Prompt 190 - gentrification
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tamingthemuseTitle: A Ruler Without a Kingdom
Author: Guardian Erin
Rating: PG
Fandom: Angel: After the Fall
Pairing: Spike/Illyria
Disclaimer: I do not own
Summary: Illyria does sleep.
Illyria held a clump of something green and stringy in her hand, letting the strands move between her fingers. It reminded her of the intestines of a glyhm bird, but this was lighter, dotted with little pustules that were pockets of gas.
She was contemplating tasting the strange mass when she heard her pet return to the grand chamber.
"Love, you've been playing with the seaweed for an hour," he told her, approaching her slowly.
It angered her somewhat that he addressed her and came close to her in a familiar way. None of her subjects would ever dare do that, but she was suitably pleased by his caution. The kelp made a splat when it landed on the temple floor. Her ice-cracked eyes watched Spike carefully as he came closer.
His feet and chest were bare, and a silver-colored collar went around his neck, as it should. She could not get him to look afraid of her, however, although he was easy to anger. It didn't take her long to realize that the same things that made Spike hate her made him love her. She should never have permitted him to spend the night in her bed so many days ago. She should have kept him in his place on the floor as she had many times before. Illyria enjoyed keeping her pet close at hand, but waking up to find Spike turned so close to her, she couldn't abide it.
Even now, looking at her pet, there was a softness in his eyes that warned her that he thought of nothing less than being allowed close to her again. It was repulsive how instead of distaste at the very idea, Illyria found herself curious. And not just curious in the sense that she wanted to see what Spike looked like underneath, if she peeled back the skin to see how it all worked underneath. She was still a little curious about that, actually, but now she was more interested in him and his emotions. He was a warrior completely controlled by his emotions, like a sail that could not escape a whirlwind. She'd never seen a creature that could be so totally claimed by its feelings.
Yet here he was, a mixture of hurt and mystification every time he saw her.
"At least it keeps you happy," Spike finally murmured, giving her a strange look. "Reminds you of your squidgy days?"
Illyria lifted her chain. "The very sight of this world, of these foreign limbs is a constant vexation," she said, and then paused. "And yet I find myself impossibly becoming more accustomed to this place."
Spike twitched an eyebrow, biting his lip for a moment to keep from smirking. "Growing on you, then."
"No," Illyria responded immediately. "I am becoming resigned to this shell. To this lesser version of myself. It is unacceptable and yet.... If I could destroy this world to become my true self again, it would be done. But it can never be done."
"Somebody beat you to it," Spike commented, referring to the smoldering wreckage of the city. "We should be out there, keeping the good fight alive."
"It is not of my concern," Illyria denied.
"Kind of is once you sign up for being a good guy," Spike reminded her. "I get that it's demon eat demon, but it ain't exactly gentrification happening down there. We should fight."
"For what end?"
"Saving people," Spike said. "Maybe getting minions," he added. "In case you didn't notice it's sort of lonely around here."
"I have all I require."
"Cute, love," Spike smirked this time. "Can't be your love slave forever, though."
"You are my pet," Illyria asserted, taking a threatening step forward, and stopping abruptly when Spike touched her shoulders lightly, attempting to calm her down.
"Right, your pet," Spike agreed, knowing there was no arguing with her. The best he could do was keep his titan happy. "How about you an' me go on a little field trip? We can find things for you to dismember. I know you love dismembering things."
"I'll bring back the pelt of a foe," Illyria decided, smiling.
"That's my girl," Spike praised.
A noise woke the blue demoness from her sleep. She sat upright immediately, her hair in slight disarray. It took a few seconds for her to conclude that it was the quiet chiming of a clock that had broken her dream. She clawed Wesley's couch for a moment, then looked at Spike, who for once was not following her with a clipboard.
"So you do sleep," Spike commented simply.
Author: Guardian Erin
Rating: PG
Fandom: Angel: After the Fall
Pairing: Spike/Illyria
Disclaimer: I do not own
Summary: Illyria does sleep.
Illyria held a clump of something green and stringy in her hand, letting the strands move between her fingers. It reminded her of the intestines of a glyhm bird, but this was lighter, dotted with little pustules that were pockets of gas.
She was contemplating tasting the strange mass when she heard her pet return to the grand chamber.
"Love, you've been playing with the seaweed for an hour," he told her, approaching her slowly.
It angered her somewhat that he addressed her and came close to her in a familiar way. None of her subjects would ever dare do that, but she was suitably pleased by his caution. The kelp made a splat when it landed on the temple floor. Her ice-cracked eyes watched Spike carefully as he came closer.
His feet and chest were bare, and a silver-colored collar went around his neck, as it should. She could not get him to look afraid of her, however, although he was easy to anger. It didn't take her long to realize that the same things that made Spike hate her made him love her. She should never have permitted him to spend the night in her bed so many days ago. She should have kept him in his place on the floor as she had many times before. Illyria enjoyed keeping her pet close at hand, but waking up to find Spike turned so close to her, she couldn't abide it.
Even now, looking at her pet, there was a softness in his eyes that warned her that he thought of nothing less than being allowed close to her again. It was repulsive how instead of distaste at the very idea, Illyria found herself curious. And not just curious in the sense that she wanted to see what Spike looked like underneath, if she peeled back the skin to see how it all worked underneath. She was still a little curious about that, actually, but now she was more interested in him and his emotions. He was a warrior completely controlled by his emotions, like a sail that could not escape a whirlwind. She'd never seen a creature that could be so totally claimed by its feelings.
Yet here he was, a mixture of hurt and mystification every time he saw her.
"At least it keeps you happy," Spike finally murmured, giving her a strange look. "Reminds you of your squidgy days?"
Illyria lifted her chain. "The very sight of this world, of these foreign limbs is a constant vexation," she said, and then paused. "And yet I find myself impossibly becoming more accustomed to this place."
Spike twitched an eyebrow, biting his lip for a moment to keep from smirking. "Growing on you, then."
"No," Illyria responded immediately. "I am becoming resigned to this shell. To this lesser version of myself. It is unacceptable and yet.... If I could destroy this world to become my true self again, it would be done. But it can never be done."
"Somebody beat you to it," Spike commented, referring to the smoldering wreckage of the city. "We should be out there, keeping the good fight alive."
"It is not of my concern," Illyria denied.
"Kind of is once you sign up for being a good guy," Spike reminded her. "I get that it's demon eat demon, but it ain't exactly gentrification happening down there. We should fight."
"For what end?"
"Saving people," Spike said. "Maybe getting minions," he added. "In case you didn't notice it's sort of lonely around here."
"I have all I require."
"Cute, love," Spike smirked this time. "Can't be your love slave forever, though."
"You are my pet," Illyria asserted, taking a threatening step forward, and stopping abruptly when Spike touched her shoulders lightly, attempting to calm her down.
"Right, your pet," Spike agreed, knowing there was no arguing with her. The best he could do was keep his titan happy. "How about you an' me go on a little field trip? We can find things for you to dismember. I know you love dismembering things."
"I'll bring back the pelt of a foe," Illyria decided, smiling.
"That's my girl," Spike praised.
A noise woke the blue demoness from her sleep. She sat upright immediately, her hair in slight disarray. It took a few seconds for her to conclude that it was the quiet chiming of a clock that had broken her dream. She clawed Wesley's couch for a moment, then looked at Spike, who for once was not following her with a clipboard.
"So you do sleep," Spike commented simply.
