blue_bells (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
blue_bells) wrote2011-02-13 12:39 am
blue_bells) wrote2011-02-13 12:39 am
Supernatural += It's angels versus demons in the backstreets (Meg/Castiel, Uriel, Ruby; PG-13; 750w)
» Title: It's angels versus demons in the backstreets
» Fandom: Supernatural
» Warnings: AU
» Pairing(s)/Characters: Meg/Castiel, Uriel, Ruby
» Summary: The one wherein angels and demons are gangsters guarding the lines between Michael and Lucifers' territories. They flirt, point guns, and taunt about whose boss takes it harder up the ass.
» A/N: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ravenspear who humoured me when I digressed into fantasy land of an all gangster!AU during talk of angels kicking ass and I accidentally wrote this.
Meg and Ruby are reclining on the hood of their slick, black Hummer when Uriel turns the corner to the border of Michael and Lucifer’s territory.
Castiel looks up from the leather binder in his hands as though he senses their proximity to those others. Uriel sees the hackles rise on his partner, straightening in his seat and eyes narrowed at these bleak back streets where rainwater runs off to the gutters, loose newspaper pages and autumn leaves catch at the sewer like foam and spittle at the corner of a cracked, parched mouth.
There are no people on these streets. No cars, no open windows, no life.
Nothing except for that black Hummer, shining like a freshly polished beetle under the high noon sun, guarding the entry to hell down that one alleyway.
Meg snaps her gum with a sharp grin when Uriel rolls the truck to a stop outside the entrance.
It looks like any other alleyway, but behind these buildings opens a yawning chasm to a sort of anarchy and lawlessness that consumes its denizens without hesitation or the chance for any last appeals.
The streets are silent when Meg pushes off the hood and strides up to the truck, heels clicking on the broken pavement. She’s leather, silk and hidden somewhere on her person is the death ready to spring to her hand that she’s become so famous for dealing.
Ruby doesn’t rise from her recline on the hood, stoic and watchful through reflective sheriff shades as Meg crosses her arms on Castiel’s window pane. There’s a weak breeze today and Uriel takes note of its strength and direction when it sweeps Ruby’s fringe across her forehead.
“Didn’t Mikey ever teach you to drive with the windows up, boys? You never know who might be jonesing for a shot at that chiselled jaw,” Meg puckers her lips and brushes Castiel’s chin with her thumb and forefinger, snickering when Castiel lifts out of her grip.
“Behaving yourself today, Meg?” Uriel rumbles, rings digging into the flesh of his fingers as his hand tightens subconsciously around the wheel, cautious; ready.
Meg’s attention flickers to him with a bright-eyed wonder.
“Word on the street is your boss let Lucifer in through the backdoor. Thoughts?”
Castiel smiles, slow and sinister.
“I’ve heard your boss can no longer lie because his throat bleeds from how hard Michael fucked his mouth,” He says.
Meg smiles, leaning up, and Uriel is sure she’s calculated the view she’s awarding his partner.
“You heard that, huh?”
“I’ve heard more,” Castiel says.
“Well, the next time you see righteous Mikey, ask him about the burn on his thighs. It may look something like this,” Meg jumps up on the door’s step and Uriel’s gun is pointed so fast, she’s barely swung around the charm hanging on the chain down her back.
Meg’s face-to-face with Castiel, who’s unfazed, but it could have something to do with the very large, wicked blade he’s flicked from his sleeve under her throat.
Meg glances between the two angels and starts to laugh. Uriel realises Ruby’s materialised to a safe distance from his truck and she’s trained her own gun on Uriel through the window’s gap, expression stony.
Meg thumbs the silver charm and holds it up for Castiel to see. It’s an effigy of a ram, or perhaps a goat, with lancing horns and hollow pitted eyes.
“Daddy lets us watch. Do you get to watch, Clarence?” Meg smiles, eyes heavy lidded and she’s close enough to kiss Castiel, despite the knife now pressing to her throat. Blood beads down her neck, curving over her collarbone and disappears beneath her blouse.
Ruby and Uriel are unflinching. Uriel’s attention flickers back to Ruby when her hair is picked up by the wind, and he’s seen enough of the other woman to know she could hold her own in this standoff, unmoving for as long as he.
He could almost enjoy this.
Meg lets the charm drop back around her neck and swipes a finger through the thin trail of blood Castiel’s made for her. She presses it to her lips, presses that finger to Castiel’s mouth and jumps back from the truck with a smile.
Ruby’s gun is still on Uriel when Meg passes a hand across her partner's stomach on her stroll back to the car.
“Always a pleasure, boys,” Meg calls back and Ruby finally untenses, ceasefire recalled.
Uriel notes Castiel’s lips are still red when they return to headquarters.
» Fandom: Supernatural
» Warnings: AU
» Pairing(s)/Characters: Meg/Castiel, Uriel, Ruby
» Summary: The one wherein angels and demons are gangsters guarding the lines between Michael and Lucifers' territories. They flirt, point guns, and taunt about whose boss takes it harder up the ass.
» A/N: Written for
ravenspear who humoured me when I digressed into fantasy land of an all gangster!AU during talk of angels kicking ass and I accidentally wrote this.Meg and Ruby are reclining on the hood of their slick, black Hummer when Uriel turns the corner to the border of Michael and Lucifer’s territory.
Castiel looks up from the leather binder in his hands as though he senses their proximity to those others. Uriel sees the hackles rise on his partner, straightening in his seat and eyes narrowed at these bleak back streets where rainwater runs off to the gutters, loose newspaper pages and autumn leaves catch at the sewer like foam and spittle at the corner of a cracked, parched mouth.
There are no people on these streets. No cars, no open windows, no life.
Nothing except for that black Hummer, shining like a freshly polished beetle under the high noon sun, guarding the entry to hell down that one alleyway.
Meg snaps her gum with a sharp grin when Uriel rolls the truck to a stop outside the entrance.
It looks like any other alleyway, but behind these buildings opens a yawning chasm to a sort of anarchy and lawlessness that consumes its denizens without hesitation or the chance for any last appeals.
The streets are silent when Meg pushes off the hood and strides up to the truck, heels clicking on the broken pavement. She’s leather, silk and hidden somewhere on her person is the death ready to spring to her hand that she’s become so famous for dealing.
Ruby doesn’t rise from her recline on the hood, stoic and watchful through reflective sheriff shades as Meg crosses her arms on Castiel’s window pane. There’s a weak breeze today and Uriel takes note of its strength and direction when it sweeps Ruby’s fringe across her forehead.
“Didn’t Mikey ever teach you to drive with the windows up, boys? You never know who might be jonesing for a shot at that chiselled jaw,” Meg puckers her lips and brushes Castiel’s chin with her thumb and forefinger, snickering when Castiel lifts out of her grip.
“Behaving yourself today, Meg?” Uriel rumbles, rings digging into the flesh of his fingers as his hand tightens subconsciously around the wheel, cautious; ready.
Meg’s attention flickers to him with a bright-eyed wonder.
“Word on the street is your boss let Lucifer in through the backdoor. Thoughts?”
Castiel smiles, slow and sinister.
“I’ve heard your boss can no longer lie because his throat bleeds from how hard Michael fucked his mouth,” He says.
Meg smiles, leaning up, and Uriel is sure she’s calculated the view she’s awarding his partner.
“You heard that, huh?”
“I’ve heard more,” Castiel says.
“Well, the next time you see righteous Mikey, ask him about the burn on his thighs. It may look something like this,” Meg jumps up on the door’s step and Uriel’s gun is pointed so fast, she’s barely swung around the charm hanging on the chain down her back.
Meg’s face-to-face with Castiel, who’s unfazed, but it could have something to do with the very large, wicked blade he’s flicked from his sleeve under her throat.
Meg glances between the two angels and starts to laugh. Uriel realises Ruby’s materialised to a safe distance from his truck and she’s trained her own gun on Uriel through the window’s gap, expression stony.
Meg thumbs the silver charm and holds it up for Castiel to see. It’s an effigy of a ram, or perhaps a goat, with lancing horns and hollow pitted eyes.
“Daddy lets us watch. Do you get to watch, Clarence?” Meg smiles, eyes heavy lidded and she’s close enough to kiss Castiel, despite the knife now pressing to her throat. Blood beads down her neck, curving over her collarbone and disappears beneath her blouse.
Ruby and Uriel are unflinching. Uriel’s attention flickers back to Ruby when her hair is picked up by the wind, and he’s seen enough of the other woman to know she could hold her own in this standoff, unmoving for as long as he.
He could almost enjoy this.
Meg lets the charm drop back around her neck and swipes a finger through the thin trail of blood Castiel’s made for her. She presses it to her lips, presses that finger to Castiel’s mouth and jumps back from the truck with a smile.
Ruby’s gun is still on Uriel when Meg passes a hand across her partner's stomach on her stroll back to the car.
“Always a pleasure, boys,” Meg calls back and Ruby finally untenses, ceasefire recalled.
Uriel notes Castiel’s lips are still red when they return to headquarters.
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