#and yet he also tells buffy he's never been 'close'

[midnight-mismanagement]

I know this has been talked about a lot but just been thinking about how Something Blue is like a fanfic writer going “haha what if I shipped this wouldn’t it be wild jk” and then it spiralling wildly out of control. It is a crack ship eventually treated seriously and I find that hilarious. 

And also just, how does the Will Be Done spell even work. The parameters. I’ve been thinking about it, and Willow only said “why doesn’t she just go marry him” (or something to that effect) not “why don’t they fall hopelessly in love with each other and get married.” They could’ve easily had it where they both maintained their enemy dynamic and been very confused and angry the entire way to getting a marriage certificate, and I think it’s that the concept of marriage and the action of it have to align with the person’s internal logic in some way. Buffy does not believe she will get married, she is the Slayer, she can fantasize but she will most likely die young. So marriage in her head is a Big Fantasy Thing that should only be done if you are Truly In Love and it must require all the wedding planning and the beautiful white dress and all the bells and whistles because the improbability of it happening just fuels the abstract fantasy. She comes across as So Happy and it’s the happiest she’s ever been because on some level she cannot imagine herself being that happy and she cannot imagine a wedding without being that happy, so it’s designated into this little Buffy Fantasy Box Scenario. 

And Spike has loved Dru for a hundred years and never needed a wedding or marriage because that is a Human Concept that he probably also fantasized about as a human but hasn’t really thought of since (and has probably had to abandon). Their love doesn’t need a silly paper, they are having a wedding everyday, they celebrate their love everyday, it’s about the constant displays of devotion. So in this made up marriage scenario, Spike can only imagine himself as initiating a proposal if he is In Love and Devoted (and probably secretly wishes he and Dru did have some kind of wedding but would never admit that. Thinking about Angelus telling him: “you can take what you want, have what you want, but nothing is yours. Not even her [dru].”)

Basically, Spike and Buffy as they are would only consider marriage if they are truly in love with someone and they both have a little tentatively abstract Wedding Fantasy that lives rent free in their brains that they would never admit exists there in the first place. And it’s why both of them act like a CoupleTM and do all the Wedding Planning ThingsTM because that’s what a wedding should be, right? 

They shouldn’t be a Thing [couple/in love] and yet they are meeting each other halfway in indulging this Thing [wedding/marriage/”normal” life] that can never be.  

[oveliagirlhaditright]

So... this is an idea that I don't know if many will agree with, but I'm putting it out there, anyway.

I feel like, for obvious reasons, Buffy and Angel would always have trauma with the idea of him calling her "Buff."

(Unless, in the future, they managed to talk it out and eventually managed to heal from that, so that eventually he could. That's a great option, too.)

But nicknames are adorable. And while usually I'm opposed to someone in fanon calling a character something they didn't in canon (except in the Kingdom Heart fandom, Sora calling Kairi "Kai," but there's a tiny bit of precedent for that), what if way in the future (after a lot of character development and them having a life together, of course, and them being super comfortable with each other) he called her "Fy" for short some times? (Pronounced like the last part of Buffy's name is pronounced, of course. Or how people sometimes might call a "Fiona" "Fi" for short, for example.)

It might be cute. Especially if it's a special nickname that only he calls her, since if anyone else wants to shorten her name, they just use "Buff". I don't know.

[coraniaid]

Anne is such a well constructed episode.  It’s not the best season opener (that’s Bargaining) and it’s not my favorite season opener (probably When She Was Bad), and if you’re feeling cynical you could argue it’s at least partly a pilot for the Angel spin-off series in disguise (since … it is?), but it’s just so well put together and full of so much foreshadowing and symbolism and references to previous episodes.  I really like it and I really liked rewatching it, almost more than I was expecting to.

The last time I watched it I remember being annoyed by the fact it didn’t focus entirely on Buffy in LA.  I thought the scenes set back in Sunnydale were a distraction from her story: I don’t care about Xander and Cordelia’s relationship and I don’t care about the Scoobies' attempt to stake one very obliging random vampire.   And yet, for some reason, this time around I felt a lot better disposed to this half of the episode.  I do still think it would have been interesting to have a whole episode away from Buffy’s friends, and that the Sunnydale plotline is a lot less intense than what’s going on in LA. But I think it’s a mistake to conclude the scenes in Sunnydale are a waste of time or don’t do something important.

The juxtaposition between a Buffyless Sunndale and a Buffy who’s stopped being Buffy felt a lot more deliberate this time around, whether that meant cutting directly to Buffy’s dream about Angel after Willow said she wished she knew where she was, or the way the big, noisy crowd at the first day of school hard cuts to Buffy sitting alone in silence in her tiny rented room, or Joyce asking Giles “and who exactly is she?” right before Lily comes back to the diner to ask Buffy for help.  And, having set up this pattern, the fact that we never once cut back to Sunnydale while Buffy and Lily are trapped in the hell dimension suddenly feels weirdly claustrophobic, and makes that final jump back to Joyce at home at the end work a lot better than it otherwise would. 

I also really really like Lily.  As Chanterelle in Lie To Me she wasn’t really given much to do, but Julia Lee is really good here as – not quite a proto-Faith, but another alternate Buffy who’s quietly hinted to have a pretty horrible backstory.  That pause after Buffy asks her “what do they call you at home?” speaks volumes, as does the way she assures Buffy she wouldn’t tell anyone about who she is or where to find her because “I know how it is when you’ve got to get lost”, or how quickly she resigns herself to believing they’re in hell later because she “always knew she belonged here”.

And, almost at the same time, she’s also a great comic foil (asking Buffy if she can “come with her” right after agreeing that they should split up, or coming back to apologize to her when she's meant to be getting away "in case we die").  I love that she gets to push Ken off the balcony mid-speech (in fact, I almost think the episode would be stronger if that really was the last we saw of Ken: I’m not sure his reappearance later just to be killed by Buffy herself really adds much).  And I love the argument about Rickie’s death (that isn’t really about Rickie) that she has with Buffy: “he didn’t do anything wrong, why would this happen to him?” versus “These things happen all the time. You can’t just close your eyes and hope they’re going to go away.”

I really like the fact that Lily (as Anne Steele) goes on to be a minor character on Angel, but I do wish we’d had some hint that Buffy really had stayed in touch with her after this episode the way she promises she will.  Once again I am imploring the Buffy writers, decades after the fact, to please let Buffy have a few more friends. 

(Oh, and, look: neither Buffy nor Lily get magically pregnant and die this episode!  The possibility doesn’t even come up!  Maybe this wasn’t a stealth Angel pilot after all...)

And I've not even touched on the wonderfully unsubtle foreshadowing of Ken’s repeated lines about kids “getting old fast here”, or the way this episode almost acts as a proto-Bargaining (with Willow very clearly taking charge of the group in Buffy’s absence, even taking on the Slayer role in the pre-credits scene), or Oz throwing his stake at a retreating vampire and then ruefully noting that “that just never works” as it bounces harmlessly wide, or just how much everyone in Sunnydale seems to miss Buffy in their own different ways, or Larry insisting this is the football team’s year if only they can “keep discipline, maintain focus and not have quite so many mysterious deaths”.  Or that last shot of Buffy back home, and how it’s deliberately framed from her mom's perspective rather than her own.

Honestly, I just think Season 3 is so good and I love it so much (I furiously remind myself, knowing that Dead Man’s Party is up next and will try its best to convince me I’m wrong…)

[pinazee]

What did you think of Spock/Chapel chemistry season 2? are people just hating or did they lack it post episode 5 Charades.

I am not a fan of this ship, objectively, so I will like a more objective response and you seem to be fair to all trek ship. this is why I like to ask you questions.

Is it just hate when you see people say spock/chapel had no chemistry in season 2?

A lot of people and even critics said they had chemistry in season 1. do you think it is because they teased a will they or wont they hook up and people love a build up more than the actual relationsip?

It is as if the chemistry was gone once they got together after Charades? I don't know if that is fair or if it is because they have so many haters. However I do know a lot of critics, did not talk much about their chemistry in season 2 either.

Its interesting SNW did a big buffy homarge with the musical but the way they wrote the spock/chapel stuff did mirror some buffy couples. for instance Xander leaving Anya at the alter when he gets a message from the future that their marriage fails is similar to Chapel dumping Spock because Boimler tells her, she is not in his future. Cordy/Wesley were built to be a couple and had the chemistry for that but once they tried, the romance failed and there was no chemistry.

As I said, I don't like this ship, it just has too much baggage that was more negative than positive, but I do still like objective un bias opinions and you seem to be one of the neutral trek fans, who can be fair, so what are your takes on the chemistry of spock/chapel before and after they hooked up.

Thanks for the ask :)

I do think there was a tonal shift to Spapel once the relationship formed, but i also think the writers did that on purpose. I think this relationship is supposed to serve both Spock’s and Chapels overall separate arcs.

What I’ve gotten from it is that Spock’s experimenting with his more human emotions and letting himself feel more openly. So pre-relationship its just fun, intense, wanting. I honestly don’t think he was thinking beyond i want to be with her. So when they did get together, and he showed Chapel this sacred piece of his soul, it was terrifying. Because what if she left after he exposed this fresh and raw part of himself? That fear maybe led him to be too emotionally codependent.

As for Chapel, she has some unclear romantic baggage we haven’t seen yet, though, she’s said she doesn’t let people get close anymore. But then Spock came along, and he was kind and protective. He also listened to her and valued her. Whether she liked it or not, she fell for him pretty quickly. I mean, sometimes you just can’t help when the right person comes along. But then the relationship formed. Chapel, having apparently been stung before, wanted it to go slow because she too was afraid it would end, and she’d get her heart broken. Then Boimler all but said as much was going to happen and that was that. It was a like a self-fulfilling prophecy. Why become more attached to something doomed to fail?

So yeah, pre-relationship both are so caught up in their intense crushes, and then in the relationship they both need vastly different things (spock- a five year plan, chapel- space to figure it out).

It’s like they took the line “having is not so pleasing as wanting” and ran with it haha

Idk about the chemistry to be honest. I never really felt anything between them but i also never shipped them. It was too rushed, he was engaged for most of it, and they even had less screen time than la’an and kirk. I think if we got a scene of them just hanging out, maybe learning some more about Chapel, i think i might be more invested? Idk. Could also be because Chapel feels sidelined to Spock story-wise (which Ive gone more in depth in another post).

I uh, don’t know if this answers your question or if i just vomited up some nonsense haha

[theearlgreymage]

It is yet another Six Sentence Sunday, and I have only two more Sunday's until break. The freedom is close. I can taste it.

Thankfully, these last two weeks should be a breeze and I can get back in a more regular groove with writing.

Maybe.

Here's hoping at least.

Hello to the wonderful @artsyunderstudy @nausikaaa @aristocratic-otter @confused-bi-queer @rimeswithpurple and @ic3-que3n for tagging me despite my lack of posting lately. You are all amazing <3

Despite my quietness, I have been tapping away at a couple of different projects. So, enjoy six series of six sentences --

COBB Project #1

She’s been making these excursions on her own every few months. Claiming them to be for her research, but I followed her last time. I saw the supplies she took, and didn’t bring back with her. We were outside Bristol when I lost track of her. Somehow she managed to lose all her supplies and beat me back to Watford.  There’s no way she managed that on her own.  But until she’s willing to admit the truth to me, I’m on my own with finding Simon.

COBB Project #2

Coward.  It’s the last word I’ll hear from him for a while as I step into the warm sunshine. While he can technically reach me beyond the Underworld, it is a lot harder for him to do. From what I can tell, it’s not worth the effort.  Not caring whether the chlamys around my shoulder gets dirty, I collapse onto my back into the grass. Letting the sun warm my chilled skin. 

A Gift for Someone

Nothing to see here. I wonder how many other students at Watford have used this spell for elicit sexual acts. How many students have had their trousers pulled down in the middle of the Great Lawn with none of us being the wiser? Of course, this isn't the Great Lawn - it's the back table in Astronomy that I'm crouched beneath. And it's not just any student who's trousers I'm pulling down eagerly. They're Simon Snow's trousers.

Another Gift for Someone

The snap of leather against leather sends a chill down my spine. I do my best to conceal it. The click of heeled boots on the wooden floor let me know that he's walking towards me, and still I fight the urge to shiver in anticipation. But when I feel the soft brush of the collar and warm press of fingers on my throat, I can't help but shudder. "Are you going to be good for me tonight?"

Something I'm working on in secret that may or may not see the light of day

Even if I’d come to accept myself more - feel more comfortable as my own individual person - I was still hung-up on the idea of having children that weren’t mine. It became an even bigger issue after Simon admitted to wanting a child. My mind became full of the impossible; of a small child with golden skin, freckles, dark hair, curls, and light colored eyes.  We thought it impossible, and set the topic off to the side. There were plenty of other things for us to worry over. My graduation and the wedding being the top two items on the list.

Chapter 4 of Infinity in Your Chest Pocket

This time, when I spot the movement out of the bedroom window I don't hesitate to leave the room. Fuck these wraiths. I'm not spending another night alone in a room with them. Baz can complain about me following him into the woods all he wants. It's not like he's doing anything all that secretive. We both know that I know that he's a vampire - one that has apparently never tasted human blood.

Tags and Hello's to Everyone under the Cut. Please know that I am eternally excited over everyone's projects and cannot get enough of the talent you all have. Also, I officially made a gosh darn spreadsheet to keep track of people for tagging!

@aroace-genderfluid-sheep @bazzybelle @bookish-bogwitch @buffy @captain-aralias @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @cutestkilla @ebbpettier @erzbethluna @facewithoutheart @fatalfangirl @foolofabookwyrm-activated @gekkoinapeartree @henreyettah @hushed-chorus @ivelovedhimthroughworse @ileadacharmedlife @ionlydrinkhotwater @j-nipper-95 @johnwgrey @krisrix @larkral @letraspal @martsonmars @moodandmist @mostlymaudlin @onepintobean @palimpsessed @prettylightsbigcity @raenestee @shrekgogurt @skeedelvee @stardustasincocaine @stitchyqueer @tea-brigade @theimpossibledemon @thewholelemon @upuntil6am @wellbelesbian @whogaveyoupermission @yellobb @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

[juniperhillpatient]

Sokka's Master Re-Watch

I enjoy that the water siblings get back-to-back episodes about how awesome they are. It's what they deserve. And much like 'The Painted Lady' is about Katara's defining traits, I think 'Sokka's Master' tells us a lot about Sokka. I kind of feel like just copying Piandao's quote because it's so good.

"Sokka, when you first arrived, you were so unsure. You even seemed down on yourself. But I saw something in you right away. I saw a heart as strong as a lion turtle, and twice as big. And as we trained, it wasn't your skills that impressed me. No, it certainly wasn't your skills. You showed something beyond that.

Creativity, versatility, intelligence... these are the traits that define a great swordsman. And these are the traits that define you. You told me you didn't know if you were worthy, but I believe that you are more worthy than any man I have ever trained."

[ID: an image of Sokka with a sword, looking serious. end id]

Also - I have to laugh real quick. "But I believe that you are more worthy than any man I have ever trained." Uh, didn't PIandao also train Zuko? Dragged through the mud lmao

The Sokka Vs. Piandao fight, & the reveal that Piandao is - 1. aware of the Gaang's real identities & 2. a member of the mysterious White Lotus - is pretty well done, even if I still haven't decided how I feel about that club.

Also, I realized I've been doing Sokka a little dirty in my fanfics by never letting him have his meteor sword as a weapon in universes where it could've been relevant (Vampire Diaries & Buffy alternate universes come to mind) as a signature weapon. Sorry, Sokka, I think it's because it comes up so late in the show. Still. Next time. It's such a neat weapon.

An aspect of this episode that I really enjoy is that when Sokka confesses his insecurities, no one teases him. The Gaang so sincerely respect & love Sokka. I especially enjoyed the water-siblings moment.

[id: Sokka sitting apart from Katara, Aang, & Toph, looking sad. end id]

Katara is quick to let Sokka know that no one else sees him the negative way he sees himself. But, she doesn't discount his feelings as ridiculous either. It's such a sweet moment. And I always crack up at how quickly shopping cheers Sokka up!

It's been commented on before that the A plot of this episode is Sokka learning to be a master swordsman & the B plot is Sokka's friends sitting around talking about how great he is & how much they miss him & the C plot is Iroh getting swole as fuck in prison & that's basically an ideal episode & I have to agree. I loved this episode even if I missed the Fire Teens. I can't be too mad about that though, because 'The Beach' is coming up next.

Oh, & I just have to put it out there - obviously, Sokka is the family comedian, but I liked Katara's jokes! She's funny, Aang & Toph are just mean lol

Oh yeah, Iroh getting swole as fuck in prison. Well, I don't have a lot of commentary on that. I just think it's fun & tracks well with Iroh's characterization. This is yet another example of proof that the face Iroh shows the world is not the real him. The feeble old man schtick really is - well - a schtick. It always has been. Not that he's not a kind old man with good advice & tea. He is. But there's a whole other person beneath the surface, & that's certainly interesting.

My closing thoughts on this episode are on the parallels between the water siblings & the fire siblings. Sokka & Zuko both train under Piandao & become master swordsmen. They both experience crushing insecurity, in part due to the talents of their prodigious younger sisters. The difference is - Katara & Sokka were raised in a kind environment & taught to value each other. Katara's instinct when Sokka confesses to feeling down on himself is to be there for him. I think 'The Beach' demonstrates that Azula is willing to be there for her brother in a similar manner, but because of years of being pitted against each other & the toxic dynamics at play in the royal family, it's not that easy. I'm not saying anything new here, I just fucking love narrative foils.

Sokka of course gets a lot of iconic behavior points for this entire episode...I'm gonna say +1000 for that fight against Piandao, & +500 for the meteor sword idea.

This is a great episode that allows us to take a deeper look at Sokka's character, both his insecurities & his strengths. That's all I have for now. More rambling soon to come!

[chasingfictions]

also physically cant read the spuffy after life reunion scene as anything other than wedding imagery like. spike standing at the threshold / altar all in black, buffy appearing at the top of the steps /aisle in white

the way she's preceded by dawn, like you would be at a wedding by your maid of honor, the way dawn's head is turned to look at her coming down the way you would when a bride enters a chapel

the way the look on spike's face, just awe and disbelief and love, is SO close to the classic 'groom starts crying when he sees bride in her wedding dress' moment .

the way them just looking at each other in profile, holding hands, looks SO much like saying vows. the way there's something about the '147 days yesterday, 148 today' that has this energy of wedding vows. just something so succinct and honest that says i am devoted to you, with everything i've got.

and honestly like the classic wedding vows feel so relevant to where they're at at this stage? like, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do us part. and there's something about how the scoobies' refrain across the last two episodes and this one is like, buffy is something that can and should be fixed, they actively ask if she's 'broken' at the start of this episode. the way, whether or not they would have accepted that buffy was in heaven, she didnt perceive she could tell them that. the way the vibe is very much in health and not very much in sickness. and she grows closer to spike because he makes room for her to be messy. for her to be sick.

and there's also something about till death do us part because it already has. like. this episode being called "after life" is one of my favorite episode names in the whole show, like this is the afterlife, and we're after the after ife, and we're also like, doing life we shouldn't be doing, because life ended. it was supposed to end, and yet here we are, with more of it. like, the fact that we are starting marriage vows from a place of not even til death can do us part i will be with you forever. the way spike is buffy's shadow, the way spike is the parts of buffy she feels shame about, and that part of her also loves her unconditionally, buffy's own shadow will never stop loving her even though she hates her shadow. buffy's shadow loves her past the point of death, even though being dead itself is one of the things buffy hates her shadow for .

and just !!! the way she comes back and it's like oh, he's been waiting for her, it almost feels like he was made for her, for this moment, where she is undead, and suddenly this undead person who loves her unconditionally is just waiting, right where she left him at the foot of the stairs of her house in "the gift"!!!!!!!

and they werent matched before, not as equals, but they are now, because the death is inside her too. .... literally thinking about "death is your gift" and in some way spike, her own personal dead man, feels like this gift that someone left there for her, that this vampire fell in love with her and didnt realize it and got neutered and learned out to enact morality for her and all those pieces didnt fall into place, into clarity, until right now. there's almost this divine timing to it. like, all those things had to happen so that buffy, coming out of heaven, coming into her new life as someone resurrected, would have spike there, waiting for her at the foot of the stairs, ready to understand her, ready to be devoted to her, past death, and nothing do them part

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Worth the World

Spike x Reader

Words: 2459

Summary: On a particularly bad day, the reader can barely bring herself to get out of bed. Spike does his best to comfort his girlfriend without being overbearing. 

Notes: This is inspired by one of my favorite fics ever by @suckmysupernatural. I got this idea when having a depressive episode myself, so I hope you guys enjoy a little comfort fic with one of my favorite vamps. Plus, I’ve never written for Spike before and since I’m getting back into Buffy, I thought this would be the perfect time. (Also, this is entirely based on my own experience, so it might not be everyone’s experience with this kind of thing {but please be nice, I just used a few of the things I felt so it’s all based on my own emotions and insecurities!}) Enjoy!

Warnings: Depression, self-loathing, anxiety (This imagine was really just a way for me to put down my emotions and write something comforting, but I hope you all like it too)

-

You didn’t want to move. You weren’t really sure if you could. Your limbs just felt… heavy. Forcing your legs to move, you slowly swung them over the side of the bed, using all the strength you could muster to sit up straight. 

It wasn’t that something terrible had happened. In fact, the day before had gone pretty well. You’d spent most of it watching movies with Willow and Buffy and, when the sunset, you went on a long evening walk with your boyfriend. There were no deadly forces plotting world domination, no vengeful vamps after you or your friends. Hell, your favorite restaurant was open and you brought home leftovers for breakfast. 

Now, the idea of eating made your stomach turn. You managed to shuffle your way to the kitchen of your apartment, but just stood in front of the counter, leaning on the marble top for support. Just standing there felt like it took every ounce of energy you had. It was almost painful, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You did your best to keep them from falling. You had places to be today, meeting up with the gang and  you didn’t want to worry them with your moping. 

With slow steps, you made your way back to your room to get dressed. Of course, most of your clothes were dirty and you didn’t care enough to wash them. So you threw a sweatshirt over your pajama top and put on some shoes, hoping no one would ask about it. You caught your reflection and felt that dark, empty feeling in your chest grow. Pathetic. Your shoulders sagged forward and you blinked away more tears as you watched them well in your eyes. You didn’t have the right to feel like this. How much had Buffy been through and she still greeted every day with a smile. Everything was perfect and yet you were pathetic enough to still want to crawl back into bed. You just hoped that you would feel better by the time you saw everyone. Especially Spike. 

-

You sat with your legs pulled up to your chest. Xander and Willow were debating whether or not using wooden bullets would be a good vamp killer. Buffy was listening in amusement and Giles just looked exasperated, distracting himself by putting books back in their proper place on the shelves. No one said anything about your pajamas. You actually felt kind of invisible, like no one even really knew you were there. It made the empty feeling that much worse. 

“What do you think, Y/N?” 

“Xander, don’t you think that’s a little insensitive?”

“What? It’s not like we’re planning on dusting her boyfriend. Even if he is annoying and evil and-”

“Xander.” Willow said sternly. When you looked up, everyone’s eyes were on you. 

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t really paying attention.” Your voice held little to no emotion. You were almost too exhausted to feel anything. You just felt hollow. 

“If I shot Spike with a wooden bullet do you think he would, you know,” Xander made a motion with his hands that was meant to simulate a vampire dying. “Just theoretically, of course.” 

Everyone was expecting a witty remark. You and Xander were close and teased each other often, especially about your relationship with Spike. Instead, you just shrugged, your eyes fixating on a spot on the table. 

“Maybe.” 

The group collectively exchanged a look of concern, but didn’t press anything. After all, what reason could there be for you to be upset? They knew that if something had happened with Spike, you would tell them and there weren’t any recent deaths to worry about, so they continued on with their playful conversations about breaking curses and some movie that they had watched recently. It felt like you were intruding- like an unwanted bystander that everyone wished would just disappear. While no one had said anything like that, the thoughts filled your head nonetheless. 

This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, but you’d never told them. An episode like this hadn’t happened in months so you had hoped they had stopped. Some days you were as happy as you ever had been, but others you felt like a burden. Worthless and pathetic- pitying yourself for no reason at all. 

Spike didn’t even know, even after almost a year of dating. You never dreamed of telling him. Spike was always saying that you were the strong one. You were the one that helped him through every day of his endless living. He got his soul for you. What would he say if he saw you like this? If he knew the doubts and loathing going through your head. He would know that you’re weak and vulnerable and you didn’t want that to happen. 

So you didn’t tell them. You kept all of your thoughts inside of you as they ate away at your mind. On the outside, you just looked tired. Everyone knew that you stayed awake into the late hours because of Spike, so you hoped that’s what they would think. You were tired, but it wasn’t from lack of sleep. It was like your body just wanted to give up. Maybe if you could just wake yourself up, everything would go back to normal. 

Buffy and Willow went out for coffee, so you went with them, hoping the caffeine would be enough to shake you out of this. Instead, it just made you more jumpy and anxious. The cup shook in your hand, but you kept drinking, still hoping that it would give you enough energy to fake it. This, like your out-of-it demeanor, did not go unnoticed. 

“Hey, are you feeling okay?” Buffy asked, suddenly stopping her conversation with Willow about shoes. At first, you didn’t realize she was talking to you. You were so focused on the thoughts swarming around in your head, you hadn’t noticed they were both looking at you with concern. 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Because you’ve been spacing out all morning. What’s going on?” 

“I guess I’m just tired.” You shrugged, grimacing from the effort the small movement took. 

“Are you sure? Did Spike do something stupid, because you know I’ll-”

“Really, Buffy, I’m okay. I think I just need to go home and rest for a while.” You finished the rest of the coffee, feeling your heart beat faster as the anxiety built up in your chest. “I’ll see you guys later, okay?” 

“Okay.” Buffy gave you a skeptical glance and Willow smiled sincerely.

“Feel better, Y/N.” 

“I’ll see you guys later.” You faked the best smile you could before turning away from them. 

“Is she going to be okay?” Willow wondered, watching the way you nervously messed with the hem of your shirt as you walked. Buffy narrowed her eyes and grabbed her bag. 

“I don’t know, but if she won’t talk to us about it, there’s one person she will.” 

“Oh do we have to go there? You know that place gives me the creeps.” Willow whined. Buffy just gave her a look and the two trekked off in search of your sun-hating boyfriend. 

-

You stood in the middle of your living room as the tears slowly started to pour down your cheeks. The coffee must have given you enough energy to cry and now you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t move, you just stood, frozen by the overwhelming emptiness inside you. Pathetic. Useless. Worthless. Everything was swirling around your head, breaking you down further until you had to lean against the window sill to stay standing. 

You could faintly hear something outside your door, but you made no motion to open it. It sounded far away, or maybe you were just blocking it out. All you could hear was your heart pounding, along with the hundreds of doubts rattling in your head. It was until the door burst open that you flinched. 

“First, the slayer comes banging on my crypt, telling me that something’s wrong and then you leave me to break down your door- if I could die, you would have scared me to death. Why didn’t you open the door?” Spike huffed in frustration. You didn’t turn around. Frankly, you hardly noticed he was there. His irritation quickly faded, replaced by worry. “Y/N, love, what is it?” 

You still didn’t respond, keeping your back turned with your hands clinging to the window sill to keep from falling. Spike approached you slowly and you thought you heard his footsteps, but part of you thought you were just imagining him. Why would he come for you? It was the middle of the day and the sun was high in the sky. A rush of guilt washed over you. He came here despite the danger of being burned and you didn’t even have a reason. You’d put him at risk for your own pitiful problems. 

“Darling, why won’t you look at me?” He took another step towards you, but stopped. The sun’s rays created a shield around you, preventing him from pulling you into his arms. “If you could just lower the blinds, that would make this far less awkward.” 

“You d-didn’t need to come here. T-the sun.” You stammered. You wanted to reach for the curtains, but you still couldn’t move your arms without your legs giving out. 

“A little sunlight isn’t going to stop from me from getting to you,” he said sincerely. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him rush to the window, the sound of his skin sizzling in the light made you let go of the ledge. Your legs buckled just as he got the curtains closed. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You had hurt him. All you had to do was reach up and shut out the sunlight and you couldn’t even do that. He burned himself just to reach you. 

“It’s alright. I’ve got you. It’s alright.” He held you up for a moment before sinking to the floor to hold you in his lap. “I’ve got you love, I’ve got you.” 

“Y-you shouldn’t be here, Spike. I’m not-” You hid your face from his view so he would see the tears. “I’m not worth all of this. There’s something wrong with me. One minute I’m fine and the next I’m like this and I don’t even know why. I don’t have a reason to feel like this. It’s like I’m… broken or something.” 

“You aren’t broken.” Spike said softly, tucking your head under his chin and gently rocking you back and forth. “You’re human.” 

He held you like that for a long while, not saying anything or even moving off of the floor. He didn’t make you look at him until he was sure you had relaxed enough. Putting a finger under your chin, he gently lifted your face to meet his. 

“I’m sorry about all this.” You sniffed, using your sleeve to wipe some of the dampness off your cheeks. 

“I don’t want to hear those worse from you for the rest of the day.” Spike gave you a small smile and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I would trek across deserts wrapped in a blanket if it meant being here with you. Every second is worth it.” Now, he lowered his lips down to yours for a slow, sweet kiss. When he pulled back, his eyes were shining with the soul of a man in love. “To me, love, you’re worth the world.” 

You stared into his eyes and knew that he meant every single word. While it didn’t chase away your doubts or the empty feeling in your chest, it helped you see that this feeling would end. And for now, that was enough. 

“I love you.” You whispered, pulling him closer. He kissed the top of your head. 

“I love you too, darling.” He hooked his arm under your knees and stood, holding you against his chest. “Now, why don’t I get you something to eat and we can spend the day in bed?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I’ll behave, I promise.”

“Spike.” You laughed lightly. 

“There,” He beamed, “I knew I could get a smile.” 

He carried you into your room and placed you on your usual side of the bed, laying your fluffiest blanket over top of you. Then he vanished into your kitchen, the sound of your cupboards opening and shutting reminding you that he had no idea where anything was. It almost made you smile. He came back in with a bowl of your favorite cereal, a class of milk, and a thin leather bound journal. 

“What’s that?” You wondered as he climbed into the bed beside you. He handed you the cereal and milk and put his arm around you, pulling you close. 

“Eat your cereal.” He ordered teasingly, opening up to the first page. You tried to look over his shoulder, but he pulled the book away, laughing. “Do you want me to read or not?” 

“What is it?” Your curiosity made your tone amused and playful. You were starting to sound like you again. 

“Well, ever since I got this pesky soul back, I’ve had an unbearable amount of feelings running about in my head, so I figured I could at least put them to good use.” 

“Spike, are they…?” You perked up with excitement. He smiled sheepishly. 

“Poems.” He looked down at seemingly endless pages of his writings and back at you. “They’re mostly about you, of course. I thought, maybe, you’d like to hear them. See if they’d make you feel a little better.” You were almost too awestruck to nod. 

“I’d really like that.” 

With your cereal in hand, you curled up beside him, laying your head back against his shoulder. He read softly and slowly, his gentleness with his words almost lulling you to sleep. The poems were beautiful, forcing you to stay awake if only to hear one more word. Spike felt you relaxed against him as he read and paused his reading to kiss your forehead, then your cheek, and lastly your lips. 

You felt the emptiness for a few more days, but each day, he was by your side, making sure you ate and gave yourself time to breathe. By the time you started to feel normal again, he’d read most of his poems and continued to write more and you were able to go for your evening walks without feeling exhausted. Your friends were more than supportive and helped you through it all while still giving you the space you needed. 

It wasn’t the last time an episode like this happened, but now you always knew that, no matter what, you’d never be alone.

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks; @kendahl0216

[prose-for-hire]

Face your demon

Pairing: Spike x reader

Request: Could you do A Spike x reader where the reader is in love with him, but doesn't show her emotions (except for getting easily flustered around him), but Spike overhears hears her talking to willow about it and he confronts her, ending in them being together?

Requested by: @wiccanindigo​

Requested tags: @fictionalhoomanofnowhere @artsymaddie​ @shy-ginger-in-the-graveyard​ @cameo-greaves​

​You were pretty neutral in public. Your face rarely shifted other than to a polite smile or perhaps a confused frown should the moment take you by surprise. Other than this human reaction, you would usually maintain a resting face. One that appeared to most as if you didn’t wish to be in their company. Or anywhere at all really.

You felt a lot. You really cared about your friends, the people you loved. It was just near-impossible to express this. At least, in a way that you were comfortable. It was much easier to hold people at a distance. That way, you didn’t risk rejection. Or painful, bitter emotions that you didn’t enjoy.

So, you tended to hide your emotional side completely. Rather than wrestle with articulating the way you felt. It wasn’t necessarily a conscious decision, just one that you lived with. You struggled expressing your emotions – not only on your face but also verbally. Any way, really. It could be so hard.

Luckily for you though, you had some very caring and empathetic friends. The Scoobies. They understood and gave you the time you needed – between fighting apocalypses of course.

You were sat in the Magic box with all of your friends around you. Buffy, Willow, Xander, Anya, Tara and Giles. You were characteristically just staring into the centre of the room as the usual antics played out around you.

You contributed now and again although not as passionately as the others, it must be said. You tended to bounce off of someone else’s point and repeat it if you agreed with it with a shrug. As if you would rather be anywhere but there.

You weren’t shy. In fact you came across as the complete opposite. Cool, collected. Near apathetic should your friends not understand how deeply you truly did care – you just didn’t express it as much as most. There was no need to gush in your book. You weren’t one to keep your heart on your sleeve and make the entire room look at it.

Well, that was until him.

Spike ran in, slamming the door shut behind him. It slammed so hard the entire store shook and he sauntered in as if it was nothing. It made the corners of your mouth tug into an almost-smile but you looked down to avoid anyone seeing.

There he was, your weakness. The one that could render you speechless. A flustered mess. A heat would rise in your cheeks and your voice would appear weak and just wholly unlike yourself.

You had it bad. He always did this, walking in with that swagger. Those cheekbones. That look…

His eyes were straight on you. As they always were. You were a mystery to him, one he was so desperate to figure out. You had noticed the way he always made his way to you. The way he dropped his voice and made comments about the others in the room in the hopes of you cracking a smile.

You spoke to him as much as you could, but often your words failed you. You didn’t want to give anything away. Couldn’t. You didn’t want him to tease you, reject you in such a painful way.

He was Spike, after all. He could have anyone he wanted you were sure of it.

The point was, though, that he wanted you. And you were too wrapped up in focusing on how to breath properly when he was around that you didn’t notice.

Spike found your resting face beautifully morbid. He found you to be strong-willed and the very little he sensed or heard from you he found himself clinging to. You would be stamped onto his brain for the rest of his un-life, he was sure of it.

He was in so deep. Thought about you constantly. Wanted to know what you were doing, what you were thinking. Imagined himself by your side. Taking you into his bed… oh, and I won’t even start on the dreams. They left him aching. Such deep, unending desire. For you. God, it could only ever be you.

“Alright, pet? Don’t rush to say you missed me, written on your face already” He smouldered in that way he did. Hoping for any kind of reaction.

You looked up at him before immediately looking away. A ghost of a smile on your face as you shifted in your seat. He took this as an invitation to sit beside you and so he did.

“Hi Spike” You just about managed before your voice wavered. You didn’t like the way he rendered you this flustered mess. But, at the same time you couldn’t help but completely love it.

Your usual cool demeanour gone. Lost in those beautiful eyes of his. You could happily live in his eyes for the rest of your life.

You managed to position yourself in your seat in such a way that meant he made up most of you vision, without it looking glaringly obvious to anyone else. He lived in your peripheral vision. At least this way a little part of him was yours.

You became a little brave and moved your eyes to look at him properly, no longer just from the side. He was beautiful. The way that t-shirt clung perfectly to his torso. The way his leather duster managed to land in such a relaxed way on his shoulders. Effortless cool. Or, that’s what you assumed.

You loved him. His looks. His personality. Just everything. You couldn’t escape it.

Something snapped you out of staring. Everyone’s eyes were suddenly on you. Staring.

“Huh?” You asked, feeling a heat rise in your cheeks as he turned to face you properly too. You had apparently managed to miss the entire meeting. Not one scrap of the plan had entered your head. You were consumed by him instead.

“Y/n? You sure that’s okay?”

“We’ll be fine on patrol, right love?” Spike smirked at the rest of the room and raised an eyebrow which made everyone reconsider.

“We can switch if evil dead makes you uncomfortable” Xander offered kindly which made spike glare. He wanted you to himself.

“No that’s good- uh, fine. It’s fine. I’ll patrol with Spike” you rushed out at a completely different pace than anyone was used to hearing you speak.

What you were supposed to be looking for, you didn’t know. You hadn’t been listening just focusing on regulating your breathing. Wiping the sweat from your palms at the proximity. He was sat so close to you. You wanted to just lean against him. Whisper how you felt.

You and Spike walked out into the cool night air. Mostly in silence, although you could almost hear the cogs in his mind whirring to come up with something to say. You didn’t realise but he was trying to impress you. Trying to get you to smile. He loved it when you smiled. Near melted.

He then finally asked something he had so wanted to say to you. For such a long time.

“We could, uh, blow this off, go for a drink?” He let the proposition hang in the air.

You didn’t even begin to consider this had been something more than a teasing joke because he didn’t want to be stuck patrolling anymore. Just wanted to rebel against Buffy’s sudden authority in his life.

“Yeah, because I’ve always thought you’d look great with a redwood through your chest” You spoke, referring to what Buffy would do to him should he leave you or the demon to run through the streets.

“Pet-”

“It’d make a pretty accessory. Bring out your eyes” You deadpanned and he just stared. Why were you like this? Why did your flirting so quickly descend into just being rude?

It was like a disease. You were riddled with it. Any sense that your mouth would spill the contents of your mind and something took over. Possessed you, began to say the very opposite of what you wished to say.

You wanted him to ask you out for a drink. Tell you that you looked nice, that he felt lucky to have someone like you to take out. Have on his arm. Show off. You wanted to loop your arms around him and embrace him. Kiss his lips. Have him in your bed. His body yours and only yours.

But, instead, you had just told him he would look better dead. Or, well, more dead. He had taken this as a firm no, you didn’t want to go out with him. He looked upwards, trying to stop the stinging at the back of his eyes before he nodded firmly and just shrugged.

“Whatever, let’s find this vamp”

Oh, right. It was a vampire. You were supposed to be looking for a vampire. That at least narrowed it down… kind of.

Both of you took turns in glancing at the person beside them. So desperately wishing to touch them. Have some kind of intimacy. It was hard having the one that you loved so close and yet emotionally so far away.

There was a distance. A canyon between you that you both wished to cross. But it was so hard. There would be no turning back.

You never caught up with the vampire you were meant to find and Spike walked you home instead when it got too late. You tried to thank him for the gesture but he had turned and walked away. Licking his wound at the rejection you had inflicted upon him without realising.

Despite the fact you had hurt him though, he had needed to make sure you got in safe. Protecting you from harm meant everything even if you wouldn’t give him the time of day.

It had been a couple of days since this unwitting rejection and you and Willow had arrived early waiting to meet with the others at the Magic Box. Giles had gone to pick up some order sat the back. Which left just you and your friend. Well, that’s what you thought anyway.

She was the only one that knew how you felt for Spike. She had seen you watching him, a new expression unlocked on your face. As if she had won a quest or something in a video game and been allowed to see it.

Conversation had quickly turned to this man that you were so in love with it managed to fluster even you. You near hid your face from your friend at even the implication you liked him. But you were comfortable that Willow was being supportive.

You discussed that you liked him. Truly admitted it out loud for the first time. Not realising that the man himself was stood around the corner listening. He loved to hear your voice and so had stayed back because you seemed to speak less in his company.

Spike’s jaw tensed as he heard you talking about this mystery man though. He had never heard you gush this way before. Stumbling over your words to describe such longing. You usually appeared so calm, collected. He wished to be the one that sent you weak at the knees in the way that this nameless idiot did. He guessed it was probably Xander.

Stupid bloody Xander. Gormless nit.

“Maybe, uh, you should tell him? You can’t know his feelings unless you try” Willow offered.

Spike guiltily hoped that you would have to face rejection so that he could comfort you instead. Spend more time with you, prove to you that you could trust him with your emotions. He so longed to have your attention. Your trust.

“I can’t… I-it’s too hard” You sighed and his spirits lifted, maybe this would be his chance instead. While you tried to build up your courage, he could show you how much you meant to him. How much he wanted you.

Nothing could have prepared him for what came out of your mouth next. There had been only a slight pause while you sifted through your emotions.

“He’s so- he’s… he’s Spike” You had no other description other than this spike-ness was all that you wanted. You near craved it. But also these words explained how hard it was. How trying to speak to him was near impossible. Willow nodded in understanding and patted your shoulder sympathetically.

“It could be good for you, y’know? Facing your, uh, demon…” Willow’s voice dried up. Turned into a little squeak. You looked up, confused.

There he was, as if your longing had been a magnet to the man himself. Your eyes bulged and your mouth opened in shock. The most your face had ever given away.

Willow stumbled over some excuse that neither Spike nor you heard before she left for the exit. Allowing you to both speak.

“I’m the bloke you’ve been harpin’ on about?” He said slowly. He did this only because he wanted to hear it from your mouth again. As if he wasn’t entirely sure if he had dreamed it or not.

“We don’t have to make it into a big deal… I’m sure I’ll, uh, get over it” You tried, avoiding the rejection you could feel coming.

“Don’t” He said quickly, “God, please bloody don’t get over it. You’d break a poor dead man’s heart if you did”

“What?” You asked, frowning in confusion. He couldn’t possibly feel the same way… could he?

“Don’t be daft, love. Asked you for a drink didn’t I? Trailed after you despite you not even pretending to take an interest. Been there just in the nick of time before somethin’ nasty ate you?” He reeled off things he had pretty much done in the last fourty-eight hours. It made you gasp with surprise. How had you missed this? “Tell me I haven’t bent over bloody backwards for even a shred of your affection,”

“Spike…” You looked away, it was so hard. You didn’t even know how to begin to say what you needed to.

“Please, don’t shy away. Can’t stand it when your eyes wander…”

“Spike, I…” He took your hand, nodding subtly to show that he was there. That he liked you, that he needed to hear it. Whatever it may be, “I love you”

Spike pulled you into him immediately, knowing this must have bee hard for you. He was beginning to understand. You were like him, petrified of the rejection. The idea that the one that held such promise and stirred such feeling could ruin everything. You restored his faith in love. Rekindled his affections for the notion as well as confirming that he loved you too.

He crashed his lips to yours, his reply to your words communicated in this way. And you understood completely. Lips moving against yours, a display of affection only for you. he was firm in his love but so very tender. He embraced you close, a hand along the small of your back that made you shiver and lean further into him. Deepening this perfect kiss.

You parted, somewhat reluctantly and just gazed at the other for a moment before he spoke.

“I’m just glad you don’t have eyes for the whelp” Spike grinned and it made your face brighten. A smile. One that he savoured as you rolled your eyes at him being so pleased you liked him more than Xander.

He took your hand in his and sauntered beside you. Chest puffed out and proud to have you by his side. As if you had just gifted him the entire world.

Now you just had to break it to your friends. There was no way you would be hiding this.

[fbfh]

I think you've horribly misread the situation [shitty roommate pt 2] - leo x reader

wc: 2.3k

genre: contemporary drama, you're definitly going to get second hand embarrassment, cozy fluff

pairing: leo x reader, attempted isabella x leo

reader: gender neutral, they/them

requested: hell yeah

warnings: mild swearing, roommate tries to steal your man once again, mentions of various mainstream vampire media (twilight, the vampire diaries etc.), brief mention of castlevania (even though i haven't seen it yet lol), breif mention of videogames and assassins creed, very mild delusion (roommate is secretly convinced leo is a vampire that's in love with her), attempted age gap relationship (she's 17 and leo's 19, he shuts that down real fast), very bad poetry

summary: You and Leo are both looking foward to spending a long weekend together, and Leo is determined not to let anything interrupt it, even if it means turning down your roommate's attempts to seduce him in the kitchen.

a/n: absolutley no hate or shade or judgement to anyone who has the same or similar traits as isabella!!!!!! at her core she's annoying because she's the antagonist, not bc of any isolated trait or traits

also she's shitty cause she keeps trying to steal your boyfriend?????

Edit: I forgot to mention before, but this is a college au where you're both still demigods, so you went to camp and on quests and stuff together

This weekend is going to be all about recharging. Recharging from the ridiculous back to back closing and opening shifts at work, recharging from having to redo that stupid project twice because your professor couldn’t decide on a clear way to define the criteria, and recharging from Isabella having her townie friend Regan over almost non stop to “completely shake up her look” as she put it.

Between the constant presence of someone you’d barely consider an acquaintance and Big Time Rush’s self titled album blasting on repeat out of her giant airpod shaped speaker, it’s been harder than usual to get in some effective self care. You have no idea how many more times you can hear the phrase “I’m going for Jade West meets Elena Gilbert, with just a little Buffy Summers” before you lose your fucking mind.

Thankfully, the hard part is almost over. There’s some minor holiday tomorrow on friday, so you and Leo both have a three day weekend ahead of you, which you intend to spend entirely together. You planned ahead, frontloading homework, chores, errands, and everything you could think of to remove anything that isn’t cuddling or playing video games and watching netflix together from your horizon.

This includes going straight from work to the grocery store to stock the fridge and get any snacks you and Leo want. You had texted him a while ago asking for anything he was craving, and head into the store with a concrete list. After a while, you circle around some aisles, avoiding the check out.

“I feel like I’m forgetting something,” you muse, knowing it’s untrue, but hoping to trigger a memory anyway. You can’t put it off any longer, finally checking out and heading back to your apartment. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t avoiding Isabella just a little.

You know bringing in all these groceries would be way easier with Isabella and possibly Regan’s help, but you just don’t have the social energy to talk to anyone, much less her, right now. By some miracle, you bring everything in yourself, and hope to get it put away before you see Isabella.

You turn to the freezer, putting away the ice cream. When you turn back around, you’re suddenly met face to face with Isabella, who has opened one of the boxes and is picking at a pastry.

“Hey girlie,” she says, elongating the hey.

“Hey,” you reply lethargically, putting the last of the groceries away. She looks at the pastry in her hand like she’s just noticing it.

“Sorry, I can’t help it, I’m italian.” She smiles, endeared by her own behavior. You have no idea what being italian has to do with asking before you open a box of your roommate’s food, but this really isn’t out of character for her. She brings up the fact that she’s half italian more than Lele Pons blames her behavior on being latina.

She’s wearing sweatpants that say chaser on the leg in red and gold varsity font, and a tight tee shirt that says “it’s okay to love them both” with silhouettes of the male love interests from one of the vampire shows she always watches. You collect the plastic bags to put in recycling, and see a piece of paper on the counter.

It reads as follows:

Drowning in my mind

No one hears me cry

Who was I before society

Before society put me in a pink dress

And handed me blonde hair dye

And told me to lose ten pounds or be labeled a freak?

The happiest people cry the most

Let the lyrics be your story

But I’m not like the other skinny blonde pretty girls

I’m

Different

-b.g. xox

You hold back a sigh.

“I think this is yours.” you say, handing it to her.

“Oh, it’s just some of my poetry I left lying around, that’s so embarrassing.”

I know, you think, you do that all the time.

“Did you read it?” She asks, hopefully.

“Nope.”

“Thank god, that would have been so embarrassing. My poetry is something really… deep, and personal to me.”

“Uh huh. Hey, I’m going to be doing a lot of self care this weekend, so-”

“Oh!” she interjects, eerily similar to Phoebe Buffay - you guess she’s been watching friends again - “I wanted to ask… is Leo coming over later?” Her voice is riddled with subtext, the expression on her face a little too invested in your answer.

“Uh, yeah. I told you the other day we’re spending the weekend together…”

She cuts you off again, a sudden, intense look on her face.

“When will he be here?”

You check your phone, scrolling through your recent texts.

“By 7 at the latest.” It’s around 6:40 now.

“Oh my god, I have to change,” she rushes back to her room, presumably digging through her recent additions to her closet.

You’re frozen for a minute after the interaction, left with a furrowed brow and the beginnings of a headache. You blink, then choose to reschedule processing why she feels the need to change for your boyfriend to a more convenient time. That’s enough of that for today. You don’t care what else happens, you’re not talking to anyone besides Leo for at least the rest of the day. You retreat to your room to finally shower and change into something comfy. As you pass by Isabella’s room, you hear her talking to Regan.

“...There’s something almost… supernatural about him.”

You bite back a laugh.

“Do you think he’s a…” Regan begins, ending the sentence with something too quiet to hear, but you’d bet almost any organ she said vampire.

So close. So, so close, and yet… here you are.

Not much later, Leo texts you to let you know he’s here. You read his text, and run out to hug him in the living room before even typing a reply. He picks you up, and spins you around. The embrace is warm and fulfilling and familiar, and you wish it would last forever.

“Hi, Sparky.” you murmur into his neck.

“Estrella…” he says, rocking you back and forth gently and pressing a kiss into your jawline, “I missed you so much.” He punctuates the sentence with another kiss, this one to your lips, and you smile more genuinely than you have all day. You’re about to agree when you remember the good news you’ve been saving to tell him in person.

“Guess what I got on sale for like, half off,” you start, excitedly, continuing at his invested expression, “the Assassin’s Creed bundle I showed you!”

“No way,” he starts, and you nod.

“I’ll go get everything set up, drinks are in the kitchen!” He watches you retreat into your room, disbelieving how he could possibly get someone as perfect as you to fall for him. He’s not going to question his luck. He grabs a couple caffeinated sparkling ices, and meets you in your room, setting down his bag and grabbing some comfy clothes to change into.

As you both get settled in, you fill each other in on all the ridiculous shit you’ve been through this week. You finally conclude the bizarre - yet somehow standard - Isabella escapades.

“So I will be avoiding all contact as much as possible,” you laugh.

“Yeah, no shit,” he agrees, “Consider me your human buffer.” You thank him, hugging him again and pressing a kiss to his lips.

The next couple hours are spent cuddling and finishing season 4 of Castlevania. Both reeling from the season finale, you agree this is a good place to take a break, get some food, and decide what game you should start with. It’s already 10pm, which most people would consider too late for dinner, but you have all weekend to fuck up your sleep schedules.

“Let’s review,” Isabella says, holding up two red lipsticks. She turns to Regan. “Which one?”

“That one,” Regan says, pointing to the one on the left, then turns to her list, and continues. “Here’s what we know; we’ve never seen him eat, and he never seems tired. He’s really smart-”

“Almost too smart,” Isabella adds, selecting black rose dangle earrings from her jewelry. Regan agrees, and continues.

“He’s almost hypnotically attractive, and his smile is a little too dazzling.”

“There’s something… supernatural about him. Like he’s not… all human.”

Regan writes this down.

“Plus he’s always wearing black and red, and those flowy button up shirts? It’s all adding up, Ree. That dream that someone was outside my window, the ring, everything…” She says, referencing the black and red cocktail ring she’d found with her stuff when she’d first moved, “I’m not saying it’s definite, just that… there’s a chance.”

“What about…” Regan says hesitantly, nodding toward your room.

“Please,” she scoffs, “he’s only with them to get close to me, like Damon and Caroline. Edward couldn’t have just approached Bella out of the blue, he had to infiltrate her friend group first, to seem less suspicious. Not to sound mean or anything, but they really don’t seem like the type someone… like him… would choose.” her voice gets dreamy when she mentions him.

In spite of having seen most mainstream vampire media almost as many times as Isabella, Regan still considers her the expert on these things, and decides not to point out that Edward didn’t infiltrate Bella’s friend group. Maybe it comes up in one of the retellings she hasn’t read yet.

“So, what now?”

Isabella sets down her lipstick, and turns to her friend.

“I tell him.”

Regan’s eyes widen.

“You’re going to tell him you know?”

“No… not yet. It’s too soon, we don’t have enough evidence. I’m going to tell him I know he’s in love with me, then once he’s secure in our relationship... we’ll see where it goes.”

She stands up, assessing herself in the mirror. She chose her outfit carefully; short red dress with black roses and black mesh collar, black rose bracelet to match her earrings, snug faux leather jacket, and black stiletto ankle booties with a very skinny heel, the zipper on the outside gold, not silver. She fluffs her wavy hair and turns towards the door. She looks back one more time, holding onto the doorway.

“Wish me luck.”

Leo enters the kitchen, seeing Isabella already there, leaning against the counter seductively. She’s wearing an outfit and jewelry this late at night that makes Leo wonder if she’s going to an emo tea party. He puts the takeout in the microwave. She’s still staring at him.

“Uh… hey.”

She lets out a dainty giggle, looking him up and down.

“... Hi.”

At a loss for words, and really wanting the awkward silence to be over, he continues, “Did you need something?”

“What I need,” she walks closer to him, tracing her finger over his collar, “is you.”

What the fuck?

His brain seems to stall for a moment, and she uses this opportunity to continue.

“I know why you’re here. I know that you’re only using them to get closer to me. I know-”

“Woah-”

“That you’re in love with me.”

Okay, double what the fuck.

She takes his stunned silence as shyness, and steps closer, putting her arms around his shoulders.

“You don’t need to play so coy, I-”

This time she’s the one that gets cut off. He grabs her arms and gently steps away, trying to make it abundantly clear that he’s not into this.

“Woah, okay, slow down. First of all, you’re 17 and I’m turning 20 in a couple months, so that’s a hard no. Second, I don’t know where you got this idea, but I am not dating them to get closer to you. We’ve known each other since we were like, 15, and have been through everything together. I’ve only known you for a couple months. I love them. Probably more than I’ve loved anything ever. I thought that was pretty obvious.”

He doesn’t want to be mean, he really doesn’t, but he can tell from the look on her face that she still thinks this is all part of some game.

“So why don’t I ever see you eat? Why are you so smart, and always up at night? I know what you are.”

He has to physically hold back a laugh. He takes a step back, and places his hands on the counter.

“Isabella, I have adhd. And I’m literally an engineering student. Why wouldn’t I be smart and have a shitty sleep schedule?”

She starts to protest, and he pulls out the reheated take out from the microwave.

“And for the record, I do eat.”

Exiting the kitchen quickly and retreating back to your room, he hands you your food.

“I got the game set up!” you say excitedly.

“Nice!”

You take one look at his face and can tell something happened. He sees this, and continues.

“I just had a very… interesting interaction with Isabella,” before he finishes the sentence, your head is already in your hands. You let out a groan.

“What did she do?” you mutter from behind your hands.

He pulls you into his lap, rubbing your back.

“I’m not totally sure,” you laugh, “but I think she thinks I’m secretly in love with her…” you’re both laughing before he can even finish the sentence.

“No…” you laugh, “no fucking way…”

“Believe me, I put an end to that as soon as it started.”

“Oh, I do.”

He runs his hand over your back, and you’re quiet for a moment.

“You know,” he continues, “I think getting our own place has definitely moved up the priority list.”

You couldn’t agree more.

[charliedawn]

Imagine being Spike's closest friend/advisor in love with him and him being completely oblivious about it

" Spike ! Where are you ?! We need to talk to you !"

You find the vampire in his crypt, his eyebrows barely raised in surprise.

" Y/N. Buffy. What a surprise ? So, what can I do for you on this fine evening ?"

He says with a small sarcastic smile. Buffy rolls her eyes and sits in front of him with her arms crossed.

" We need your help."

Suddenly, his eyes lit up in curiosity and the corners of his lips raise up a notch.

" The hunters want my help ? Well..Isn't that good news ?! Oh goodie ! I get it that my head gets to stay attached to my body another day.."

You sigh, not because of his sarcastic answer you had grown accustomed to, but because you know that deep down ? He is truly excited. His brain already calculating how to turn this situation to his advantage.

" So, what's the job ? Vampires ? Demons ? Witches ?.."

He asks with the back of his head resting on his hands and waiting for Buffy or you to spill the beans.

" Vampires. In your territory. We know you've been hiding some of them.."

Buffy cuts straight to the point and Spike arks an eyebrow, smiling innocently.

" Sorry. Can't help you. I don't know what you're talking about..Maybe you got the wrong vampire for once ?"

Buffy raises an eyebrow as well before crossing her arms on her chest expectantly.

" Blond ? Spiky hair ? Dark and brooding ? Nah. I think we got the right one. Now, where are they hidden ? Spill it out, or you get the stake."

She gets her stake out to show that she is serious, but Spike only chuckles as he stands up to look down at the slayer, his shirt barely protecting his ribcage frown the sharp end of the stake.

" Is that a threat or a promise ?"

You can see that Buffy is biting her lower lip, she is actually tempted to ask Spike for a moment after this..But then her eyes fall on you, and she knows that she can't do it. Not now. Not when she knows that you've fallen for him. Spike and her have passion, he is amazing in bed of course..but what you feel for him, it makes her think of what she feels for Angel. She can't do it. She takes a step back, but it's Spike that takes a step forward to whisper seductively in her ear.

" What do you say, if I help you, you give me a kiss ?"

You grit your teeths and finally snap, you take him by the shoulder to spin him around and punch him in the face. His eyes widen significantly in shock as he doesn't understand. You realize too late what you've done and take a couple of steps backwards before apologizing.

" I..I'm sorry. I need to go."

You run outside of his crypt and Spike turns towards Buffy for an explanation.

" What's gotten into her ?!"

Buffy sighs loudly in exasperation before answering the question of the perplexed vampire.

" You're an idiot, Spike. She likes you."

Spike doesn't seem to understand and frowns before repeating incredulously.

" She..She what ?"

Buffy pinches the bridge of her nose between her index and thumb, wondering how the vampire could be so daft sometimes.

" She. Loves. You. Spike."

She finally says. But, the vampire only blanks out for a moment before stammering again, wondering if he heard her right.

" I..I beg you pardon ? Her ? Me ? No. Can't be."

He shakes his head negatively and Buffy rolls her eyes before taking him by his black coat to push him forward.

" Go talk to her, you idiot ! Before you lose her !"

He is about to go when Buffy sighs again as he seems lost. She grabs his arm and asks him with a worried frown.

" Wait. What are you going to do ?"

He shrugs before getting out of her grip and replying with a small provocative smile.

" I'm gonna do what I shoulda done in the first place: I'll find her, wherever she is, tie her up, torture her until she likes me again."

Buffy's eyes widen, but before she could stop him, he's already gone. She only humphs disapprovingly before crossing her arms again.

" Don't blow it, Spike.."

She mutters before turning around to go search for the rest of the hidden vampires on her own.

You are running with glassy eyes, filled with tears. You know that your action was rash, impulsive..You can't even explain why you had acted like that. It wasn't you. You continue to run aimlessly and blindly through the tombstones until you hit something and fall backwards. When you open your eyes again, you see that you had collided with a man, a vampire to be exact, that smiles evilly as he looks down at you.

" Well well..Dinner is served it seems."

You look around frantically for your stake, but just as you are about to grab it, the vampire spots it first and stomps on it, breaking it in two. He then grabs you by the throat and seems amused by your attempts to breathe. You try to wiggle out of his grip and scream, but he covers your mouth and laughs darkly as he recognizes you.

" And not any dinner..A hunter at that..I've seen you run around with the other slayer in and out of Spike's crypt. Where are your friends now, slayer ?"

You feel your heart quicken as he opens his mouth wide. You close your eyes, but then a familiar voice interrupts the moment.

" Turn around."

The vampire has just the time to turn around that Spike stakes him. You hear his scream, but are too tired to open your eyes. Spike is by your side in a minute and carries you in his arms.

" Hey ! Stay with me, slayer ! You hear me !"

His voice is the last thing you hear before blacking out. Spike carries you back to the Summer household where Buffy quickly takes care of you. He wants to stay by your side, but Buffy gives him a stern look.

" Don't you dare, Spike. You are not welcomed in this house. This is all your fault. I don't want to see you ever again."

She slams the door in his face and her words sting him deeply, more than he cares to admit. But, he understands her anger and turns around to return to his graveyard. However, he lets out a shaky sigh first before looking up at your bedroom window. He can't even count the times you had opened your window for him, even when you knew how dangerous and unstable he was. Spike doesn't have any friends. But, if he could call someone that ? It would certainly be you.

The moment you wake up, you look around to see that night has fallen and Buffy is nowhere to be found. You don't wait for her before grabbing your vampire hunting gear and running outside to find Spike. You know that Buffy is going to be mad at you for meeting with him, but you have to tell him. Tell him that it wasn't his fault. Tell him that you had acted without thinking. Tell him that he is the only person who makes you laugh and brings a smile to your face when you're having a bad day. Tell him..Tell him..You have all those memories that suddenly come to you, memories of when Spike knew exactly when you needed to be cheered up and would stand in front of your window until you would allow him in. Memories of when he had scared the hell out of Buffy and Angel when paying you a visit and making them think that he was going to suck your mom's blood, only for you to intervene and save him..Memories that should be enough, enough for you to let go of him. Unfortunately, it only makes things worse, having to tell yourself every single day that what you are feeling is only a small crush, that it would go with time, only to come back stronger than ever every single time your eyes meet his. You finally get to the graveyard and stop when you see him, leaning against the door of his crypt, smoking, as if waiting for you.

He doesn't move, even though he heard you approach, and throws you one of his half-hooded glances that always makes your heart beat faster. That burning gaze, but so cold at the same time..Intense and sad, so very sad. You feel goosebumps forming on your skin at the simple eye-contact, and you haven't even spoken a word yet. Eventually, he smirks knowingly at you before throwing his cigaret to the ground and stomping on it.

" What do you want, newbie ? You came to check on me for Buffy ? Well, you can tell the slayer that I am still as dead as the day we met..Also, glad to see that you're still breathing. Not that I cared, but I wouldn't want the slayer to come knocking on my door, yelling how I killed her best friend."

He says with a mocking grin, but you're no fool. You see this gleam of hope in his eyes, hope that the other slayer is finally acknowledging him as a potential ally. Maybe knowing that Buffy is finally seeing in him someone dangerous enough to be looked after would mean that she would finally come knocking at his door with more than threats and insults ? Maybe she would even grow to like him ? Maybe..But, you know that it is only a dream. She would never love him. Ever. And no matter how dangerous or important he becomes, she would never consider him as anything but a threat, a nuisance. Sad. Especially since you know that he is a good man, but with a high taste for women that would never feel the same about him..

You sigh and answer with a small smile translating pity.

" No. I need your help."

He smiles, but you can still see the deception in his eyes.

" I see..And I guess that the slayer doesn't know you came here, does she ?"

You shake your head negatively and he sighs before leaning against a nearby tombstone.

" Fine. Tell me. Why would I help you ? Besides my usual loving kindness ?"

He sneers, but his eyes translate a certain curiosity as to why indeed you would set foot in his graveyard in the middle of the night. You walk forward until your noses nearly touch, your face a few inches away from him. Even if Spike can't breathe anymore, hasn't been able to for a long time, he can still feel his heart stop in his ribcage at your sudden closeness.

" W..What are you..?"

He starts, but is cut off by you slowly raising your hands on each side of his face. He closes his mouth in surprise and doesn't dare move, even when you lay your forehead against his.

" Here's what I want your help with, Spike. I want you to be happy, Spike. I don't care if you are a vampire, a demon, a monster..You stay someone who the Summer family learned to appreciate more than you know..You've helped them countless of times, more than anyone. Now, it's your turn. Let me help you. You need to concentrate on yourself. And I don't mean the emotionless cruel monstrous vampire with a tendency to speak in sarcasm, but Spike, the romantic poet, the sensitive artist, the one who speaks with his senses and who used to know how to see beauty everywhere.."

You trace your fingertips along the interior of his forearms, his biceps, his neck and end your path on his cheeks. You then see something akin sadness in his eyes. He's shaking and raises his own hands to take yours. He's finally letting his true emotions out and looks up at you with all the misery he feels painted in his beautiful dark eyes. And you smile, knowing that it is the true Spike that you are now facing..

" Here he is. The true Spike..William."

You say while tenderly stroking his cheek. However, he suddenly kneels on the ground, his head hanging low as he cries out.

" She'll never love me like this ! She loves the other me. The bad guy. The heartless vampire. The monster that makes her feel in danger and who is useful to her ! I have no choice. Otherwise, she would have discarded of me a long time ago..She wouldn't even have spared me a second glance before staking my heart !..Not that she hasn't already.."

You look at him with eyes full of sadness before kneeling in front of him. You then force him to look up at you and say without an ounce of hesitation.

" Then, she is the monster."

His eyes widen at your words and you grab him by the arms to force him to stand up with you as you explain.

" Think about it. She is killing someone by preventing you to be yourself. She's killing William, only leaving Spike. At the end, she would have stolen your heart and your life. Let's face it, Buffy will kill you if you are willing to give her everything you are. The true question is, will you let her when the time comes, or will you fight ?"

He clenches his jaw as he stares at you, wondering why you would be so determined for him to live ? Could what Buffy said be true ? He shakes his head..No. It couldn't be. He finally answers you with a sorrowful resolution.

" What is the point of living if love isn't there ?"

You suddenly frown and to his utter surprise, slap him. It takes a while for him to get over his shock, you take the opportunity to shake his ideas straight. You wouldn't let him die.

" Don't you ever say that again ! Ever ! Don't say such nonsense ! You've already fallen in love before, Spike. Three times. And you'll fall in love again ! Again and again ! You'll continue until you finally meet someone that will finally understand how extraordinary you are and how lucky they are to have you ! One day, you will get our of that grim graveyard and that day, you'll see Buffy for who she really is ! Just another woman that couldn't see the luck she had to have you ! Tall, handsome, downright dreamy guy with amazing hair !.."

He laughs at that last part and you smile, at least you could still make him laugh.

"..But you have to stop wanting to put an end to your life just because she was not the right one !"

Suddenly, Spike loses his smile and glares up at you before standing up and shouting angrily.

" When ?! Huh ?! When will I meet that miraculous person that will make my miserable life a bliss ?! I only fall in love with destructive women, cruel and manipulative temptresses ! Women that only use me or make me want to throw myself off a bridge ! I only know the dark chaotic love, the kind that makes you drown with the goddamn ship !"

His breathing quickens as he tells you his grief and curse. You wait patiently until he is finished before finally replying.

" Then, let's do it together."

Spike doesn't understand at first, he frowns in incomprehension at you while you intertwine your fingers with a smile, even with the tears that are rolling down your cheeks.

" Let's jump from a bridge together. Let's drown together. Let's die together if that's the price for you to love me.."

Spike finally understands and looks up at you with something new, close to pity but also linked with self-hatred for letting himself be moved by you, out of all people. He wanted Buffy to be here, saying those words..and yet, he can't help but be helpless as you utter those words, he wants to believe them so bad..but he can't. He knows you. He knows that you would do anything to help him, even pretend loving him. He wants to step back, run maybe..but you don't let him go. You would never let him go when you know that he may never come back..You insist, taking a step further towards him so he can see the determination in your eyes.

" Since neither of us will ever find love or peace. And since you have the firm intention to put an end to it all. Then let's do it together. This way, I'll stop waking up in the middle of the night, sweating and panting with only one thought: Is he okay ? That way, I won't have to stop myself from killing Buffy every time she tells me how much of an idiot Spike is to think she would ever love him. Or rush to warn you each time she says she's going to kill you..I want to stop loving you, Spike ! At least you are lucky to be able to live long enough to forget them or to find other soulmates out there ! Me ? I'm only human. I only have one chance. And turns out, he'll never be mine ! And I will never meet another one in my life ! So, be happy to be immortal and stop saying that you'll end your life ! Because I will never have peace until I know that you are going to keep living ! So, let's jump ! I have a stake, you have your inhuman strength. Tore me to pieces, break my neck, rip my heart right out of my chest..If I can't have you, and you can't have the one you want. If we can't love. Then, at least, let me die with you. I won't be able to live without you. So, please, let me help you..and help myself at the same time."

You sob and grab his hand to put it over your heart, so he can rip it from your ribcage if he so wishes. You are so upset that you don't feel his fingers closing on yours. When you raise your face with determination to tell him that you wouldn't let him die, you see him smiling: not his usual cold, sarcastic or mischievous smile. A genuine smile. One that thrills you and that makes you want to smile back. But what happens next is even better. He kisses you. He kisses you tenderly, a chaste kiss. He doesn't kiss you like Buffy, where the kiss is brutal, violent or even beastly, but a patient and soft velvety kiss. When he pulls away, you feel giddy and light-headed. You feel your cheeks warm up and your smile couldn't grow any wider. And Spike ? He softly laughs before smiling too and gently stroking your cheek.

" Six.."

He says in such a low voice that you nearly miss it.

" What ?"

He looks up at you and gives you a boyish grin.

" I fell in love six times. Not three. You forgot when I was still human.."

You know he is teasing you, but you still elbow him, which earns you a small chuckle.

" Womanizer.."

You finally call him and he gently wraps his arms around you before whispering near your ear almost sadly.

" But you're the only one who ever loved me back.."

You sigh before leaning against him. You stay like that for a while, until Spike asks.

" Could you please say it ?"

" Say what ?"

" You know.."

He seems almost embarrassed to ask and you finally understand.

" I'm always the one who says it first, and since I'm normally the only one who says it at the end..I would like to hear it first. Please."

" I love you."

You says with not an ounce of hesitation and he stares at you with deep black eyes and smiles, his eyes creasing enough to make some little wrinkles appear at the corner of his eyes. He's so happy that he asks you to repeat.

" I love you. I love you. I love you..And I'll say it again and again until you'll be tired of hearing it."

He tilts his head to kiss you again, and it's so true and beautiful that he asks himself how it's possible to be this happy ? Is that love ? The love that doesn't destroy but creates ? If it is, he wants it now and forever. He continues to kiss you and refuses to let go until morning. At last, Spike the Bloody and William the poet are both satisfied.

[therealvinelle]

Hello! Why do you think Carlisle likes Aro? (Love your meta btw!)

This blog lasted 25 days before becoming an Aro/Carlisle blog. The sanity was nice while it lasted, I suppose.

Oh well, I embrace my trash ship.

(Anon is referring to this post)

(This one is also relevant)

So, while on Aro’s end it was a case of “did the gods just give me my very own Enkidu?”, for Carlisle we must look at the circumstances. The Carlisle Cullen who walked into Volterra is not the Carlisle Cullen who works at Forks General.

Carlisle was a demon-hunting priest who brought his religion into his new life. Having no idea what he’d just become, apart from the obvious things like “I desperately want to kill people for their blood” and “I sparkle?!”, many of the things that are obvious to us would not be at all obvious to him. His only experience with other demons was the slum-dweller that killed him. It was brutal, and three other people from his parish were murdered as well. He’d been able to track the vampire down, something I can only take that to mean that the vampire used his parish for hunting grounds. He’s so horrified by what he’s become that he tries to destroy himself. This fails, and instead he finds a way out that lets him live without having to kill, and with that comes to the realization that vampires retain their souls (which is for another post).

My point being, Carlisle wakes up as a demon, and has no way of knowing how any of this works, nor of how to explain the fact that he is able to retain his soul. It’s telling that even after centuries of being a vampire he still thought something might be fundamentally different about him, as he chose to turn Edward by simulating his own transformation, even though it meant more pain for Edward. In other words, Carlisle was not guaranteed that his experience was universal. By the time we meet him in canon he’s wonderfully friendly to everybody regardless of what they eat, but I strongly doubt he got from point “Demons are monsters and I’ll rally a mob to lynch them!” to “Vampires are people who sadly eat other people.” right away.

So, you have freshly immortal Carlisle Cullen wandering around Europe with no way of knowing that other vampires are as (for lack of a better word) human as he is. How can they be, when they choose to eat people? (My personal headcanon is that he went by a Persephone theory, and figured that by resisting human blood he’d remained a man.)

It was this Carlisle who met Aro and the other Volturi. According to Edward (I unfortunately don’t have Twilight with me so I can’t quote his exact words), they were the ones who showed him that vampires can in fact be sophisticated.

Sophisticated. Not just as in Aro, Marcus, and Caius eat their virgins with some fava beans and a nice chianti, but as in they’re civilized and intelligent beings. Carlisle was no longer a one lone freak who somehow retained his soul while everyone else went full Buffy vampire, or any other such theory. I can’t even imagine the impact that must have had on a young Carlisle who would have been even lonelier than the Carlisle who found Edward in Chicago. That Carlisle at least had friends, this younger version had absolutely nobody.

Aro changed that.

More than being sophisticated, Aro turned out to be a kindred spirit, an absolutely brilliant mind and a generous host. Carlisle chose to live with him for decades, leaving only because of their dietary differences. And even if people disagree with me with all of the above, I don’t think anyone can argue that this one isn’t huge.

Of all the people Carlisle knows in canon, Aro is the only one he stayed with just for Aro’s own sake. Carlisle loves the Cullens dearly, but the cornerstone holding them together is their shared diet, and the fact that Carlisle turned four of them, the other two joined. He did not happen upon them and then like them so much that he decided to move in. As for his other friends, he cares for them all, but he didn’t share decades of his life with them.

Regardless of how we’re interpreting their relationship (as in, platonic, UST, or raging homosexual affair), I don’t think anyone can dispute that Carlisle and Aro are each other’s best friends.

But beyond proving that vampires aren’t all sewer-dwelling, priest-eating rascals, what exactly made Aro so special?

I’ll just list his qualities in no particular order.

Sophistication This guy is a lover of the arts and of knowledge. His gallery and library must have been the most extensive and diverse in the world, and it probably still is. I can’t even begin to imagine the wealth of knowledge and treasures that Aro must have collected over the years. If the Holy Grail exists within the world of Twilight, Aro has it. Where I’m headed with this, is that not only would Aro’s collection be the coolest thing ever to Carlisle, but also that this was a time when the number of books and an art collection was a sign of high class, of intellectualism, of all things fine and noble that was considered virtuous. Aro acts very much like wealthy European nobility, he even lives in Italy, the cultural epicenter of the Western world of old. He physically could not have been more impressive to Carlisle.

Kind of a continuation of the previous point: Aro is from Ancient Greece (well, he’s Myceanaean, but same difference to a “You predate Homer?!” starstruck Carlisle). Ancient Greece was the ultimate, perfect, civilization to Europe, and Carlisle got to Volterra just ahead of the Enlightenment. This alone would have made him so unbelievably cool to Carlisle.

Nerd I think this one speaks for itself. Carlisle is an unbelievable nerd, an inquisitive mind who’ll study anything and everything, and in Aro he found someone who also has an inquisitive mind and will study anything and everything. They’re both very intelligent. Carlisle went from being that sad whale that sings on a frequency no other whales can hear, to having someone who just got it.

His gift So you’re all gonna have to stay with me on this one. Aro’s gift is one most people would find very invasive, which as I touched upon in one of the posts linked above must be very isolating. And yet we know from canon that Carlisle has no problem at all with Edward reading his mind all the time, and more, if Aro reading his mind was a problem then Aro and Marcus would both have known, and I doubt their friendship would have worked out. So, I think that Carlisle not only didn’t mind having his every thought read, but that this was an actively good thing. Because what is less lonely than the company of one who knows you as intimately as you know yourself? To be friends with Aro is to be truly understood, known more deeply than anyone else can ever know you. And to someone who seeks companionship as much as Carlisle does, I imagine this is an extremely attractive feature.

Offer of friendship Carlisle would have been hopelessly lonely when he met Aro. And as no one else is mentioned as being close to him, Jane hadn’t even met him which I find pretty telling of how he interacted (or didn’t interact) with the Guard, and he wouldn’t yet have any of his other friends that he later made, he only had Aro.

He enforcers a law that keeps the known world from descending into chaos Human civilization wouldn’t last a day without the Volturi. There would be nothing stopping vampires from taking out entire villages in one go, immortal children would be everywhere, and the newborn armies would spread like wildfire. In the world of Twilight, the Volturi are a necessary evil. And Aro is their leader. The fact that he not only keeps the world together, an ungrateful task with no end in sight, but had the idea to create a law in the first place would make him all the more amazing to Carlisle.

And I’m sure there’s more that is currently slipping my mind.

Just, Aro is on every level the most impressive, awe-inspiring, and dare I say dazzling, that anyone can be to Carlisle. And he came into Carlisle’s life at the best possible moment. If he’d agreed to do the animal diet, Carlisle would have stayed. If he wanted to seduce Carlisle, I think he’d succeed. I also think that their time together was far more formative for the person Carlisle became than anyone gives Aro credit for.

(And if Carlisle had never found anyone who’d share the diet, he would eventually have returned. I imagine Aro thought the same, but that’s for another post.)

Oh, and last bit - in Breaking Dawn we get this beautiful moment where Carlisle learns that Aro robbed the British royal family, and he just goes, “yup, that’s my guy”. Even after Eclipse, he remains fond of Aro. I mean, there’s also the fact that he’s been lugging around this giant painting for centuries, even at a time when he didn’t have a house and I can only speculate as to where he was keeping it.

Of course, over the course of Eclipse and Breaking Dawn everything goes to hell, but that’s for another post.

TL;DR, Carlisle went from a priest’s son to living with an evil vampire overlord for decades because he’s just that great, in the present he keeps a giant painting of him in his office. I feel it’s safe to assume he likes the man.

(Edited on the 13th of April to fix some phrasing and add a link)

[oveliagirlhaditright]

Summary: In thinking that he and Buffy are probably going to make love soon if they don't go out, instead of staying in (something that Angel's not sure that Buffy's ready for), he wants to make sure that the two of them do go out on a date. But when they end up at an olden time inspired candle making attraction at Sunnydale's one amusement park, Angel once again wonders if his attempts at keeping Buffy out of the darkness will just inevitably pull her into it. As, for one thing, this place reminds him too much of his past, the setting is romantic, etc. And that's just the tip of the iceberg of Angel's scattered thoughts and things going on with him this day. A season two Bangel fic.

Light in the Darkness

"I should leave," Angel bit out, as he stood awkwardly beside Rupert Giles—waiting for Buffy to join the both of them in the library—and resisted with all his might the urge to rip the man's throat out.

In many ways, Angel had never been close to Giles, since it was clear that he was so mistrustful of him and always waiting for him to reveal his true colors when Buffy wasn't around. And this pompous attitude in one so much younger than Angel—and yet not one of the children, so he might forgive and forget--didn't endear him to the Watcher at all.

He'd started to make strides to improve his relationship with the Council's dog for Buffy and Buffy alone. But now in learning that the Watcher's Council was holding his childe captive… and Giles knew this and had done nothing, Angel felt any favor he had gained for Giles quickly fading away.

Giles opened his mouth, Angel saw—no doubt about to tell him to do exactly that—but before he could get the words out, Buffy finally arrived on the scene and hopped up to Angel. And almost at once, he felt some if his bad mood evaporating as he smiled ever so slightly at her.

"Sorry, I'm late, Angel! But are you ready to go to that new candle attraction?" the Slayer beamed.

Angel thought that Buffy herself looked like she was ready to match whatever candles they might make together: and knowing her, that was surely the point of her outfit. She looked very cute, in a short pastel yellow dress with baby purple leggings and clear shoes. He also noted she'd put those baby blue clips in her short hair that seemed to be all the rage with teenagers these days.

"Now, see here, Buffy! Shouldn't you be patrolling first?" Giles argued with his Slayer, while fidgeting with his glasses. And if that didn't give Angel another reason to hate the Watcher right now. He growled low in his throat.

"No, Giles!" Buffy protested, horror clearly written across her face. "If I patrol now, the amusement park will be closed by the time we're done! Angel and I’ll go out now and patrol after our date. Promise!"

She was giving Giles the puppy-dog-pout (something that Angel had been victim to a few times himself, and lost many a battle with Buffy because of), and he knew that the man wouldn't be able to hold out.

Finally, he relented: "Oh, alright! But you'd better be double thorough with your Slaying report to me tomorrow!"

And taking that as the dismissal it clearly was, Buffy grabbed Angel's hand—and he was glad that he was unable to blush as a vampire, as he would surely have been doing just that now with her innocent touch—and escaped with him out of the library.

The candle making event was a new attraction that had just been added to Sunnydale's one amusement park (for the time being, anyway. Angel had the feeling that eventually demons would destroy the entire place. That was just how things worked in this town). And when Angel had suggested that Buffy think of a date night for them, she had been adamant that they try this.

Angel thought that that was probably just because it was one of the few new things that Sunnydale had... But maybe also because the attraction was decorated a lot like the time he had grown up in—though thankfully, Angel could tell Buffy wasn't dreaming of being a princess again—and maybe because she suspected he had used to make candles some. And he most definitely had, back in the day. But it had most definitely been eons since he’d done so, though he didn't mind learning the craft again with Buffy. It would surely be fun.

As for Angel himself, he had most definitely wanted to go out with Buffy lately, and not stay in… because he knew that they were getting too close to making love. Coincidentally, he'd almost taken her virginity at a carnival not that long ago, when he'd been under a lust spell and she'd been under a pride one. And while Angel did think if Buffy was old enough to die for the world, she was certainly old enough to make her own choices… he still found himself wanting to delay the inevitable here, if for a moment longer, to try and make sure she didn't rush into something she wasn't really ready for. And so that when they finally did come together, hopefully it was something really special.

"Angel…" Buffy whispered his name now—pulling him out of his thoughts—as the two of them were already inside said candle store and making said items together, after having been given a lesson by one of the vendors. "Is everything… is everything peachy? I felt like when I came in the library there earlier, that you might have been thinking of clocking Giles a good one."

It took everything Angel had within him not to crush the green candle he had just crafted at Buffy's question. He tried to remind himself that he didn't even really care about this childe of his: they'd never had a bond, and he'd been coursed into the whole thing, anyway. But the sire/childe bond was strong. And really, it was the principle of the matter: that now his childe—his!—was being tortured day in and day out in the Watcher's Council's sick games, instead of being put out of his misery, like he should have been. And he could feel his childe's pain.

"Buffy… I don't know how to tell you this," Angel admitted. Looking at all of the candle samples directly ahead of him, so he didn’t have to see her face as he debated whether he wanted to say any of this or not. "Part of me doesn't even want to tell you, or wants to lie."

"Then that's the exact reason you should tell me, Angel," Buffy said now with an urgency to her voice, as she took one of his hands and looked deeply into his eyes, as she stood on her toes. "What's going on?"

He tried to stroll away from her, to gather his thoughts into words, but Buffy wasn’t having it. The best he could do was run a hand through his hair before he reluctantly settled on, "The Watcher's Council has someone I sired… and instead of just staking them, they're torturing him over and over again—to train up the future Watchers—and I can feel his suffering."

It took Buffy a moment to react, like Angel thought it might. At first, she narrowed her eyes, as if wondering why it was a bad thing at all: since this was a vamp. But in just a second, she empathized with Angel and pulled him into her embrace. "Angel, I'm so sorry," she whispered, as she kissed his chest. "Is there anything we can do?"

"No… no there's not." Not anything that wouldn't get his Slayer killed, anyway, and Angel would never allow that. "I'm just… furious. And I hate that Giles let this happen when he could have stopped it," Angel let slip out before he could stop it.

"Giles did what?!" Buffy demanded. And Angel could literally feel Buffy’s body temperature heat up with her fury.

“It’s nothing, Buffy,” Angel contradicted the words he had just said to her, he knew. But he really didn’t want to get into how he’d created this vampire when he’d gotten trapped in a different dimension. And the only way out was through the person he’d sired... And how the man wouldn’t let him out unless he did sire him.

But even more than all of that… Angel had been desperate to be free because he’d just started to watch Buffy after she’d been called in L.A.—thinking he was protecting her—and even though he hadn’t wanted to add any more blood to his name, he’d rationalized that he’d been doing this newest sin to help Buffy in the long run. “

“Giles… I guess he did what he had to do, so the Watcher’s Council wouldn’t open an investigation into him and everything going on here. And I didn’t really care about this childe of mine that much, anyway,” Angel shrugged.

Angel could tell that Buffy was giving him a good once-over, trying to detect any lie he might have just told. So it was good for him that he was a very good liar, wasn’t it?

Or so he thought, anyway, until Buffy started working on more of the gorgeous white candlesticks she’d created and muttered, “That’s literally the opposite of what you were just saying, and the fury I saw earlier. But I suppose if you want to let it go, it’s fine. Lord knows I’ve had to let go of my own fair share of things as the Slayer.”

Angel couldn’t hold back the smirk that came to his lips as Buffy’s words registered in his ears. He didn’t give his girl enough credit. She was too clever. And possibly knew him too well.

Though it was because she knew him too well, that Angel instantly felt himself sobering. Suddenly, he didn’t know if this date had been the best idea... This darkened room with candles everywhere, even though they were in public, was much too romantic. And he was once again imagining taking Buffy and doing things to her that would make her scream in pleasure and pain. The demon within him absolutely thrilled at the prospect.

Furthermore, though Angel hadn’t intended it, instead of doing the smart thing and postponing this date when things had hit the fan between him and Giles today, he’d instead unwittingly started to drive a wedge between her and her Watcher. And that was something he’d never wanted to do, since no matter what he and Buffy were—or what her destiny was, or how short her life might be—he’d always wanted to give her things, not take them away.

Almost to prove what a poison he was, Angel noted that the two colored candles he had made were green and black—in comparison with the white ones that Buffy had made, painting her like the angel, and definitely not him. Green meant life... But the way he had subconsciously moved to hold the two candles in his hands, it was almost as if he was about to cover the green one with the black, to try and completely snuff out any sight of it. And the vampire couldn’t help feeling like that’s what he was going to do to Buffy’s life in the end. He was a cancer, and he was going to choke her.

Buffy must have realized that he’d become entranced with his candles… Because suddenly leaning over his shoulder, she asked him with a smile in her voice, “You know what your colors are making me think of?”

“Kwanzaa?” Angel ventured, knowing that Buffy would have never gone to the dark place that he had. “If I make a red one, that is?”

“…Definitely a good thought,” Buffy acknowledged then, striding away from Angel with the cutest blush staining her cheeks. “And probably better than my idea. In fact, I feel really stupid now. Forget what I was going to say. Knowing you, you wouldn’t get the reference, anyway.”

Well, color him intrigued… err, no pun intended. Or, then again, maybe it was. He could learn to quip as well as Buffy, after all.

And how amazing it was, that she could always turn his mood around so swiftly. How he loved her… And one day, he would tell her. He would.

“Okay, Buffy. You can’t leave me hanging like that. Now you have to tell me. If you don’t tell me, no more kisses for you for a week,” he named his condition. And then the vampire had to laugh when Buffy glared at him and stomped her feet at the threat, like he knew she would. It was good to know that he was so desirable…

“Fine! But no laughing! And if you don’t get the reference, I warned you you wouldn’t, you oldie, you! The green and black remind me of that Disney movie ‘Pete’s Dragon.’ Because, well, the dragon was green with black scales. It also helps that there’s a song in the movie called ‘Candle on the Water,’ and we’re making candles. And the colors we’re talking about are your candles. Happy?!”

Huh. Angel could see why Buffy would make that connection. He had, actually, seen that movie. Or at least part of it... It was probably one of the few in the last century that he had, because the idea of combining live-action and animation had been so bizarre to him, that he had had to see how Disney might attempt it. The aforementioned song had also been quite pretty, he would admit.

“Buffy, are you saying you’ll be my ‘Candle on the Water?’” Angel couldn’t help teasing his girl more. He couldn’t help it (even if he knew he might end up well dusted for it). The Slayer was just too cute when she was flustered. But even though he’d posed it as a joke, a large part of him was serious in asking her that question. It was, after all, a very romantic song. And it would be nice to know that the girl he’d loved since he saw her would be willing to guide his way if he ever got lost. He did often drown in his guilty thoughts, Angel had to acknowledge.

But Buffy didn’t seem embarrassed in the slightest. Instead, she raised her eyebrow—seeming to ask Angel if he’d finally gotten it—and indicated all of the bright candles she’d made. “What do you think I made all these blinding candles for, cryptic guy?—though I guess in this case, maybe I was being cryptic girl—but do you think I send out smoke signals for just anyone?” Buffy smirked at him. And it was a very welcome thought, for all that it meant.

Interesting. Very interesting. Angel had thought he had partly been planning this date for specific reasons, but it seemed as though Buffy had had her own plans all along, too. What a pair they made...

For the love he felt radiating from her—a love she hadn’t said in so many words yet (except the one time he’d somewhat forced her to say it, when he’d been about to reveal stuff about Dru; he didn’t fully count that), but knew she would when she was good and ready—he could do nothing else but pull her close and kiss her like she’d never been kissed before. A side of Angel did try to keep in mind that they were in public, and not to get too crazy, but it was Buffy, and it was always hard to remember anything when he was with her like this. She always stole his unneeded breath.

He couldn’t help feeling, though (when they pulled away from each other), that where before he’d been worrying about some of their earlier kisses—that spoke of the unfailing lust between them, that he wasn’t ready to completely unleash with her yet—this one was all about love. And how beautiful that was… as well as fitting, with what they’d just been through, and what Buffy had offered him with her promise. How his un-beating heart soared.

Reluctantly, however, he had to remind his girlfriend that it was a school night. “Come on, Buffy. Let’s package up these candles and get you home. We don’t want Joyce calling the police, looking for you. I’ll patrol for you tonight.”

Buffy looked as unwilling to leave him as he was her. But eventually, she gave a world-weary sigh, wrapped up her candles, and then took Angel’s hand, before leading him towards the exit. “You’re right, Angel,” she said. “Let’s get out of here before my mom does do the drastic. But, hey: at least I know that if my mom ever did something like that, to have me unwittingly picked up by the po-po… you’d find me. Right?”

Angel grinned. He knew what Buffy was asking, uncertainly, with her last question (as she nervously played with her fingers, while they checked out): If he’d be her “Candle on the Water”, as she was his.

Dropping a kiss to her temple, he gave her his earnest answer “Always, honey. Always.”

Author’s Note: The ending of this definitely got a lot happier and fluffier than I thought it would.

Originally, the idea for this story (that randomly came to me while I was half-asleep) was for it to be sort of foreboding and hint at the later stuff to come in S2. And it definitely has that, but it doesn’t end with it. And maybe that’s okay. I mean, they’re not there yet. So perhaps it’s alright that there are only hints of it.

But the moment I had Buffy mention “Candle on the Water,” it was all over, in keeping fluff out of here. And I don’t think I really care. LOL. Let’s give these two SOME more moments of happiness before the shit hits the fan: Lord knows they need it, since canon can never give them a break.

The vampire that Angel sired in this is a reference to something that DID happen in one of the classic comics.

Also, Angel having issues with Giles is inspired by that somewhat being true in the Buffy the Vampire Slayer novel “How I Survived My Summer Vacation,” where those two did have some problems working together in the summer between Buffy S1 and Buffy S2 while Buffy was away. Some of that is for reasons I detailed here: Mainly in that Giles kept thinking that without Buffy there, Angel would reveal his “true self” or “true intentions” or whatever, and betray them all. And Angel, in his own words, hated having to defer to someone so much younger than himself, or something like that. LOL. As a whole, Angel in that book kind of felt… a bit wilder? But I feel that kind of makes sense. Because he’d only just decided to try this “being good” thing. And I think the more time he spent with Buffy, and humans in general, the more human he became. And I tried to replicate that here a bit: with the sense that Angel is maybe a tiny bit wilder than in some of my S3 fics, at least.

I also just wanted to try my hand at a S2 Bangel fic, as I realized I haven’t done that yet. S2 is so important for them, of course. And beloved by many (and I definitely get why. It’s even my favorite season of the show). Though I will admit it’s not my favorite season for Bangel, if that makes sense. I do prefer them in S3 and post-S3 as S2 is a bit too sexual for my ace self. Oops. But it was definitely fun trying them out in S2, and trying to see how they’re the same as they are in S3, and how they differ.

Oh. Buffy almost losing her virginity to Angel at a carnival, because he’s infected by the lust Seven Deadly Sin and she’s affected by the Pride one, IS something that happens in the book “Carnival of Souls.”

[impalementation]

spike, angel, buffy & romanticism: part 4

part 1: “When you kiss me I want to die”: Angel and the high school seasons

part 2: “Love isn’t brains, children”: Enter Spike as the id

part 3: “Something effulgent”: Season five and the construction of Spike the romantic

* 

“But I can’t fool myself. Or Spike, for some reason.”: Buffy and Spike as a blended self

Before I get into seasons six and seven, it’s worth asking: why would the show do all of this? Why would it spend all of this time developing a supporting villain and joke id character? Why would it give him a romantic arc? I see people say that the writers only gave Spike these storylines because he was popular or they wanted to keep him around, but even that being the case, there was no need to give him the specific arc that they did. It’s more than possible to read meaning into the story that they chose from the array of possible options. 

Here is the thing about the id. It’s not actually something separate from you. It’s not a ravenous monster you can blame your weaknesses on while remaining pure and dignified. The id is part of you. The immediate and enduring appeal of Spike is, I suspect, strongly influenced by the fact that the things the id wants are so very human and sympathetic. His foibles and mistakes are often painfully familiar, even exaggerated through vampirism as they are. In fact, it’s precisely because Spike is allowed to show a full range of reactions to love, because the writing is under less pressure for him to do the “right” or dignified thing, that he can at times be compelling in ways other characters can’t. If Spike just did nasty things, his appeal wouldn’t be much more complicated than the appeal of Angelus, who people tend to like as a villain or storyline rather than as a relatable character. But Spike doesn’t want to dismember nuns or construct elaborate murder tableaux. He wants familiar things like love, identity and meaning, even if the ways he goes about getting them can reflect people’s worst impulses. 

Which brings us to Buffy, and Buffy’s story about growing up. Buffy is Buffy’s show, which means that every writing choice tends to revolve around her arc in one way or another. And this goes for Spike’s storyline even more than most. In the final three seasons of the show, the writing finally engages with how inextricable the id--and all of its impulsive, inarticulate romantic desires--really is from a person’s self. So instead of keeping Spike at a comfortable distance, both Buffy and the writing begin to take him seriously. They begin to invite him in.

Starting in season five, it’s telling how frequently Buffy herself projects on Spike, rather than just the writing setting them up as mirrors. She tells him that he’s the “only one strong enough” to protect her family, and later assigns Dawn specifically to his protection. In “Spiral” she describes him as “the only one besides me that has any chance of protecting Dawn.” This is a very intimate role that she otherwise only assigns to herself (and which is not really based on pure practicality, considering that she’ll later describe Willow as her “big gun”--yet never gives Willow the task of protecting Dawn). She tells him that he cannot love, which is the thing she fears most about herself. Her protests that Spike is a vampire, and thus cannot express or want human things like love, mirror her lamentations that as the Slayer, she cannot have a normal life.

From the Gilliland Gothic double essay:

More than any of her other lovers, Buffy and Spike overlap one another so often that at times their character arcs become nearly indistinguishable. With Angel, Buffy traveled a parallel path in attempting to master self-control. With Riley, her journey ultimately took her in the opposite direction. With Spike, Buffy’s journey is most closely shadowed, in that her interactions with him in many ways can be seen as metaphors for her feelings about herself.

So now Spike is multiple things. On the one hand, he’s the soulless id he’s been since season two. His vampiric behavior represents a morally uninhibited way of reacting to romantic frustrations, among other things. But on the other hand, his vampirism now also marks him as like Buffy, not merely her opposite.* Nor is he only her mirror in the realm of romantic love. The part of him that is a vampire is the part of him that is supernatural (ie, Romantically larger-than-life), that sets him apart from regular people, and dictates how he can and cannot behave. Just like Buffy’s slayerness. His vampirism is what makes him capable of protecting Dawn, while also making him (supposedly, according to Buffy) incapable of human feeling--again, just like Buffy’s slayerness. Instead of Buffy’s Slayer side being aligned with Angelus, who was an unmitigated evil, it becomes aligned with Spike, who is something more complicated. 

*(Though it must be noted that this was a process that began in season four, with the show aligning Spike with the Scoobies by making him a victim of the Initiative. Spike being supernatural suddenly marks him as non-normative, just like the Scoobies, in contrast to the institutional conformity that the Initiative represents. The evolution towards treating the Romantic supernatural as something positive and associated with identity plays a key role in transitioning the show to the more complicated attitudes of the last three seasons.)

This shift in the show’s attitudes towards the id affects how Spike is used. In “Blood Ties” for example, Spike assists Dawn in breaking into the Magic Shop and in “Forever” he helps Dawn resurrect her and Buffy’s mother. In both cases, Spike could be read as embodying impulsive behavior that Buffy is supposed to be better than. Yet both cases specifically involve Spike helping Dawn, who is repeatedly portrayed as Buffy’s human side. As Buffy says in “The Gift”: “[Dawn]’s more than [my sister]. She’s me. The monks made her out of me. [...] Dawn is a part of me. The only part that I--”. In other words, Buffy’s id becomes closely tied to her humanity, even going so far as to become its safeguard. “Blood Ties” ends with Buffy affirming her connection to Dawn, which Spike’s rule-breaking directly enabled, and “Forever” ends with Buffy acknowledging how desperately she wants her mother back too, and becoming closer to Dawn as a result. (Compare to “Lovers Walk”, where Buffy acknowledging her id results in her breaking away from Angel, not drawing closer to anyone). Or in “Intervention”, Spike building the Buffybot directly parallels Buffy’s own anxieties about what she thinks she should be. She thinks she’s losing her ability to love, and that effusive fakery is her only recourse (as she said in “I Was Made to Love You”: “Maybe I could change. [...] I could spend less time slaying, I could laugh at his jokes. I mean men like that right? The joke laughing at?”), a fear that even has some merit, given that her friends cannot tell her and the bot apart. Instead of Buffy and Spike having separate arcs in the episode, Spike learning the difference between real and fake dovetails with Buffy’s own relationship to her realness and fakeness. It turns out that neither of them want a bot version of Buffy. They want real emotion, things like sacrifice and heartfelt gratitude. If even Buffy’s id would let itself be killed for Dawn, then maybe she has nothing to fear from herself. Maybe there is some beauty in the emotional part of her nature that she thinks she must repress.

In other words, part of the writing (and Buffy) fully engaging with romanticism and the id, means engaging with the ways they can be bad and good. There’s this weird thing that happens with Spike as soon as he falls in love with Buffy, where suddenly his actions are more uncomfortable, and to many, off-putting, because their object is Buffy (instead of another vampire like Harmony or Drusilla, who either enjoy the same vampiric things he does, or the audience might be inclined to see as a moral nonentity regardless). His comic id quality becomes somewhat darker and more serious, almost like the way Angel’s early season two darkness becomes more serious after he loses his soul. But at the same time, Spike’s actions are also more intriguing, sympathetic, and even noble...because their object is Buffy. It makes no sense that a soulless vampire should not only fall in love with the Slayer, but genuinely attempt to transform himself into someone worthy of her love. And yet that’s exactly what Buffy inspires him to do. By loving Buffy Spike’s dual nature, and the dual nature of his romanticism, is thrown into relief: it’s something that can be selfish and creepy, yes, but also something that hints at the idea that real romanticism does exist. Something worth feeling romantically about does exist. Thus the writing can at once criticize, say, the way the chivalric mindset conflates love and suffering, while also suggesting that there are kinds of love it’s worth being transformed by. (Meanwhile, Spike’s fumbling bewilderment over how to love Buffy, and what the rules of loving people correctly even are, creates a human middle ground between monstrousness and heroism). By leaning into the way that Buffy and Spike have been used as mirrors for three seasons, and introducing the mythology-bending idea of Spike being in love with Buffy, the writing is able to fully engage with this complicated, contradictory nature of love and romance.

All of which is to say. Spike becomes a potential love interest, and is given a convoluted inner conflict between monstrousness, humanity and heroism, in precisely the season in which Buffy begins to reckon with her own inner conflict between her darker impulses, her human reality, and her supernatural role. It’s no coincidence that season five opens with Dracula, an icon of romantic vampire mythology, tempting Buffy with darkness and promising her insight into her nature. Or that a vampire kidnaps Dawn--again, her human half--in the next episode. Or that the season’s antagonist is a super-strong blonde woman who wants to destroy Dawn instead of protect her. Or that she says goodbye to Riley, the boyfriend who embodied her hopes for a more normative way of being (notice how Riley is progressively destabilized by everything non-normative about Buffy’s life, and provokes those anxieties Buffy expresses in “I Was Made to Love You”). Over and over in season five, Buffy fears that her Slayer half is cold, destructive, and otherwise dangerous. That these Romantic things like gods and vampires have it in for Buffy’s vulnerable humanity. Yet Buffy’s vampire id simultaneously gives lie to these fears by proving itself capable of heroism and genuine human feeling.

In other words, Spike becomes a potential love interest in a season that treats the Romantic--ie the grand and mythical--as something more than just an attractive lie to be disabused of. Rather, the question that season five seems to posit to me, and which will not be fully answered until the end of season seven, is this: once you do clear away the attractive lies, once you accept the hard realities, once you’ve seen the darkest underbellies, what are the things that are left that are truly grand and beautiful? What are the stories that are really worth telling, and the heroes that are really worth having?

And the show asks and answers these questions on both a very personal level, and a more meta, systemic level. On the personal level, Buffy and Spike are forced to confront their illusions not just about the world, but about themselves. They are made to ask themselves what constitutes a heroic role or a demonic weakness, versus basic, unromantic humanity. And on the meta level, the show asks questions about our expectations for how both love stories and chosen hero stories are supposed to go.

part 5: “Everything used to be so clear”: Season six and the agony of the real

[heathenarmyimagines]

Title: Find Us

Summary: (Y/N) has done her job, now Ivar must do his.

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten

Taglist: @ubbesgirl, @shewolf2000, @tis-itheapplepie, @atequila, @demoncrypt1066, @greennightspider, @badbitsh13, @fireismysaftey, @minarawr, @laketaj24, @hvitserksgirl, @blahblahcookiesdoma, @fabulous-peasent, @sforsammmmmi, @minmiin1d, @courtrae89, @letsloveimagines, @tomarisela, @titty-teetee, @beyond-the-ashes@elenawrit, @mblaqgi, @whenimaunicorn, @chuflisworld, @mystruggledlife, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @syreni-dea, @trashqueenbitch, @alykatv, @mbaku-babygirl, @perfectus-in-morte, @beyond-the-ashes, @neeadinghugs, @readsalot73, @triumphantreturnofpies, @anarchy-is-coming, @tephi101, @alicedopey, @ivarslittlebadgirl, @jtrstp, @nejijjeoroo, @charlylama, @ivartheblessed, @captstefanbrandt, @fabulouschrissi, @ivarsrideordie, @3x5gurl, @the-writer-appreciation-blog, @lolabee9, @captainfoxy22, @young-ugly-god, @im5ftbutmythroat66, @bribyyy, @irishhiggins, @cadetomlinson, @keclleon101, @slutforragnarssons, @ltkeke, @meeeeeeeeeps, @lille-kanin, @opalscarab, @ssraven7, @ivarandersen, @concretewaywardangel, @funmadnessandbadassvikings, @sharon-is-tired, @cadetomlinson, @mystruggledlife, @chuflisworld, @justmarissa97, @lol-haha-joke, @weirdly-randomly-awesome, @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanim, @idonthavehusbandsihavelovers, @alexa040004, @buckythetinman , @burntmythroatskullingmytea,@jorunnravenslayer, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @buffy-the-vampire-blogger, @arses21434, @ltkeke, @captainfoxy22, @chinduda @letsshamelessqueen-m @my-soul-is-the-moon @we-are-transcendent

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six,Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten

The sleep came easily enough, even easier considering that you had gone all day with no rest and unbeknownst to you it was the most rest you would receive in months.

In the land of the living it had been three days and you hadn’t had a clue, for you it was just like any other dream. Time was irrelevant and nothing important to worry about as you walked around the abandoned market. With the information you now had you came to the conclusion that this was a Viking age settlement.

And just knowing that much made you eager to look around and see everything. How many people could say they had seen something like this? It would be an opportunity lost if she didn’t explore.

You were still in your hospital gown and had been barefoot before you found some shoes that were too big but they stayed on.

Viking mud is still mud after all.

There was so much to see, there were stands that had vegetables and fruits and less attractive ones that had dead animals hug up on display. Further into the market area you found jewelry and long stretches of fabric. Most were brown or white but others were absolutely gorgeous colors like red, blue and gold.

It was while you were touching a blue silk fabric that you heard something behind you.

Muddy footsteps.

It made a wet squishing noise; squish squish squish, getting closer but not at a rushed speed. 

Whoever was behind you felt no need to rush.

You turned around; fully expecting to see the man with no eyes to be standing there with a new riddle for you to solve, but that wasn’t who it was.

It was you.

The woman standing before you had your face, she was older maybe in her twenties or early thirties, her hair was longer than you could imagine growing yours and it was in a braid that rested plainly over her shoulder. She was wearing a brown dress and leather shoes.

Despite how much you had looked into mirrors you had never seen yourself like this.

‘Y-you.’ you managed to say when you found the will to speak.

‘You.’ the woman smiled.

‘Do you know who I am?’ she asked as she stepped closer to you.

Instinctively you stepped back.

‘Your name is Wilda, you are a Saxxon woman.’ you replied.

‘I am, or maybe I was. It is hard to understand even for me, I have been dead for so long and yet here I stand speaking with you.’ she mused.

She walked over to the fabric you were just holding and rubbed it curiously.

‘I had been wanting this fabric when I died, the woman who made this was the best seamstress in all of Kattegat.’

‘Kattegat? Is that the name of this place?’ 

‘Yes, this is where it all began. This is where it all happened, where your fate was sealed with the Boneless One. I must apologize, for I am also responsible for involving you in all this, but please know I didn’t wish for any of it.’ she said sadly.

It was weird seeing yourself like this, it was like watching yourself in a movie but you had no memory of acting in it. Either way this woman...this you, was talking and it was understandable.

‘Can you tell me what happened, why am I involved and what will happen after Ivar accepts his past life?’ you asked.

‘I do not know it all, but I will tell you what I know, come walk with me, I want you to see something.’ she said as she began to walk away from the fabric stand.

You walked beside her, still keeping a bit of distance.

‘I was a child of the church, in York. When I was a small child the city was raided by the Sons of Ragnar and their Heathen Army. I barely survived but after they took over Ivar took me in as a slave.’

‘Why?’

‘I was often the apprentice to the healers after men would come from battle. I would take care of his legs with salves and oils. He hated me, it was simply a fact but he valued my care through the years.’

‘Why did you marry him?’

‘Years had passed and I’d seen him do...horrific things, he’d won great victories and suffered massive losses then all at once he was just losing. Battle after battle his plans failed him, he was losing his fame, becoming a joke among warlords.’

As the two of you walked past the last stand of the market she led you through a trail in the woods.

‘At his wits end he called on the seer.’

‘Seer? The man with no eyes?’ you asked. 

She nodded.

‘He sees peoples’ fates and speaks with the Pagan Gods. He told Ivar that the Gods had abandoned him; that they had favored his father Ragnar despite the disrespectful way he viewed them, and they would not show Ivar the same mercy if he followed his father’s footsteps.’

‘Ragnar? I thought he was a myth.’

‘People spoke of him as if he were, but he was a real man with real feelings. Ivar loved him despite the strain his broken legs put on their relationship, and like his father he began to place too much pride in his own importance.’ 

‘Broken legs...he really couldn’t walk could he.’ you said in amazement.

‘Not on his own he made braces to keep himself upright, really they were amazing to see. Even I, who despised him, felt a small amount of admiration for his resilience.’

‘I grew up in his care, he never hurt me but he was cruel. When he came to me demanding my hand in marriage I didn’t understand. He told me it was life or death, he said he would have the church in York reduced to ashes if I refused.’

‘How romantic.’ you said sarcastically.

‘I thought so as well. From what was told to me Ivar had gotten everyone close to him cursed, exiled from all their nine worlds, left to wait for the reincarnations of both Ivar the Boneless and a Christian Girl to to reunite and his guilt alongside her love and forgiveness would be the light that lead them to Valhalla.’

‘My love?’ you asked in embarrassed shock.

‘Yes, you love him and I know it.’

‘How can you know something like that? Do you feel my emotions or something, because I’m not sure if it is more than a crush.’ you said in your defense.

Wilda laughed and was odd to hear it, you recognized it as your own laughter but you never heard from someone else.

‘My sweet girl, you are not the first reincarnation, and your Ivar isn’t the first either, if God wills it you will be the last.’

‘I’m not the first? How many have there been and what happened to them?’

‘They all end up here eventually.’ Wilda answered as at last the two of you had arrived at your destination.

You were in a large clearing. There was nothing else there to take your eyes away from what was in the center.

Two graves, both empty and two piles of dirt waiting to fill them in once there was a body inside.

Your heart was lead.

‘It is never painful, for any of them, you’ll just go to sleep.’

‘But I- I’m sleeping now...am I am I d-‘

‘No, you are alive outside I promise. All you have to do is wait, wait for Ivar to accept his faults and remorse.’

‘And if he doesn’t then what? You’re saying I can’t do anything for myself? What kind of misogynistic bullshit is this? I thought Viking women had rights of their own.’ you ranted angrily as you paced, looking away from the graves.

‘Unfortunately, I wasn’t Viking, even if I did follow their beliefs I was a thrall. I had no rights before my marriage and even with that title I was still Christian.’

‘So what? Just sit here with you and wait?’ 

‘Yes, do you have faith that your Ivar will save you?’

‘Of course!’ you shouted so suddenly that it surprised you.

All at once it hit you how much faith you had in Ivar, the one thing you had no doubt about was that he would do anything for you.

He cared for you, even if not romantically, he cared about you; and no matter what he had to do he would save you.

Or he would die trying.

‘Then wait.’ Wilda said sweetly.

Ivar’s POV

The last three days had brought about a lot of chaos.

(Y/N)’s family was devastated by the news, her siblings were scared and her mother was in complete shambles. Miss (Y/L/N) had called your father who flew out with his wife and other kids and had arrived on the second night. 

His own family had been affected as well, he had been too shaken up and crushed by guilt that he couldn’t drive so he just sat in his car feeling sorry for himself and crying harder than he had since he was a child. His brothers ended up tracking his phone and once he had calmed down he explained what had happened.

No one in the Ragnarson family could ever remember seeing Ivar this distraught before, even his parents sat aside their marital issues enough to sit in the waiting room with Ivar and (Y/N)’s family.

It was strange to see for Ivar.

His family loved each other in their own odd constipated way, but they rarely got together like this. Even Bjorn and Lagertha showed up once, apparently they all wanted to be there for him but he suspected they just couldn't get over the fact that he had a friend.

Every day there were at least four people in the waiting room for (Y/N) and one of the most constant residents was Ivar.

He hadn’t even gone to school, all he could do was sit and watch...and think about things. Think about what he had to do, because no matter what logic told him he just knew this was his fault. She was a human vegetable and was because of him.

That thought alone made his head hurt, he was constantly taking pain killers that did little to ease his headaches.

He was on his phone watching the same video he had seen a thousand times it felt like.

The footage from (Y/N)’s sleep study. 

Her mother had demanded the footage, in hopes to find some kind of clue about what led to (Y/N)’s sudden seizure. She expected to see an administration of medicine or maybe even a nurse sneaking in, anything to explain it.

Unfortunately there was nothing on the film that the doctors hadn’t already explained. For about an hour she was sleeping peacefully, a bit of uncomfortable tossing and then, like a firecracker had startled her, she shot up.

Her body convulsing as she thrashed around so violently that she fell out of the bed and if the visual wasn’t upsetting enough the scream she let out after she landed on the floor was absolutely blood churning.

She was screaming loud and shrill at the top of her lungs, all the while her body never stopped shaking, her limbs were endlessly flailing. The nurses and doctors had rushed in to restrain after only forty seconds or so but it felt so much longer to Ivar.

He watched how carefully Herald administered the sedative and the way (Y/N)’s body went immediately limp. Ivar closed the video once the doctors started hurriedly checking her vitals.

Ivar sighed and stood up to stretch, the joints of his shoulder blades cracking in protest as he did so.

‘Going home for the night Ivar?’ Miss (Y/L/N) asked as she yawned in her own chair.

‘No, just going to the restroom, might get a coffee.’ he assured.

‘Grab me one please.’

‘Of course.’ Ivar said happily.

He didn’t really need to use the toilet, just needed to move around. His legs were getting sore and he needed to take his pills and he preferred to do that in private.

‘I would have killed for a treatment like that in my life.’

The color drained from his face as he looked in the mirror and saw a most unwelcomed sight.

‘I get the feeling you don’t like me much...understandable I suppose.’ the old man said from behind him.

His heart suddenly swelled with anger as he turned and swung, ready to feel his fist connect with the bearded face of this bastard, but it didn’t.

All that happened was his fist went right through him, as if he were air, with nothing solid to connect to he stumbled to regain balance.

‘I’m sure had I been alive that would have been a solid attack, were you done or do you want to waste more time? Because your Christian doesn’t have much to waste.’ the old man said tiredly.

Ivar turned around and glared, but it softened a bit when he saw something he hadn’t noticed before in his anger.

The old man was standing.

There were unpainted metal braces on the viking’s legs that seemed to be the only thing keeping him up, along with the cane he was using.

‘Why are you here?  Are you going to kill her now, brain dead not enough for you? She has nothing to do with this, whatever bullshit this all is, leave her out of it!’ Ivar shouted, not caring if someone heard him yelling to himself.

‘My Christian had nothing to do with my problems either, and had she been as selfish as I was she would have refused to take part. Then I would be cursed with no hope of redemption, and both of our Christians would have had longer and probably happier lives without us.’ he said tiredly.

‘But she was soft, she felt it was her stupid Christian duty to help others over herself. Despite her resentment for me, and mine of her, she agreed to help my family and for that I want to repay my debt to her. In order to do that I need you to see me.’

‘I do see you.’ Ivar argued.

‘No. You see an old man in strange clothes but you don’t see yourself in me at all do you? It's frustrating because you are the last and most important piece to this complicated puzzle. The Christian, her job was to find us, you and me, now you have to see us. Really look at me and see yourself...she will die if you don’t and the loss of her will drive you mad.’ 

He felt like ripping out his hair in frustration, Ivar had never been this angry. In his youth anger was the backbone of his personality, he was angry because his legs hurt, he was angry he couldn’t talk to anyone other than his brother because he didn’t have any friends, he was always angry. But this was pure rage; red hot and scalding, he was angry because he was terrified.

‘What do you mean she will die?’ 

‘Her body is here where you can see it, but her essence is in the void between the nine worlds and a living person can only stay there a short while before their body lets them go completely. Please if not for me and my family or yourself do it for her.’

For her, all at once his anger left him.

‘J-just look at you?’ he repeated.

‘See me...and look into you.’

Ivar felt like fire ants were covering his entire body, his stomach felt ready to rid itself of the crappy hospital lunch he’d had earlier, his heart felt like it was frozen in ice; and all that paled in comparison to his headache.

He had only met the eyes of the old man for a few seconds and already he wanted nothing more than to look away.

For her.

Ivar dug his nails deeply into the palms of his hand as he held the man’s gaze.

‘There you go, see me...see all we have done.’

Then as if zoomed in like a scene from a movie he could see images in the blue pupils, and what he saw made him want to look away even more.

He saw...a boy with a dirty face it looked like he was trying to pull something, suddenly he felt like there was something leather in his hand and he pulled it back he felt the boy in the eye pull it back and suddenly he struck his hand out with all his might and watched as the boy in the eye was hit in the head by the blade of an axe.

‘No!’ he gasped in horror.

‘Don’t look away, no matter how terrible or how ashamed. Do not look away.’ the viking said, but his voice was different now. It wasn’t as hoarse as before it appeared to be...younger in a way.

The boy faded away and he saw something worse than the boy.

‘Sigurd?’

In the eye there was his brother, his hair long, his clothes strange and he was talking and Ivar wished more than anything that he couldn’t hear what his own brother was saying, but he did, clear as a bell in his mind was his older brother’s voice.

‘It must be hard for you now that your mummy’s dead. Knowing she was the only one who ever really loved you.’ Sigurd said in a strange dialect as he sipped something from a chalice.

Hurt and anger swelled and he felt something wet and thick touch his lip and distantly his mind realized his nose was bleeding heavily, again his arm jerked forward and watched an axe fly and plant itself in his brother's ribs.

‘Sigurd…’ he whimpered as his eyes began to overflow with tears.

If anyone came into this restroom they would see him standing still as a statue, staring into space as his nose bled like a red river and his eyes leaked like faucets.

‘Don’t look away, don’t run from what you have already done.’ 

‘Sigurd...Siggy I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-’ he choked on the lump in his throat, the blood from his nose leaked into his mouth as he spoke and the taste was horrid but it felt nostalgic in a horribly gruesome way.

Again the image in the eyes changed and this one was more than the image it practically sucked him in like a portal.

No longer was he in a hospital restroom; he was in a stone building and there was so much noise, loudest of all was a baby crying. He could recall this, the dream, the one he remembered in the truck that night with (Y/N) the one that made his nose bleed.

This time it was so much more, it felt like his brain was exploding in his skull, he felt an aching throb in his ears but it didn’t compare to the horror he was seeing and hearing.

He could smell burning flesh, feel the heat and as the melted gold poured into the crying man’s mouth; the screams would haunt him until his last breath.

In horror he felt his chest shake in laughter.

Just when Ivar thought he would pass out from the pain in his head he felt something he hadn’t felt in years. His legs were breaking under his weight, but that wasn’t possible, he had titanium bones, they could never break but still he felt it. Even worse so he heard that familiar cracking noise as he fell to the floor.

‘Hold strong, we both know you can take more than this, and there is so much more to see.’ now Ivar was certain the voice he heard wasn’t the voice of an old man.

That was his own voice, and he suddenly processed that he wasn’t being sucked into the eye, but the eye was moving closer to him.

No longer was the phantom standing on crude braces as an old and ragged man. Now he was crawling, using his strong arms to pull himself along, his legs dragging behind him like a useless tail.

More than anything Ivar wanted to look away and see what the face of this man looked like now but he couldn’t.

For her… for (Y/N).

He stilled himself and tried to brace himself for more pain he was sure would come.

He had been right, more pain came and no amount of preparation would have made him ready for it.

A thousand or a million images flashed in the eye going so fast it shouldn’t have been possible to follow each one, but he could. Not only did he see and comprehend each image he felt them.

He saw the light go out in a fat man’s eyes as someone was chopping into his back with an ax, he felt the muscles in his arms ache with the effort it took to stab through the muscle and bones of a man in the heat of battle.

That was when he realized that these images, these senses were all things he’d seen and experienced before.

These were his dreams.

 ‘Yes, you are remembering. That is good, almost done now; look at me.’

At last that horrible eye closed, and Ivar nearly collapsed in relief, but he kept just enough energy to look up at the face that carried the eye.

There was no longer a beard to hide anything from view he could see the face in front of him with complete clarity.

This truly was his face, it was like looking into a mirror but this mirror showed what he looked like before.

‘Finally...you see me.’ He smiled.

[roselightfairy]

I’m rewatching Buffy s5 and having a lot of thoughts about Buffy, Riley, the Scoobies, and emotional support - as they are in the show and as they are viewed in fandom - and I’ve never been good at putting together meta in a structured, thought-out way but I’m going to blather them all at you here anyway.

What’s striking me so much about season 5 is how Riley is actually a very good boyfriend, practically speaking. In these early episodes, when Buffy is dealing with figuring out these things about Dawn, trying to be a better Slayer, and most importantly and especially her mom being sick, he is constantly showing up for her in practical ways: taking care of Dawn, holding her close, being a significant rock for her in ways she really needs it. But he’s meanwhile starting to spiral out because he wants to be more of a rock to her than he is, or wants her to be more vulnerable around him than she is, and doesn’t understand the ways he’s already doing #1 and the ways she honestly can’t allow herself to do #2. And because of this, he starts being less good at #1.

But I found myself surprisingly comparing him to the Scoobies in episode 8 (the one with the giant snake). In this episode, Buffy goes after Glory alone and Riley comes into the Magic Shop - after having dome something very helpful and practical, looking after Dawn, which Buffy desperately needed from him - wanting to follow her. And Xander calls him out - hard and very rightfully - for not really knowing what he’s looking for, even. Transcript from here:

XANDER: Yeah. Crazy. Going off alone, half-cocked, instead of waiting for much-needed backup ... charging in with a big old hand grenade ... oh, wait. Riley looks a little guilty. RILEY: This is different. XANDER: Yeah, it is. Buffy needs something she can fight, something she can solve. I don't know what kind of action you're looking for ... (looks closer at Riley) Do you?

This scene hit me hard because I realized - the Scoobies aren’t out there providing backup for Buffy. They’re in the Magic Shop, researching, because that’s the practical help she needs. They’re her backup and they’ve accepted it, because they know what she needs and what she needs is to fight alone. And I realized they take the same role with Joyce. They don’t try to talk to her, they don’t try to solve her emotional problems - they run backup, they look after Dawn, they bring silly presents to the hospital. They try to take care of things when she can’t. But none of them is her shoulder to cry on, because she won’t allow herself to break down in front of any of them. We see Riley being upset later on that she won’t break down in front of him, because he wants to be that shoulder for her - but it feels like the Scoobies have accepted that this is something she doesn’t want.

This also made me realize it’s been awhile since the Scoobies confided in one another, really. There was a definite decrease in s4, but I almost wonder if part of it started in s3, too, when there were the broken trust issues with Angel coming back. Buffy was seeing him in secret, not processing with them, because she knew they wouldn’t understand - and then when they find out, they all feel very betrayed because she didn’t tell them. Neither Xander nor Willow confesses to Buffy what they’ve been up to during the (cringe) cheating arc in s3. And while they are all talking about everything again by the end of the season, I wonder if some rifts started there that only continued into s4, when part of the arc of the season is the Scoobies all growing up and growing apart, learning to stand on their own and have pockets of their own lives that they don’t share with the others. They’re still a team, but there’s something in that emotional connection that has faded. And by this point in s5, they’ve all accepted it, but Riley hasn’t.

This meta actually isn’t about Riley. It’s about this aspect of Riley and what it reveals about the Scoobies - and why I think some fandom portrayals of the Scoobies in later seasons are a bit unfair. We see Buffy go through incredible trauma throughout the entire show - I mean, it gets dark really fast, and never lets up to the full extent we’d like for any kind of healing. Buffy is put through the fires again and again, and emerges sharper and harder each time. And the Scoobies - they’re all living their own lives, walking through their own fires, and they show up for her again and again but they can never fully understand, never fully be part of hers. And she doesn’t want them to. I think that’s what gets kind of overlooked sometimes - I understand the ways in which the Scoobies let Buffy down in later seasons, and that’s an attitude I see in fandom spaces sometimes. But I think what’s overlooked is that there’s a lot Buffy doesn’t tell them, a lot that she doesn’t want to let them in on. It might be a combination of protecting herself and protecting them, but it makes it harder and harder to break in. In s6, when everyone is in the pits of their personal struggles, it’s all they can do to keep their heads above water - and yet they’re still trying to offer practical assistance where they can, take care of Dawn (though often not well), research to fight the bad guys. In s7, they’re still not truly confiding in each other and yet they’re giving up everything to come help Buffy organize, to fix her house, to figure out what’s going on, to become full-time Slayer-sitters. (Potential-sitters just doesn’t have the same ring to it, okay?) And while I’m certainly not saying they’re perfect, I guess I’m just-- having feelings about the notion that they’re letting her down, because this pattern starts very early on, long before we are maybe ready to realize it.

I don’t know what this whole post was, or who it was defending, or what the point of it was at all, so I can’t make a TL;DR. But here are my thoughts; I hope you enjoyed them at least a little.