to make her scream, alright. And God, was he going to enjoy it.
1051 words