Hosting Watchmen/Rorschach Kink Meme

[spam_monster]

Here it is-the Watchmen kink meme inspired by the endless Rorschach threads on /pco/!

Rules of the meme:

1. Anonymously post a pairing and prompt you would like to see written. Since this is a kink meme, there is supposted to be a kink involved, but normal well-written prompts should work just as well.

2. Anonymous will respond to your post and write

Comments

stars, part 30

[anonymous]

Dan knew that going over to the church would be crazy, the most insane thing he'd ever done, worse even than going out west alone as a clueless teenage boy. He also knew that if he was going to do it, he would have to do it immediately.

As quietly as possible, he slid first one foot and then the other onto the floor, watching over his shoulder the entire time for Walter's hypervigilant senses to spring into life. When they didn't he exhaled softly, trying to calm his messily colliding thoughts.

There couldn't be any other explanation. The way Pastor Veidt had reacted on July 4th, looking at Walter like he was a ghost--or should have been; the way he'd been avoiding the store ever since; the way he'd given that uncharacteristic sermon on guilt. The only question was why Dan hadn't seen it sooner.

Rising to dress, he promised himself more time for self-recrimination later.

It was still early, the entire town still asleep and the sun only beginning to warm the sky from beyond the long horizon. Although he had no idea what he was expecting from the meeting, Dan hoped the element of surprise would at least work to his favor.

His hope was dashed as soon as he drew nearer to the church and saw a lone figure in the adjoining churchyard. Of course, of course Pastor Veidt with never a hair out of place would already be awake this early. To expect less would be to expect less than absolute perfection.

Gently urging Archimedes into a slow approach, Dan fought down the encroaching feelings of how absurd this accusation was with the still-fresh image of the gruesome damage a bullet could wage on skin.

A row of lilac bushes shaded the six graves of their town's tiny cemetery. Adrian was bent underneath their glossy-leafed, spreading arms, tipping water from a wide basin to wet their roots. The plants had grown short and tough from the effects of dry wind, but their presence alone spoke of a great deal of attention from their caretaker. The blooms had already passed but their smell seemed to linger, sharply sweet.

He acknowledged Dan's approach with only a calm glance, not pausing in his work until he had poured out the last drops underneath a sturdy set of violet crepe myrtles in the church's shadow.

"Yes, Daniel? May I help you?"

Dan swallowed against the eerie placidity of thin branches swaying in the breeze and dismounted, his speech much more polite than he felt. "I'd like to talk with you."

"Of course." Setting the basin up against the wall in what must have been its precisely preappointed spot, Adrian motioned for Dan to join him before setting a slow and measured pace into the church.