crowroad: (Default)
[personal profile] crowroad
Title: Leaving Reno
Characters: Sam, Dean, Nevada
Tags/spoilers/warnings: outsider POV/weird POV; chains/cuffs, suggestion of; sin, suggestion of, conflation of sex/trauma; Wincest
Notes: for [livejournal.com profile] milly_gal 's fabulous art prompt!



Not much could contain their mischief. And I was built for sin. Pleasure dome. Prison-castle. Dun-geon. Whatever the passing-throughs wanted, these gamblers and their girls and their ghosts. But they weren't just passing-throughs, these. Not like the others, and there were some, that wanted--bloods and spoils, these chances, and each other.

*

Once I was more, more wanted. Made of desert--Ne-va-da, or hell, sage and silver and snow; said out loud, these, as reasons for being, for names. I was a place and then another place, over bones, animal, human; and bloods, human and earth, glittering. So the mirrors say, and that's sky.

*

Demons have been here. Miners and traders and law; cuffs.

But they chased a gambler's ghost through my skins, Sammy Sammy Sammy whose jangling was a coin, charged; unluck. The other gripped, callus-to-frame, bowed; ripped-blind and shredded-up-shag--and made me, made me again. A bed.

I think this place knows us, he said.

Dean!

*

Canyons of slots.

They ended in one of my basements.

Sex dungeon, the Dean said, knocked my brick, do ya want to?

I was closed. But what I was built for: proposition. After-palace-before-condo: sin. Pawn. And the passing-throughs; this.

Sam!

Coin-and-iron through skin, spike and heel; railroad, hell, this past. They chased a gambler’s ghost, six and a killer, black and jack, through my skins, torn-down-and-after—

not killed.

*

I was hell.

They built a fire. Put it out quick.

Shit, the Dean said, but this was a suite, freaking murderer's ghost.

After all the hells, the Sam said, and that was a quake, like a gasp.

They were cut-up, dripped; demolition. Whispering, water-than-dust.

Don't...

…hurt me.

Never.

Sounds, keys ; tongues and boards. Fingers fit, the ceiling said. And pulled.

*

Once I was more, more wanted.

Feed me, they said.

I don't know bodies as well--slot and tongue and arch; good bones. But they were painted, in the places they bound each other up. In hair.

Strip, said the Sammy-one, me.

Mirror: mouth to mark and wrist and unchained. Binding and unbinding is, I’ve heard,
cage and prison and mark. Said out loud, these, as reasons for being,

for names.

*

Not much can contain, maybe mountains. Those around.

Buildings do not. Or vaults. My next-doors, though, with people and passing-throughs; I have eyes. A safe. For once it was soft out and demons weren't, you’d think, or angels or killers or gambler's ghosts. Just bloody bed and Washoe wind their car kicked up, but--

brothers, silver and sage and what I was built for--

you'd be wrong.

From:
Anonymous( )Anonymous This account has disabled anonymous posting.
OpenID( )OpenID You can comment on this post while signed in with an account from many other sites, once you have confirmed your email address. Sign in using OpenID.
User
Account name:
Password:
If you don't have an account you can create one now.
Subject:
HTML doesn't work in the subject.

Message:

 
Links will be displayed as unclickable URLs to help prevent spam.

Profile

crowroad: (Default)
crowroad

May 2017

S M T W T F S
 1234 5 6
78 910 111213
141516 1718 1920
21222324252627
28293031   

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jul. 23rd, 2017 12:47 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios