Church Ficlets
Jun. 3rd, 2012 08:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tir_synniSo I went to the local church today for pretty much a writing exercise. Every ficlet is directly inspired by either the songs or the sermon from this morning. With everything that has been going on, my writing has been one of the main things tossed onto the back burner, and I feel like that's one of the main reasons I'm feeling so frustrated lately.
...that and some damned asshole is using both of the dryers. Fucking dick. Grrr.
So two are SPN and two are Bible. Regarding the Bible ficlets, I was also exploring the sexual connotations which feature so heavily in worship, as well as D/S. Song of Songs was not touched on as it was not part of the sermon. I have some other fics in progress, but these are just fun exercises, while the other fics actually involve beta'ing and the such. Enjoy, anyway?
Salvation
Midnight.
He knelt at the pew, hands clasped and lips lost in prayer. The church was empty, the only other soul the guard who wandered the grounds. The guard let him in. The guard knew naught of sin and cleansing, but he knew the man. He came enough.
When his wife’s pliant body could not sate him and his restlessness drove him from the marriage bed, he always came here.
Prayers poured from his mouth, all of his sin coming back up bitter and vile. He begged on his knees for forgiveness and salvation. His throat felt raw. His knees ached.
God’s presence filled the church and wrapped around him. He felt Him, felt exulted in Him, and threw his head back in rapture.
“Fill me with Your Holy Spirit,” he begged. His voice was a bare rasp. Sweat slid wet and hot down his body. He arched his back, raised his hands to God’s Glory, and it felt like his hands were caught and held there.
God’s power, all around him.
God, who commanded his people to kneel.
He felt the Holy Spirit fill him, and he screamed in ecstasy. He raised his voice in prayer and pleas and praise.
Strength all around him, only God strong enough to hold him and fill him. His presence filled the man, and he could only sob.
Kneel to God, his pastor preached, and he would not have to kneel to anyone else.
The moment passed, and he slumped, sweaty and exhausted, onto the pew.
Praise God.
Lightbringer
Every night Sam asked Dean to dance with him. Every night Dean told him no.
It was really the only ‘no’ Sam heard these days. Who said ‘no’ to the being who offered the world salvation, after all? As far as most of the world knew, the Messiah had come.
“They should have paid more attention to the passage about the antichrist,” Dean teased, and Sam would shut him up with a kiss.
Every night, the songs began.
“And if God is for us, who can stand against us?”
“Our God is greater, our God is stronger…”
“What God?” Dean scorned, and Sam shushed him.
All of this had ironically strengthened Sam’s faith. Hell had created an antichrist who helped bring about world peace, who had brought structure to both Earth and Hell.
Neither of them knew anything about Heaven.
“God was with us,” Sam insisted.
“Winchester stubbornness was enough,” Dean retorted.
Winchester love was enough, Dean believed, but they had enough chick flick moments. It almost went badly. They almost fell apart, and Dean always wondered -- silently -- if the world would have fallen apart, too. Winchester stubbornness -- Winchester love -- had saved them, had provided salvation.
Why would the antichrist and his brother looked to God and Heaven?
“I am captured by your beauty…Lord, I worship you.”
The nightly prayers began again. Always at night, as Sam had brought a great darkness before he had brought back the light and saved the world.
“Lightbringer,” a hunter had spat before Dean put a bullet between his eyes. He hated murder but he hated the comparison more.
“You’re more valuable than silver…you are lovelier by far…you are awesome…you are sovereign…”
“Dance?” Sam coaxed as they stood on top of the world.
Dean laughed. “Not tonight little brother.”
It was fine. Sam grinned at him. He had eternity to keep asking.
Holy, Holy
“You are holy, holy, holy!”
There was little that could make an archangel drunk. Fortunately, Gabriel knew expertly what that little was. He couldn’t see Michael drinking Norse brew, but he thought this could knock even him on his ass.
Michael could stand to be knocked on his ass. Get ol’ Mikey and Lucy drunk and lock them in that cage together.
Gabriel heard the prayers and songs and sometimes he hated them so much his meatsuit burned. He met an evangelist on the street that morning and heard him preaching. Two hours later, he was causing electrical shortages all up the east coast and the evangelist was babbling about the devil in a straitjacket.
Fuck Michael and Lucifer and God. Today, he was Loki, prankster of the North. Today, he drank the brew of the Norse gods. Today, he was merrily drunk.
He heard the prayers of the AntiChrist, the boy who would be Lucifer’s meat suit, and the irony made him drink more.
“Holy, holy, holy!” he screamed, and he wouldn’t remember who he was supposed to be anymore.
God was dead. His family was destroyed.
He drank more and sang and waited for the End to come.
Gabriel was dead. Loki sang on, the Trickster’s voice rising mocking and bitter to the sky.
“Holy, holy, holy…”
A Day in the Life
As soon as he woke up each morning, he knelt beside the bed, clasped his hands, and bowed his head. He prayed on his knees with his eyes closed. He prayed until the Holy Spirit filled him and took his breath away so he couldn’t pray anymore. Exhausted and spiritually sated, only then did he rise, make his bed, and start his day.
He used his shower to cleanse himself of the night’s sins and sweat. He prayed in the shower and praised his Lord as the water washed him clean.
He went through his day and did not fear. He walked through his day with his Lord’s commands at his back. When he had questions, he prayed, and he let his Lord make his decisions for him. His Lord’s manual rested in his briefcase for when he needed it.
At lunch, he pulled out his manual and pored over it. He prayed over his Bible and listened for his orders for the rest of the day. He could just let go, and that gave him the peace to smile at his coworkers for the rest of the day, even when their whispers grew loud enough to reach him at his desk.
Some people didn’t know the perfect peace and trust of knowing his Lord.
It carried him through his day until he was back home, at his dinner table, with his plate steaming in front of him. He bowed his head and clasped his hands and breathed, “I put my trust in you.”
He prayed and felt his Lord’s presence fill the room. He felt his Lord’s touch on him and didn’t move. His Lord’s strength held him still, and he felt rapture rise within him. He prayed and felt no fear as his Lord’s strength and power flowed around him.
He trusted in his Lord.
Within his Lord’s presence, filled with the Holy Spirit, he let himself go and let the rapture flow. As always, it took his breath away.
Only when he was released did he eat, peaceful and secure.
At night, he knelt beside his bed and prayed again. On his knees he gave himself and let his Lord flood him with His Grace.
His coworkers called him a fool, but after knowing this love and security, he could not imagine another way to live.
...that and some damned asshole is using both of the dryers. Fucking dick. Grrr.
So two are SPN and two are Bible. Regarding the Bible ficlets, I was also exploring the sexual connotations which feature so heavily in worship, as well as D/S. Song of Songs was not touched on as it was not part of the sermon. I have some other fics in progress, but these are just fun exercises, while the other fics actually involve beta'ing and the such. Enjoy, anyway?
Salvation
Midnight.
He knelt at the pew, hands clasped and lips lost in prayer. The church was empty, the only other soul the guard who wandered the grounds. The guard let him in. The guard knew naught of sin and cleansing, but he knew the man. He came enough.
When his wife’s pliant body could not sate him and his restlessness drove him from the marriage bed, he always came here.
Prayers poured from his mouth, all of his sin coming back up bitter and vile. He begged on his knees for forgiveness and salvation. His throat felt raw. His knees ached.
God’s presence filled the church and wrapped around him. He felt Him, felt exulted in Him, and threw his head back in rapture.
“Fill me with Your Holy Spirit,” he begged. His voice was a bare rasp. Sweat slid wet and hot down his body. He arched his back, raised his hands to God’s Glory, and it felt like his hands were caught and held there.
God’s power, all around him.
God, who commanded his people to kneel.
He felt the Holy Spirit fill him, and he screamed in ecstasy. He raised his voice in prayer and pleas and praise.
Strength all around him, only God strong enough to hold him and fill him. His presence filled the man, and he could only sob.
Kneel to God, his pastor preached, and he would not have to kneel to anyone else.
The moment passed, and he slumped, sweaty and exhausted, onto the pew.
Praise God.
Lightbringer
Every night Sam asked Dean to dance with him. Every night Dean told him no.
It was really the only ‘no’ Sam heard these days. Who said ‘no’ to the being who offered the world salvation, after all? As far as most of the world knew, the Messiah had come.
“They should have paid more attention to the passage about the antichrist,” Dean teased, and Sam would shut him up with a kiss.
Every night, the songs began.
“And if God is for us, who can stand against us?”
“Our God is greater, our God is stronger…”
“What God?” Dean scorned, and Sam shushed him.
All of this had ironically strengthened Sam’s faith. Hell had created an antichrist who helped bring about world peace, who had brought structure to both Earth and Hell.
Neither of them knew anything about Heaven.
“God was with us,” Sam insisted.
“Winchester stubbornness was enough,” Dean retorted.
Winchester love was enough, Dean believed, but they had enough chick flick moments. It almost went badly. They almost fell apart, and Dean always wondered -- silently -- if the world would have fallen apart, too. Winchester stubbornness -- Winchester love -- had saved them, had provided salvation.
Why would the antichrist and his brother looked to God and Heaven?
“I am captured by your beauty…Lord, I worship you.”
The nightly prayers began again. Always at night, as Sam had brought a great darkness before he had brought back the light and saved the world.
“Lightbringer,” a hunter had spat before Dean put a bullet between his eyes. He hated murder but he hated the comparison more.
“You’re more valuable than silver…you are lovelier by far…you are awesome…you are sovereign…”
“Dance?” Sam coaxed as they stood on top of the world.
Dean laughed. “Not tonight little brother.”
It was fine. Sam grinned at him. He had eternity to keep asking.
Holy, Holy
“You are holy, holy, holy!”
There was little that could make an archangel drunk. Fortunately, Gabriel knew expertly what that little was. He couldn’t see Michael drinking Norse brew, but he thought this could knock even him on his ass.
Michael could stand to be knocked on his ass. Get ol’ Mikey and Lucy drunk and lock them in that cage together.
Gabriel heard the prayers and songs and sometimes he hated them so much his meatsuit burned. He met an evangelist on the street that morning and heard him preaching. Two hours later, he was causing electrical shortages all up the east coast and the evangelist was babbling about the devil in a straitjacket.
Fuck Michael and Lucifer and God. Today, he was Loki, prankster of the North. Today, he drank the brew of the Norse gods. Today, he was merrily drunk.
He heard the prayers of the AntiChrist, the boy who would be Lucifer’s meat suit, and the irony made him drink more.
“Holy, holy, holy!” he screamed, and he wouldn’t remember who he was supposed to be anymore.
God was dead. His family was destroyed.
He drank more and sang and waited for the End to come.
Gabriel was dead. Loki sang on, the Trickster’s voice rising mocking and bitter to the sky.
“Holy, holy, holy…”
A Day in the Life
As soon as he woke up each morning, he knelt beside the bed, clasped his hands, and bowed his head. He prayed on his knees with his eyes closed. He prayed until the Holy Spirit filled him and took his breath away so he couldn’t pray anymore. Exhausted and spiritually sated, only then did he rise, make his bed, and start his day.
He used his shower to cleanse himself of the night’s sins and sweat. He prayed in the shower and praised his Lord as the water washed him clean.
He went through his day and did not fear. He walked through his day with his Lord’s commands at his back. When he had questions, he prayed, and he let his Lord make his decisions for him. His Lord’s manual rested in his briefcase for when he needed it.
At lunch, he pulled out his manual and pored over it. He prayed over his Bible and listened for his orders for the rest of the day. He could just let go, and that gave him the peace to smile at his coworkers for the rest of the day, even when their whispers grew loud enough to reach him at his desk.
Some people didn’t know the perfect peace and trust of knowing his Lord.
It carried him through his day until he was back home, at his dinner table, with his plate steaming in front of him. He bowed his head and clasped his hands and breathed, “I put my trust in you.”
He prayed and felt his Lord’s presence fill the room. He felt his Lord’s touch on him and didn’t move. His Lord’s strength held him still, and he felt rapture rise within him. He prayed and felt no fear as his Lord’s strength and power flowed around him.
He trusted in his Lord.
Within his Lord’s presence, filled with the Holy Spirit, he let himself go and let the rapture flow. As always, it took his breath away.
Only when he was released did he eat, peaceful and secure.
At night, he knelt beside his bed and prayed again. On his knees he gave himself and let his Lord flood him with His Grace.
His coworkers called him a fool, but after knowing this love and security, he could not imagine another way to live.
