Fic: Sins of the Son
Title: Sins of the Son
Author: villainxatxhert
Rating: NC-17 to be safe
Pairing: Priest/Black Hat
Word Count: 852
Warnings: some minor gore and sexual situations. VERY blasphemous... I need confession
Summary: This is how he started, but it's not how he's going to end. A retelling of the events before and during the movie Priest.
Author's Note: Came to me out of nowhere and demanded to be written. I will also say that they are not mine and that writing 'brother' so many times kinda squicked me. I get nothing from this except a sense of self satisfaction.
Everything he had, left behind because of the fact that he was better. Special. The Voice starts in his head, a wisp of smoke curling around him and murmuring into his ear. BetterbetterbetterbettergowithGod.
The Monsignors had come for him and for a brief moment nothing else mattered. His wife was gone from his mind, his daughter barely a thought. God and purpose swallows everything and spits out a man made for destruction and the slaughter of evil. In that moment the Church becomes his life, the Church becomes him and his name and identity fall away like ash so that only Priest remains.
It is not until he meets cool green eyes that he remembers something about life beyond his Vows.
He remembers Shannon; beautiful, caring, minemineminegowithGod.
He remembers Lucy; small, fragile, weakweakweakgowithGod.
It is his own soul that remains just beyond his grasp, butterfly wings beating against his brain before flitting out of grasp again. He fears to reach for it in fear of crushing himself in his own hands.
Those eyes laugh at him, lips against his ear as they whisper, giveingiveingiveingowithMe. And he listens.
***
His robes scratch against his skin, shoulder blades pressed against his own. Vampires scream around them and his blood sings in his veins. Nothing matters in that moment except for the gore on his skin and his brother at his back. His blades tear through sinew and bone, hot blood arching across his robes as he makes himself into a punishing hand of God.
Silence falls and his chest heaves as he draws in great gasps of breath. A hand falls on his shoulder and green eyes are alight with adrenaline and passion from behind a red painted face. Fire rises in his gut and the hand on his shoulder shifts to his neck, blunt fingernails biting into bare skin as he’s pulled down, down, down into burning green.
WrongwrongwronggowithGod the Voice whispers, but his brother’s perfectperfectperfectgowithMe breathed into his mouth drowns it out.
***
Dirty mattress below him and scalding touches above. His brother’s eyes pierce his very soul, digging through his thoughts and pulling things to the surface that he’s long forgotten. Fingers and lips trail fire across his skin, a baptism by flame while the Voice screams in his head, sinsinsinsingowithGod.
A mouth breathes new breath into him and his brother’s touch caresses him like the hands of the devil himself. He writhes, arches and cries out as he’s surrounded by velvet heat and the Voice rises like the tolling of the church bells, SINSINSIN, as it claws behind his eyes.
His brother’s Voice clambers over every other sound and hands clutch at his shoulders as this things mounts between them. His gaping mouth is captured again, “Jacob,” ghosted against his lips like a benediction. Something inside him snaps and he can’t remember whose name it is.
***
He let go.
His brother, his blood, his name had fallen. His past and future had been ripped from him by the soulless things they had been bred to kill. Those eyes had been terrified, pleading, and he let go. His Mission, his Vows no longer hold any real meaning for him. The Voice rises up again, almost triumphantly as it crows, deaddeaddeadgowithGod.
***
Lucy.
His heart stuttered and spoke, daughterbloodminegotoher.
The Voice coiled tighter, weakweakweakinfectedgowithGod.
His heart beat faster.
***
“You fell.”
Unholy yellow drowns out beautiful green and something inside him simply dies. He longs to reach out, to touch, to burn.
“You let go.” SinsinsinkillgowithGod.
Blown pupils track him as he shifts forward. SinsinkillkillgowithGod.
Tears stream down Lucy’s cheeks as he moves closer. SinkillkillkillgowithGod.
Pointed teeth appear in that devil’s smirk that had ensnared him so long ago. KillkillkillkillgowithGod.
Lucy is dead weight between them as his hand touches that smile. He wants to pull pieces off this abomination to keep for himself. He wants to go back to his city and his mundane death. He wants, he wants, he wants.
Those teeth move to tease against his throat and the Voice is silent.
His God speaks to him. “Mine, mine, mine, come with me.”
He tilts his head and crushes the body closer to him. Nothing else matters.
Not the boy that trusts him. Not the woman that thinks she’s in love with him. Not the daughter that doesn’t know him.
“Our father who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name.”
His Messiah shakes with silent mirth against him.
“Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done. On Earth as it is in Heaven.”
Fingers thread through his hair, tipping his head further.
“Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”
An arm slides around his waist and pulls him closer still, plastering them together is this blasphemous taboo.
“And lead us not into temptation,”
A hot tongue bathes his neck.
“But deliver us from evil.”
Teeth scrape playfully over his skin.
“For Thins is the kingdom, the power and the glory forever.”
Hi blood flows like the blood of Christ into Judas’ mouth and he smiles.
“Amen.”
Author: villainxatxhert
Rating: NC-17 to be safe
Pairing: Priest/Black Hat
Word Count: 852
Warnings: some minor gore and sexual situations. VERY blasphemous... I need confession
Summary: This is how he started, but it's not how he's going to end. A retelling of the events before and during the movie Priest.
Author's Note: Came to me out of nowhere and demanded to be written. I will also say that they are not mine and that writing 'brother' so many times kinda squicked me. I get nothing from this except a sense of self satisfaction.
Everything he had, left behind because of the fact that he was better. Special. The Voice starts in his head, a wisp of smoke curling around him and murmuring into his ear. BetterbetterbetterbettergowithGod.
The Monsignors had come for him and for a brief moment nothing else mattered. His wife was gone from his mind, his daughter barely a thought. God and purpose swallows everything and spits out a man made for destruction and the slaughter of evil. In that moment the Church becomes his life, the Church becomes him and his name and identity fall away like ash so that only Priest remains.
It is not until he meets cool green eyes that he remembers something about life beyond his Vows.
He remembers Shannon; beautiful, caring, minemineminegowithGod.
He remembers Lucy; small, fragile, weakweakweakgowithGod.
It is his own soul that remains just beyond his grasp, butterfly wings beating against his brain before flitting out of grasp again. He fears to reach for it in fear of crushing himself in his own hands.
Those eyes laugh at him, lips against his ear as they whisper, giveingiveingiveingowithMe. And he listens.
***
His robes scratch against his skin, shoulder blades pressed against his own. Vampires scream around them and his blood sings in his veins. Nothing matters in that moment except for the gore on his skin and his brother at his back. His blades tear through sinew and bone, hot blood arching across his robes as he makes himself into a punishing hand of God.
Silence falls and his chest heaves as he draws in great gasps of breath. A hand falls on his shoulder and green eyes are alight with adrenaline and passion from behind a red painted face. Fire rises in his gut and the hand on his shoulder shifts to his neck, blunt fingernails biting into bare skin as he’s pulled down, down, down into burning green.
WrongwrongwronggowithGod the Voice whispers, but his brother’s perfectperfectperfectgowithMe breathed into his mouth drowns it out.
***
Dirty mattress below him and scalding touches above. His brother’s eyes pierce his very soul, digging through his thoughts and pulling things to the surface that he’s long forgotten. Fingers and lips trail fire across his skin, a baptism by flame while the Voice screams in his head, sinsinsinsingowithGod.
A mouth breathes new breath into him and his brother’s touch caresses him like the hands of the devil himself. He writhes, arches and cries out as he’s surrounded by velvet heat and the Voice rises like the tolling of the church bells, SINSINSIN, as it claws behind his eyes.
His brother’s Voice clambers over every other sound and hands clutch at his shoulders as this things mounts between them. His gaping mouth is captured again, “Jacob,” ghosted against his lips like a benediction. Something inside him snaps and he can’t remember whose name it is.
***
He let go.
His brother, his blood, his name had fallen. His past and future had been ripped from him by the soulless things they had been bred to kill. Those eyes had been terrified, pleading, and he let go. His Mission, his Vows no longer hold any real meaning for him. The Voice rises up again, almost triumphantly as it crows, deaddeaddeadgowithGod.
***
Lucy.
His heart stuttered and spoke, daughterbloodminegotoher.
The Voice coiled tighter, weakweakweakinfectedgowithGod.
His heart beat faster.
***
“You fell.”
Unholy yellow drowns out beautiful green and something inside him simply dies. He longs to reach out, to touch, to burn.
“You let go.” SinsinsinkillgowithGod.
Blown pupils track him as he shifts forward. SinsinkillkillgowithGod.
Tears stream down Lucy’s cheeks as he moves closer. SinkillkillkillgowithGod.
Pointed teeth appear in that devil’s smirk that had ensnared him so long ago. KillkillkillkillgowithGod.
Lucy is dead weight between them as his hand touches that smile. He wants to pull pieces off this abomination to keep for himself. He wants to go back to his city and his mundane death. He wants, he wants, he wants.
Those teeth move to tease against his throat and the Voice is silent.
His God speaks to him. “Mine, mine, mine, come with me.”
He tilts his head and crushes the body closer to him. Nothing else matters.
Not the boy that trusts him. Not the woman that thinks she’s in love with him. Not the daughter that doesn’t know him.
“Our father who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name.”
His Messiah shakes with silent mirth against him.
“Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done. On Earth as it is in Heaven.”
Fingers thread through his hair, tipping his head further.
“Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”
An arm slides around his waist and pulls him closer still, plastering them together is this blasphemous taboo.
“And lead us not into temptation,”
A hot tongue bathes his neck.
“But deliver us from evil.”
Teeth scrape playfully over his skin.
“For Thins is the kingdom, the power and the glory forever.”
Hi blood flows like the blood of Christ into Judas’ mouth and he smiles.
“Amen.”