7 Deadly Sins
Spike--Pride
The one girl in all the world. Young. Strong. Full of hot, vibrant, sweet blood. She was the monster. She was the one they told stories about in desperate whispers and low voices in the dark corners. Some would live their entire lives and never see her. More died at her hands, dust in her hair and lungs, blood on her clothes, always a hungry eye for more. Vampires weren’t supposed to be afraid of anything. Fear was a pesky human emotion, but the smart ones cowered. It never occurred to Spike to be afraid. He would best the Slayer.
Spike--Envy
Spike spent every night outside her window, beneath the tree, spoke curled around his head like a halo. He hates Finn, almost as much as he hates Angel. He thought he’d risk the pain to rip Finn’s head off and shove it so far up his ass he’d be able to use his windpipe as a periscope. Riley with his mouth on the Slayer’s, with his hands on her body, with her legs around his body, and her breath in his lungs. Her strong, hot muscles wrapped snuggly around his cock…It was torture. Spike sighed-and the torture never ended.
Dru--Gluttony
First it was the father. He tasted old and grisly and a little spicy. Dru’s her stomach grumbled for more. Then it was his wife. She was younger, and the sweet smell of youth still lingered on her skin. Dru sucked her dry and craved dessert. She picked the boy first. Soft brown curls and bright blue eyes that reminded her of Spike. Sunshine and lollipops. The little girl was so sweet with blonde braids that Dru wanted to save her for later. But she couldn’t control herself and she had a tummy ache for the rest of the day.
Buffy--Lust
Her desire for Angel had been sweet. Fueled by hormones and emotions, but still sweet. It felt good and tasted good. Her desire for Riley’s touch was basic. A part of their relationship. She could live without it, but she still wanted on a regular basis.
She lusted after Spike. Lust in its most primal, horrible, fantastic form. Potent and heady and it clung to her skin like the smell of the goddamned garlic that she thought would repulse him. She felt it in her bones and in her gut and fell into obsession wild and thoughtless. And it hurt.
Buffy--Anger
Buffy didn’t mean to destroy the house. She didn’t mean to tear the pictures from the walls and smash the furniture. Buffy didn’t mean to destroy the crypt. She didn’t mean to trash everything Spike collected, everything that was valuable to him. She didn’t mean to destroy the town. She didn’t plan to start a fight at the Bronze, or throw rocks at passing cars, or vandalize the cemeteries where she looked for vampires. She didn’t mean to smack Dawn hard enough to draw blood and throw Willow out of the house without warning. She was just so goddamned angry.
Anya--Greed
They called her greedy. Anya thought it was being practical. Yes, she wanted to make money, because money meant security. Money meant she’d never have to wake up totally alone. Money would stay with her when she was old and wrinkly and flabby. Money would feed her and her dozens of cats. Money meant she had a place in the world, that she belonged somewhere and would always belong somewhere. Money meant somebody found her valuable, worthwhile enough to pay her for her services, desired her assets. Money meant that when Xander left her she wouldn’t wake up totally alone.
Xander--Sloth
Xander thought that he should move. He should go find Willow and talk about love. He should go find Dawn and eat Twinkies and chat. He thought he should find Faith and see if she wanted to train. He thought he should find Buffy and see if she wanted to patrol. He considered fixing the leaking roof, changing his oil, rotating his tires, buying food, and maybe catching a movie. He told himself he was just mourning--he had the right to take his time. The days turned to years and he forgot whom he mourned but he never stopped.
The one girl in all the world. Young. Strong. Full of hot, vibrant, sweet blood. She was the monster. She was the one they told stories about in desperate whispers and low voices in the dark corners. Some would live their entire lives and never see her. More died at her hands, dust in her hair and lungs, blood on her clothes, always a hungry eye for more. Vampires weren’t supposed to be afraid of anything. Fear was a pesky human emotion, but the smart ones cowered. It never occurred to Spike to be afraid. He would best the Slayer.
Spike--Envy
Spike spent every night outside her window, beneath the tree, spoke curled around his head like a halo. He hates Finn, almost as much as he hates Angel. He thought he’d risk the pain to rip Finn’s head off and shove it so far up his ass he’d be able to use his windpipe as a periscope. Riley with his mouth on the Slayer’s, with his hands on her body, with her legs around his body, and her breath in his lungs. Her strong, hot muscles wrapped snuggly around his cock…It was torture. Spike sighed-and the torture never ended.
Dru--Gluttony
First it was the father. He tasted old and grisly and a little spicy. Dru’s her stomach grumbled for more. Then it was his wife. She was younger, and the sweet smell of youth still lingered on her skin. Dru sucked her dry and craved dessert. She picked the boy first. Soft brown curls and bright blue eyes that reminded her of Spike. Sunshine and lollipops. The little girl was so sweet with blonde braids that Dru wanted to save her for later. But she couldn’t control herself and she had a tummy ache for the rest of the day.
Buffy--Lust
Her desire for Angel had been sweet. Fueled by hormones and emotions, but still sweet. It felt good and tasted good. Her desire for Riley’s touch was basic. A part of their relationship. She could live without it, but she still wanted on a regular basis.
She lusted after Spike. Lust in its most primal, horrible, fantastic form. Potent and heady and it clung to her skin like the smell of the goddamned garlic that she thought would repulse him. She felt it in her bones and in her gut and fell into obsession wild and thoughtless. And it hurt.
Buffy--Anger
Buffy didn’t mean to destroy the house. She didn’t mean to tear the pictures from the walls and smash the furniture. Buffy didn’t mean to destroy the crypt. She didn’t mean to trash everything Spike collected, everything that was valuable to him. She didn’t mean to destroy the town. She didn’t plan to start a fight at the Bronze, or throw rocks at passing cars, or vandalize the cemeteries where she looked for vampires. She didn’t mean to smack Dawn hard enough to draw blood and throw Willow out of the house without warning. She was just so goddamned angry.
Anya--Greed
They called her greedy. Anya thought it was being practical. Yes, she wanted to make money, because money meant security. Money meant she’d never have to wake up totally alone. Money would stay with her when she was old and wrinkly and flabby. Money would feed her and her dozens of cats. Money meant she had a place in the world, that she belonged somewhere and would always belong somewhere. Money meant somebody found her valuable, worthwhile enough to pay her for her services, desired her assets. Money meant that when Xander left her she wouldn’t wake up totally alone.
Xander--Sloth
Xander thought that he should move. He should go find Willow and talk about love. He should go find Dawn and eat Twinkies and chat. He thought he should find Faith and see if she wanted to train. He thought he should find Buffy and see if she wanted to patrol. He considered fixing the leaking roof, changing his oil, rotating his tires, buying food, and maybe catching a movie. He told himself he was just mourning--he had the right to take his time. The days turned to years and he forgot whom he mourned but he never stopped.