#[ heart wounds | spike meta ]

[reddragon-cowboy]

Spike is streetsmart and knows all about the concrete jungle of the city. But if he was in a real, actual jungle or woods, he’d be at a total lost as to what to do (or how to survive if he was lost.) He have no survival skills whatsoever.

[reddragon-cowboy]

[ I absolutely love Spike’s interaction with Stella. She was blind but he never took advantage of her handicap, and even gave up the bounty on her bother if it meant she could get cured of her blindness. He was soo kind and sweet to her throughout all their interactions, it just shows how Spike is capable of showing compassion. He’s definitely not the monster he might think he is. ]

Cowboy Bebop: Session #8 - Waltz for Venus

[tamedgod]

Meta + guilt re what happened to Haru's brother in your OW verse.

rage. rage like he'd never ever seen from her, like none he could conjure up in his image of her in his mind. he'd followed her to drem's dorm, he'd seen the body, the bullet wound, how the kid's clean room clashed with red. the feeling creeps up in him, a slow ice as she's silent, as quiet as the dead student beside them. a lump in his throat as he tries to form the words, as she visibly shakes. she makes no eye contact. she doesn't face him. the ice freezes his hands, his feet, his gut, his sweat. he's numb as she sniffles, he can tell she's biting her tongue to keep from crying. he knows she doesn't let that out in front of others. he's at a loss. speechless for the first time. as he inhales to speak, another quick breath takes its place, and another. panic spikes sharply into the ice as he watches her ball her fists. her synthetic claws dig into her palms. blood trickles down her fingers. more blood in an otherwise bright, tidy room. the panic sets in as she finally speaks.

you did this.

the words play again and again and again as he tries and fails to speak. he takes a step forward.

get out.

the words come and he pleads with her. another step closer -- mind the body. he doesn't offer it a glance. she says it again ; get out. she says it. she shouts it. she turns towards the body, ignoring him. tears silently spill down her cheeks. there is blood on her teeth from biting her lips, her tongue, her cheeks. she's louder now as she repeats it again and again. get out, get out, get out. he takes another step closer, passing drem. he reaches out to touch her, to hold her, to comfort her --

he's on the floor, his mouth in pain. she'd hit him. she'd hit him so hard, closed fist, bloodied fingers. his jaw was broken. his eyes search her, beg her. she's screaming. she's crying. her face is contorted into one he'd never seen, never imagined on her. the ice shreds his heart as guilt sweeps him underfoot. you did this, you did this, you did this. get out, get out, get out.

he slowly gets back to his feet. he leaves the dorm silently, dazedly. a broken heart shrieks behind the door. it sounds like a girl he knew.

-

she contaminates the crime scene ; her hair, her skin, her tears, her blood. noises come from her mouth unlike any she'd unleashed before. grey eyes don't leave his body. her friend, her brother -- gone. there is no longer life in him, and there never would be. she'd have to tell mom, dad, angela, lena -- if she could form words again. caterwauls pass her bloodied mouth like ghosts. the doorknob turns and gabriel is there. he stands where xiao did. red is on her hands, her mouth, in her vision. she is a wounded animal. she is pitiful. pathetic. defensive. aggressive. she lunges, but is quickly put down. the struggle is violent. a nearly spotless dorm room is overturned. she is cuffed and gagged and returned home... perhaps not her home anymore.

she's silent. still. empty. grey eyes stare at nothing, voices attempt to reach her. ana, jack, gabriel... xiao. there's ringing in her ears. she looks at none of them. her pain swells. it wells up in her throat, her eyes. her hands hurt, her tongue hurts, her body is sore from the scuffle. grey hues look at her scarred hands. hands that burn with the power they were given. it did no good. she feels the pain take liquid form, it comes hot down her cheeks. she could have saved him. she sacrificed her body, her sanity, her morals -- for this power. it hadn't saved him. it wouldn't save her either. words she can't remember speaking rasp from her throat.

she is removed from blackwatch.

@femtaile

[reddragon-cowboy]

[ Spike can be a real hot-head; he could’ve cursed, argued, yelled up and down the alley at this girl for not doing anything to stop his precious ship from getting wrecked. He’s always low on money, in fact most of the money he earn from bounties is spent on repairs for his ship, food, buying artillery & ammo. But he just looks at her, sighs, and dips his head in quiet frustration instead of downright admonishing her. Muriel’s not the smartest but she is a sweet damsel, and still he shows some patience towards her despite everything. ]

[rock-and-compass]

Angel E5.10 – Soul Purpose

Precursor - I wrote about the fifth season of Angel many years ago - probably around the time that the season 8 comics were first being published. I originally published these meta essays over on LiveJournal and I've decided to re-post them (as written), mostly for archival reasons. I love season 5 of Angel. It's such a shame it got axed before it could get the envisioned 6th and 7th series

The events of ‘Harm’s Way’ may have given the impression that for Angel the consequences of ‘Destiny’ were like water off a duck's back. It seemed that it was very much business as usual for the CEO of Wolfram and Hart. He’s got a law firm to run and no time to waste with abstract contemplation of ‘prophecies' and ‘destiny’ and his existential place in the world. At least that’s what he wants everyone to think, it's what he wants to believe. Yet in his dreams he can’t hide behind his corporate responsibilities. In his dreams he can’t hide from his deepest fears.

In ‘Destiny’ Angel was faced with the possibility that he isn’t “the one”; after everything he’s been through, he might not be the vampire with a soul of the Shanshu Prophecy at all. For Angel, his sense of purpose has been closely tied up with the belief that by helping others and fighting evil he is actively working towards his destiny, will earn his ultimate reward. The false quest for the Cup of Perpetual Torment, Spike’s words, and defeat at the hands of his former underling combined with the reality of life at Wolfram and Hart and, most significantly, what brought him there in the first place, all conspire to force Angel to recognise his loss of purpose, at least on a subconscious level. 

At the end of ‘Harm’s Way’ we saw Spike make a conscious decision not to go to Buffy, but to stay in Los Angeles and see what he can achieve on his own. For Spike the suggestion that he has an equal claim to this ‘special’ destiny provides no comfort, holds no allure. He doesn’t want the prescribed destiny, doesn’t need it, but he is, nevertheless, as equally purposeless and lost as Angel. Spike is alone in alien territory, and unsure of what to do next. Buffy always provided direction and impetus but now he’s exiled himself from her presence and he’s got to figure out where he goes from here all on his own. So as ‘Soul Purpose’ commences, Angel, in his luxurious ivory tower and Spike, slumming it in an establishment of disrepute, are, though poles apart in status and reputation, but in almost identical emotional positions - lost, directionless, purposeless and separated from the people they love most. Soul Purpose explores Angel’s dilemma through a series of delirium-induced dreams and Spike’s through allowing him to try on someone else’s life, just to see how it fits.

The episode opens with a reprisal of the aftermath of the big fight in ‘Destiny’, with differences. In this version Angel is prostrated, coughing up blood, wounded and bruised. Spike, by contrast, is spotless. Spike takes up the golden goblet from its pedestal and prepares to drink. Angel interrupts, tries to stop him with the same warning he used before:

Angel: Spike... Spike, wait. That's not a prize you're holding. It's not a trophy. It's a burden. It's a cr— 

But in this version Spike doesn’t listen, doesn’t consider, instead he’s dismissive of Angel’s well meant words of wisdom:

Spike: Blah, blah, blah. Give it a rest, hero. I win, you lose, and all your talking's not gonna change that. 

And so, Angel is forced to vocalize a thought, a belief he’s held steadfast deep in his non-beating heart despite moments of doubt and periods of disillusionments:

Angel: It's not your destiny. It's mine.

He finally claims that destiny, the one he wants so desperately, that he’s counted as his since first discovering the Shanshu existed. But his exclusive right of ownership is dashed with derision:

Spike:   Still can't accept it. It's pathetic, really. All your life's been a lie. Everything you've done—the lives you've saved, dreams of redemption—all that pain... all of it for nothing. 'Cause this... was never about you. Cheers.

Spike drinks and light descends on him from above. Spike basks, is blessed while Angel, still on the ground is gripped by pain as fire engulfs and burns him to nothing in a way that is eerily reminiscent of Spike’s demise in ‘Chosen’ (B7.22). Suddenly Angel awakens, startled, he looks around and realises he’s still sitting at his desk in his office. It was all a dream. All a nightmare more like. The dream, the recreation of the upshot of his battle with Spike is a production of Angel’s subconscious. He positions himself not only as defeated but as humiliated, pathetic. In this version he couldn’t touch Spike. The younger vampire is unmarked while he sees himself as a bloody mess.  In this version Angel can’t even struggle to his feet. In this version Spike won’t listen, doesn’t give him the time of day, imparts his own ‘truth’. Spike functions as a channel through which Angel’s beliefs and feelings are revealed. He gives voice to Angel’s worst fears; what if everything he’s done has been for nothing? What if he’s not the one? What if he really is irrelevant in the scheme of things? And if that’s the case then he’s doomed, hell bound, call it what you like. But the most important aspect of the whole thing is that this dream is not a reflection of what Spike thinks of Angel or, for that matter, what Angel thinks of Spike, it, and all the other dreams that feature in this episode are purely demonstrations of what Angel thinks of Angel.

Next, we join Spike, our other ‘lost’ vampire with a soul. He is drinking alone in a low-class strip joint. He doesn’t seem to be particularly thrilled to be there or particularly interested in the show. It is hard not to be struck by the despondent mood that seems to have overtaken him. In ‘Harm’s Way’ we heard that Spike has been out drinking, celebrating his return to a corporeal state. In ‘Soul Purpose’ his alcohol consumption has lost its joy, and has taken on a much more depressive, melancholy tone. Instead of drinking in merriment now he’s drinking to escape the reality that he has chosen to stay in a city he loathes, drinking to distract himself from the fact that he doesn’t really know what to do with himself, drinking because he’s started to wonder if his big sacrifice means anything at all now that he’s no longer ‘sacrificed’ and drinking because he’s separated from the one person in the whole world he truly loves and he was the git who made the decision to stay. Yup, not hard to guess he’s ripe for the picking…

As Spike finishes his drink he automatically reaches into his pocket for more money, intent on buying another. He is forestalled by the provision of a drink from an unknown buyer. Unknown to Spike but quite familiar to long-time viewers of the series as Lindsey, one time golden boy of Wolfram and Hart, nemesis of Angel’s and recently revealed partner in crime of Eve. Spike rejects the drink, but the man is persistent, implying knowledge of Spike and his situation:

Man: A guy like you, whiling away his time in some cheesy downtown strip dive. Look like somebody whose feeling kinda lost. 

The stranger’s opinion is not appreciated and he’s told to push off in no uncertain terms. The man counters with a question of his own:

Man: Hey, Spike ... get any interesting mail lately? 

And thus succeeds in finally gaining his quarry’s attention. Lindsey claims credit for the de-ghosting, mojo as well as retrieving the amulet from the bottom of the Hellmouth and its subsequent postage to Wolfram and Hart. He stops short of claiming responsibility for the original provision of the amulet to Lilah. Were he and Eve merely capitalising on an already existing opportunity, or did he call in a favour from an old friend? We’ll never know.   Lindsey intimates that Spike must realise that he has a lot of people interested in him but this only succeeds in raising the vampire’s ire and a demand for a straightforward explanation. Lindsey introduces himself as ‘Doyle’ and immediately challenges Spike with a question that he’s already been pondering himself:

Lindsey/Doyle: …You got your life back now. What are you gonna do about it?

Lindsey's timing couldn't have been better. He chose his moment well. Why Lindsey introduces himself as ‘Doyle’ is less clear. It seems bizarre that he would choose a pseudonym so well known to Angel, so important to the history of Angel Investigations and so easily exposed in the event of a simple exchange of information that would not be beyond the realm of possibility even with Spike and Angel’s relationship in the rocky state it is in.  This question remains unanswered, and one suspects that it has more to do with creating, for audience, a contrast between the Angel of season one, new to his mission of helping the helpless and with a burgeoning enthusiasm for the task and the sad, jaded Angel that now sits in his sterile office at Wolfram and Hart. What a contrast. 

At Wolfram and Hart Wesley and Gunn are having a heated exchange as to how to deal with a particular, magically inclined enemy. Wesley wants to make a pre-emptive strike and assassinate the warlock before he can gather his forces. Charles is in favour of inciting dissension in the ranks and assisting an internal coup d'état. Angel has no idea what they are talking about:

Angel: Guys!  CEO, right here, in the dark. 

It is also worthy of note that ‘In the Dark’ was the title of the episode in which Spike made his first appearance in Los Angeles on a quest for a particular ring. His mission was an abject failure that sent him scurrying back to Sunnydale, into the hands of the Initiative and subsequently, into Buffy’s world. It was also a time when Angel knew what he wanted, forgiveness and redemption pure and simple, prior to any confusing knowledge of the Shanshu prophecy. Wes and Charles explain that the warlock, Lucien Drake, has a cult following and sells children to hell in exchange for access to dark magicks. Angel assumes that it’s a case of Wolfram and Hart simply stopping him, but it’s not so simple…nothing ever is. Drake is well connected, direct interference from Wolfram and Hart would be bad for business. But covert elimination would see them:

Gunn: ... spend the next billing cycle fighting among themselves to hack out the new pecking order. 

Causing Angel to query:

Angel:  Uh-huh... So are we doing this because it's right... or because it's cost-effective? 

Wesley admits that it’s a little of both (mirroring Spike’s words before he drank the Mountain Dew filled cup in ‘Destiny’) and adding to Angel’s irritation at once again finding himself very firmly stuck in yet another grey area. 

Back at the strip club Spike’s not buying it. He doesn’t want, nay, need advice from this joker. Lindsey/Doyle dangles the promise of a ‘destiny’ but doesn’t get the reaction he expects. Spike slams him into the wall with violent suggestion and shows the stranger exactly what he thinks of false prophecies, phantom destinies and wild goose chases. Lindsey/Doyle pleads his innocence and tells Spike that he knows nothing, only does what he is told:

Lindsey/Doyle: ... Look, I'm just a guy. I'm nobody, a drifter. I was minding my own business, and then one day—  Wham! I start having these visions.  Spike:  Visions?  Lindsey/Doyle: Yeah, like brain pictures, but they hurt. Like when you eat ice cream too fast. You start seeing people in trouble...who need a champion. 

A champion; it’s the magic word for Spike. That woman, that one who’s been on his mind so much, she called him a champion – her champion. And he liked it, could live with it, could die for it. Now, just when he’s wondering if he ever really fitted the bill, along comes this silver-tongued stranger offering him a chance at being what he so desperately wants to be…But he still baulks at the nomination:

Spike: Hey, you are barking up the wrong vampire. That's Angel's beat.  

Lindsey/Doyle doesn’t deny knowledge of Angel, but instead argues that Angel doesn’t work for the people who need him anymore, that he’s crossed the tracks to the easy side of town and can’t spare a backward glance. So, Spike begins to be seduced by the allure of a possible mission, of purpose, of meaning, of being something. It’s got nothing to do with destiny. No, of course it hasn’t…

It is interesting, at this point, to ponder what, if any, information Spike knew about the way the old Angel Investigations worked. Spike met the real Doyle in the previously mentioned episode “In the Dark” but names were never exchanged, and Spike is never aware that he is anything other than an associate of Angel’s. He certainly doesn’t know about the visions, consequently, the name means nothing to him. Indeed, it is open to speculation as to whether Spike (or, for that matter, Buffy and the Scoobies) ever fully understood the role of Doyle and then Cordelia in passing on information from the Powers that Be or Angel’s status as their chosen champion. It is left for the individual viewer’s interpretation as to whether Spike knows he is taking on the role of Angel’s substitute or not. That Spike would succumb to Lindsey/Doyle’s persuasion is really no surprise. He is lost and ‘Doyle’ offers direction. He wants to do good, and ‘Doyle’ gives him the opportunity. He wants to be like Angel and ‘Doyle’ gives him the chance. Providence has arrived with a solution in hand, a way, a direction, dare we say…a destiny.

Uh….

But isn’t this the guy that doesn’t need a destiny? Specifically said Angel was welcome to it. Isn’t he the one who makes his own destiny? Sure, normally, but here he is, lost and lonely and suddenly, out of nowhere he has the offer of Angel’s old job, Angel’s reputation and he can’t help but try it on. He’s like the geek who despises the popular kids and everything they stand for, wouldn’t be one for quids. But then one day for some reason they ask him to join their group, he gets the chance to be one of them. They’re everything he hates, it’s not what he wants or who he is, but curiosity gets the better of him and he just can’t help but surrender and take the chance to see how the other half live. So, Spike goes to the alley with his new best friend and finds a girl in peril and at the mercy of an evil vampire. Ever so politely Spike interrupts, draws the vampire away from the damsel and dusts him, no big deal. The girl is grateful, appreciative, full of fear and awe. If Spike is following Angel’s instruction manual then he will gather the young woman in his arms and offer her words of comfort and concern, see her to safety. Yeah, but Spike’s not following those rules:

Girl: Thank you! Thank you! That thing was gonna kill me!  Spike: Well, what do you expect? Out alone in this neighbourhood? I got half a mind to kill you myself, you half-wit.  Girl: What?!  Spike: I mean, honestly, what kind of retard wears heels like that in a dark alley? Take two steps, break your bloody ankle.  Girl: I was just trying to get home.  Spike: Well, get a cab, you moron….And on the way, if a stranger offers you candy, don't get in the van! Stupid cow. 

It is here that we are shown that the mission doesn’t quite fit right. Sure, Spike disposed of the vampire no problem, but he had no patience for the stupidity and ignorance of the girl, so he couldn’t ‘help the helpless’ with any degree of subtlety. And this is why it’s wrong; because Spike’s mission would never be the same as Angel’s was. In ‘City of Angels’ (A1.01) the real Doyle told Angel to ‘help the helpless’ because it would help him reconnect to humanity.  Before there was any suggestion of the Shanshu this was Angel’s mission.  But this has never been Spike’s problem – he’s maintained ties to humanity since he was turned, he’s kept the feelings and emotions, he’s associated with humans, sought their company, eats the food, drinks the grog, chose the soul. While trying on Angel’s life might be interesting for a while, it will ultimately not help Spike, whose immediate mission is to find out what he’s capable of without Buffy’s assistance. Spike is still not quite convinced. Women in danger are a dime a dozen in this town. Doyle advises him to be a little kinder next time:

Spike: Next time?  Lindsey/Doyle: Well, that's up to you. A lot more people need saving.  Spike: News flash Sparky: Don't need your help, been saving people long before you showed up.  Lindsey/Doyle: Not like this. You just helped a person when there wasn't anything in it for you. That's not like the Spike I know.  Spike: Oh, is that right? And what Spike is that?  Lindsey/Doyle: The Spike that's only out for himself. The one who does good deeds to impress...women.

Lindsey didn’t make it to the top at Wolfram and Hart for nothing. He’s smart. He knows what buttons to push. Spike has always been accused of being good, doing good for the ulterior motive of impressing Buffy. A reprisal of the accusation has Spike keen to prove otherwise. Lindsey’s almost got Spike where he wants him. One more move to make, chances are a mention of Angel will have the vampire jumping through hoops...

Lindsey/Doyle:  I'm just sayin'. You did good. From what I hear Angel didn't save the girl on his first mission.  Spike: What's Angel got to do with this?  Lindsey/Doyle: Well... nothin'. Not anymore.

And . . . checkmate. 

At Wolfram and Hart, Fred has arrived on the scene to see what all the noise is about. Wes questions her as to the firm’s capacity to eliminate the target via satellite to which she replies:

Fred: Well, we do have an orbital-range microwave cannon up there, focuses the satellite's communications signals into a pinpoint beam. It can raise the temperature of the targeted area 1,000 degrees in less than five seconds. So, yeah, in theory, we could. That is, if we did that sort of thing…Do we do that sort of thing?

The others continue to debate. Angel interrupts, saying passionately:

Angel:  Let's kill them all.

These words hark back to the very first episode of Buffy, (Welcome to the Hellmouth 1.01), to his very first conversation with the Slayer, when he was just new to the good-guy business:

Buffy: What do you want? Angel: The same thing you do. Buffy: Okay. What do I want? Angel: To kill them. To kill them all.

It was simpler then, easier. He gave the girl the information, she did the leg work…but it wasn’t enough. He’s come so far, lost so much. He’s stuck in the perpetual grey area. No such thing as simple now, but oh how he wishes there was, wishes he could get back to basics; good versus evil, offing the monsters when they find them. Simple. Easy. But one word of caution from Wesley brings him back to reality. They must tread lightly, be careful, there’s too much at stake. Angel green lights Gunn’s plan with Wes’s as a backup option. The other three notice that Angel’s not looking so well and advise him to go and rest, and sleep in late in the morning. They’ll handle everything. 

In his apartment Angel shuffles towards his bed. He looks awful. Wes arrives and helps him to the couch. When Angel suggests that he might be sick, Wes contradicts him saying that vampires don’t get sick and that his condition must be a consequence of having a lot on his mind and a reaction to having to adjust to the new situation. “Situation?”, Angel asks in confusion. To which Wesley replies with frank honesty:

Wesley: Finally coming to grips with the truth... that you're irrelevant…. It's difficult to face, I know. But things could've been much worse. Spike's arrival's actually quite fortuitous. It'll make this a lot easier. 

Wesley then stakes Angel in the chest putting him out of his misery. 

Again, Angel wakes with a start to find he is sitting on the edge of his bed, alone.  His conversation with Wes is his second anxiety dream, one in which he confronts his fear of being irrelevant to those who see him as their leader and friend. Wesley, not surprisingly, who has always been willing to make the tough decisions for the common good is the one who stakes him. Just doing what has to be done. But it is the use of the word ‘fortuitous’ that is really telling. According to Wesley, Spike’s arrival is fortuitous; a lucky accident that saves them from having no champion or hero of the hour because Angel had already lost his mission and lost his purpose long before Spike arrived on the scene. Spike’s arrival didn’t cause Angel’s loss of identity, but it did save things from being much worse. Angel’s purpose left his world with Connor and Cordelia and in his dream, he recognises this but sees death as the only solution.

When we next join Spike we discover that he has thrown himself into his new job. He fights vampires, rescues the helpless, embraces the gadgetry in a scene deliberately reminiscent of the early episodes of Angel. He’s almost ready to believe he can take the part, fill the role, do the job. “Who are you?” a freshly rescued woman asks. “The hero” Spike acknowledges, albeit softly. Damn, a fella could get used to this...

Wes intercepts Eve on her way to disturb Angel. She has a particular rune-covered relic that apparently has the senior partners in a spin. Wes promises to take care of it pronto. Harmony overhears and being the efficient personal assistant that she is, is quick to point out that ANYTHING to do with the senior partners or runes is supposed to be reported directly to Angel immediately. Wes overrides her saying that they don’t need to bother him until they have some definite answers. Angel deserves some peace and quiet.

If only! Angel is not restful at all. He’s sleeping but it seems feverish and he’s groaning in pain and discomfort. Fred arrives and assesses him as looking terrible.  Angel mumbles that he thinks something is wrong to which Fred offers her scientific services, or in layman’s terms, she decides to ‘take a look under the hood’ as she snaps on surgical gloves in a slightly maniacal fashion. The setting instantly changes from Angel’s apartment to Fred’s lab. Fred takes a surgical scalpel and slices a still conscious Angel open in a long vertical cut causing him to gasp in pain, fear and confusion. Fred pulls out various bodily organs saying:

Fred: Oh, don't worry. You're a vampire. You don't need this stuff anyway. Probably should've had it removed a long time ago

He’s a vampire, so easy to forget sometimes. Livers, kidneys, and the like are all pretty much useless for a vampire; unnecessary, pointless. He’ll never have the need for them again, it’s not like he’ll ever be human. She pulls out his heart:

Fred: Ah! There's your heart. Hey! What do you know? It is a dried-up little walnut.

That’s exactly what Number Five said. Warned him his heart was nothing special. Next, Fred pulls out a string of pearls and puts them round her neck. Pearls; precious gems born out of irritation - so much irritation inside of Angel that he could produce a whole strand of them. And raisins, Fred takes out some raisins, dried up little fruits and eats them just as Connor, the fruit of his loins, has been taken and eaten, first as a little baby into a hell dimension, then as a consequence of all those surrendered memories. No more chances to produce another, dried up, miracles exhausted. And a license plate that came up the Gulf Stream and somehow ended up inside him. It’s a deliberate ‘Jaws’ analogy, one cold, soulless killer to another, a reminder that Angelus is him, no matter how much he tries to pretend otherwise. Fred reaches deep inside him, struggles momentarily but eventually pulls out his soul; it’s a cloudy-looking fishbowl with a long-dead goldfish floating on the surface. His much prized, legendary soul, the thing that makes him unique (well, almost) is in dire need of flushing. She hands the bowl over to ‘bear’, not a real bear but a football mascot type of man-in-a-suit kind of bear. This, for me at least, causes the recall of the BtVS episode ‘Pangs’ (B4.08) in which Buffy fights a Native American spirit who takes the form of a bear. It’s not really the bear that’s so important but the fact that this episode firmly established Angel as an outsider to Buffy and her Scoobies. It is also the episode that marks Spike’s tentative transferal to the inside, into her ‘family’. The group that sits down to Thanksgiving dinner in that episode are her core team until the end. They form a unit, a fist. A family. Angel’s tried, he’s tried to make that family, he even had it for a while, but now…it’s like a man-in-a-suit type family, an imitation, not the real thing and it pales in comparison. Fred finishes her examination and is perplexed. She can’t find anything wrong except that he’s empty, a shell. So empty she can hear the ocean in that hollow cavity.

Dreams in the Buffyverse have, on many occasions, been written to have prophetic qualities. Buffy, coming from a long line of worthies, connected to the visions and all, often finds important clues in her dreams as to what’s going to happen or what she should do. The masterpiece dream episode, Restless (B4.22) provides a blueprint for the remainder of the series as well as bridging to what has gone before. The dreams in Soul Purpose certainly take on some prophetic attributes, particularly this one featuring Fred. It neatly foreshadows Fred’s demise via infection by the demon king Illyria, who uses her hollowed out shell as his Earthly vessel. In an upcoming dream, Gunn features with animalistic eyes, heckling Angel from the audience. This may have also been some intentional foreshadowing as there is some suggestion that in the hypothetical season six, Charles was to have been the ‘big bad’ for the season after being turned into a vampire (and this certainly seems to have been the case as Charles was turned into a vampire is the comic continuation of Angel, Angel: After the Fall written by Brian Lynch and based on the story ideas of Joss Whedon).

…But back to Angel. The dream is disturbing, makes him face his worst fears, biggest regrets, yet he doesn’t find it so easy to wake from this one. He remains in bed, slightly delirious from pain and fever.

Downstairs it's business as usual; Eve’s relic is the hot topic of conversation until Gunn walks in with a report. A vigilante, a vampire, working the streets, took out two vamps at a gas station then invited the ladies he saved out for a drink. They knew Angel was unwell but has he gone crazy too? Charles directs them to the description of the crusader, medium build, black leather coat, platinum blonde hair. No more information required.

Lindsey/Doyle takes Spike to a sparse but serviceable basement apartment. No direct sunlight, sewer entrance for daytime travel and there’s a Korean market on the corner and its Spike’s, if he wants it. Spike’s not keen. Not keen on the place, not keen on being provided for – might mean obligation. Seeing his hesitation Lindsey/Doyle says:

Lindsey/Doyle: You want creature comforts? You can go to Wolfram & Hart. This place has everything you need to be a hero. The job requires somewhat of a... Spartan existence. 

Having nowhere else to go, Spike agrees, grudgingly, with one final complaint:

Spike: You call that a bed?  Lindsey/Doyle: Well, it's not like you're gonna be sharing it with anyone any time soon.

But then we cut back to Angel, he’s still feverish, still in bed but he’s not alone. He turns over and sees Spike beside him, in the bed. But Spike’s not alone either. Beneath him is a blonde woman and they are engaged in sexual intercourse. Angel is shocked. The girl has hair all over her face but we hear Buffy’s voice, stolen from an earlier episode, say “every time I say the word prom, you get grouchy!”  Angel starts putting two and two together but jumps to a strange conclusion:

Angel:  You're taking Buffy to the prom? 

On the surface this dream is about Angel’s belief that Spike has ‘stolen’ Buffy from him, just as he’s ‘stolen’ Angel’s destiny. But like his destiny, Spike had nothing to do with it.  The alterations in Buffy’s love and affection for Angel are a result of his own actions. In ‘The Prom’ (B3.20) (the episode from which Buffy’s featured sound bites are taken) Angel actually breaks up with Buffy prior to taking her to the end of school dance. It’s in this episode that he tells her he’s leaving Sunnydale as soon as the Mayor has been defeated. This is his solution to the deficiencies in their relationship and his own need for purpose in his life. The decision is admirable and valid, no argument there, but it is his departure that signals the end of his romantic relationship with Buffy, not Spike’s arrival and not the subsequent development of a different and unique relationship between Buffy and Spike over the following four years. Again, Angel’s choices are what have brought him to his present predicament, not the actions of others. This dream might also be interpreted as sub-conscious recognition of the intimacy of Buffy and Spike’s relationship that Angel has always made a determined point of denying. 

This dream wakes Angel, rouses him from his deep delirium…or seems to. He makes his way downstairs and meets Fred who appears pleased to see him up and about again. She sympathises with his disheveled state saying:

Fred: Always takes me a few days to get back in the swing of things, myself.  Um...you should put on a clean shirt, though. 

It’s a second reference to a dirty shirt as Spike also pointed this out in the previous dream and oh, Angel’s wearing no shoes, he’s shoeless. He’s sans shoes. (hmmm, that sounds like something…) Then Gunn arrives, excited:

Gunn: Hey, guys. Come on. You'll miss it.  Angel: Miss what?  Lorne:  Hey...down in front!  Harmony: Yeah, Angel. You're blocking the apocalypse. 

Outside Los Angeles is burning. The final destruction is at hand and at Wolfram and Hart you get front row seats. Angel’s reaction is immediate:

Angel: I have to do something. I have to get out there! 

Words versus action; he says, but he doesn’t do.  The others hose him down. No need to bother, someone else will do it for him. Yes, it’s another irrelevance dream – the main feature.

Wesley: Don't worry. Spike will take care of it.  Gunn: You should go back to bed.  Lorne: Or at least go put some clean clothes on. You got a little something on your shirt there, babe.

Ouch! Angel dreams of a stake in his chest (similar in this case to his friends stabbing him in the back) and we see that all this talk of dirty shirts has not been just part of the madness of dreams. Angel has a creature, a parasite, a slimy blue alien feeding off him, gorging at his breast and it pinpoints the cause of his vivid dreams. 

The apocalypse is averted! There’s cake and a party and songs and it's all about Spike. In this dream Spike has single-handedly ended Armageddon and turned the world into a beautiful, happily-ever-after, candy mountain place where all our dreams come true. It’s fairytale perfect and in this dream, Spike gets the reward not because he wanted it, but because he didn’t. 

Spike: But I didn't do this for a reward.  Gunn: Well, that's why you're getting one.

And it floats the Blue Fairy and with a wave of her magical wand and a sprinkle of glitter she turns Spike into a ‘real boy’, beating heart and all. Fred listens at his chest and confirms the diagnosis. He’s human, he’s alive! In Spike she hears the steady beat of the human heart. In Angel all she heard was moving air, the illusion of the ocean, something great and dynamic in an insignificant shell. And Angel looks down at his chest, feels his non-beating heart and embraces his fate.  He turns, takes up his mail cart and pushes it slowly down the hall before him; Number Five emulation complete.

Poor Angel, in his dream he really does position himself as ineffective, hard-done-by, um, kind of pathetic; everything he hoped for is going to another and he knows the reason. It’s all got to do with that damn reward. Wanting it, counting on it to be his one day and in doing so he inadvertently tainted the purity of his mission so that he begins to wonder was he ever really selfless and altruistic in motive at all?  And he sees Spike surrounded by his friends, getting adulation and praise for being the Saviour, for being the hero and he sees Spike getting his reward. The appropriation completed, Angel all too readily resigns himself to a never-ending future of irrelevancy, as the superfluous vampire with a soul. 

Now this all seems heartbreaking until we remind ourselves it’s a dream. In reality, Spike’s not surrounded by friends, he’s alone and at the mercy of a self-interested conman. He’s not happy; he’s sad, depressed and lonely.  He did avert an apocalypse, but he got no party, no thanks and no reward, but unlike dream Angel, he’s not taking up his mail cart, he’s looking for a way to keep on going. Angel, by contrast, in reality is surrounded by people who love him, are loyal to him but he can only see their worth when he imagines them admiring someone else. Perhaps there is an element of fear there too, what if they did find out what he’s done to them, with the memory wipe, maybe they wouldn’t love him anymore. Maybe that’s why there’s a distance between him and them now and why they might be willing to put their faith in a new champion. And that destiny, that reward? Spike doesn't even want it for craps sake!!  Angel wonders how that can be. When he first discovered the Shanshu it was like water to a man dying of thirst, it renewed his vim and vigour, was music to the soul, it was a dream come true . . . but not to Spike. He heard about it, was intrigued, learnt what it was, what it meant, and, symbolically at least, even won it, but still he could walk away, give it back, say Angel was welcome to it. And those things he said in that fight they had, all those things about how he was different, how he was better, maybe there was some truth there too, what if he is better, more deserving because he doesn’t care about the reward? These are the thoughts that play around in the back of Angel’s mind, they feed the fear; make Angel dream fear fueled dreams.

Spike receives some visitors to his new abode. The surprisingly intimidating duo of Wesley and Gunn want to know what he’s up to. While Spike thoughts are focused on the big picture, purpose, relevance and his place in the world, Wes and Charles are much more localised in their concern:

Wesley:  From what we hear... you're fighting the good fight these days.  Gunn:  We figure that's our territory.  Spike is surprised. Are they that protective of their domain? Are they afraid of a little competition?  Gunn: Not at all. We're wondering why you left in the first place.  Wesley: If you want to save the world, we've got the resources to help you do it. 

They offer him a job. Ask him to join the team. And even though acceptance is something that Spike craves, has always craved, he’s not so keen to jump on board, join the evil empire and be compromised:

Spike: I told Angel, and I'll tell you. A place like that doesn't change... not from the inside. Not from the out. You sign on there, it changes you. Puts things in your head. Spins your compass needle around till you can't cross the street without tripping the proverbial old lady and stepping on her glasses. And it's not like I wasn't there, gents, like I wasn't watching you. Had to haunt the damn place. Remember?

Spike, the speaker of truth, tells it like it is, and gives them a few home truths. Gunn protests. It’s not so cut and dried! They’re changing the system from within, it’s a new playing field where they set the rules and dictate the game and they see him as a potential player, a team member, an asset. It’s a new experience for Spike, to be wanted. Sure, he and Buffy shared a special loyalty, but he was never a real Scooby. But now, it’s quite enticing, the thought that Angel might want him to stick around…it’s almost too good to be true:

Spike: I can't believe Angel would sign off on that. Unless... he doesn't know you're here, does he? Hedging our bets, are we, boys?

It is too good to be true. The captain doesn’t want him so he rejects the team with a final taunt:

Spike: And the compass needle keeps spinning. And the world gets murkier and murkier.

Lindsey and Eve are all cosy in the bedroom. Team Angel doesn’t have a clue what’s going on. Eve is sure she’s keeping them all busy with the mysterious relic, too busy to check up on Angel and his inexplicable illness (although, interestingly enough, not busy enough to stop them checking up on Spike). Eve asks after their blonde crusader wondering if he’s buying the whole Doyle-visions thing:

Lindsey: So far. I mean, he hasn't sewn a big red "S" on his chest yet, but he's gettin' there. We keep building him up, and we tear Angel down. Pretty soon the senior partners are gonna start thinking they're backing the wrong horse. 

And so, their plan is revealed; it is audacious, risky and proving very effective. It’s all about Angel, about bringing him down, destroying who he is. It’s personal. It’s vengeance for a lost hand and an interrupted career. Lindsey - once the golden boy of Wolfram and Hart who was working his way up the hierarchy with admirable speed until Angel arrived and started messing with his life. Killed his clients, made him look bad, made him think, second guess his part in the process, cut off his hand, screwed Darla and ultimately destroyed his ‘innocence’ where Wolfram and Hart were concerned. Oh, and there was that ‘cops suck’ sign too. But more than anything, jealousy burns in Lindsey’s gut, and he wants retribution for the fact that Angel now sits in the head honcho’s chair, where he would give anything to be. Without even trying Angel has gotten everything Lindsey ever dreamed of having.  The flipside is, of course, that Lindsey and Eve weren’t to know that Angel was coming unraveled at the seams quite nicely all by himself before they came along to tug at his strings. They have merely hastened the process. 

Wesley and Gunn return to the office feeling surprisingly dejected (or, more accurately, rejected) by the fact that apparently they’re not good enough for Spike, that the newcomer thinks they’ve sold out:

Gunn: Thinks we sold out.  Fred: We didn't sell out. We're changing the system from the inside.  Gunn: You know, when you say it out loud, it sounds really naive.

The trio decides to keep this information from Angel, but Fred decides to check up on him anyway. She’s forestalled by Eve and a not-so-subtle demand to get back on the case of the runes. Angel, meanwhile, is sleeping fitfully. Suddenly he sits up, looks around, Lorne is there playing ‘My Darling Clementine’ (lost and gone forever…) on the piano and goes by the name Honky-Tonk (perhaps sub-conscious suspicion of Lindsey, our urban cowboy’s involvement in the plot?). Honky-tonk asks why he’s so down:

Angel:  I think... I think I'm lost. 

On a lot of levels. Has been since they went to Wolfram and Hart. Honky-Tonk recommends a drink and a tune. He'll be able to read Angel’s path, tell him what to do. But Angel is incapable of singing; he has no tune, only a cracked squeak that tells the Empath demon nothing except that he has no path, no future, no destiny. And the audience doesn’t like it:

Fred: I told you he was empty. Wesley: Yes, but this is ridiculous!  We paid good money for this.  We paid blood for this.  Lorne:  Crowd's turning on ya, sport.

(Gunn turns, snarls viciously and reveals silver cat-eyes; he hisses at Angel.)

The crowd is turning, sick of empty promises, empty prophecies, leaders who are not what they seem. Nothing is what they bargained on. He paid blood for them to be there. Connor’s blood, Cordelia’s blood and now it’s hard to separate them from the company they run. Where do they stop and Wolfram and Hart begin? It’s like a parasite sucking the lifeblood out of them all; it’s exactly like a parasite. Oh, and he’s still got that thing on his shirt. 

Somehow, Angel summons the strength to pull the creature off his chest and instantly he wakes. He squelches it so that its innards ooze between his fingers. He sits up gasping, his ordeal over. Eve appears in the doorway holding a large wooden box. He’s confused. She explains away her presence as part of his dream. She opens the box and allows a larger, uglier version of the parasite to crawl from within. Eve releases it to have its way with Angel. 

Spike comes home from a trip to the bottle shop to find he has company. Lindsey/Doyle is not particularly welcome, and he doesn’t even get the same level of hospitality as was offered to the earlier visitors. Just because this guy is giving him a road to purpose doesn’t mean Spike has to like him. Doesn’t mean he has to jump every time he gets one of those freaky visions.

Lindsey/Doyle:  Oh, no. I think you're gonna want to jump on this one.

The large parasite latches on to Angel and instantly a new dream commences. Now he’s sitting outside in the sunshine. It’s warm and peaceful and comforting. Fred, Charles, Lorne and Wes arrive and tell him that he can stay forever if that’s what he wants, he’s earned the rest. They’ve got his work covered. All he has to do is stop caring. Suddenly the soothing words turn to animalistic screeches as each of his companions throws back their head in turn and begins to scream. Spike has arrived, grabbed the parasite from Angel’s chest, flinging it with force against the wall.

Spike: That'll be a bitch of a clean-up.  Angel: Spike?  Spike: No need to thank me; just helping the helpless.

Angel is too weak to do anything but watch Spike leave. The great Angel is completely helpless and having to endure the indignity of having his “usurper” come to his rescue, putting his fears of inadequacy and irrelevancy firmly in the real. His team comes to his side, trying to help with explanations, supporting him steadfast and true. Angel is confused:

Angel:  It seemed...real. All of it. (to Fred) You were dissecting me, taking things out of me, and there was this...bear. (to Lorne) You called yourself Honky-Tonk, tried to get me to sing, but... (to Gunn) You were big with the heckling. 

And if Spike hadn’t swooped in to save the day, then Angel would have been rendered helpless, stuck in a vegetative state. But there is one thing that Angel is sure of – that Eve is involved, that she bought the big one to finish the job the little one started. Eve pleads her innocence, but Angel can’t be shaken, locking on to her new earrings as proof that she was there. Fred backs him up despite the slimness of the evidence against Eve. They’re a team, that’s what they do. Eve challenges Angel to tell her exactly what he thinks she’s up to:

Angel: Don't know, Eve. But I'm pretty sure the senior partners didn't give me the reins to their law firm just to turn me into a vegetable. Playing your own game here? What do you think the partners' will do to you after they find out about your little extracurricular activities? 

He threatens her with the wrath of the Senior Partners; there are some advantages to being of significance to the big boys. But Eve counters with a little challenge of her own:

Eve: So, things aren't going your way and you're looking for someone outside your little circle to blame. Here's a thought. Maybe you should try looking inward...unless you don't like what you see.

Her words cut deep. He’s spent the last few days forcibly looking inward and no, he doesn’t like what he sees. But the harsh reality for Angel is that he’s got no one to blame for his current miserable state and situation, but himself. Whatever Angel has lost, whatever Angel has become, it isn’t because of Spike or anyone else’s influence. He is in his present predicament purely because of the choices he himself has made along the way. 

Next up: Angel 5.11 - Damage

[liberons]

so anyways have a weird pseudo-meta on the 239894 ways levi’s character could’ve been better used story-wise

tbh i do believe yams had it in him to write a nice, tight, cohesive story where everything could’ve fallen in place well enough -- at least to the point where actions made sense with reference to established character personalities and arcs within the story. i have no issue with regression, but you can’t make it half-assed or just. entirely left-field and leave it at that and ok moral of the story i’m like, 90% sure come from being far too invested in the fandom as an author. NEVER change your story because of someone else’s opinion when it’s SERIALISED y’all.

SECTION  I .     KILL  HIM  OFF  !

let’s be honest !!!  this is the most obvious !!!  we get it he’s popular, you’ll get backlash, yaddi yadda ya girl’s tired.

(  i .  )   why didn’t eren kill him.

why

remember what levi was actually established to DO early on? the whole “i’ll take care of eren if he goes manic”? his WHOLE NARRATIVE PURPOSE? would be great if we, you know, played with that At All.

how fucking FRIGHTENING would eren’s final form be if it just fucking nipped levi in the bud? if levi, completely fine and uninjured, stayed true to his word and lead to handle eren, just to be fucking annihilated? eren has like 60 fucking titans inside him INCLUDING the activated founding. I THINK IT’S PRETTY FAIR TO REDEFINE HIM AS BEING FUCKING OP NOW.

just define some real form of tension come on.

this could’ve also just. so naturally shifted the tension in mikasa’s direction. literally everyone instinctively has mikasa jotted down as second-best-next-to-levi, both in and out of canon. it would make sense for other characters to just eye awkwardly in deciding mikasa ‘has’ to be the next one to try through the framing bias that presents. 

right now it’s like it’s not even her choice but everyone decided it would be for no goddamn reason. why does mikasa need to be ok with killing eren at all??? why cant one of YALL do it????????? and like mikasa kills him but then presents absolutely no real conclusion in doing so. we get 0 insight into what’s really going on in her head and WE DONT EVEN GET TO SEE IT !!!!!!!!!!

(  i i .  )   zeke if yOu’Re goNnA do it dO it RIGHT

to stay more true to canon, here’s way better ways zeke could’ve actually been rid of him that aren’t. regressing and dumb lmao:

zeke’s still a war chief, he’s had YEARS of troop strategy / planning up his sleeves. why didn’t he use turning levi’s squad into a means to set up some real traps because what’s he gonna do to a bomb, huh? Fight it?

or better yet, spike more than just levi’s squad and just have swarms and waves of mindless titans coming in to provide that distraction.

or have more help?? there’s all the yeagerists at your disposal and not ONE can secretly set something up with you?

overall like zeke should know levi’s skill and levi shouldn;t have to assume zeke’s not ?????????????? “willing to die”??????????? WTF????? AREN’T YOU WHY WOULDN'T HE BE?????

god anyways

zeke kills levi u know what that sets up? the fact that he’s pretty fucking clever and powerful on his own???? so now when eren & zeke team up to cause the rumbling, regardless of zeke’s original intent, would make them Far more horrifying to the rest of the crew; 

tbh i feel like this should mean moving the ‘reveal’ of eren’s betrayal to the very end of the manga when eren explains everything through path visions bc at least it keeps his moral grey area more.... grey. 

we know by the end that he betrayed zeke so it’s like ok So Yes He’s Doing Summ For The Greater Good But What and at least this would balance the scales of mass murder a lil by not snipping all the men i fucking Guess lmao god

(  i i i .  )    RUMBLE HIM

step on him 

but really he can just??? die during the rumbling???? point blank??????????? why were there not more major character casualties lmao boi

if the colossal titans are just far too many and far too boring, all the previous titans on eren’s back is so delicious and should’ve been drawn out im not sorry about it.

where’s the 349873 iterations of character x character teaming up and slowly getting better at absolutely Slicing these bastards? WHERE ARE THEY? 

i want my warriors x stray marleans x survey squads just dedicated to keeping the 9 titan iterations out of eren’s neck.

he could’ve finally killed zeke here too but i’m gonna get to that whole thing lmao god.

we've also established him getting wounded when others are involved (à la leg injury helping mikasa) so have him??? sacrifice???? to help others like finish his empathy arc

let him sacrifice himself by keeping the titans back while armin blows up idc

and for all of these — it doesn’t even have to be a quick death. let him lose a body part and die of blood loss. let his organs fail. let him get infected like yo not every death has to be in 3s flat.

SECTION II .     OR  DON’T  !

like. let’s just say there’s absolutely no way your publicist is gonna let you kill this character. you love him too much / he’s become a weird self-insert. ok sure. YOU CAN STILL DO SOMETHING.

( i .  )  why does he just. not grow.

he’s five three but does his heart have to be?

anyways fr he’s literally a huge fucking asshole and he doesn’t grow out of it. no one ever point out that it’s terrible. the biggest blacklash he gets is historia punching him like pew. and it’s not even addressed why she did that. it’s just like haha, yep.

can we get him some uhhhh??? clear empathy ???? some actual growth?? like we know he went from the guy beating eren up Excessively to forcing historia to be queen to giving armin the colossus, and then back to just slicing zeke up uselessly and caring about one (1) thing. like he was clearly on a path somewhere.

like first of all, holy fuck get over it. it’s like he had a manic episode for 4 years just obsessing over killing zeke when the game changed buddy??? it’s been established that the issue is No Longer zeke why are we so hard on this. his entire character just becomes kill monkee because his arc is DONE so if we’re going to keep him around find something else?? or CONTINUE to develop him.

make him grow his soft skills as a leader. make him learn how to stick around his team and know exactly how to fall back. 

if he’s injured, make him LITERALLY stay back and learn how to handle those he has to keep back with him.

make him struggle keeping morale. 

make him argue with some of the non-paradisians, or even those from paradis that are like what the FUCK and just learn to offer his perspective.

if he’s so obssessed with zeke maybe uh?? address that with someone???? talk it out with your therapist buddy you’ve clearly not come to terms with the fact you let erwin die and he has no reason to be so caught up by that and if he does like lmao ok let us see and understand it???

( i i .  )   do something with the ackermans

that’s it that’s the post

idek what else to put here i want this fucker dead

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Tuesday, October 5

Buffy comes down the stairs with a bounce in her step. At the bottom she fakes dropping her stack of flyers. Scott sees them fall, and quickly kneels down to pick them up. Buffy: Sorry. Scott: Here. I heard you were doing this. Buffy: Uh... yeah. It's just something to pass the time. It's silly, really. Scott: I don't think so. For what it's worth, you have my vote. Buffy: No, I don't want you to feel... (reconsiders and smiles) Thank you.

~~Buffy Episode #39: "Homecoming" Transcript~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Mutual Respect (Xander, T, Dresden Files xover) by madimpossibledreamer

Mine to Take (Buffy, Kendra, M) by ashcrashed

Another Chance (Connor, Angel/Cordelia, G) by NikitaDreams

Old Times' Sake (Giles/Ethan, T) by witchee_writer

Of Screams and Howls (Buffy/Giles, T) by froxyn

Heel (Buffy/Spike, E) by Cohava

Fire Bad, Tree Pretty (Buffy/Giles, T) by Skyson

Costumes (Buffy/Giles, G) by poisonouschicken

Almost Halloween (Buffy/Giles, M) by ElleV

Far Away (Buffy, Dawn, T) by yvochrali

Untitled (Buffy/Spike, unrated) by courtneystoker

Hunger (Drusilla/Reader, T) by locke-writes

Untitled (Kennedy, T) by wordsonfirefanfic

Called (Buffy/Spike, T) by Dusty

Drunk-Punch Love (Buffy/Spike, T) by Wonder and Ashes

An Adventure in Secular Morality (Buffy/Spike, T) by PRationality

[Chaptered Fiction]

It's An Adventure Ch. 1-3/? (Xander/Spike, E) by evilshelly

To Live In The World - Chapter 16: Seeing Red (Ensemble, M) by IvorySteel92

(wishing only) wounds the heart Ch. 16 (Ensemble, T) by summers-maclay-lehane (ofstormsandwolves)

Landed, Chapter 11 (Buffy/Spike, E) by Holly

The Tiger is Out, Chapter 29 (Buffy/Spike, M) by Cosmic Tuesdays

Careful What You Wish For, Chapter 15 (Buffy/Spike, E) by Jws1993

C'est la Vie...Whatever That Means, Chapter 1-2 (Buffy/Spike, E) by Daisy Rose

Spike and the Quest for the Gems of Amara, Chapter 1 (Buffy/Spike, T) by the_big_bad

Dawn's Next Great Adventure Ch. 15 (Dawn, M, Harry Potter xover) by Khatix

Echoes of Beljoxa 46: Broken Armor (Buffy/Spike, E) by myrabeth

[Images, Audio & Video]

Artwork:Giles () by Repoghost_

Artwork:Giles Clothing Fanart () by Repoghost_

Artwork:Wishverse Scoobies () by snakeliciousbaby

Artwork:Giles & Jenny () by halfrek

Artwork:Faith () by haileys-sketchbook

[Reviews & Recaps]

Buffy Season 2 Episode 4 Review by NinjaGirl2008

PODCAST: S06:18 "Entropy" by Buffy Virgin

PODCAST: Why We Fight by mmpodcastnetwork

[Community Announcements]

Call For Banners by seasonal_spuffy

BUFFYVERSE TOP 5 OPENS OCTOBER 22! by buffyversetop5

Call For Banners by seasonal_spuffy

[Fandom Discussions]

What’s the more on-the-nose metaphor this episode? by herinsectreflection

Too many people see Giles as the nice father-figure by yesitsterriblysimple

Does the show ever really get into explaining the extent of the "slayer connection" by herinsectreflection

spike saying “The pain that you feel, it only can heal by living." by cowboylikedean

dawn having to field questions from the potentials by lqvewillow

Watching AtS by profoundcastiel

Dennis the ghost by highonbandcandy

Spangel Subtext in AtS 5 by kristos-nikos

Fred/Gunn Meta by dontwarnthetadpoles

SMG interview excerpt about leaving BtVS after season 7 by Excellent-Durian-509

The Annointed One wasn't much of a demon. by arbiewebbjr

Wild At Heart by full_onrainstorm

What do you think Anya did with the money she stole? by Grebnesorwolliw

Dreams by Potential_Slayers

The movie theory: Merrick is full of shit by segascream

I always felt it was weird that angel, spike, and darla all got their soul or humanity back, but drusilla didn't by sunnydalebimbo

Charles Gunn made that demon deal for a car when he was 17 by millennialslayer

It’s so annoying when fans say that Faith (she’s guilty of saying it too) wouldn’t have gone to the dark side if Wesley had been a better Watcher. by millennialslayer

Rewatching Angel the Series season 5 by takaraphoenix

So, in the Buffy comics, after the whole Twilight thing... by oveliagirlhaditright

by

You know… if Angel hadn’t been so fucked in the head doing this Twilight shit in season eight by oveliagirlhaditright

Outlines & Writer’s Drafts for Buffy the Vampire Slayer 4.08 “Pangs”: by Matthew Pateman

buffy was definitely justified in her anger and betrayal when she found angel helping faith in sanctuary by atlasshrugd

Spuffy Fic Search by atlasshrugd

If I were Buffy, the moment Faith said she didn’t care by oveliagirlhaditright

YES buffy deserved better friends but spike is still buffy’s abuser by tridentarius

I was just listening to the buffering episode of Lie to Me by emmathompsonegot

Xander/Cordelia for the ship meme by currantlee

Buffy Being Pushy With Willow in Halloween by Moonshine71

Discussion of Buffy the Vampire Slayer #30 - Released 10/6/21 (Boom! Studios)

Plastic wood grain stakes...just why? by jospangel

Reptile boy is is super creepy by Hibibitch

Just rewatched "Into the Woods" by PsychologicalFilm130

Angelus, mmmmm by Blackrose909

Do the audition tapes of the cast exist somewhere online ! by BabyEmmaXO

Favorite light-hearted episode? by dragonsrawesomesauce

Spike line that made me LOL by salvagehoney

Are you now or have you ever been? S02E02 by Blackrose909

Should Spike have eventually had a house in Sunnydale rather than remaining in a crypt? by beeemkcl

Say something nice about Cordelia Chase. by Opening_Knowledge868

Why didn't we see Spike in Season 2 of Angel? by Svondie

Indirect sunlight and vampires by full_onrainstorm

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[emerald-amidst-gold]

3, 6, 20 for the writing meta asks!

Why hello there! I won’t lie, I was, of course, extremely happy to see another ask in my ask box! Perfect thing to wake up to, and get the brain juices flowing! So, let’s do some answering! >:D

****

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

There’s one particular scene that’s actually been in my head for days, but of course, when I try to actually write it, my brain just fizzles out into the unknown. However, the scene I want to write and will have to write is Fane and Solas ‘reuniting’. More or less, when Solas finally realizes what and who Fane is and vice versa. It involves a lot of build up from previous chapters and scenes, and since those aren’t written yet I’m a little stuck on how to get it off the ground. I can share a few little concepts though that I did manage to write up!

“May I?”, Solas asked quietly and softly, carefully lifting a hand to hover near the aggravated gash. He would not touch it unless Fane explicitly stated that it was amenable. He would do no more harm than he had already.

There was a long pause, the two of them sitting practical inches from each other until Solas heard a sound between a growl and huff exit past sealed lips. That had a small smile working its way onto his face. How painfully nostalgic that sound was to him, like rolling thunder during a downpour..

“Hmph.”, Fane huffed out again before jerking his head lightly to indicate that it was fine, but he could see how a serpentine jaw locked up instinctively. 

Solas frowned slightly at that before shifting a bit closer, not ignoring how the other tensed up even more as he let his palm rest against the seeping wound. 

To have such adverse reactions.. How much have you had to suffer due to my rashness? A heavy, crushing feeling bore down on Solas’s heart--it was like a spiked cage was closing in around it, threatening to puncture and leave him to bleed out. He did not know all of what happened surrounding the Herald’s early life, but he had witnessed the man’s sensitivity to magic, watched as a normally proud and dominating form crumbled into no more than weak shivers and suffocating retching. He had also, during a moment of childish weakness, caught glimpses of magically burnt, jagged patchwork scars along an uncommonly naked arm--the skin, for once, having been freed to breathe and scream. Solas had not been close enough to see more, at the time, but the severity, the deepness of those torn segments he had seen, and the fact that Fane’s body was covered neck to waist in leather wraps told him then that strong arms were not the only place such...familiar, but gruesome scars existed.

The scars upon his arms, and most likely his entire body… They are indicative of what his kin had endured, but how…? Solas felt his frown deepen further upon that thought before refocusing on the wound marring a porcelain visage, which was as hard as stone as it peered into his own. He would have to think on those aspects later. He would get no answers while Fane refused to speak to him, and it would do neither of them favors to speculate. 

Solas gingerly swiped a thumb along the crimson gash on Fane’s cheek, involuntarily hushing the man softly when a light hiss escaped tight lips. The wound would scar, no matter how much healing Fane would allow. It was deep, nearly piercing through the thin skin of a cheek, and Solas had done that. In self defense, yes, but he had still caused damage.

He had caused harm due to an inability to stay. away.

He must suffer another scar because I was blind. He cannot not wrap this one. He cannot hide it from sight to make its deepness feel more shallow. I have marked him, in two ways, and neither are kind.. The weighty thought flitted through his mind before Solas blinked as he felt and watched Fane lightly lean into his touch, gold glittering in emerald despite the dimness of the cave as those eyes narrowed a bit from both stinging pain of a wet wound and, dare he say, contentment from a century absent gesture. 

That had Solas’s smile turning sad as he absently stroked under a brilliant golden emerald eye, unphased by the two toned hue that encompassed a blackened pupil as it met his gaze unflinchingly. How had he not seen it before? The truth was always staring at him--figuratively and physically. Why had he averted his own gaze? To hide? To run? Or was it to protect? He knew not. However, he did know, from the way a warm, but crushing feeling wrapped around his entire soul was a truth that could never be denied for fear of justifiable rage--for fear of punishment for mistakes so grave as to render a vow completely moot.

“...I missed you.”, Solas whispered against his better judgement and earlier thoughts, watching as Fane’s pupil widened a bit before it trembled slightly with emotion, the emerald within the iris deepening to drown out brilliant gold. He had to close his eyes at that, a feeling of weightlessness and oncoming longing threatening to have him, too, drowning within emerald. “What am I saying? I have no right to have missed you, but I can’t.. No. I do not have the right..”, he murmured  in the next moment before lightly shaking his head, absently cupping Fane’s warm cheek more fully. 

There was no use dwelling upon his lack of foresight, for it was his own blindness that had shaded him from the truth--his own pride and fear. He had not wanted to believe there was hope, and he did not deserve to have such lofty ideas after what he had done. He deserved to wander about in darkness, happiers visions obscured while only ghostly apparitions haunted him beyond the Veil, clambering, clawing for a way out of the prison he had locked them in. This was nothing but a hopeful dream--one of many that constantly plagued him with falsities and--

“I missed you, too..”, a hoarse, exhausted, but distinct voice sounded, completely cutting off the wave of his thoughts to shove Solas’s mind back into reality before it came once again, quietly. “I’m sorry..”

Solas’s eyes shot open upon those words, ignoring the way he could feel the hand that rested upon Fane’s cheek trembling slightly to gaze into deep, deep emerald as it shook just as much with concealed emotion. No--no, this could not be real. He did not deserve for this to be real!

“Sorry? For what? I am the one that should be sorry..”, Solas stated with a deep frown, gaze flitting down to the hand that bore the Anchor--his magic. “I have shackled you without even rattling the chains before you myself. It is a sound you should never have known..”

Fane let out a tired sigh, shaking his head slowly with a tiny grimace. “You have never held them, Solas.”, he said before sighing again. “The chains were always there, and you weren’t the one to make me aware of their sound.”

“But the orb--the mark, it is..”

“Yours, I know, but it’s not the same. I remember the difference. Trust me.”, Fane said before leaning into his hand more. “I remember...everything. Well, mostly everything. Some parts are still fuzzy, but I know you, I know who or...what I am, I know the bond we held, and I know how I died..”

Solas couldn’t help but flinch at that last statement, almost retracting his hand until Fane reached up weakly to keep it in place. “Herald, I--”

The corner of Fane’s mouth twisted into a tired sneer. “Don’t recede into formality. I hate when you do that.”, he said before letting his hand fall back to the ground with a light thump. “Responding as if I’m a stranger to you is pointless.”

“How would you have me respond after all that has happened? Should I feel jubilant from the pain I have inflicted upon the world, upon my people--upon you? Should I ignore that all that has transpired and will transpire is my doing--my mistake?”, Solas questioned, a niggling of irritability born of mental exhaustion working its way into his voice. He was exceedingly growing weary due to not resting for more than several hours at a time, the two of them having to swap routinely for watch.

He watched Fane’s chest rise and fall heavily with another sigh before glittering eyes shut with equal weariness. Solas frowned at that. What had gotten into him? He was tired, yes, but so was Fane, and he had not just had his identity sundered like a torn blanket, only to be stitched back together again with completely different patchwork. He had also not just suffered having his mind nearly broken from magic so potent and so sickeningly familiar as to cause an age old frenzy to take hold without an ounce of hesitation. This whole ordeal was simply exhausting and unbelievable, even as proof practically...leaned against him?

Solas blinked, thoughts once again veering off a depressive trail as he felt a heavy, but warm weight resting itself on his shoulder. He turned his head a bit to see that Fane’s head had lulled forward to find a place to rest--eyes shut and snowy brows furrowed as if in some kind of discomfort.

“Fane..?”, he called out softly, tentatively reaching up to card a few fingers through snowy hair--the strands coated in a grey hue due to residual ash and dirt. 

Emerald made a reappearance as Fane cracked his eyes open, glancing up at him drearily before starting to shift as if to move away. “Sorry.. I was--”

Solas quickly, perhaps too quickly, shook his head, weaving his fingers into dirty hair to gently guide the other to stay put. He should not do this, but...he couldn’t help it. Against his better judgement, Solas let his own head come to carefully rest upon the side of Fane’s before he shut his eyes--an instant wave of contentment filling in the void of his soul.

“Rest. We will speak more of this at a better time.”, he commanded quietly, smiling a bit as he felt the other relax his tensed up form. “I can tell you are exhausted still.”

“So are you..”, Fane muttered, his voice rumbling pleasantly which had Solas letting out a quiet hum. How he had missed that sound, even when it had had no voice to go along with it..

“I will wake you in a few hours. I can manage until then.”, he said softly before absently stroking through silky strands of white. He couldn’t help but chuckle quietly at the texture. How was it, that despite the grime and despairing ash, there was still a softened quality to the dragon’s hair? Perhaps that said something about Fane himself..

“Mm..”, a content hum reached Solas’s ears, the small smile upon his face growing by a fraction before he felt warmth and strength wrap around the rest of his body in the form of two tired arms. He tensed a bit before he realized what was happening; Fane was hugging him--holding him as if Solas would suddenly disappear..

He shifted his head a bit to gaze down at where Fane was resting against him, his heart growing tight upon a matching frown etched into a pale face. Oh, my dragon. I only cause you harm, so why do you continue to tempt more? And why can I not dissuade it? His mind questioned before his own arms came up to wrap around Fane’s shoulders, tangling a hand into snowy, short locks. 

He should not do this. He should not give false hope and promises to someone who deserved better, but it was like a tidal wave of longing, of yearning, and of grief had suddenly come crashing into him--slamming him against the rocks, wet and spent from fighting the tide. He wanted to drown in a sea of emerald and gold…

“Ma’isenatha..”, Solas whispered out the Elvhen without a shred of hesitation, even as his mind practically screamed for him not to. “Ma’isenatha..”, he said once more as he buried his face into Fane’s neck, the man’s own arms tightening around him to pull closer.

Obviously, there will have to be one hundred percent more context and soul searching, but I’m mainly just playing around with ideas of how both Solas and Fane will handle the situation. Like I’ve said before, I don’t see them avoiding each other, even with Solas constantly stating he’ll only cause Fane harm. Fane isn’t made of glass and Solas knows that, and he also knows that Fane has a place upon this particular chess board, but not as a pawn, but more along the lines of a rook or a knight. Fane’s involvement is essential to Solas, even if he’s not happy about it since it could end the same way it did before. It also helps that Fane is stubborn and as his abilities reawaken, he can back Solas into a corner to make the man face what he’s fearful of. That was Fane’s role as a dragon, after all. To guide emotion and unclog the dams of them so they could flow freely in a realm where emotion and imagination were the world’s very foundation. But again, this is just a concept of what could potentially happen after Haven, so it may change later on when I finally get there! 

6. What character do you have the most fun writing?

In terms of my OCs, it’s obviously Fane since I can still find ways to evolve his character and add on to what I already have established. In terms of those not of my own creation, I would say Solas. He’s easy for me to write, to formulate thoughts about. I think it all boils down to the fact that, in a certain way, he and Fane are parallels. There’s evidence in canon, of course, to support the Inquisitor is a mirror for Solas, but I took that a bit further. I also wanted to explore the emotions, that I believe, Solas would showcase with someone he not only knew before the Veil was erected, but loved in a forbidden way. I will never tire of making Solas melt over Fane and vice versa. There’s not enough softness in the world, so I seek to rectify that! >:3

20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

I’m a slut for symbolism. Yes, I said it, I’m a slut for it. The whole reason I have focused so heavily on eyes in my fics is because eyes are the gate way to the soul. Fane can see into that window with his abilities and even without them depending on how open a person is, and it allows him to properly communicate without offending. It’s more or less a way of saying, ‘If you just look at someone, truly look at them, then you don’t need words to understand them. You can see the pain, the happiness, the sorrow, the whispered love without ever uttering a single word.’ That’s the whole basis of Solas and Fane’s relationship, and how it even formed in the first place. I mean, how else do you think a Elvhen god and a dragon became friends, and then lovers? It took a lot, I’m not gonna lie, but Fane is Solas’s heart and Solas is Fane’s sky. A heart and sky don’t need words; they only need someone to listen to the beat or gaze upwards to the clouds. Fane and Solas from the start, as two elves, synchronize with each other as if their souls are greeting each other without their physical forms knowing. You might say, ‘Well, wouldn’t Solas clue in after watching Fane? Or wouldn’t he know from his eyes?” 

Yes and no. The eyes throw Solas off, but he doesn’t focus on them because the memory of them belonging to another is too painful. This is another way of me saying, ‘If you don’t face the truth, it will remain hidden to you, but the pain it harbors in its very shadows will not. It will stalk you, it will taunt you, and it will tear you apart from the inside until you look.’ Solas denies his heart, even as it beats before him, from a fear of foolish hopes being mere dreams, and a grief that is so aged from hands died with draconic blood and magical chains. Fane turns his potent gaze from the sky, even as blue eternity stretches before him with love and understanding, for fear of turning it grey as he is and trying to convince himself that he doesn’t care even though he cares so much. It’s tragic in its own way, but I visualize a happy ending or at least bittersweet one.

There’s also a very heavy focus on color, primarily grey. This is physical in some way to Fane, things look muted to him or take on a greyish hue, but overall, its how he views the world at present. It’s grey, not black and white. Same things happen for different reasons and sometimes neither of them are good and neither of them are bad. Fane views the world in grey because that’s how he feels on a daily basis. He’s grey because he doesn’t know who he is or what race he should answer to. His existence is not black and white and sometimes, he wishes it were because it would be easier to accept. Those feelings lessen over time as Fane reconciles with the fact that he’s a dual creature with experiences spanning two lifetimes and two races, but the world’s greyness doesn’t lessen for him because between all the political intrigue, war, corruption, and ignorance, there’s red, crimson. As much as grey can make Fane feel hollow and out of place, red is another ball game--a terrifying one that houses inevitability and every time a noble topples peasant and opponent alike for personal gain, every time a plain of nature is destroyed for expansion, every time magic is used as a dominating influence rather than a ritualistic one, every. time. a dragon is erased permanently from a world that sorely needs them, that angry hue paints Fane’s vision and hands where there was otherwise indifference. And once again, it is inevitable, those happenings simply spur it to climb faster and faster. What is it, you ask? Well, I think we all have an idea. 

****

Thank you for the ask and apologies for it being so loooong! You chose the question for me to ramble and I ramble ramble ramble! >:3

[reddragon-cowboy]

Moral Alignment Test

People who are Chaotic Good are strong individualists marked by a streak of benevolence. They believe in the greater good and being kind to others but have little use for laws and regulations. Their actions are guided by their own moral compass which, although benevolent, may not always align with the rest of society. They place a high value on freedom, not only for themselves but for others as well.

Chaotic Good individuals intend to do what is right, but their methods are generally disorganized and may lead to conflict when they come into contact with those who prefer extensive organization and planning.

“. . . Alright, look. I don’t necessarily care, but it’s annoying when little dogs and troublesome women get caught up in something that I gotta intervene in some way. ”

People who are Lawful Good believe that an orderly, strong society with a moral government can work to make life better for the great majority of the people. When the laws are fair and the people respect them and try to help one another, humanity as a whole prospers. Therefore, people who are Lawful Good strive for a social order that will bring the greatest benefit to everyone and cause the least harm.

Lawful Good personalities may sometimes find themselves faced with the dilemma of whether to obey the law or do good when the two conflict.

For example, when upholding the law of the land would lead to unfairness or harm or when there is a conflict between two orders of what is right, such as between the ways of their community and the law of the government.

“ I do try to respect the laws and do good in general, but it can be a little difficult to know what to do when unfairness plays a part in something. I’ll always try to do what’s good though…nothing can convince me to do things unjustly… ”

Tagged by: Stolen ;3

Tagging: @erthlyheavn @eleutheriya @liesandalibis @shnya @alaikhadal @pzfr @manebloom @alm1ghtysea @monmuses @earthssprout @the27percent and anyone else who’d like to do this :3

[daemoninwhiteround2]

What does LazarusPit!Jason taste like to Vampire!Dick?

"You hungry or not?" Jay grumps.

Dick suppressed the urge to coo. It's a very understandable urge! Jay's looking away and blushing so hard he's all splotchy pink from his ears to his collarbone. Dick's sure anyone would find it charming, even if they weren't a vampire and can't hear the way his heart rate speeds up.

Thinking about it, maybe it's only a vampire that would find such a sound charming.

Dick leans forward, nuzzles and mouths against Jay's skin, vampire instinct leading him to the best place to bite. He licks, allows his venom to numb the skin, and then gives it a little kiss. "Don't mind me," he murmurs, his lips brushing against Jay's delectable skin, and he has to smother a grin when Jay's heartbeat spikes.

His fangs sink in and...

Bliss.

Jason's no longer human. He was dead, what in heaven, and Dick would know that even without being told. Dick can taste it in his blood, a lingering reminder of where he was dragged out of, pure, concentrated good that makes Dick think of sunlit meadows and how it feels to be utterly and completely in love. And then, the aftertaste, a hint of the Lazarus Pit, spicy and smoky and demonic. All together, it's like nothing Dick has ever tasted before. It's not even really a taste, more something somewhere between a sensation and a memory, and every time Dick feeds from Jay he always finds himself winding his arms and legs around Jay, refusing to let him go.

Jay just thinks that drinking makes Dick cuddly. Dick knows that Jason's blood is something unique in the truest sense, the result of a confluence of events that are incredibly unlikely to ever happen again.

It's a taste-sensation that's unique in the truest sense, a confluence of events that are beyond incredibly unlikely to ever have happened yet alone happen again. He likes Jay for far more than just his blood, of course: he likes Jay's attitude, his passion, the way all his actions so clearly reveal the weave and weft of his soul. And all of that wrapped up in a stunningly attractive package.

Every time Dick feeds, he's vividly reminded of what a gift he's being handed. The taste of Jay's blood also forces to the forefront of his mind a fact he otherwise does his best to forget: Jay is gloriously, horrendously mortal. He's barely into his twenties and already died once. How long before it happens again? What if it sticks this time?

Dick's heart and mind broke the first time. He refuses to regret ripping the Joker limb from limb, if anything, he should have done it slower. A vampire's heart is a fragile thing, and Dick could have no more stopped himself from destroying what took his heart away than he could force the sun to rise in the west.

There's a chance that Jay could revive again - they don't understand what caused it the first time, after all. Dick knows no magic was involved, nor is Jay a meta as he'd be able to taste it in Jay's blood. There's the Lazarus Pit again, of course, but...

Could Dick even revive him again, when his blood so clearly tells the story of the bliss he was ripped from? Could he look Jay in the face and confess just how utterly selfish he was?

It's a thought for another time. He pulls back and licks the wound closed.

"Cuddle time?" Jay asks as he shifts into a more comfortable position atop the pillows and silks Dick's collected over the centuries to make his nest.

"Yeah," Dick breathes, voice soft to disguise the sorrow in his tone, and twines their limbs together.

That his head winds up over Jay's heart is a coincidence.

[zaxxusu]

Character Sheet (Answered by Zack!)

Mun’s Note: Filling a character sheet or even writing a character meta is not my thing. So I cudgel one's brains to keep filling what I’m tagged with... by interviewing my muse [laughs]. FYI, I roleplay him mostly as a spirit from Lifestream. Here we go! 

BASICS.

full name.   Zack Fair pronunciation.  Zek Fe-Ir nickname.  You aren’t Angeal so don’t call me Puppy! Would you say I became a Hero? gender.  male height.  185 cm age.   I thought I was still 18 but the reality is... I'm now 23 zodiac.   I should ask Square Enix my Mom first when my birthday is!  (//mun goes with Libra) spoken languages.  You can talk to me? Nah, guess Gaia have international language for Earth haha.

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS.

hair color.   Jet black eye color.    The color of the sky! skin tone.    FAIR! Haha, kidding, it’s Light to medium. Guess I burned my skin a lot when I was kids; can’t just stay at home most times! And it’s gettin’ darker due to SOLDIER missions body type.    muscular, build accent.  idk, man voice.   upbeat dominant hand.  righty posture.  no backbone is bent here scars.   I was a SOLDIER, so I have some here and there behind my clothes due to fight. tattoos.   none birthmarks.  none, even if I had, I wouldn’t tell you most noticeable feature(s).   x-scar on my face, my stylish spike hair, buster sword

CHILDHOOD.

place of birth.  Me? Gongaga! hometown.    Gongaga Village birth weight.   how could I know that? ask my mom. birth height.  same as above manner of birth.   what is it? first words.   again, ask my parents for this siblings.  Sadly, I have none. It must be nice to have siblings! Maybe I should adopt Cloud as my ‘lil bro haha. parents.  it’s silly, I never ask their name, but my family name is Fair parental involvement. They raised me in good way. They’re harmonious. And you know what? They have no shame to show how romantic they are in front of their kid haha. Idk if it involved me, sort of... whaddaya think?

ADULT LIFE.

occupation.  Ex-SOLDIER current residence.  Is Lifestream counted? close friends.  Kunsel, Cissnei, Tseng; I think that’s all. Haha, kidding, Cloud too! Well, I also used to be close with Sephiroth since Angeal passed away, but that was before he completely lost his mind. I also sometimes hanged out with Luxiere since I was promoted, but he... ah, that’s what you call bootlicker. Essai and Sebastian were also my close friend, but they returned to Lifestream long before me, I missed ‘em. relationship status.   it’s complicated, Man. Last thing I know, my girlfriend broke me up through her 89th letter and I never had a chance to explain it ‘cause I never did what she might think I did. Unexpectedly we’re now reunited in Lifestream, so.... is it happy end or not? But if I could, I wouldn’t let her go. No way! financial status.  Well, Turks are paid better and Shin-Ra have sealed my bank account where I did saving, so ... you can see it. driver’s license.  You don’t know that I even could fly a helicopter. criminal record. Nah, I don’t wanna call myself a criminal, but Shin-Ra really made me a wanted man vices. Well, I admit I’m impulsive, but following your heart isn’t that bad, right? I commit not to be as reckless as I used to be.

SEX & ROMANCE.

sexual orientation.  straight! love women! romantic orientation.  straight too! preferred emotional role.   submissive  |  dominant  |  switch   preferred sexual role.  submissive  |  dominant | switch libido. Mhmm..., give me any porn magazine or video, and yeah, I think I’m horny then. turn on’s.  Pretty much anything except the things below. turn off’s.  clingy, over-sensitive/sentimental, and possessive. love language.   Not sure, I enjoy my time with Aerith whatever silliness we did haha (even if it was just me sitting on the bench to see her tending), I also feel her love when she embraced me (or maybe that she’s just being there when I was in my lowest point)... but one single letter also could easily broke me up! relationship tendencies.  Right after everything is so click, I’ll go with the deep. No postpone and wait!

MISCELLANEOUS.

character’s theme song.  I think “It’s My Life” by Bon Jovi and “YOLO” by Smash Into Pieces are  very me, haha! (//mun goes with Last Order and The Price of Freedom from the OST) hobbies to pass time.   I used to do squat... not sure right now since time doesn’t exist here. Scarin’ naughty kids seems a good idea! mental illnesses.   none physical illnesses.   Mhmm.... okay, I was totally wounded so badly that it finally stopped my body functions left or right-brained.  Math isn’t my thing so I guess it’s right? fears.  Tbh, I’d never think or feel about it--not good to discover it until... the 9 months on the run was really a nightmare I never felt before

My biggest fear is perhaps loosing a freedom... well, when I was being a lab rat, I was mostly unconscious to be able to feel it but... NO! Don’t make me imagine if I was captured and return there ‘cause I knew there’s no guarantee. I'D RATHER DIE TO FIGHT FOR MY FREEDOM. Ssstt... maybe that was also a kind of reason why I left home... I mean, my mom didn’t want me to join SOLDIER and it’s against my freedom.

I also hate being alone or feeling lonely so maybe I’m afraid of being abandoned by the whole world. I’m glad I knew Kunsel didn’t abandon me through what I read on mails, Cissnei also helped me too. Those made me still able to cope with, not a total loneliness... and Cloud (whatever his state) is with me, I would never abandon him too. But..., the final letter Aerith sent to me was another nightmare. I’d never did what I’m afraid the most to my one and only love--I tried to fulfill my promise, heck I never knew I had been stuck for 4 years; but I feel Iike she did it to me, crushin’ my hope. Can’t blame her but still....dammit!

self-confidence level.  Are you askin’ me? When was I ever not being confident? vulnerabilities. Whatever it is, I never wanna show you that.

Tagged by: @brawlfists (//you can see Zerith here!) Tagging: @gaeaheal @finalhxaven​ @finalheavn​ @fatescourge @blackcowledbat @penjarah @illecebrcus​ @unforestalledreturn​ @coscuvilheiro​ @brokeniisms​ @elaceto​ @holywhitemateria​ @hatredheld​ And anyone who didn’t do this yet. No force, it’s a freedom!

[shattersstar]

one day at a time

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader  Prompt: A young kid with black curly locks, save the white streak though. He was clad in bright colours, a domino mask shielding his face. But Jason knew him, he knew him all to well. “I didn’t give up.” The young boy, who’s voice sent a shiver up Jason’s spine, whispered. “And look what happened to you.” He hissed as you turned his face towards you. “Hey, don’t do that.” You held his chin between your index finger and thumb, brow quirked as Jason rolled his eyes. He was too exhausted to stay angry. aka the time Jason was bleeding out and some old friends come to talk him out of dying. Again.     Warning: angst, injuries   a/n: ive been trying to write,,but my brain is dead so take this its been sitting in my drafts for weeks? months? i dont remember. feedback is always appreciated

I know you’re feeling weighed down tonight / And you can’t find the breaks / Every day is too long for you / You were sworn to your fate / But we got everything we need, baby / In the memories we make / In a world of reinventions / It’s never too late

Jason didn’t startle awake, he wasn’t foggy of his surroundings with adrenaline pumping dangerously through his system. He was slow to blink his eyes open, a low groan pulling from his lips as he tried to push himself up. His arms ached as he dropped them back to his side, staring up at what used to be a ceiling. There was now a large gaping hole from where he had been thrown through. Part of his helmet was broken away, blood dripping into his eyes, some of the metal dug into his eyebrow. He let out another grunt, back shifting against the ground. The ringing in his ears had faded and the low hum of the fluorescents brought him back to the real world.

Besides that, it was eerily quiet. Maybe the metas who were hired to kill him (or so Jason assumed) weren’t coming to finish the job, but he highly doubted that. He tried to wipe the blood out of his eye, mind far off as he barely debated what his next move was. That was until a small laugh alerted Jason, he shouldn’t have been laying here so long. He tried to sit up again, until someone placed a hand on his forehead, gently pushing his head back into the ground. “How do we always find ourselves here?” You tsked, walking around him. Jason sighed, rigid body relaxing once again. 

“Guess it’s pretty common for me to be bleeding out in warehouses huh?” He replied, only now realizing how dry his throat was. You frowned at his words, squatting next to him. You always did hate when he made jokes about his death. The only time you didn’t express your dislike was when he said he was going as a zombie for Halloween. “I think the bride of Frankenstein would be better.” You had hummed, fingers brushing the white streak of hair out of his face.

“What’re you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” You countered, clicking your tongue as your fingers skirted over his knee. Jason hissed through his teeth, straining to look at you. “That looks bad.”

“A skimmed knees is the least of my problems.”

“Guess so.” You stood at your full height, one leg on either side of his body. You sat down, straddling him. Jason let out a groan, sudden pain ricocheting through his body. “You always did have trouble letting me be on top.”

“Ha ha.” He managed to keep his sarcastic edge, while your smirk pulled into a grin.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Laying here where you could be found, bleeding out, not calling for help; take your pick.”

“I was gonna call Tim.”

You frowned again, “We both know he’s out of the city.” Jason closed his eyes, a sigh pulling from his lips. “And we both also know your comms aren’t working.”

“Your point being?”

“You know my point.” Jason stayed quiet, eyes now trained on the sky he could see through the ceiling. You followed his gaze, shaking your head. “You haven’t acknowledge the fact your waist it cut open.” You moved to sit on the ground beside him, crossing your legs as the pain in his side exploded into his mind. He contained a string of curses as he looked down at it, his gloved hand cradling the wound.

“Thanks for that.” He muttered, turning to face you.

“You can’t ignore the pain Jason, I’m not going to let you.”

“Why not?” He damn near whined. He was so tired, he had gone through so much and wouldn’t you of all people just let him be? Let him stay there until his veins no longer pumped with blood, and his mind finally went quiet. Till the pain in the world stopped being his responsibility. He was already on his way to becoming empty, only living to fight despite the fact you’d always remind him, “that’s not a life Jason, not a true one and one I know you don’t wanna live.” He used to hate how well you knew him, how you could piece together his thoughts before he could, and how you always spoke with such love in your voice. He thought you would stop one day, that the fullness of your heart would shrink, but it never seemed to. Even now he knew your words were fabricated out of that love you had often wrapped him up in, taking a moment to shield the world from the boy you cherished.

“Because you promised me something.”

“And I broke it when–”

“No, not that one. You promised me you’d fight like hell to come back home. I knew you couldn’t promise to come back, but I knew you could promise to try.” Jason didn’t notice the tears pooling into his eyes till you pulled his helmet off, a hand cupping his cheek. He leaned into your touch, letting the mixture of blood, sweat and tears run onto your skin. 

“I miss you.” You broke, unable to keep that love inside as you spoke softly. Jason replied by placing a kiss onto your palm, you felt so warm, so real. “You can’t do this though, you have to try.”

“I don’t want to.” He admitted, as you let out a long exhale.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t care what you want. Your life is so much bigger than just you and you know that. You don’t have to want to, or succeed even, but you just have to try my love.”

“It would be better this way.”

“No it wouldn’t Jason.” Your voice strained, cracking as you sniffled. You buried your head in your hands, shoulders slumped. Jason tried to open his mouth to tell you not to cry, he didn’t want this fleeting moment to be like this. He wanted your smile and warm kisses, but no words could form, they all choked in his throat and jolted around his skull.

“Y/n’s right y’know.” A familiar voice suddenly added, feet shuffling in the shadows behind you. You looked over your shoulder, nodding as you scrubbed a hand over your face. Jason’s heart rate spiked as he squinted at the figures until you placed a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, just friends.” You soothed, moving to sit on your knees. “Call him, because we both know this isn’t your time.” Your fingers scathed over his hairline, twirling his white locks in your hand before brushing them away from his face. You slipped your other hand into his pocket, pulling out the small device Bruce had given him all the years ago with a nervous expression. “For whenever you need it.” He had said, looking off in the distance as Jason took it with hesitation.

You placed it in Jason’s free hand, closing his fist around it. “They’re gonna find him soon,” The familiar voice was matched to a face as Roy stepped into the light, smiling softly. “Hey Jay.” He waved, his other hand wrapped around someone else's. A young kid with black curly locks, save the white streak though. He was clad in bright colours, a domino mask shielding his face. But Jason knew him, he knew him all to well. “I didn’t give up.” The young boy, who’s voice sent a shiver up Jason’s spine, whispered. “And look what happened to you.” He hissed as you turned his face towards you. 

“Hey, don’t do that.” You held his chin between your index finger and thumb, brow quirked as Jason rolled his eyes. He was too exhausted to stay angry. You hummed in approval, pressing a kiss to Jason’s forehead. Your lips lingered against his skin as they slipped down his broken nose to his split lip. “We’ll meet again my love, I can promise you that.” You said softly, mouth hovering over his before you left him with the faintest of kisses. Jason’s eyes fell shut as did yours. Your kiss was a phantom touch, barely there and gone the next minute.

His eyes shot open, scanning the room as the voices of the men who had bested him erupted from above. His helmet was strewn aside, the only light now from the stars as the light bulbs had finally flickered out. The only light being from the stars and the flashing of the distress signal wrapped in Jason’s hand of course.

He stayed unmoved as he tried to remember the way your lips felt on his, wishing he could’ve said all the things he mulled over in the dark of your once shared apartment. But part of him knew you heard it all, or at least the version he stored in his mind did. Maybe it was too idealistic for someone like him to imagine there would be some chance of seeing you again, but wasn’t everything about him just that? He was the boy who died and lived again, and one day he’ll die (again) and you’ll come to brush the hair away from his face, kissing his forehead and taking him by the hand to the place you were waiting in.

But till than, he’ll keep his promise to try.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi, love!! First of all, I'm discovering wonderful fics I've never read because of people's questions in your Tumblr so... thank you so f****** much!!! Now, do you have a list or would you recommend me some fics where John is a doctor? Can be in Afghanistan, with Sarah, AUs of any time and type... But where John being a doctor is an important part of the fic or the principal one. Thank you, lovely!! By the way, I've been reading your comments about the John hate and I agree with you!! 😘😘

Hi Lovely!

Ahhhhh okay you’re in luck, because I was sorting a list of “sick fics” and one of the categories was “John Takes Care of Sherlock” so I can add those onto these other “doctor John” fics!  I don’t know if I have any where he is strictly a doctor, but let’s see what’s sorted in my bookmarks right now!

DOCTOR / CARETAKER JOHN

Whispers in the Dark by coloured_ink (G, 833 w. || Bed Sharing, Anxious Sherlock, Anxiety, Caring John, Spooning, Little Spoon Sherlock) – Sherlock has anxiety attacks. Good thing John always knows what to do.

Static by Johnnlocked (Krullenbol2602) (G, 917 w. || Fluff, H/C, Doctor John, Headaches, POV Sherlock, Fluff, H.C, Pre-TSo3) – Sherlock suffers from a headache.

The Most Awful Thing by whitchry9 (K+, 1,072 w. || H/C, Holmes Brothers, Seizures) – When Mycroft witnesses Sherlock having a seizure, he is at a complete loss as to what he should do. Thankfully, John is there.

Cuddling by GraciousK (G, 1,107 w. || Fluff and Angst, Cuddling/Snuggling, Fluff, Hypothermia) – When John finally finds Sherlock, he’s hypothermic and delirious. John warms him up the only way Sherlock will allow: body heat. It ends up more angsty than sexy. Part 2 of 30-day OTP Challenge: Johnlock

Bringing Colour to the World by SD_Ryan (G, 1,168w. || Est. Relationship, Sickfic, Fluff, Schmoop) – In which we encounter a sick detective, a snuggle on the couch, and a silly fairytale.

Shut Up and Sleep by Cumberbatch Critter (T, 1,257 w. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship) – Sherlock has a knack for hurting himself, although not entirely on purpose. John is a doctor, and it’s a good thing he’s there.

Mentality by Cumberbatch Critter (T, 1,350 w. || Friendship, Hurt / Comfort, THoB Fic, Doctor John) – It was weird. But Sherlock was having a panic attack. Re-write of the Hounds of the Baskerville scene. 

Lost Without My Army Doctor by ItsRealForUs (K, 1,499 w. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Migraines, Doctor John, Domestics) – Sherlock’s fighting a losing battle with his migraine when John comes home to help.

The Two of Us Against the World by slashscribe (T, 1,617 w. || Post-TAB, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Drug Addiction, Anxious Sherlock, Angsty Fluff) – John is there to take care of Sherlock as he comes down from his overdose in The Abominable Bride. Set immediately after the tarmac, back in 221B.

Conciliatory Coffee (It’s All Fine) by dget (K+, 1,635 w. || Hurt / Comfort, Friendship, Post-TRF Reunion) – "He can feel John’s shuddering breaths in his own lungs, feel John’s heart beating behind his own sternum.“ Because John Watson is a doctor, and Sherlock Holmes is a detective, and neither really knows how to be anything else. A post-Reichenbach reunion oneshot. Can be read as Johnlock.

The Doctor’s Capable Hands by Totally-Out-Of-It (K+, 2,012 w. || Sherlock Whump, Doctor John, Hurt/Comfort, Hospitals, Anxious Sherlock) – Sherlock is injured during a chase. John sits watchful at his bedside in the hospital and wonders. He wouldn’t leave Sherlock alone like this. Especially not if Sherlock wanted him to stay.

This is Life in Colour by agent iz hyper (K+, 2,038 w. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Sherlock Whump, Doctor John) – John thought with a flash of amusement that only Sherlock Holmes could look like he was about to pass out and still maintain his usual level of acerbic scorn. “You’re a git,” he told him mildly. “And an idiot,” he added as an afterthought, though no less pointedly.  A look into the perks of being both a doctor and a soldier when one is the friend of Sherlock Holmes.

Assurance by belovedmuerto (T, 2,382 w. || Bed-Sharing, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Idiots in Love) – It’s not so much the ‘you’re half-dead, you wanker,’ or even the broken ribs, the hairline fracture of the pelvis, the dislocated shoulder and knee, and the wrenched ankle.

Intensive Care by aceofhearts61 (T, 2,539 w. || Ace!Sherlock / Straight John Queerplatonic Relationship, Hurt Comfort, Angst, Cuddles and Snuggles, Hugs, Doctor!John, Medical Procedures) – In which John looks after Sherlock directly following the events of “Bless You and Keep You.” Sequel Fic. Part 15 of A Love with No Name

Green Carnation by glenien (T, 2,616 w. || Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Meta-Fic, Angst and Fluff, Communication, Post-TAB) – John takes Sherlock home. Part 1 of It’s No Longer Eighteen Ninety-Five

Someone Else’s Heart by thisprettywren (E, 4,188 w. || First Time, H/C, POV Sherlock, Caretaking John, Pining Idiots) – A crime scene, a rainstorm, and something they both should have known all along.

The Sum of His Parts by CommonNonsense (T, 4,311 w. || Body Worship, First Kiss / Time) – There are eleven major organ systems in the human body. Sherlock knows about all of them to some degree, but none fascinate him as much as the ones that make up John Watson.

Very Good Indeed by StillWaters1 (T, 4,531 w. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Doctor John, John Whump) – John Watson was a doctor, trained to observe details; a fact Sherlock had never been more aware of than when a drugged John’s lifesaving instructions were based on an unlabeled syringe and an unconscious murder suspect’s body.

This Time by Radon65 (T, 4,766 w. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship) –  He has practically just finished talking to Lestrade when it happens. A sudden dizziness assaults his brain, things tip sideways, and he barely catches himself on the arm of the sofa to slow his descent before he collapses altogether to the floor.

A Case of Identity by PostcardsfromTheoryland (T, 4,978 w. ||  Post-TRF, John on Holiday, Pining Sherlock, Whump, Angst, Reunion) – All John wanted was to get away from London for a few weeks. No people pointing and whispering about Sherlock Holmes when he walked past, no reporters wanting an “exclusive” about the dead detective, just some rest and relaxation in the sunshine. Then again, these holiday trips never seem to go as planned.

Needles by Kryptaria (M, 5,194 w. || Hurt / Comfort, Friendship, Needles, Referenced/Implied Drug Use, Doctor John) – At the end of January, 2010, John and Sherlock move to 221-B Baker Street. By mid-February, John takes up his role not only as Sherlock’s guardian and helper, but also his doctor. As the months pass, they grow closer and the trust between them deepens, until Sherlock puts it to the ultimate test.

I think You Need A Doctor by TheGoodDirector (M, 5,254 w. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Sherlock Whump, Mistaken Couple, Humour, Platonics, Mary is Nice) – John’s not been to Baker Street in four months and returns to find a bleeding Consulting Detective. John can’t help but take care and put up with him. Set after The Sign of Three/Before His Last Vow.

Recovery by thesignsofserbia (T, 5,948 w. || HLV-Fix It / Rewrite, Villain Mary, Pining Sherlock, Major Character Injury, Scars, Self-Hatred, POV Sherlock, Doctor John, Friends to Lovers) – Set after the confrontation with Mary, and Sherlock’s cardiac arrest, John stays at 221B to aid Sherlock’s recovery, forcing them to confront wounds both old and new as they try to heal their damaged relationship.

The Death of Doubt by Gingerhermit (E, 6,584 w. || Alternate Canon, BAMF John, POV Sherlock, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Hurt/Comfort, Angst/Drama, Meddling Mycroft) – Mycroft asks for John’s help in rescuing Sherlock from his Serbian captors.

Survival Instinct by shirleyholmes (T, 7,162 w. || Post-TRF, First Kiss, Schmoop, Nightmares, Fluff & Angst, Grief, Idiots in Love) – After Sherlock’s “comeback” John starts obsessing with constantly making sure he’s alive (checking his heartbeat etc.)

The doctor is in by PlainJane (E, 7,581 w. || Omegaverse || Sex Therapist, Anal, Hand Jobs, Frottage, Virgin Sherlock) – Sherlock is a young alpha with an aversion to his cycle. John is a gender medicine specialist. Nothing could possibly go wrong… Part 1 of Doctors and detectives

I’m Pretty Sure This Changes Shit by cwb (E, 7,672 w. || Fluff, Cudding, Doctor/Patient, Accidents) – Sherlock finds increasingly ridiculous ways to get John to patch him up after hurting himself.

The T-Shirt Thief by watsonsherlocksuniverse (T, 7,968 w. || Pining Sherlock, Doctor John, First Kiss, Canon Fix-It, Developing Rel., Mutual Pining) – Sherlock steals John’s t-shirt from the laundry. John catches him wearing it one evening, fluff ensues with an endeared yet teasing John?

You’re a Doctor, Fix me by edken (G, 8,342 w. || Fluff / Cuddling) – Sherlock doesn’t do anything halfway, and that includes getting sick. John nurses a very sick flatmate back to health using cuddles, forehead kisses, and a massage. Humor and fluff promised this time, but also some character analysis because who doesn’t love that?

Matters of National Security by mistyzeo (E, 8,465 w. || Jealous Sherlock, First Time, RST, Idiots in Love, Frottage) – John starts dating a male client of Sherlock’s, and Sherlock can’t figure out why he’s so incensed about it.

Incapacitation by Cumberbatch Critter (T, 9,424 w. || Hurt / Comfort, Friendship, Sick Sherlock, Doctor John, Appendicitis) – The doctor had just asked how bad the pain was when the pain spiked. Sherlock’s initial response was a gasp that evolved into a whimper. “Ten,” he gasped. “Ten…”

Someone I Love by hudders-and-hiddles (M, 10,002 w. || Canon Compliant, HLV-Filler Fic, Pre-Slash, Jealous John, PIning Sherlock, Angst & Fluff, UST/URT, Dog Tags) – John gets married and Sherlock finds comfort in wearing John’s identity tags around his wrist.

The Thin Line by Odamaki (M, 10,809 w. || Virgin Sherlock, Awkwardness, Confessions, First Times, Anal) – John swallows. Keeps his eyes on Sherlock. Begs him not to ruin him.Sherlock leans forward over the witness box ever-so slightly, “I was distracted,” he informs the court, “by my partner, John Watson.”

In A Changing Age by allonsys_girl (E, 15,590 w. || Victorian AU, Virgin / Demi Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, Mild H/C) – Sherlock wakes up in the 19th century, with no idea how he got there.

Partners in Crime by Richefic (T, 16,560 w. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Sick John, Meddling Mycroft, Caring Sherlock, Domestics) – John Watson receives some devastating news which puts a spanner in his medical ambitions. Will Sherlock prove capable of the kind of comfort and reassurance he needs or will their partnership be ended before its even begun? Set between 1.1 and 1.2.

I Will Take Care Of You by SailorChibi (T, 16,664 w. || Hurt/Comfort, Sick Sherlock, BAMF John, BAMF Lestrade, Reunion Fic) – Two years after Sherlock’s death, John comes to find him on the sofa. Wounded and ill, Sherlock is convinced he’s hallucinating and refuses to share any details about Moran or the fact that Mycroft has been compromised. That doesn’t stop John from stepping up and taking care of the last of Moriarty’s web, BAMF-style.

And A Doctor by StillWaters1 (T, 27,393 w. || Friendship, Doctor John, Whump, Soldier / Doctor Dichotomy, Five and One) – It was only when people actually saw John working as a physician that they began to understand: that it wasn’t just about bullets and IEDs and trauma care under fire. That “doctor” actually covered a pretty wide field. And that John was bloody good at covering ground. 5 times Dr. Watson treated others and 1 time he treated himself.

The Midas Touch by flawedamythyst (E, 32,231 w. || Magical Realism, John has a Magical Cock, Dub Con, Healer John) – John Watson has a medical condition that means everyone he sleeps with is instantly healed of all illness and injury. This causes complications when Sherlock breaks his arm, and even more complications when Sherlock falls in love with him. Yes, this is a story where John has a literal magic healing cock. It’s a lot less cracky than you’re probably imagining. Warning: Contains complex issues of sexual consent, although not between Sherlock and John.

The Yellow Poppies by SilentAuror (E, 34,952 w. || H/C, Nightmares, HLV Fix-It, PTSD, Trauma, POV Sherlock, Doctor John) – Sherlock is threatened and assaulted in the hospital immediately after having been shot in the heart, first by Mary, then by Magnussen. As he recovers at Baker Street with John and plans the attack on Appledore with Mycroft, he fights to work through the trauma caused by these two visits. Set during His Last Vow.

Corpus Hominis by mycapeisplaid (E, 47,709 w. || Casefic, Fluff, Romance, Frottage) - John knows the human body intimately. He’s had plenty of opportunity for study as a doctor, soldier, and lover. There’s one particular body, however, he knows very little about. When Sherlock launches himself head-first into a new obsession and they get sent on a case in an unlikely location, the pair discovers each other’s bodies with confusing yet delightful (and sometimes hilarious) results.

Electric Pink Hand Grenade by BeautifulFiction (E, 67,718 w. | First Time, First Kiss, Headaches and Migranes) – If Sherlock’s brain is a hard drive, then these attacks are an electro-magnetic pulse.“ Sherlock Holmes does not do anything by half, not even a migraine. It falls to John to witness one of the greatest minds he has ever known tear itself apart, and he must do his best to help Sherlock pick up the pieces.

The Moonlight and the Frost by CaitlinFairchild (E, 77,289 w. || Case Fic, Post-HLV, Self Harm, Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Oral/Anal/Rimming, Romance, Angst, Mary is Not Nice) – John has to somehow rebuild his life in the wake of Mary’s betrayal and Sherlock’s deceptions.

To Light Another’s Path by BeautifulFiction (E, 128,654 w. || Post-TGG, H/C, Case Fic, First Time/Kiss, Drug Addiction) – Teaching John to observe seems to be a losing battle, but when Sherlock falls ill and submits himself to John’s care, will he realise that there is more to life than the science of deduction? Meanwhile, there is a murder to solve, and John must try and convince Sherlock not to sacrifice his own health for the sake of the case.

The Horse and his Doctor by khorazir (T, 129,003 w. || Horse / Vet AU || Magical Realism, Horses, Vet John, Horse Sherlock, Implied Alcoholism) – Invalided after a run in with a poacher in Siberia, veterinary surgeon John Watson finds it difficult to acclimatise to the mundanity of London life. Things change when a friend invites him along to a local animal shelter and he meets their latest acquisition, a trouble-making Frisian with the strangest eyes and even stranger quirks John has ever encountered in a horse.

MARKED FOR LATER

These fics are just a few I remembered I put into my MFL list recently, and I haven’t read them yet, so read at your own discretion!

A Home for Us by sussexbound (NR, 3,440 w. || Scars, Bedsharing, Grief, Doctor John, Hurt/Comfort, Post-TRF, Implied/Referenced Torture) – He has been on the road for two years, and he is exhausted. He’s almost accepted that he will never see London (John) again—almost. But then there are nights like tonight, where he is weak, and all he can think of is the warmth of the flat they once shared, the crackle of the fire in the hearth, the teasing smile playing at the corner of John’s lips, the boxes of half-eaten Chinese takeaway balanced precariously in their laps. He aches at the memory of it, at the realisation that it is something he may never experience again.

How They Move In Silence by Breath4Soul (M, 3,516+ w., WiP || Doctor John, Doctor/Patient, Voiceless Sherlock, Sick Sherlock, Texting) – Sherlock loses his voice and has to communicate through texts which leads to love confessions.

Recovery by mainegirlwrites (M, 26,935 w. || Injured Sherlock, Disfigured Sherlock, Doctor John, Hurt/Comfort, John Takes Care of Sherlock) – The great Sherlock Holmes is recovering from disfiguring injuries with the help of Dr. John Watson - but can a broken spirit be fixed?

You Go To My Head Series by 7PercentSolution and J_Baillier (E, 257,765+ w. across 8 Stories, WiP || Surgeon AU || Medical Realism, Doctor John / Doctor Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Addiction, Angst, Slow Burn, PTSD, Pining, Insecurity) – This series is an alternate universe one, featuring the exciting medical and romantic adventures of doctors Watson (senior neuroanaesthetist) and Holmes (neurosurgeon).

[kirbythoughtsihave]

He who has conquered the Star

AN: SORRY I wrote this like an hour ago and I am falling asleep right now

    There once was a legend on an ancient planet. A planet of beings so wise and powerful, that only they could defeat themselves. They knew of this, and in order to stay safe, they encourage friendship as much as possible. This worked, and the pitfull of many was fixed by the beings of seemingly infinite wisdom, however even the smartest of minds couldn’t count on luck.

    A group of ancients began to work on the power of friendship, and how it could be used for good. This pleased many, as frenship couldn’t be harmful, right?

    The group tested everything, gathering survey to inform, stalking for info, and experimenting with their own bonds for the sake of knowledge. This disturbed the other ancients and they tried to help the group. This only provided more test subjects as the group lied about their feelings and waited to see the results of this path.

    In the end, they found that friendship could be physically manifested and that it could be used to create and destroy. They created tools; tools of hope, dreams, and power. Wish granting devices and cretors that created on their own. However, that group wanted to learn more, so they focused more on the components of the friendship.

        Hear, Soul, Mind, and Dark were all the components of friendship. This puzzled the group, how could matter of darkness be a friend, and so they isolated the component, into a matter most dark, and with this condensation of darkness, a being was born.

        The scientist freaked out and tried to destroy their creation,but all of the energy would be abused by the void. The group screamed for the other ancients, and they came rushing by as the dark being tried to consume the group. The whole planet tried to fend back the being of their own creation, the being trying to find the group that created it. All it knew was destruction; whether it be from it or them.

    The void absorbed every bit of magic and technology thrown at it, and created spawns to help with the search, until four individuals joined forces to fight against a common threat. These four allies used the matters that the matter of dark was missing and forge them into sphere and used those sphers to imporsion the monster.

        The battle was won, but the lives lost caused the planet to become inhabitable. The planets intrade with the ancients home collapsed without an economically infrastructure, and the group, the indirect destroyers of planets, were scattered in hiding, may they be out of shame, or out of fear.

        This only got worse, as the way to create beings out of matter became known, people foolishly began created life. However, things changed.

    A group of sorcerers combined all the matters of friendship, gave the creation a heroic heart, and took away all traces of darkness. This bore two beings, of yellow and pink, however that story is for another time child.

    Kirby shook themselve,’ why were they having flashbacks now,? We are in ANOTHER DIMENSION...’. Their eyes darted to their side. Dark Meta Knight, Darouch, and Marx were annoying Meta Knight as Susie and Magolor observed. Rick, Kine, and Coo were talking to some of the helpers who were...helping. Gooey was floating next to Ribbon and Adeline, and the girls had nevose looks on their faces. Taranza was talking to Bandanna Dee and Dedede, most likely about government stuff- the sort of thing that made Kirby fall asleep whenever Dedede complained about it during a meal.

    Speaking of meals…”Hey Adeline. Is STILL LIFE ready?”

    “Kirby...I just used it.”

    “Yeah but…….that looks to be boss coming up”

    The artist looked in front to see several essence surround an elegant door, and paused. “Guys! I think that’s where all these portals are coming from!” The group all stopped their conversation and examined the gold door that was coming up.

    “Okay, are we all healed?” asked Bandanna Dee.

    “I could go for some food right now”

    “But are you healed?”

    “...Yeah..” The group did a double check, Kine and Darouch were missing some health, but the group was in great condition. With that, they entered the door to the corrupted officiant.

(0^0)

    Everyone felt tired, they had just fought Hyness and the Three Mage Sisters. The helpers that helped were collapsed by the body of Hynessx leaving only the dream friends and Kirby standing(besides the aforementioned sisters). The Sisters opened a portal back to the Gamble Galaxy with four warp stars waiting for them. They restored Hyness's heart, and were on the warpstar when another portale appeared. The star allies look at Hyness in suspicion.

        “Juh? Japologa, but this is not me Majaja.”

    The allies looked at each other and sighed, ‘welp, I guess we’re doing this’ was a common thought among them.

    “Wait, I might be able to help.” Hyness summoned the pink spheres of legend and shot them at each of the warp stars. The stars lit up and combined in a flash of light, and each crating a bigger star, a STAR SPARKLER. The allies nodded and hopped on in a four single file line, one group per four stars. As they entered into the darkness they heard a faint, “We’ll take care of anything that comes out!” from the mage sister below.

    Inside the portal, the darkness faded as the group ended up on a large flat mirroring surface, as what looked to be the galaxy watched. In the center layed a morphing blob of sharp spikes of darkness. It molded itself into a giant form, larger than any being that Kirby and the gang have ever fought sans Star Dream.

        The giant was TRUE VOID TERMINA, and it was a titan on darkness.

    Eyes appeared all over the body and the four stars split up to take the down. Rick, Kine, Coo, Gooey, and Marx took the left, Adeline, Ribbon, Darouch, and Dark Meta Knight took the right. Taranza, Magolor, and Susie shot the eye in the back, while the main four took the eyes in the belly and on the head. The titan’s face mask flew off as Kirby’s star flew inside.

    “This is gross,” mutter King Dedede.

    “Said the person who was eating rotten food earlier,” quipped Meta Knight.

    “Possession!’

    “Guys could we not fight each other in the middle of fighting someone else” said Bandanna Dee.

        “Fine”

    “Fine”

    The Shell came off with the combined forces of an electric  hammer, sword, and sphere. The force of the shell blew the four friends out of the body of the void.

           Void Termina’s body directed the newly unleashed power brought upon by the removal of the shell and wings of a familiar foe sprang from it's back. The white and red wings had eyes form on them, and the star allies knew that they had to do this phase again.

           The titan's body cramped up in pain from the shots fired by the four stars, and was sent crashing into the ground with the loudest thud some of them have ever heard.

           Again, the face-mask fell off, but this time the four Star Sparklers rushed into the body of the colossal. Then their eyes met with eyes most familiar.

“ Kirby...what”

“Kid...explain”

“How”

“What”

“Who”

           Kirby froze. Those eyes. The eyes of the star traveler. The eyes of a created being, the eyes of puffballs. They were staring at them with the innocence of a newborn. Kirby stared at the being for what seem to be an eternity, but both knights were re yelling at them. They glanced at their friends, eyes in confusion, panic, and fear. The knights’ eyes were one of fearful recognition.

“You recognize them”, stated Kirby

“They….the eyes”

“What's going on?” asked Gooey.

Kirby laughed and said with a sign,” There were tales of the star conqueror. The being that came on a spring breeze. Living anywhere and consuming all.”

“ Why does that thing look like you demanded Susie.

“For they are me and I am them. We were made the same, but the experiences we had changed us.”

“What about us?” asked Dark Metela Knight.

“You were created by that wizard, right?  What made you think he had the right recipe, o’or winged one?”

“Kirby, stop talkin’ like that” said Dedede.

“ Apologizes, but this is a family matter an-” Kirby was cut off as a laser was shot at them. “ Oh right, final boss.”

The dream friends rushed at the boss, swinging everything they had, and used the confusion and betrayal as fuel to fan their flames.  The orb laughed and smiled as the final blow came down, knowing the fate they will receive. The orb exploded and everything went to white.

(0^0)

Kirby woke up to the burnt face of Zan Partizanne tending their wounds. “ What happened?” asked the pink puffball.

“After you left we fought a butterfly and then there was an explosion on the other side of the portal and all of you guys came out with magical injuries.”

“ If you really think about it...isnt everything a ma-”

“That's it, you aren't getting the wait on your explanation.”

“Wwwaaa-”

“ EVERYONE!!! KIRBY IS AWAKE!!”

         The room flooded in with helpers and dream friends. They all had a pensive look on their faces. “Kirby...what was that?”

Ohh..ohh…

“ It's a long story,but here's the abridged version.”

[stupidfanfics]

Till Death Do Us Part: A Barry Allen Fan Fiction

Chapter 6: Ok?...Ok

Word Count: 3048

“Barry?” “Barry!” I yelled causing Cisco to stare at me. “What? Did I miss it?” I let out a sigh of frustration, “You overshot by about six blocks.” “My bad.” I rolled my eyes looking at Cisco who just shrugged his shoulders. “You there yet?” Cisco asked Barry sitting in an office chair and pulling up a map on the monitors. “What are you doing?” Quickly at the sound of Caitlin’s voice I pressed a button shutting down every monitor. “Nothing,” Cisco dumbly replied. “Who were you guys talking to?” “No one.” Caitlin stepped forward. “Are you talking to Barry?” “Who?” I couldn’t help but giggle as I watched the scene before me unfold. Which, of course, cause Caitlin to snap her head around and glare at me. “Barry Allen. Struck by lightning? Was in a coma for nine months? Woke up being able to run faster than the speed of sound? Monica’s childhood best friend? Ring a bell?” she asked raising an eyebrow. “No. Haven’t talked to him.” Cisco mumbled leaning back into his chair. “Guys, there’s fire everywhere!” Barry’s yell loudly played over the speakers. “Shit, we’re screwed.” I whispered. “Guys, are you still there?” “Everybody's out. What else you got for me?” Barry said in a cocky tone. “God, would you just shut up.” I yelled into my mic. “What do yo-” Caitlin cut Barry off, “Barry, it’s Caitlin.” Cisco and I shared awkward glances as we waited for Barry’s response. “Heyyy, Caitlin. How’s your day?” A small smile crept onto my face. “Get back to STAR Labs. Now.” Caitlin sternly said turning to Cisco and I. “On my way.” Barry flashed into the Cortex. “Have you three lost your minds?” Caitlin yelled. “Who do you think you are?” “Well, I’m the eyes and ears and he’s the feet.” Cisco replied. “And, what does that make you Monica?” she asked swiveling around to face me. “Oh me,” I pointed to myself, “I’m the team leader. Just making sure nothing gets out of hand.” “Well you obviously aren’t doing to could at that. You could’ve gotten yourself killed.” she retorted pointing to Barry. “You can’t be running around this city like some supersonic fireman.” “Why not?” Barry asked stepping forward. “This is what we talked about. Me using my speed to do good.” “We talked about you helping us contain other people who might have been affected by the particle accelerator explosion. Metahumans. And aside from Clyde Mardon we haven’t found any.” “But Caitlin, people in this city need help.” I said supporting Barry’s case. “And he can help them.” “We can help them.” Cisco corrected. “Will you please say something.” Barry, Cisco, and I all turned around to be met with Dr. Wells wheeling around. “I think what Caitlin is saying, in her own spectacular angry way, is that we are just beginning to understand what your body is capable of. Not to sound like a broken record Mr. Allen… I do caution restraint.” “Dr. Wells, I doubt restraint is how you got to be the man you are today.” “In a wheelchair and a pariah. Lack of restraint is what made me these things. Know your limits.” Dr. Wells retorted wheeling off. “Don’t expect me to patch you up every time you break something.” Caitlin disclosed to Barry, storming off. “Hey umm, anything happen out there today?” I asked Barry walking to stand in front of him. “The sensors in the suit were kicking back some weird telemetry, like your vitals spiked for a few seconds.” Cisco explained. Barry shook his head, “Never felt better.” Cisco then handed Barry his phone, “Hey Joe, everything all right?” Joe. I haven't seen him in so long, which is kind of weird to think because he’s basically my replacement dad. I guess that’s one of the reasons why I missed Central City so much, here I have family and friends. In Seattle I had nothing. A gust of wind interrupted me from my, what you could call, contemplating. “Where’s he going?” I asked. “Apparently his, ‘day job beckons’” Cisco responded. “Now, when do you think he’ll realize he didn’t take his clothes?” mumbled Dr. Wells.

“You lied to us! How could you not us you’re experiencing dizzy spells? We’re your doctors.” Caitlin scolded Barry, “God knows what’s going on inside your body. Your cells are in a constant state of flux. You could be experiencing cardiopulmonary failure or a transient ischemic attack.” Barry gave me a confused look, searching for an explanation. “Mini stroke. Probably not.” I told him. “You of all people should know that in science, we share. We do not keep secrets.” Caitlin said storming off. “Wow… I haven’t seen anyone make her that angry since Ronnie.” Cisco said handing a tablet to Dr. Wells. “Ronnie was Caitlin’s fiance? The one that died the night of the accelerator explosion?” Barry asked. “Yeah. He is… missed.” Dr. Wells replied staring off into the distance. “Well… let’s figure out why this is happening to you.” I said switching the subject.

“We’re all set.” Cisco said leaning on a pile of boxes, “A little padding. Just in case.” Cisco walked back into the room where I was sitting with Caitlin and Dr. Wells. “You’re sure about this Cisco?” Barry yelled. “Most home treadmills have a maximum speed of about 12 miles per hour. This one, has been Cisco’ed.” Cisco explained, “Trust me. It can handle your speed.” “Okay.” Barry started walking on the treadmill as we all waited in anticipation. “Heart rate, blood pressure, nerve conduction all normal.” Caitlin said staring at her screen. “For Barry.” Dr. Wells added. “Brainwave function within standard limits.” Caitlin continued. Cisco laughed, “I told you the treadmill could take it.” “Guys, look at the glucose levels.” I uttered. “Oh my god, of course.” “Right?” “It was so obvious.” “Glucose levels. Barry!” I shouted, “We think we know why you keep-” Before I could finish my sentence Barry’s body was flung into the stack of boxes. “Passing out.” I whispered.

Barry let out a groan when he got out of the bed in the med-bay. “I passed out again?” he asked as Caitlin, Cisco, and I helped him up. “Total metabolic failure brought on by acute hypoglycemia.” Caitlin explained. “I’m not eating enough. So an IV bag, and I’m good to go?” Barry asked me. I let out a laugh, “More like 40. Guess you were thirsty.” “We’re gonna need to fashion you a new diet based on your metabolic changes.” Caitlin reported. “I’ve done a few calculations. You need to consume an amount equal to roughly 850 tacos. Unless we’re talking cheese and guac, which is like a whole other set of equations.” I shook my head in disbelief at Cisco’s response. “For mexican I recommend Tito’s.” A familiar voice rang through the cortex. “On Bruckner Avenue? Best burrito in the city.” I looked up at the source of the voice. “Joe.” I whispered to myself. “Detective West. What brings you to STAR Labs?” Dr. Wells inquired taking the words right out of my mouth. “When I couldn’t find you at your lab,” Joe said pointing at Barry, “I started doing a little research. Turns out there’s been reports of a red streak around the city. Stopping muggers, rescuing people from burning buildings.” “You didn’t tell him we’re working together?” Dr. Wells asked Barry. Barry shook his head, “Joe I can explain.” “You already have a job in law enforcement, Barry. I suggest you get back to it.” Joe scolded. “Mhm,” Joe turned to face Caitlin, “Don’t look at me. I’m on your side.” “Joe, we all want what’s best for Barry.” I interrupted. “Monica, don’t get yourself into this. And besides if you wanted what was best for Barry, you’d tried to talk him out of this lunacy instead of encouraging him going out there risking his life.” “You saw a man control the weather. What are the police gonna do against someone like that?” Barry yelled. “Since the accelerator explosion we suspect there may be more like him.” Joe shook his head in disbelief, “And you’re gonna do what? Catch them? Are you insane? You think because you can run real fast that you’re invincible? You’re not! You’re just a kid. My kid.” Joe finished looking at Dr. Wells. “I’m not your kid, Joe. And you’re not my father.” Barry said shaking his head, “My father’s sitting in Iron Heights. Wrongfully convicted. You were wrong about him. And you’re wrong about this. Now I may not be able to help him, but if I can save someone from a burning building or stop some armed thieves, I’m gonna do it.” “Barry, maybe you should-” “And you can't stop me! So don’t try.” he yelled cutting me off. Joe looked around the room, searching for an answer. “You think you’re so smart. All of you. But you don’t know what you don’t know. And I hope that you’re clever enough to figure it out before somebody gets killed.” Joe finally responded pointing from Dr. Wells to Barry, hen he walked out of the Cortex. “I don’t remember him being that grumpy.” I observed turning to face Barry. “Yeah, well you haven’t really been here the past five years.” he muttered. “Well I’m sorry. I thought friends were supposed to be supportive of each other!” I yelled, “Or did you think there was something else between us? Because apparently something led you to believe it was fine to kiss me.” Barry stared into my eyes, his jaw clenched. “Monica, I’m-” “Sorry? Yeah Barry I know. Save the apologies for someone else.” I said, aggressively grabbing my jacket off my desk and storming out of the Cortex.

“Sorry, the abrasions are already rapidly healing.” I could faintly hear Caitlin’s voice from my desk as she cleaned up Barry’s wounds. “Yeah, I got my ass handed to me.” he responded. “No shit Sherlock.” I muttered to myself. “You got blood on my suit,” Cisco exclaimed. “Yeah Barry, you got blood on Cisco’s suit.” I said, standing up from my desk and folding my arms in front of my chest. “I think some of it belongs to him.” Barry retorted, “Another not-so-friendly meta-human.” Suddenly a man’s face popped up on the monitor. “Danton Black.” Dr. Wells sighed, “He’s a Bio-Geneticist specialized in therapeutic cloning. Growing new organs to replace failing ones.” “Apparently Stagg stole his research and fired him.” Caitlin elaborated. “I saw Black create duplicates from his own body.” Cisco chuckled, “That’s pretty ironic, the guy specializes in cloning and now he can make xeroxes of himself.” “If he was experimenting on himself when he was exposed to the dark matter wave released by the particle accelerator explosion-” “-meet Captain Clone.” Cisco smiled as we all stared at him in disbelief, “Don’t worry I’ll come up with something cooler.”  Barry started walking out the door, “Where are you going?” Caitlin asked. “Joe was right, I’m in way over my head. Yeah, I’m fast but I’m no warrior. Man, I could barely fight one metahuman, let alone six.” “Barry-” Dr. Wells said before Barry could leave, “I understand. Today was a setback. But any grand enterprise has them. And we can never learn to fly without crashing a few times.” Barry shook his head, “This wasn’t a grand enterprise, Dr. Wells… This was a mistake.” With that Barry was gone, leaving the other three scientists left to stare at me. “You’re looking at me like it’s my fault. It’s not. Ok?” Caitlin shook her head as she went back to work.

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked when I walked back into the cortex to find Caitlin experimenting with blood and chemicals. “Trying to help Barry. Or I guess The Streak.” she answered. “The Streak?” “That’s what Iris is calling him on he blog.” I rolled my eyes, “Well, Barry said he was done with this. I hate to say it but I think it’s time to-” “BINGO!” Caitlin exclaimed. “Holy shi- what the hel- what’s going on?” A man began to grow out of the petri dish Caitlin threw on the ground. “ Dr. Wells, Cisco, we need you in the Cortex. Now.” Caitlin said into STAR Labs intercom system. “Hey what’s- holy clone!” Cisco yelled when he walked through the doorway. “Monica, call Barry.” Caitlin ordered. “No, I don’t want anything to do with him.” Caitlin snatched my phone. “Sigourney, call Barry Allen.” “Calling Barry Allen.” A monotone voice coming from my phone explained. I began to mouth the word no over and over again until Barry picked up. “Look, I told you I’m through.” Barry’s voice harshly rang through the phones speaker. “I know, but you need to get to STAR Labs… Right now.” I said in a serious voice before hanging up. Barry flashed in. “Barry, it’s okay” Caitlin reassure him. “It is not okay.” Barry exclaimed standing face-to-face with a clone of Black. “Black is here and he’s just… standing there. That’s not him, is it?” “Looks like you solved the case Mr. CSI.” I said in a sarcastic tone. “It’s one of his replicates.” Dr. Wells answered. “How did you get it?” “I grew him.” Caitlin cockily responded, “I isolated a sample of Black’s blood from your suit, to see if I could trigger the in vitro cultivation process and learn how Black multiplies. So, I exposed the target cells to a protein gel, and they began replicating… into that.” Caitlin finished motioning towards the clone. Barry waved his hand in front of its face. “Why isn’t he… it doing anything?” he questioned. Dr. Wells rolled up his sleeves, “We did a brain scan. Involuntary motor functions are active, little else.” “We think it’s acting as a receiver.” Cisco elaborated. “The clones are an empty shell without Black.” Caitlin continued, “Shut down the real Black and you might shut them all down.” “But how do we know which one is the real Danton Black?” said a confused Barry Allen. “I think it’s pretty obvious Bartholomew.” I remarked. Barry rolled his eyes and turned to face me, “Oh really? Care to explain?” I clapped my hands together, “Well just like you and your unexpected naps, Black has limits. The one showing weakness or fatigue, like you when you forget your hourly Big Belly Burger, is the prime. Take him down, you take them all down.” I said a cocky smile plastered across my face. “Just a theory… but one you might want to put to the test, Mr. Allen.” Dr. Wells said pushing up his glasses. “Plus, I whipped up these high calorie protein bars for you to keep your metabolism up.” Cisco said handing him a bar. Suddenly the clone grunted and began moving away until a loud bang shot through the cortex. I turned to face the source of the bullet, “Any more of them?” Joe asked. “Nope.” Caitlin answered. “Why did it start moving?” Barry yelled turning to face Dr. Wells. “The prime,” he answered. “My guess is, the prime is on the move. This one heard the summons to battle.” “And I know where he was summoned to,” Joe added placing his pistol back in his holster. “Stagg Industries.” Barry stared at Joe, “You should call it in.” “Police can’t fight this. What Black’s become, like Mardon… beyond me. Maybe way beyond them, too. The only person it’s not beyond is you. You gotta do this. I get it. So for once in your life, do what I tell you to do. Go stop him.” Barry gave Joe a small smile before walking up to his suit.

“-but that doesn’t give you the right to murder.” Barry’s scolding voice could be heard over the Cortex speakers before there was a gunshot. As Barry whoosed around a kept an eye on his vitals, constantly making sure they were steady. What? Just because I hated him at the time doesn't mean I couldn’t have cared about his well being. Suddenly Barry’s screamed was played in the cortex as his heart rate increased. I gripped onto the arm of my office chair as more gunshots and screams were heard in the Cortex. I looked over to Cisco who was staring at his computer screen. “Remember Barry, find the prime.” Caitlin spoke into her mic. “There’s too many of them to fight.” “Barry, you need to isolate the prime,” Dr. Wells instructed. “I can’t. It’s impossible.” Barry panted. “Nothing’s impossible Barry. You taught me that.You can do this.” Joe said trying to inspire Barry. After a few minutes of only the sounds of bodies hitting the floor and running Barry finally let out a chuckle. “Barry? Barry, are you all right?” Joe pressed. “I-i’m fine. I’m fine.” he responded, “It’s done.” Suddenly the sound of glass shattering was played through the cortex, I looked over at Caitlin who was just as confused as me. “Hang on!” Barry yelled, “Don’t.” Suddenly Barry began breathing hysterically.

“Tried to save him,” Barry said over the new broadcast. “Doesn’t sound like he wanted to be saved.” Dr. Wells responded. “Yeah, I know how that feels.” I muttered, causing Barry to turn around and give me a stern look to which I just shrugged my shoulders, “What? I’m just being honest. Some people… when they break… they can’t be put together again.” “Some people heal even stronger.” I let out a chuckle at Barry’s ironic response. “I don’t get what’s so funny about this to you.” Barry said, his tone becoming more harsh. “Barry, can I talk to you? Outside?” He nodded his head and followed me out of the cortex. “Look, I know that the way I left things five years ago was not great,” Barry scoffed at my statement. “But we have to put that behind us. Or at least while we’re here.” Barry took a step closer to me, “Why?” I took a step back, “Because Barry, this is my job and I’m supposed to act professional. I’m sorry for what happened that night but we’re both to blame. Let’s just accept the way life is and go on with our lives. Ok?” I asked cocking my head to the side. “Ok.” Barry whispered.     

Taglist:

@lexeeehhh

[shirtlesssammy]

Ghostfacers: 3x13 Recap

Then:

Harry and Ed are just professional paranormal investigators trying to get a book and movie deal.

Now:

The 2007 writers’ strike is over but that’s not stopping Supernatural from laying down a little meta commentary about the unscripted hellscape we all were heading towards. Yay for writers!

Harry and Ed are back to show us that alternate world --the one where they are the expert monster hunters; a world where we’d all be watching Ghostfacers. Catchy theme song aside, I think we can all agree with Dean with this alt-world:

With gunslinger music apropo of their hero status, Ed and Harry exit their car in suitable slow-mo dramatics. Several cars zoom by in the background. Mockumentary style, they catch the audience up on what they’ve been doing since we last saw them in season one. They set their own hours at the Kinko’s they work at, and they’ve assembled a team.

Phase I: The Homework

We meet the Ghostfacers! Alan Corbett is the Intern/Cook, and got involved because he saw Ed put up flyers and wondered where do ghosts come from? Maggie is Ed’s adopted sister, and part of the research team. Spruce is their cameraman, licensed shamanologist, and 1/16 Cherokee.

The Case? Morton House. Every four years this place becomes the most haunted place in America. The Leap Year Ghost, some call it. Corbett brings Ed some french vanilla coffee. Yeah, Corbett’s got the hots for Ed. I mean, how can he not with that really golden, beautiful sort of beard? The meeting ends when one of their parents opens the garage door, breaking up their meeting space. Gold.

Phase II: Infiltration

The Ghostfacers arrive at the Morton House. With no permit, but bolt cutters in hand, they start to bust open the fence surrounding the property when they all hear the rumble of a car and classic rock blasting from its interior. They hide, while Sam and Dean scope the place briefly, before driving away. Ed returns to breaking open the locked gate. They quickly establish Command Center I: The Eagle’s Nest. They place cameras throughout the house. Ed inadvertently compliments Corbett. Reconvening at base camp, the team equips themselves with flashlights and ghosthunting gear.

Phase III: Face Time!

Ed and Corbett scan the first floor with their EMF. Ed calls out for the ghosts to show themselves, while Corbett works the camera and hyperventilates. Ed tries to help by advising Corbett to “Calm the whirlwinds of your mind.”

Harry, Maggie, and Spruce sweep the second floor. Spruce’s camera briefly malfunctions, but it’s no big deal --it’s not like you’re in a haunted house and any little thing could be a sign or anything!

Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god

There’s a rat. Harry believes that rats are like the rats of the world. Harry manages to walk back to the room with the rat when Spruce flings the dead rodent at him.

Meanwhile, Corbett continues to hyperventilate and freak out over nothing when the police arrive! Well, actually, it’s Sam and Dean.

Ed recognizes them immediately. The boys recognize Ed.

SAM: Holy [Bleep]!

DEAN: What?

SAM: Uh, West Texas... the... the tulpa we had to take out. Those two goofballs that almost got us killed... The hellhounds or something?

DEAN: [Bleep] me.

Dean tells Ed to get the hell out, but Ed called ‘dibs’, so they’re not going anywhere.

Meanwhile, the second floor group wander into a room that’s getting readings off the wall, temps dropping 11 degrees, and Spruce getting a specter on his camera. The ghost talks and then is shot, and disappears!

Dean, Sam, Ed, and Corbett head back to base camp. Dean and Sam make it very clear that people that spend the night on February 29th don’t live to talk about their visit. Their talk is interrupted by Harry, Maggie, and Spruce sprinting and screaming down the stairs. Harry then sees the brothers. And the Ghostfacers are not leaving the joint, no matter how hard Dean tries enticing them with ice cream. The team realizes that Corbett is missing. He’s wandering upstairs hoping to communicate with the restless spirits in the house. And he’s kidnapped by one of them just as it turns midnight! Now they’re all stuck in the house --and Sam happily reminds Dean that he’s got two months to live, but they’ll probably not live through the night.

Just then another spirit appears --they’re death echos, spirits that keep reliving their death. Dean tries shocking the spirit out of its loop --sometimes it works, but usually there has to be some connection with the deceased.

The group wanders the house looking for clues about the death echos, and Corbett’s whereabouts. They find information about Freeman Daggett, the house’s last owner, who died in 1964.

Daggett’s house was full of a lifetime supply of army rations and survivalist paraphernalia. He was a hospital janitor and Dean uncovers toe tags in Daggett’s box of Moste Precious Objects. Ew. Daggett was stealing himself “friends” from the morgue. The odd death echoes can be explained because the ghosts are lingering close to their remains.

Maggie goes missing, off on her own little heroic quest to save Corbett, though she’s quickly found by Dean (to Harry’s relief). The electrical equipment stutters and when the lights recover Sam is now missing, leaving only his flashlight.

While searching for Corbett and Sam, Maggie panics and Harry calms her with a kiss. OooOOOOoo. Ed, meanwhile, bursts in on them. “My best friend and my best sister,” he says angrily and the two fight. (I’m most touched by how he just calls her his sister, turning him into slightly less of an asshole.)

Cut to Corbett with a massive head wound slowly waking to the sound of Sam’s voice and the worst song in the world (“It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to”). Sam sits across from him tied to a chair at a dusty old table. There are cups, plates, and party accoutrements laid out. Dead bodies are arranged in party poses. Daggett kills Corbett with a spike to the throat while Sam looks on and shouts at the ghost to stop.

The remaining team tries to figure out what’s making Daggett tick when Dean realizes that he was a cold war nut who was terrified of the world ending.

Dean heads to the basement where there’s likely a bomb shelter. Daggett forces the door shut, cutting Dean and Spruce off from Ed, Harry, and Maggie. Dean tells them to grab salt from his duffel bag, make a circle, and get inside. “Inside your duffel bag?” they ask. Lol.

Dean heads downstairs with Spruce while the B team follows Dean’s instructions. The lights flicker and they gather close together in the salt circle. The ghost is Corbett, shuddering in terror, blood pouring from his wounds. Oh, honey :(

Spruce asks Dean about his mysterious comment from earlier. Why did Sam say they had two months left? Dean tells him off and hones in on the dreadful repeated music. He pushes a shelf out of the way to expose a door.

Dean breaks in just as Daggett gets behind Sam with his death spike. We finally get a good view of the party, complete with party trumpets and little elastic hats (the elastic has really stood the test of time). Sam fills us in on the back story: Daggett stole the bodies from the morgue and at midnight on a leap year, went upstairs and dosed himself to death. Now every leap year he tries to get more people to come to his creepy-ass party.

Upstairs the B team mourns Corbett, watching him replay his death over and over again. Ed tells them that they’ve got to try to help Corbett. He’s trapped, he’s in pain, but he can be helped. Ed crosses the salt line and approaches the terrified ghost.

Downstairs, Dean tries to bust through the basement door when the ghost appears. Sam shoots it away.

Harry tells Ed that Corbett had feelings for him. Maybe he can use that connection to reach Corbett. “You’ve gotta go be gay for that poor dead intern. You gotta send him into the light.” And so, in a moment that shouldn’t be touching (but goddamnit, it totally is) Ed crosses the salt line once again.

Ed tells him that he meant a lot to him while tears fall. He tells Corbett that he loves him and Corbett is shocked out of his death loop. “Ed?” he asks. And then Corbett, finally aware of his own death and of the peril the others face, becomes the hero of the piece. Corbett blips downstairs, and drags Daggett into the light.

Morning dawns with a gentle blush and the team stumbles out of the house. We cut back to the studio where they eulogize Corbett. “Here we were thinking that, you know, we were teaching you and all this time you were teaching us, about heart, about dedication, and about how gay love can pierce through the veil of death and save the day. Thank you, Alan J. Corbett.” It’s...touching and hilarious in one neat package. (Also I am shamelessly waiting for season 13 where gay love is totally gonna pierce through the veil of death and save the day. Right? Right??? Come on, Supernatural, it can be like a present to Edlund on the occasion of his TV show taking off.)

Cut to Dean and Sam sitting in front of Harry and Ed’s computer watching the final cut of their Ghostfacers demo. Dean admits it was “half awesome” while Sam congratulates them on exploiting Corbett’s death. Whatever, they’re ready to make bank with DVD sales and wave the Winchesters a fond farewell. They discover a bag that Sam and Dean left behind and pull it open gleefully. In it is an electro-magnet (built, I like to think, by our little genius Dean Bean). The equipment in the room zaps and all the computers wipe. (Now the Ghostfacers back everything up to the cloud, amirite?) Dean and Sam tear out of the suburban driveway and back into the wild supernatural world beyond.

Quoter-Haters:

And two lone wolves need...other wolves

[Bleep] me

Listen here, chisel chest

It’s our “Grand Canyon”

I’m not gonna whine about my [bleep]ing problems to some [bleep]ing reality show

He’s never heard of a Real Doll?

Don’t be Facer-haters