candygramme (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
candygramme) wrote2013-06-19 02:16 pm
candygramme) wrote2013-06-19 02:16 pm
15 Lunatic Drabbles featuring bad guys from Supernatural (gen)
I recently took part in the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
spn_bigpretzel 'White Hats vs Black Hats' challenge. These drabbles were my contribution to the insanity
Rated: gen
None of these characters are mine, and they are immensely happy about that.
The Secret Life of a Hellhound
I will rip out your throat.
He sits, red eyes glaring, jaws slavering as he watches Crowley posture and preen. He’s been trained to obedience, but the obedience doesn’t sit well on him, and he’s restless, wanting to prowl, wanting to rend and tear. He yearns for the taste of blood.
Turn your back on me, old man, and I will crush your skull in my jaws.
Crowley dismisses his demon cohorts at last and turns to see him there. He smiles and snaps his fingers. “Hey, Fang, C’mere.”
Obedient, Fang approaches, and drools as Crowley pets him. Vengeance can wait til tomorrow. Tonight he’s having his tummy tickled.
Just Desserts
Dusk was falling at the end of the short, wintry day. The sun had long since descended from the sky, and only residual light showed the way as the dark stranger pushed open the door to the dentist's office.
"Can I help you, sir?" The usually perky receptionist sounded less than happy. She was ready to go home.
"I have a toothache. I need to see the dentist." The newcomer's voice was dark and rich, and somehow compelling, and without any further words the receptionist turned and headed into the surgery to speak with the dentist.
Taking a seat, the Alpha Vampire shuddered. Those schoolgirls he'd drained had been so sweet. He hoped this wouldn't mean an extraction.
Over and Above
It was December 22nd, and Crowley had just had what he was firmly convinced was his best ever idea. He'd dispatched one of his accolytes to hack into the email address that had been broadcast as being Santa's very own, and now, amidst gales of laughter, he was responding to the emails as they came in.
Dear, Santa:
I'm a good girl, and my mommy says that you can give me a present if I'm good enough, so can you send me a baby brother or sister?
love from Claire
Crowley smirked. Too easy! He bent to the keyboard to reply.
Dear Claire:
Send me your mommy and I'll do my best.
Love,
Santa.
Sabotage
Long before the world turned, and Western civilization spread across the earth with all its avarice and jealousy, Lucifer was still walking abroad, observing God's creation and arguing with his father about what he considered an infestation rather than a blessing to the beauty of the world.
He stood behind a Mayan craftsman, watching him hammer out an elaborate calendar carving it into stone and then moving to begin a new one.
Several years later, he returned to find that new calendar, now complete and removed it from existence with a click of his fingers. Grinning to himself he pictured the panic there would be in 2012...
Demons Lie
"Squirrel, all I need for you to do is go into the house and bring me that one little vase. It's not rocket science." Crowley's patience had been sorely tried. There were too many devils' traps and not enough worshippers these days.
"What makes you think I'm going to help you, Crowley?"
"Well I have something you'll be pleased to have back. You know, two wings, halo, that kind of thing. Yours if you get me the vase."
LATER...
"What the fuck is this, Crowley?" Dean studied the small black object he held in his hand.
"It's a Chinese telephone. You know... wing, wing...halo"
Death
Death had a hobby. Tessa tried her best to talk him out of it, and she rounded up a dozen or so other reapers who all sat around in a circle with him and tried to make him see how inappropriate he was being. They brought hot dogs, but he remained obdurate, even though they used the most expensive mustard.
"It is a pleasure I will allow myself."
"But you terrify the poor people," muttered Tessa.
"Would you begrudge me a little fun?" Death looked mournful.
"Just... Next time you go to someone's funeral, leave the hooded black cape and the scythe behind."
Incantation
The witch leaned forward and cackled madly. "Let me see... Eye of newt and wing of bat, the blood of an unbaptised infant and the hymen of a ravished virgin."
"Uh, excuse me?" The man with the notepad sounded confused. She smirked at him. "Throw in some venom of toad, if you have it, and make sure that it's fresh. It goes off you know."
The server studied the Biggerson's menu as if expecting to see the items on it. "Lady...?" he said, and the baffled look on his face should have won prizes.
"And I'll have the tiramisu for dessert," she announced.
Get Thee Behind Me
Lucifer was bored, so bored.
Sam was ignoring him completely again, and he just didn't seem to be able to tempt him, no matter how hard he tried. Now his victim was in the Winchester's motel room, sitting, brooding, and staring at the object of desire.
Lucifer seized his chance.
"Go on, you're strong. He wouldn't stand a chance against you."
Sam's eyes flickered towards him, but they were swiftly averted.
"Go on. You know you want it, so why don't you just take it. It's hot. It's juicy."
after a long, pregnant pause, Sam rose to his feet and reached out to grab Dean's pie.
A Suitable Case for Treatment
The psychiatrist gazed at the large, slightly overweight businessman who was currently lying back on his couch, itemizing his litany of complaints. The man certainly had father issues out the yin-yang. He frowned.
"Daddy was a control freak. He threw my big brother out, just because he didn't like dad's do-it-yourself project. I ask you, is that how a loving father should behave?" The man sniffed.
"Tell me about your mother," suggested the psychiatrist.
"I don't have one," was the reply. "Never had one." He brushed away a tear then he turned to look at the psychiatrist. "You know, in Heaven I have six wings and four faces, one of which is a lion."
Narcissistic delusions, scrawled the shrink on his pad. "Is that why you started to wear the pink tutu?" he asked.
The Unkindest Cut
Alastair had always considered himself to be the most skilled torturer ever to have wielded a scalpel. He had perfected the art of removing a human's skin in one piece and had been awarded the coveted Golden Lampshade award for his skill and artistry, but even he had to admit that Dean Winchester had outclassed him.
Striding through the sixth circle of hell, he peeked in at Dean, who was working on a shrieking victim and nodded in approval, even though he was resisting the urge to scream himself.
"No! Please! No more!"
The tethered victim was white and shaking as Dean pressed the button and the strains of "Baby, baby, baby" began to play for the gazillionth time.
Breakfast of Champions
Biggersons was busy when Dean and Sam entered the restaurant with young Jesse and took a seat to wait for their server. Coffee was swiftly brought, and they studied the menu as they waited to give their order.
The server was young and blonde, and when she came to their table it was obvious that Dean was about to hit on her. They flirted as they gave their orders, and then Dean elbowed Jesse. "What are you having, kiddo?" he asked.
Jesse's clear voice carried in the momentary lull. "I wish to devour the unborn," he said.
Every head clicked round to stare at him, and Dean cringed.
Sam grinned at the now quailing server. "Eggs. He'd like eggs."
Bad Crowley
Crowley smirked and then pulled out his phone and dialed a number he knew by heart. He was about to perform a gratuitous act of malice, and it made him all tingly.
"Hello?" Sheriff Mills' husky voice sounded as though she'd just woken up. The sound of a yawn echoed down the line.
"Hi, Jody," murmured Crowley. "It's Roderick. I was just calling to tell you that your ex is a really incredibly attractive man."
There was a moment's pause. "Who are you talking about?" she asked, confused.
"Me," smirked Crowley, cutting the line and slipping his phone back into his pocket. Heh. that was fun.
“…And On and On”
Balthazar was really distressed. His attempts to rid the world of Celine Dion had been something of a failure, and he was still having to listen to that voice. He considered it a fate worse than death. The woman had a vibrato like a Black and Decker two speed, and he regarded her as an invention of the Devil.
So when he had been summoned back to heaven to be punished for tampering with the space-time continuum, he'd merely smirked. At least heaven was a Celine-free environment. He was pretty sure that Crowley held a contract for her, and if he didn't, then he was no angel.
Condemned to sit in a white room for the next hundred years with nothing to listen to but angel radio, he sighed and turned it on. The music swelled, and he had a sinking feeling. The angel choir gave way to the lonely pipes and then...
Every night in my dreams I see you, I feel you...
Balthazar screamed. It was going to be a long century.
Ambition
Gordon opened his mail with eager, trembling hands. The brown envelope with the Open Learning Institute's logo along the top had to contain what he'd needed. He'd been working towards this for so long.
With bated breath, he extracted the sheet of paper and slowly unfolded it. Biting his lips, he read the words on the paper, and his heart thumped excitedly.
He'd done it! He'd passed his accounting exam with flying colors.
Now he could get that job with the IRS, and once he had it, he'd be assessing that Bobby Singer. He'd put the bite on him for sure this time and really suck him dry.
You Are What You Eat
Lenore was feeling grumpy. She was tired of cow's blood and thirsted for the fresh, delicious taste of real, live human. She'd considered raiding the local blood bank, and was now trying to talk her out of it.
She swore that the taste was totally different, and, honestly. if she consumed any more cattle, she'd start acting like a goddamned cow.
"Hey, boss." One of the other vampires stuck his head around the door where she was brooding in splendid isolation. "The Alpha Vampire is here to see you."
"Tell him to come back later," she snapped. "I'm not in the moooooooooood."
spn_bigpretzel 'White Hats vs Black Hats' challenge. These drabbles were my contribution to the insanityRated: gen
None of these characters are mine, and they are immensely happy about that.
The Secret Life of a Hellhound
I will rip out your throat.
He sits, red eyes glaring, jaws slavering as he watches Crowley posture and preen. He’s been trained to obedience, but the obedience doesn’t sit well on him, and he’s restless, wanting to prowl, wanting to rend and tear. He yearns for the taste of blood.
Turn your back on me, old man, and I will crush your skull in my jaws.
Crowley dismisses his demon cohorts at last and turns to see him there. He smiles and snaps his fingers. “Hey, Fang, C’mere.”
Obedient, Fang approaches, and drools as Crowley pets him. Vengeance can wait til tomorrow. Tonight he’s having his tummy tickled.
Just Desserts
Dusk was falling at the end of the short, wintry day. The sun had long since descended from the sky, and only residual light showed the way as the dark stranger pushed open the door to the dentist's office.
"Can I help you, sir?" The usually perky receptionist sounded less than happy. She was ready to go home.
"I have a toothache. I need to see the dentist." The newcomer's voice was dark and rich, and somehow compelling, and without any further words the receptionist turned and headed into the surgery to speak with the dentist.
Taking a seat, the Alpha Vampire shuddered. Those schoolgirls he'd drained had been so sweet. He hoped this wouldn't mean an extraction.
Over and Above
It was December 22nd, and Crowley had just had what he was firmly convinced was his best ever idea. He'd dispatched one of his accolytes to hack into the email address that had been broadcast as being Santa's very own, and now, amidst gales of laughter, he was responding to the emails as they came in.
Dear, Santa:
I'm a good girl, and my mommy says that you can give me a present if I'm good enough, so can you send me a baby brother or sister?
love from Claire
Crowley smirked. Too easy! He bent to the keyboard to reply.
Dear Claire:
Send me your mommy and I'll do my best.
Love,
Santa.
Sabotage
Long before the world turned, and Western civilization spread across the earth with all its avarice and jealousy, Lucifer was still walking abroad, observing God's creation and arguing with his father about what he considered an infestation rather than a blessing to the beauty of the world.
He stood behind a Mayan craftsman, watching him hammer out an elaborate calendar carving it into stone and then moving to begin a new one.
Several years later, he returned to find that new calendar, now complete and removed it from existence with a click of his fingers. Grinning to himself he pictured the panic there would be in 2012...
Demons Lie
"Squirrel, all I need for you to do is go into the house and bring me that one little vase. It's not rocket science." Crowley's patience had been sorely tried. There were too many devils' traps and not enough worshippers these days.
"What makes you think I'm going to help you, Crowley?"
"Well I have something you'll be pleased to have back. You know, two wings, halo, that kind of thing. Yours if you get me the vase."
LATER...
"What the fuck is this, Crowley?" Dean studied the small black object he held in his hand.
"It's a Chinese telephone. You know... wing, wing...halo"
Death
Death had a hobby. Tessa tried her best to talk him out of it, and she rounded up a dozen or so other reapers who all sat around in a circle with him and tried to make him see how inappropriate he was being. They brought hot dogs, but he remained obdurate, even though they used the most expensive mustard.
"It is a pleasure I will allow myself."
"But you terrify the poor people," muttered Tessa.
"Would you begrudge me a little fun?" Death looked mournful.
"Just... Next time you go to someone's funeral, leave the hooded black cape and the scythe behind."
Incantation
The witch leaned forward and cackled madly. "Let me see... Eye of newt and wing of bat, the blood of an unbaptised infant and the hymen of a ravished virgin."
"Uh, excuse me?" The man with the notepad sounded confused. She smirked at him. "Throw in some venom of toad, if you have it, and make sure that it's fresh. It goes off you know."
The server studied the Biggerson's menu as if expecting to see the items on it. "Lady...?" he said, and the baffled look on his face should have won prizes.
"And I'll have the tiramisu for dessert," she announced.
Get Thee Behind Me
Lucifer was bored, so bored.
Sam was ignoring him completely again, and he just didn't seem to be able to tempt him, no matter how hard he tried. Now his victim was in the Winchester's motel room, sitting, brooding, and staring at the object of desire.
Lucifer seized his chance.
"Go on, you're strong. He wouldn't stand a chance against you."
Sam's eyes flickered towards him, but they were swiftly averted.
"Go on. You know you want it, so why don't you just take it. It's hot. It's juicy."
after a long, pregnant pause, Sam rose to his feet and reached out to grab Dean's pie.
A Suitable Case for Treatment
The psychiatrist gazed at the large, slightly overweight businessman who was currently lying back on his couch, itemizing his litany of complaints. The man certainly had father issues out the yin-yang. He frowned.
"Daddy was a control freak. He threw my big brother out, just because he didn't like dad's do-it-yourself project. I ask you, is that how a loving father should behave?" The man sniffed.
"Tell me about your mother," suggested the psychiatrist.
"I don't have one," was the reply. "Never had one." He brushed away a tear then he turned to look at the psychiatrist. "You know, in Heaven I have six wings and four faces, one of which is a lion."
Narcissistic delusions, scrawled the shrink on his pad. "Is that why you started to wear the pink tutu?" he asked.
The Unkindest Cut
Alastair had always considered himself to be the most skilled torturer ever to have wielded a scalpel. He had perfected the art of removing a human's skin in one piece and had been awarded the coveted Golden Lampshade award for his skill and artistry, but even he had to admit that Dean Winchester had outclassed him.
Striding through the sixth circle of hell, he peeked in at Dean, who was working on a shrieking victim and nodded in approval, even though he was resisting the urge to scream himself.
"No! Please! No more!"
The tethered victim was white and shaking as Dean pressed the button and the strains of "Baby, baby, baby" began to play for the gazillionth time.
Breakfast of Champions
Biggersons was busy when Dean and Sam entered the restaurant with young Jesse and took a seat to wait for their server. Coffee was swiftly brought, and they studied the menu as they waited to give their order.
The server was young and blonde, and when she came to their table it was obvious that Dean was about to hit on her. They flirted as they gave their orders, and then Dean elbowed Jesse. "What are you having, kiddo?" he asked.
Jesse's clear voice carried in the momentary lull. "I wish to devour the unborn," he said.
Every head clicked round to stare at him, and Dean cringed.
Sam grinned at the now quailing server. "Eggs. He'd like eggs."
Bad Crowley
Crowley smirked and then pulled out his phone and dialed a number he knew by heart. He was about to perform a gratuitous act of malice, and it made him all tingly.
"Hello?" Sheriff Mills' husky voice sounded as though she'd just woken up. The sound of a yawn echoed down the line.
"Hi, Jody," murmured Crowley. "It's Roderick. I was just calling to tell you that your ex is a really incredibly attractive man."
There was a moment's pause. "Who are you talking about?" she asked, confused.
"Me," smirked Crowley, cutting the line and slipping his phone back into his pocket. Heh. that was fun.
“…And On and On”
Balthazar was really distressed. His attempts to rid the world of Celine Dion had been something of a failure, and he was still having to listen to that voice. He considered it a fate worse than death. The woman had a vibrato like a Black and Decker two speed, and he regarded her as an invention of the Devil.
So when he had been summoned back to heaven to be punished for tampering with the space-time continuum, he'd merely smirked. At least heaven was a Celine-free environment. He was pretty sure that Crowley held a contract for her, and if he didn't, then he was no angel.
Condemned to sit in a white room for the next hundred years with nothing to listen to but angel radio, he sighed and turned it on. The music swelled, and he had a sinking feeling. The angel choir gave way to the lonely pipes and then...
Every night in my dreams I see you, I feel you...
Balthazar screamed. It was going to be a long century.
Ambition
Gordon opened his mail with eager, trembling hands. The brown envelope with the Open Learning Institute's logo along the top had to contain what he'd needed. He'd been working towards this for so long.
With bated breath, he extracted the sheet of paper and slowly unfolded it. Biting his lips, he read the words on the paper, and his heart thumped excitedly.
He'd done it! He'd passed his accounting exam with flying colors.
Now he could get that job with the IRS, and once he had it, he'd be assessing that Bobby Singer. He'd put the bite on him for sure this time and really suck him dry.
You Are What You Eat
Lenore was feeling grumpy. She was tired of cow's blood and thirsted for the fresh, delicious taste of real, live human. She'd considered raiding the local blood bank, and was now trying to talk her out of it.
She swore that the taste was totally different, and, honestly. if she consumed any more cattle, she'd start acting like a goddamned cow.
"Hey, boss." One of the other vampires stuck his head around the door where she was brooding in splendid isolation. "The Alpha Vampire is here to see you."
"Tell him to come back later," she snapped. "I'm not in the moooooooooood."
no subject
I need an illustration for #9!!!
no subject
i'll have to do some digging...
no subject