dragonyphoenix

Title: Goblin Market
Fandom: BtVS
Summary: There is something only the goblins can give Drusilla, but she must pay a fair price.
Note: Written for Open on Sunday's prompt: market
Rating: PG-13? Nothing graphic but I think it's disturbing
Characters: Drusilla and a child
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, not yet, but they will be … once I've taken over the world. Bwah-ha-ha!

Title:
Rating: G
Setting: S8
Summary/Prompt: Written for the 2013 Halloween Challenge over at SB Fag Ends. Lacrimosa's The Way of the Shadow: hemlock
Note: I'm hoping this counts as Spuffy. I'm trying to suggest that Dru has seen that Spike loves Buffy. It's a moment I adore, when Dru knows Spike is leaving her but Spike doesn't yet have a clue.

Dru, who had been pouting all night, squirmed as Spike wrapped her in his arms. “Come on, luv. Tell me what's wrong.”

She pulled away and ran into the waves. Her feet were bare and her dress soaked up to the knees. “No,” she called back. “You're going to drink hemlock for her. You never drank poison for me.”

"Come back in, pet, and we'll find some poison before the sun rises. I'll drink as much as you want.”

“The little death was mine, but the pyre, the sacrifice, the burning flame, that's hers.”

“Flame? I thought you said I drank … .” Spike rubbed a hand through his hair. “Fire and water, that it? Is this more of that alchemical nonsense?”

“Fire and water. You and me. You shall burn and I? Drown in the sea, where fishies will eat me and guard me from flame.” She fell backward into the waves and Spike squatted down to wait, hoping she'd come back out before the sun rose. He didn't fancy having to drag her back to the house.

Put it in the oven and mark it with 'D' and bake that cake for baby and me. The red words were so bright against the eggshell white of the walls that they almost seemed to be shouting. Drusilla had some vague thought that it should be 'B' rather than 'D' but that didn't make any sense at all. Death began with the letter 'D'.

Mark it with 'D'. Drusilla's hands were still red, wet enough to mark the girl, the one who had taught her the rhyme. “Where are you?” Drusilla didn't let on that she knew where the girl was even though she could hear the rat-a-tat-tat of a heart pounding on the other side of the closet door: it was fun to play little games with children. Mark it with 'D' and bake that cake. The words seemed to be a command.

Bake that cake. It didn't make any sense. Getting the child into the oven would be very difficult. All the pans would have to be taken out. And afterward the girl wouldn't be edible at all. Bake that cake. The words were quite insistent. Drusilla supposed she'd have to obey.

Title: Red Death's Mask
Fandom: BtVS
Rating: Mature
Character: Dru
Concrit: Please, in Comments
Disclaimer: They aren’t mine, not yet, but they will be… once I’ve taken over the world. Bwah-ha-ha!
Prompt: mask as something that conceals and/or reveals
Word Count: 100

Death had worn red to the Masque, and so, beneath her golden mask, Drusilla wore a gown as red as flowing blood. Dancing past fantasies and chimeras and untold desires, Drusilla drank in the carnage to come: the coppery tang that would fill the air when fingernails slit through necks; fangs piercing skin; the sharp snap of leg-bones and then the poor puppies, fantasies no longer, overcoming their agony to drag themselves away as she, stepping slowly between, would pick them off one-by-one.

Beneath her mask was a human face but beneath that was Death, and Death enjoyed the anticipation.

Title: Falling from Darkness to Light
Fandom: BtVS
Summary: The moment when Dru realizes that Spike loves Buffy.
Rating: PG?
Concrit: Please, in comments
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, not yet, but they will be... once I've taken over the world! Bwah-ha-ha
Note: Written for a prompt at Open on Sunday: fall

She filled his heart like a vast dark hole stretching across the place where his soul had been, but it wasn't hers any longer. She'd been watching for months. Something new grew in his heart, which was also in her since she was his heart. It was all very confusing.

Light, in his heart was a tiny spark of light. The light bloomed into a star, a rose, a love. It was the Slayer, and she'd stolen his heart. Drusilla screamed in terror as the ground opened beneath her feet, leaving her nothing solid, nothing to stand on. She fell.

Title: Suicide's a Sin
Fandom: BtVS
Characters: Angelus/Darla, Dru
Rating: PG
Concrit: Please, in comments
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, not yet, but they will be... once I've taken over the world! Bwah-ha-ha
Note: Can you tell I've just started reading Milton's Paradise Lost?

Note: Written for a prompt at Open on Sunday – nest – but not posted there because it's too long.

Word Count: 361

After he'd killed her family, she'd run to an uncle. That family had died as well, and then a set of cousins. Angelus had been surprised when yet another cousin had taken her in, but her family's fortune had been incentive enough it seemed. After that family had screamed long enough to suit his needs, Angelus found Drusilla in the drawing room, backed up into a corner, holding a fire poker like a weapon. He swatted it out of her hands, toying with her the way a cat might toy with a mouse. “What's this now, the third nest you've found to hide yourself in since your sweet sisters died at my hands?” He shook his head slowly from side-to-side. “Haven't you learned yet that you can't hide from me? Who do you think will take you in this time?”

He waited to see if she would respond, but she kept her thoughts to herself. That wouldn't do; that wouldn't do at all. “No one,” he told her. He squatted down across from her. “What do you think you'll have to do to survive the streets?”

“I'll die.”

“Ah, but suicide's a sin. God will send you to Hell, or perhaps he already has.” He looked at her as if he cared about her answer. “Do you remember killing yourself? Do you recall how it felt when God cast you down into the lake of fire?” When he brushed his hand down her neck, she gasped. “My fingers, do they feel like flames against your skin?”

Hours later, when he rose and left her there, Darla was waiting in the street. “What about her?” she asked in a bored voice.

“I want to see what she'll do next.”

“They'll lock her away in Bedlam,” Darla predicted, “and you'll never get near her again.

Angelus picked Darla up and swung her around. “No, my pretty one, that they won't do. She's strong, that one is. You'll see.”

Darla, her feet firmly back on the ground, pushed him away. “Strong enough to escape you then.”

All her resistance melted away as he crushed her to him. “No one's strong enough to escape me.”

untitled: prompt of seashell over at Open on Sunday
Fandom: BtVS
Characters: Dru/Spike
Rating: G
Concrit: Please, in comments
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, not yet, but they will be... once I've taken over the world! Bwah-ha-ha
Word Count: 100

For over a hundred years, every time Dru shivered, Spike was there, putting his jacket around her shoulders. She'd never noticed until the night he didn't.

The night wasn't even cold. It had been a shiver of premonition. The tide was going out, exposing the barren expanse of the beach.

His cigarette hissed as it hit the waves. She hissed too, but he didn't hear.

She picked up a seashell and held it to her ear but couldn't make out the voices. It didn't matter. She could see in how he'd changed toward her.

The tide was carrying him away.

Title: The First of Her White Dresses
Fandom: BtVS
Characters: Spike/Dru
Rating: G
Concrit: Please, in comments
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, not yet, but they will be... once I've taken over the world! Bwah-ha-ha
Note: Written for a prompt at Open on Sunday: white - but not posted there because it's more than a hundred words.
Word Count: 231

He waited just outside the door, chain-smoking cigarettes in the dark, the night she came home in the first of the white dresses. The speech he'd been reviewing – where have you been, you shouldn't run off without me – fell to the ground with his cigarette. “What the bloody hell is this then? White? Lace? The innocent look doesn't suit, Dru.”

Her hand trembled and he wrapped his dark coat around her. “Sorry, pet. I was worried is all. I didn't know where you'd gotten to.” He held her until the tremblings stopped and tried to pretend he hadn't felt them.

“It's not innocence,” she told him. “White is temporary: as quick as a lightning flash, or like the moon in the sky, waxing and then waning away, or even like the sun's feeble light overwhelmed by the dark that stretches out forever.”

He hugged her more tightly to him. “You're not temporary, love. You're eternal, you are.”

She patted at his cheek. “Not me, silly. It speaks in symbols. I had to show it that I am vast and dark and unstoppable, and that it is nothing more than a mere flash of light.”

“I'm afraid I don't understand, love.”

Her hand stared trembling again. “The disease,” she said. “I had to show it that I'm stronger, or it'd never leave me alive.”

Title: Tiny Suns in the Dark
Fandom: BtVS
Characters/Pairing: Spike/Dru
Rating: G
Concrit: Please, in comments
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, not yet, but the will be once I've taken over the world. Bwah-ha-ha.
Warnings/Squicks: None in this section
Note: Written for a prompt at Open on Sunday: fireworks
Word Count: 262

Whenever she saw fireworks, Dru wanted sparklers, those little fireballs that shot off vamp-killing sparks. He tried to keep her away from major celebrations, but it was hard to keep track of what country would be doing what when.

“They're like little suns. I never get to see the sun anymore, Spike.”

“And they're just as dangerous as the sun, pet.” He took the sparkler away and tossed it to the ground. When she started to whine, he tried to placate her. “How about a nice toddler, one who's been out in the sun all day? You can drink down the sunshine.”

“I don't want sunshine. It gets caught in my gullet and makes my eyes bleed.” She started scratching at her face, her sharp nails cutting into the skin.

Spike grabbed her wrists, pushed her arms down, and drew her in close, shushing her as she whimpered against him. “You're all right, pet. Everything's fine, my love.”

As three children, each carrying sparklers, ran by, Dru followed with her eyes. “Oh so pretty. May I have them please?”

“Dru,” he said, the reprimand clear in his voice. “You know they'll burn you.”

“Not the shiny suns, I want the little ones. Please?”

“All right.” Spike let her go. “But you leave those little firebombs alone, got me?”

“Of course, my Spike.”

As she chased after the children, Spike followed behind. No matter how many promises she made, he didn't trust her word. He knew she couldn't resist the sparklers.

Two stories based on Open on Sunday's prompt of wind. The first is untitled.
Fandom: BtVS
Characters: Drusilla, Angelus, Darla
Rating: PG-13ish
Disclaimer: They’re not mine, but they will be, once I’ve taken over the world. Bwah-ha-ha.

She'd only been dead twenty years, that night she'd stood atop a cliff, looking out to sea, her hair whipped about by the wind, Medusa-like, snakes trapped by gravity, stuck to the earth, but she wasn't, she was an “Angel.”

Solid, standing there by Gradmama, her Daddy turned at her word. As Grandmama held her hat to her head, blonde strands flying out from underneath the bonnet, Drusilla laughed. He'd thought she'd meant him.

“No, I'm the angel,” she cried out, racing off the cliff, and then past the cliff, spreading her wings to catch the night air.

Title: Fallen at the Cold Cliff's Side

“Drusilla, no.” Angelus raced after, as if he could catch her, stopping just short of the cliff's edge.

“Drusilla, no,” Darla called out in mockery as he peered over the edge, trying, but failing Darla was sure, to spot Drusilla. “Home,” she'd added after he'd stepped back.

“We can't just leave her there.”

He couldn't be too upset, not if he hadn't slipped back into that Irish brogue she'd trained him out of. “She'll find us, sooner or later.”

He started walking toward the path that would take him down the cliff. “Are you coming or not?”

“Not.” But he could be a real bastard when crossed. “There will be food waiting,” she offered. His smirk told her that he knew what she meant. Not that the blood would heal Drusilla, which was obvious, but that she'd be amusing herself while she waited.

Fandom: BtVS
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: They’re not mine, but they will be, once I’ve taken over the world. Bwah-ha-ha.
Note: I wrote this a while back and just found it while going through some paperwork. It was written for the prompt of doorway, probably over at Open On Sunday

Like wolves in a fairy-tale, they huffed and puffed against the house, prowling in the darkness, planning their attack. Drusilla could feel them. But she also felt God's divine presence: His strength pouring through the walls until they were as sturdy as the stones of a castle; His grace warding the door to keep the demons at bay. She was so caught up in her prayers, thanking God for his continued protection against such a great evil, that the knock on the door and the soft words went unnoticed until her sister's polite invitation hit Drusilla like a battering ram.

Title: Treasure
Fandom: BtVS
Pairing: Dru/Spike
Rating: PG-13 for death
Summary: Dru will keep her treasure safe, even if it kills him.

“Oh no Spike, not that one.” Pulling the man out of Spike’s reach, Dru added, “He’s my treasure. Once we are home, I will keep him very, very safe.”

“Um, pet,” Spike said over the man’s screams. “You do recall that you aren’t very good at keeping things alive.”

“Oh.” Dru’s expression grew quite serious. “I know just the thing. Come along.” Dragging the man by the arm, she ran off into the night until she found an open grave. Pointing down at the coffin she said, “There. I’ll put all my golden doubloons into that chest and bury it where no one will ever look. Then he’ll be as safe as houses.”

Tossing the man into the coffin, she kicked the lid shut. As he tried to push it open, she leaped down into the grave. The bones in his hand gave a small snap as the coffin slammed down again. Responding to Dru’s playful pout, Spike filled in the grave until the muted screams were silenced by the dirt.

Title: Holiday Cheer
Fandom: BtVS
Characters: Spike/Dru
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Suggests death of a family
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, not yet, but the will be once I've taken over the world. Bwah-ha-ha.

( winter )

Title: On the Eve of Destruction
Fandom: BtVS
Characters/Pairing: Spike, Dru, Angelus
Rating: G
Concrit: Please, in comments
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, not yet, but the will be once I've taken over the world. Bwah-ha-ha.
Note: Written for a prompt at Open On Sunday: eve
Summary: Visions aren't helpful if you can't change things.

Drusilla screamed. “Gypsies watching. Daddy betrayed. His soul looms. Love is found, but I am lost.”

“The soul?” Angelus shook Drusilla. “What have you seen?”

“The gypsy waits.”

“Where?”

She couldn’t name the motel, but she could describe it.

After Daddy had left, Spike’s voice drove the visions away. “Betrayed?” Her hands darted after, grasping for tendrils of memory, but the dreams slipped through her fingers.

Months later, after she’d left him, staying in South America while he drove north, Drusilla tried to explain. “I’m the one who was betrayed. If you hadn’t driven Daddy away, you’d still love me.”

Fandom: BtVS
Characters: Spike/Dru
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Suggests death of a child
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, not yet, but the will be once I've taken over the world. Bwah-ha-ha.

( fairytale )

Title: Windows to the Soul
Fandom: BtVS
Characters/Pairing: Drusilla
Rating: PG-13
Concrit: Please, in comments
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, not yet, but the will be once I've taken over the world. Bwah-ha-ha.

( '“They say eyes are windows to the soul. Do you believe that?' )

Title: With the Wine Pooling at My Feet
Fandom: BtVS
Characters/Pairing: Dru/Spike
Rating: G
Concrit: Please, in comments
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, not yet, but the will be once I've taken over the world. Bwah-ha-ha.
Notes: Written for a prompt at Open on Sunday: wine

Calmed by the cool darkness of the wine cellar, Drusilla let her hand drift before the bottles until she’d found the perfect one. Searching, she found Spike staring into the night. “The wine has gone flat,” she offered.

He didn’t turn to her. “Can get more.”

Her thoughts turned to those heady days, just after he’d been Turned, when William had pledged his undying love. “My passion for you is like a fine, rare wine,” he’d told her.

Glass shattered against the floor. The wine splashed against her, pooling at her feet. “Don’t bother. This particular bottle can’t be replaced.”

Notes: Written for a prompt at Open on Sunday: ten

“You’d think a Watcher would be harder to catch. I mean, come on, working out of a school library?”

As Drusilla was wracked by coughs, Spike flew to her side, holding her hand until she’d stilled. Spike turned toward Giles. “That’s where you come in. Dru is sick, some sort of mystical disease. Cure her.”

Giles knew he shouldn’t say it. “And I would help you, why?”

With a flash, Spike grabbed his hand. “Such agile fingers must be very useful to a scholar.” There was a gentle snap. Through a blur of pain, Giles heard, “Ooops, only nine now.”

Title: What Shall It Profit a Man?
Fandom: BtVS
Characters: Dru
Word Count: 155
Note: Written for a prompt at Open on Sunday (join) but not posted there because not 100 words.

The Abbess sat so that the light through the window fell onto her head like a halo, giving her the appearance of divine grace. “What draws you to the convent?” She knew the answer. That most brutal murder, almost the whole family dead, had become the talk of the town.

Drusilla flinched as if the question would draw the weight of the wicked world down upon her. “I’m looking for peace.”

A less mercenary woman would have told Drusilla, the sole heir of her father’s business, she couldn’t hide in the convent. “I’m sure you’ll find peace here.” Unnerved by the look on Drusilla’s face, like that of a solemn child who had found evil in a most unexpected place, the Abbess sent Drusilla off to get settled in. The convent would get Drusilla’s inheritance, should she choose to become a nun, and Drusilla would find the safety she so desperately needed. Everyone would benefit.

Title: Suited to Her Needs
Fandom: BtVS
Characters/Pairing: Dru/(Spike)
Rating: Worksafe
Concrit: Please, in comments
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, not yet, but the will be once I've taken over the world. Bwah-ha-ha.
Notes: Drabble written for a prompt at Open On Sunday: strip

Balanced on the seesaw with neither end touching the ground, Drusilla stared upwards, shifting from her vamp face, watching isolated atoms whirling in a cold, stark universe, to her human face, seeing a drama full of vengeance, love, death, and torment. She was amazed each and every time by how her true face stripped the world of passion. Musing on how Spike could still love her, even while showing his true face, the face that tore illusions away, Drusilla decided that he must wear his human face too often, but she’d never tell him that. His fantasies suited her needs.

Profile

dragonyphoenix

February 2023

S	M	T	W	T	F	S
			1	2	3	4
5	6	7	8	9	10	11
12	13	14	15	16	17	18
19	20	21	22	23	24	25
26	27	28

Syndicate

Page Summary

Style Credit

Style: Pink Panther for Lefty by sarken

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags

Page generated May. 23rd, 2025 09:29 am

Entries tagged with drusilla

Navigation

Fic: Goblin Market

Fic: And would you drink poison for me?

Fic: Mark It With 'D'

Fic: Red Death's Mask

Fic: Falling from Darkness to Light

Fic: Suicide's a Sin

Fic: seashell prompt

Fic: The First of Her White Dresses

Fic: Tiny Suns in the Dark

Fic: two based on the prompt of wind

Fic: prompt -> doorway

Fic: Treasure

Fic: Holiday Cheer

Fic: On the Eve of Destruction

Fic: Fairytale

Fic: Windows to the Soul

Fic: With the Wine Pooling at My Feet

Fic: Ten

Fic: What Shall It Profit a Man?

Fic: Suited to Her Needs