Title: Risen
Author: Daisy
Posted: 10-30-2007
Rating: R
Category: Dark, er. Porn?
Summary: I am Lilith. I am Lilin and Rusalka and Belili. I am before Eve. I am the below and I am always.
Disclaimer: All belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.
Feedback: Is always appreciated.
A/N: Thanks go to livejournal’s ely_jan and gingerpig for the read throughs and encouragement, and to Samsmom who came up with such a wonderful prompt for me to use. Said prompt is at the end of the fic.
At first there was nothing. A stillness so complete it grew form, solid enough to cradle inside careful fingers.
Then there was light and heat and ozone bursting outwards, scorching the air with the promise of brimstone reigning down on Sodom, a baptism of fire.
And finally, she was risen.
***
She shimmers, an electric current without an earth to ground her. Livewire and dangerous. Angel curls his hands to fists, doesn‘t touch her, won‘t make the connection. Knows what it will cost him to pull away again.
She smiles, glossy lips dragging a promise over his jaw and leaving a smear of red behind. “I am Lilith. I am Lilin and Rusalka and Belili. I am before Eve. I am the below and I am always.”
Angel bares his teeth, knows old evil now that he can smell it. “What do you want with her?”
She laughs, head tipped back on a long neck that Angel has to clench his jaw and turn his eyes away from.
“Maybe you should be asking yourself that, big guy.”
***
“Maybe we should consider lycanthropy again.”
“The dates are no good, we‘ve been over it already.”
Wesley took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“There isn‘t enough left of the victims to gain anything conclusive about how they died, let alone of what. We’ve looked at everything. I thought, perhaps, with the second victims proximity to the water that it might be a Rawhead, but that didn’t fit with the teeth found near the first. We’ve looked at hell hounds, black dogs, possessions and nothing matches up. Something is tearing these girls apart like they can’t stand their own skin and - oh. Oh bloody hell. Of course.”
***
She shivers and shakes, head rolling back loosely on her neck as she moans low in her throat, blood pumping a brilliant tattoo at her pulse and Angel has to turn away, can’t look anymore. Can’t see and not have.
“She wants you,“ she moans low, breasts pressing against his chest. “She does. I can feel it, thick and nasty with how much she’s aching for it. God, and so ripe. So ripe, Angel, and ready for it.”
“Shut up,” he barks, pushing her back against the wall. Her head cracks painfully but she just laughs, gravel rough and taunting.
***
Dead language, forgotten words, omnis immundus spiritus and burning sage. Sigils and torn paper, blood and sin and she revels in it, spreads out her fingers and makes glass rattle and shake in the windows.
Wesley wipes his forehead with a shaking hand.
Angel’s footsteps fade.
“Do it again.”
***
She rolls her eyes. “Idiots. I am her. I want what she wants, I need, I ache. I - oh.” She tilts her head to the side, a slow considering smile, patchouli and rose water thick in the air. “Did you know?”
Angel swallows, eyes narrowed and jaw a tight line of tension.
“Shut up or I will gag you.”
“Mmm, rough. Hold me down and make me beg for it, make me scream, make me cry, come on, Angel, you know you want to. I know you can smell it all over me, how much I want you, all the time and so ripe for it, Angel, please, untie me and you can have it all, I want you to have it, to take it.”
The lights flicker as she groans, skin flushing hot and damp.
***
“We have to get it out of her.”
“I can’t - none of the translations match up, Angel, it’s. We could end up doing more damage than - “
“Wesley. Just do it.”
***
Sweat beads pool in her clavicle as she pants, breath ragged and harsh as her heart beats too fast, blood pumping erratically, desperately, chest heaving as her head falls back to reveal the long line of her throat. Her wrists twist, skin burning against rope and the smell of blood hits Angel, a punch to the gut.
“Don’t you see what you could have,” she asks, cheeks mottled red and eyes flashing dark, a glimpse into another familiar world. “She’s right here and she wants and you deny yourself-”
“I can’t-”
“You won’t!“ she spits, her head reeling back whipcord quick and the glimmer shifts and cracks open, the lights hissing and growing bright enough to show the spider web of blue veins mapping beneath her skin, sunken and grey, lips cracked and oozing. She writhes, bones unconnected and muscles jerking with tension.
***
“You’re hurting me.” Cordelia frowned, voice soft and drawing Angel closer, closer, the inevitable downward descent.
Gentle fingers against his chest, his neck, jaw and cheek, hypnotic and sweet, too much for a weak man already tempted. Her eyes flared, inhuman and startling, as her back hit the wall, body limp and loose and inviting and Angel knew, knew and couldn‘t stop, knew and hated her for it.
***
“None of you see her. None of you.” She coughs, wet and painful, blood speckling her lips and head limp on her neck. “So wrapped up in yourselves that you can’t see what you have. See her potential.”
She raises her head, bares blood stained teeth.
“But I saw it. I knew -”
Circle broken, Angel’s fingers curl tightly around her neck, lip twisting with a snarl. “You know nothing.”
She smiles and the world cracks open.
“I know enough.”
***
At first there was nothing. A stillness so complete it grew form, solid enough to cradle inside careful fingers.
Then there was light and heat and ozone bursting outwards, scorching the air with the promise of brimstone reigning down on Sodom, a baptism of fire.
And finally, the silent echoes of claws scraping across the floor.
Cordelia screams.
***
She didn’t come to him in dreams but in flesh and blood and beating heart. She sidled up with the lie of familiarity and curled her claws in deep, said his name and he whispered the one she’d stolen, shivered and shook as he palmed her breasts and pushed thick fingers inside her, too much, too much, brought close to the edge of pain but she just grunted and jerked and fed poison from her lips to his.
He pressed her down, knocking her thighs apart and settling in tight - wanted her on her back, on her knees, riding him fast and brutal, taking everything he can get and damning the consequences because he’s sure as hell on that path already. He pulled her hips up with a jerk and he’s there, no sweet build up to, no tender touches in the shadow of the rain on the window, just the tight push forward until she gives, spreads open and shakes in his hands.
Her fingers gripped at his arms, quiet hiccupping breathes with each and every surge into her that she can’t escape, couldn’t ever want to escape and he was warmer than she thought he’d be, no beating heart but enough, enough to make for a comfortable illusion and she can take just as much.
He slipped his fingers against her, felt the wet at their join and groaned, pressed a finger in along side himself making her cry out and buck, body rippling like a revelation.
“Have me,” she begged and
no.
That wasn‘t right. Cordelia Chase didn’t beg, didn‘t bow and scrape and that was it. Fingers wet with her, Angel wrapped his hands around her wrists (delicate bird bones so misleading) and fought through the fog in his head, brow creasing with a frown.
“Who are you?”
***
“It wasn’t me,” Cordelia tips up her chin, steel and walls and lies set in place.
Angel nods, curls his hands into fists but can still smell her on his fingers. “I know.”
Silenced stretched thinly across the lobby until the door shut heavily behind her.
End.
prompt: AI saves a woman from the possession of a succubus, who then latches onto Cordelia, turning her into a supernatural femme fatale, and a danger to Angel. Intent on seducing him, can AI figure out what’s happened to their seer, and perform an exorcism before Angel succumbs to what he’s always wanted?