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Angel/Angelus fic set in the indeterminate future
Victory Over You
He's always above me, in control, keeping ahead. They call us different people, and I do have my own thoughts inside his head, but I am his wildness, his unrestraint, his hunger and his passion. He is nothing without me.
But he doesn't want me. He wants his control, and I don't see why he's whining so damn much, because he's kept it over me. He's kept me from coming out, from making something, from having a good time.
I came first. I was made. He's not even the remnant of our humanity. So perfect, so heroic, he makes me want to stake myself, not that I would if I got the control here. Two people sharing the same body, but we're just the same person with one minor difference. I am uninhibited and he's just pathetic.
He still fights the ?good fight'; he makes me sick. Lost a hand, and lost every ally he had, even the blue one, tasteless and ruined from the sweet little drink she was, and he's still fighting his good fight. His face is becoming grey and bat-like as he changes, but yet he fights on, saving women even as an unsightly fool. God I wish that bastard would die.
The world has changed and so has he, but he's never gotten to where his world is. I would make it a good time, I would keep alive even with all their advancements, because none of them have the power anymore. I would have it, but he's stopping it all. So much damned control. Such a tortuous soul, it's more then enough to make me sick.
Everything about this whole game is disgusting. Whatever set me up gave me the damn short straw, and made sure that I've been making full use of that straw. In here for centuries, with two brief and unsatisfactory escapes. I never got to get them. I never got to take them from him, the bastard.
I wanted victory over them, and they've been gone too long.
She was always so cute? blonde and tiny, then wilful and strong. He wanted her, he even loved her, and I had my chances too many times. I've played over what's been done in my head. I'm not a vampire of reflection, but if I could go back I would take away the games and finish it. If I'd known that I'd be trapped here, I'd have killed her and her friends straight away. Oh Buffy, if I could take you to hell with me?
The other one was just the same. He loved her and I needed to destroy her for that. She betrayed me and then it wasn't her, but I always wanted to escape to use and crush her for being the object of his new love. She was his golden path, his salvation, and her fair neck would have been all the sweeter because of it.
She told me that I would be trapped in here forever, and curse that bitch, she was right. The ugliness, the brooding, and the lost loves, and there will never be happiness again. There will NEVER be happiness again and I am always trapped here. He and I have one thing in common? when he's happy, I'm very happy. And I'm trapped inside some righteous mind until he dusts.
He saved a woman tonight. She was beautiful, blonde hair, reminded me of Buffy but with bigger breasts. Basically, she looked like a good screw. And I wanted her. And I'm sure that he wanted her. But he'll never let me out. He killed the vampires and left, ignoring her advances, ignoring her almost completely, not permitting the night of happiness he knows that I need.
As time goes by, he's connecting less and less. Killing the beasts and ignoring the girls, and soon their saving themselves with their technology. He'll never allow himself another love, he'll never think about anything but his losses. He'll never let me out.
And the sting is the loss of love, the disappearance of those special victims who'd be so sweet. They've been dead for centuries at best and I'll never get my victory. They defeated me and I'll never get victory over the women of obsession. He never lets himself forget them but I think of them more.
Sounds so hypocritical from me. The loss of love. But he loved them, and he is like me, and I would have loved to destroy them. I would have loved to take in the scent of their hair, the feel of their thighs, the tone of their pained screaming.
Trapped inside his being, I've neutered myself. I'll never escape, and I just want to leave, to get out, to crush him and to never let him out like he's done to me. I was the strength, the artist, the leader and the monster. I want my victory. I'll never get a victory.
Victory Over You
He's always above me, in control, keeping ahead. They call us different people, and I do have my own thoughts inside his head, but I am his wildness, his unrestraint, his hunger and his passion. He is nothing without me.
But he doesn't want me. He wants his control, and I don't see why he's whining so damn much, because he's kept it over me. He's kept me from coming out, from making something, from having a good time.
I came first. I was made. He's not even the remnant of our humanity. So perfect, so heroic, he makes me want to stake myself, not that I would if I got the control here. Two people sharing the same body, but we're just the same person with one minor difference. I am uninhibited and he's just pathetic.
He still fights the ?good fight'; he makes me sick. Lost a hand, and lost every ally he had, even the blue one, tasteless and ruined from the sweet little drink she was, and he's still fighting his good fight. His face is becoming grey and bat-like as he changes, but yet he fights on, saving women even as an unsightly fool. God I wish that bastard would die.
The world has changed and so has he, but he's never gotten to where his world is. I would make it a good time, I would keep alive even with all their advancements, because none of them have the power anymore. I would have it, but he's stopping it all. So much damned control. Such a tortuous soul, it's more then enough to make me sick.
Everything about this whole game is disgusting. Whatever set me up gave me the damn short straw, and made sure that I've been making full use of that straw. In here for centuries, with two brief and unsatisfactory escapes. I never got to get them. I never got to take them from him, the bastard.
I wanted victory over them, and they've been gone too long.
She was always so cute? blonde and tiny, then wilful and strong. He wanted her, he even loved her, and I had my chances too many times. I've played over what's been done in my head. I'm not a vampire of reflection, but if I could go back I would take away the games and finish it. If I'd known that I'd be trapped here, I'd have killed her and her friends straight away. Oh Buffy, if I could take you to hell with me?
The other one was just the same. He loved her and I needed to destroy her for that. She betrayed me and then it wasn't her, but I always wanted to escape to use and crush her for being the object of his new love. She was his golden path, his salvation, and her fair neck would have been all the sweeter because of it.
She told me that I would be trapped in here forever, and curse that bitch, she was right. The ugliness, the brooding, and the lost loves, and there will never be happiness again. There will NEVER be happiness again and I am always trapped here. He and I have one thing in common? when he's happy, I'm very happy. And I'm trapped inside some righteous mind until he dusts.
He saved a woman tonight. She was beautiful, blonde hair, reminded me of Buffy but with bigger breasts. Basically, she looked like a good screw. And I wanted her. And I'm sure that he wanted her. But he'll never let me out. He killed the vampires and left, ignoring her advances, ignoring her almost completely, not permitting the night of happiness he knows that I need.
As time goes by, he's connecting less and less. Killing the beasts and ignoring the girls, and soon their saving themselves with their technology. He'll never allow himself another love, he'll never think about anything but his losses. He'll never let me out.
And the sting is the loss of love, the disappearance of those special victims who'd be so sweet. They've been dead for centuries at best and I'll never get my victory. They defeated me and I'll never get victory over the women of obsession. He never lets himself forget them but I think of them more.
Sounds so hypocritical from me. The loss of love. But he loved them, and he is like me, and I would have loved to destroy them. I would have loved to take in the scent of their hair, the feel of their thighs, the tone of their pained screaming.
Trapped inside his being, I've neutered myself. I'll never escape, and I just want to leave, to get out, to crush him and to never let him out like he's done to me. I was the strength, the artist, the leader and the monster. I want my victory. I'll never get a victory.