Make-ups for 143 and 146
Title Afterthoughts
Author Brutti_ma_Buoni
Rating PG13 [language only]
Word Count 190
Prompt 143 Destiny
Characters/Pairing (if any) Spike
Was I disappointed? When I first tasted the bitter gall of fate and found it pleasantly fruity, with a light bubblegummy aftertaste?
Yeah. Because I hadn’t beaten Angel, after all. Or only in the pulped-face sense; and that will heal soon enough, even if his pride takes a little longer.
But also no. I’m not that big on destiny, y’know? Seems to me, a man makes his own fortune. ‘Specially if he’s not so much a man as a monster who’s trying to be more than that. The universe has thrown many things at me, but I’ve thrown some curveballs right back. If I had any Powers That Be (or Are, or whatever), I like to think they’d be pretty pissed off with me by now.
Turns out, though, there are no prophecies written about me. The universe doesn’t have a big fate planned out for me three centuries in advance; and there’s no vengeful demon or hell god or mystical prize out there waiting for its moment in the limelight with me as its preordained co-star.
What the fuck do I care about that?
What I have is freedom.
***
Title Ongoing Conversations
Author Brutti ma Buoni
Rating PG
Word Count 100
Prompt 146 (Conversations with Dead People)
Characters/Pairing (if any) Anya
Anya couldn’t sleep on November 12 2002.
Every time she closed her eyes, or relaxed, or stopped concentrating fiercely on her stock trading, her remote career counselling or her latest self-help guide (You Are Yourself, and You Don’t Need Other People) she saw Hallie.
“Go away. You’re dead. I killed you myself, in a non-strictly literal sense.”
Reasoning didn’t work.
Nor did pleading (“You were my friend, now you’re hurting me.”)
Nor earplugs and a blindfold.
Next day, it turned out the Scoobies had all been having dead-people visitations that night.
But Anya continued to see Hallie every single night.
***
Author Brutti_ma_Buoni
Rating PG13 [language only]
Word Count 190
Prompt 143 Destiny
Characters/Pairing (if any) Spike
Was I disappointed? When I first tasted the bitter gall of fate and found it pleasantly fruity, with a light bubblegummy aftertaste?
Yeah. Because I hadn’t beaten Angel, after all. Or only in the pulped-face sense; and that will heal soon enough, even if his pride takes a little longer.
But also no. I’m not that big on destiny, y’know? Seems to me, a man makes his own fortune. ‘Specially if he’s not so much a man as a monster who’s trying to be more than that. The universe has thrown many things at me, but I’ve thrown some curveballs right back. If I had any Powers That Be (or Are, or whatever), I like to think they’d be pretty pissed off with me by now.
Turns out, though, there are no prophecies written about me. The universe doesn’t have a big fate planned out for me three centuries in advance; and there’s no vengeful demon or hell god or mystical prize out there waiting for its moment in the limelight with me as its preordained co-star.
What the fuck do I care about that?
What I have is freedom.
***
Title Ongoing Conversations
Author Brutti ma Buoni
Rating PG
Word Count 100
Prompt 146 (Conversations with Dead People)
Characters/Pairing (if any) Anya
Anya couldn’t sleep on November 12 2002.
Every time she closed her eyes, or relaxed, or stopped concentrating fiercely on her stock trading, her remote career counselling or her latest self-help guide (You Are Yourself, and You Don’t Need Other People) she saw Hallie.
“Go away. You’re dead. I killed you myself, in a non-strictly literal sense.”
Reasoning didn’t work.
Nor did pleading (“You were my friend, now you’re hurting me.”)
Nor earplugs and a blindfold.
Next day, it turned out the Scoobies had all been having dead-people visitations that night.
But Anya continued to see Hallie every single night.
***