a_pretty_fire: (ill met by moonlight)
(Based on roleplay with the wonderful [livejournal.com profile] swanseer at [livejournal.com profile] realityshifted.)

Drusilla was just like Goldilocks. She didn’t have the right hair and she couldn’t abide porridge, but the stories ... oh, yes. She always got the stories right.

Too hot, too cold and just right. )

Prompt: "We are alone, you and I. How unusual."
Word Count: 1,592
a_pretty_fire: (ill met by moonlight)
Chile was a popular destination for vampires. It didn’t have the vibrancy of Brazil or the history of Peru, but it had an ample supply of shadowy old buildings and pretty little flower girls. William – who was either twenty four years or six months old, depending on how you wanted to measure age – had been sired during a holiday trip to Santiago, and now aimed to make sure that his ‘mother’ enjoyed everything the country had to offer.

It wasn’t an easy task. Drusilla was petulant and unpredictable, and she certainly wasn’t a patient teacher. William had no idea what sort of shoes he had been made to fill, but the older vampire made it painfully clear that he would never really succeed.

He wished he didn’t love her so much, but everything had changed when she’d lured him into a quiet alleyway behind an even quieter hotel. What else did he have now?

Drusilla was currently seated in the centre of a room in an abandoned warehouse, sprawled elegantly across a white divan with her crimson dress spread out around her like a drop of blood in a saucer of milk. She seemed to be in a good mood, although William wasn't entirely sure why. She'd spent most of last night teasing him for his mediocre blood lust.

She seemed to be ... waiting for something.

He wasn't entirely surprised when there was a bang on the door.

"There's somebody outside. Pet."

He didn’t understand why Drusilla was so fond of being called ‘pet’, but following it up with a ‘princess’ was a sure fire way of getting an invitation into her bed, so the young vampire said it as much as possible. Today, however, she snapped her head up, quick as a snake, to stare straight past him and fix her gaze on the door.

“It’s Grandmummy, come to see her little Drusilla,” she breathed, dark eyes shining, “We shall have satin and fine dresses and crumpets for tea.”

She stopped suddenly, sniffing the air.

“And she brings the Angel beast with her. She’s full of him.”

She glanced at the vampire hovering uncertainly at her side.

“Run away, little boy. This isn’t a game for you to play.” )

Prompt: Mother's Love
Word Count: 940
a_pretty_fire: (everything withers and dies)
I asked them to stop, once. I was just a little girl. I had a heart beating in my chest and mud on my petticoats and I thought I could shape the world if I just wished hard enough. If wishes were fishes we’d live in the sea. I’d like to swim in a sea like that. I didn’t know that the pixies wouldn’t listen. The pictures aren’t just in my head, they’re part of my head. Filling me up. There’d be nothing left if you took them away, just skin and bones and horrible science.

But I didn’t know that. I didn’t know. )

Prompt: “Would you please get out of my head?”
Word Count: 507
a_pretty_fire: (you're all new again)
They went underground. It wasn’t difficult in a city like LA. People disappeared there everyday and Darla was nothing if not resourceful. She was newly sired, but she felt as ancient and invigorated as ever.

Or she had felt like that. She currently ached all over, her skin – which had been as smooth and white as stone for centuries – marred by burns and her clothes stained with dirt. She was now more determined than ever. They would hide and they would heal and then they would get Angelus back.

All she needed was time, and vampires had plenty of that. If they were careful.

She woke up to find Drusilla mopping her brow with a square of ragged lace. )

Prompt: "Skin is a covering for our immortality."
Word Count: 899
a_pretty_fire: (wicked)
She was a hard girl to track down, his Drusilla, but it wasn’t impossible.

After leaving Sunnydale for the second time, Spike made his way back to South America. She probably hadn’t stuck around after their spat, but a love struck vampire needed to start somewhere, didn’t he? Besides, a girl like Dru was bound to leave signs. He’d spent over a century in her company, and he knew damn well what to look for. He knew what she liked.

He knew what she liked.

In fact, he knew it so well that he’d vowed to tie her up and torture her until she loved him again. It was only a matter of time before he was back in the arms of his black goddess. )

Prompt: "I'll just torture her 'til she likes me again."
Word Count: 914
a_pretty_fire: (daddy's back)

Angelus let go of the priest with a dull thump. He couldn’t believe it. It was her. His little Saint. He reached out towards the grating, and he could almost feel her pulse beneath his fingertips. He could feel her breath, certainly, coming in frightened little puffs as she murmured her supplications.

Despite the vast number of churches in the city, she’d managed to walk into his.

If he’d been a younger and more impressionable vampire, he’d have put it down to fate. )

Prompt: won't go to heaven / she's just another lost soul, about to be mine / she was taken / and then forsaken / give your soul to me / for eternity -- 'Inside the Fire', Disturbed
Word Count: 996
a_pretty_fire: (human)
Little Anne was born in the spring, the time of new life and fresh starts. Flowers bloomed wherever she walked. She was Persephone and Isis and Maia. She was dryad and nymph and woodland spirit. Her clothes always smelt of lavender, because she scattered dried flowers between the layers in her trunk. Her fingers were stained red from strawberry picking, and, whenever she returned to the house from one of her walks, her hair and clothes were covered in burdocks and other clever little seeds. They couldn’t let such a wonderful girl pass without clinging on and trying to become a part of her. She was everyone’s favourite.

Drusilla was born in the autumn, in the in-between time. It was too busy to be winter and too quiet to be summer. The world hovered on the edge of things, unsure which way to fall, and Drusilla lived her life in the same way. Poised between good and evil, between summer and winter, between childhood and adulthood. It didn’t matter. Anne loved her. Anne – who was everything that was good in the world – picked posies for her elder sister, and they sang special songs which nobody else could understand.

Then the Beast came. )

Prompt: 'Ancient Eyes' Picture Prompt
Word Count: 1298
a_pretty_fire: (killer)
Drusilla has always wanted a daughter. Or another sister. Maybe the girl can be both, she hasn’t decided yet?

She doesn’t need to, either. Vampiric families don’t work like that. Darla is more than her grandmother. Spike has never been a son alone. And how could anyone try to label her dear bad daddy?

There’s no need to get caught up in details. )

Prompt: ‘Different’
Word Count: 517
a_pretty_fire: (completely mad)
It was the night before Christmas and all through the house not a creature was stirring. Not even a mouse. Not even the owners.

(There had been a knock at the door while they were putting out a carrot for Rudolph, and, although none of the assembled adults remembered inviting ‘cousin Drusilla’ to spend the night, they’d invited her inside without really thinking about it.)

“You didn’t get a present for Princess.” )

Prompt: “At Christmas play and make good cheer, for Christmas comes but once a year.”
Word Count: 593
a_pretty_fire: (vision)
Winifred Burkle was used to being watched. She often felt Knox’s eyes on the back of her head as she worked in the lab. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but it wasn’t as nice as the moments when she became aware of Wesley’s gaze. Not that she was sure he was actually watching her. Every time she looked up, he turned back to the book in front of him, or the apparently serious conversation he was having with Angel. Maybe she was imagining things. Or maybe she was imagining that she was imagining things …

Either way, this was different. For a start, she was being watched by a woman. Not that she had a problem with that, of course, but it was kind of weird when it was a woman she’d never actually met before.

“Can I help you?” )

Prompt: "Nobody likes the bringer of bad news."
Word Count: 965
a_pretty_fire: (you're all new again)
“Sometimes I think I’ll disappear. I’ll forget to breathe, and then I’ll be swallowed up into nothing.”

“Drusilla, you’re dead,” said Darla tartly, “You don’t need to breathe.” )

Prompt: “I am merely a mirage, a shimmering ghost in the heat. I am made of nothing but smoke and mirrors.”
Word Count: 588
a_pretty_fire: (covered with her)
Spike and the Slayer were fighting.

Cat and mouse, lion and mouse, tiger and mouse. Her Spike was going to rip the Slayer’s lungs out. Tear her heart straight from her chest and give it to Drusilla. A present for Princess. They’d been allies once, the Slayer and Spike. Just for a little while. But Spike knew who he was. Who he was, and where he stood.

The Slayer was the enemy.


The Slayer was kissing him?

The Slayer was kissing Spike and Spike wasn’t pushing her away. Spike wasn’t even biting her tongue off.

Spike was kissing her back. Kissing the Slayer. Kissing and kissing and falling to the ground and ...

... and Drusilla woke up with a start. )

Prompt: “You do not choose the life you will experience ahead of time.”
Word Count: 665


a_pretty_fire: (Default)

April 2012

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