#i actually genuinely just wanted to draw him like normal why does he slay help me-

[linterteatime]

The way you draw Gabriel is so

Slay

Thank you, it was unintentional, but here is Gabriel giving you a V1 while slaying

[impalementation]

spike, angel, buffy & romanticism: part 4

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

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

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

* 

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

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

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

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

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

From the Gilliland Gothic double essay:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[myselfinserts]

“We’re players in a game that I don’t intend to lose.”

Étienne stared at the man before him with a curious level of intrigue. He’d heard horror stories of the man they called Inkwell. He didn’t know which were true. And frankly he didn’t care. 

This was someone Ceri treasured, so he would try to play nice.

Though Inkwell was making that very hard.

“Yet another draw,” Grigor sighed. “I honestly expected a challenge.”

Étienne could feel his eye twitch. “Maybe we should stop playing chess-”

“You’re holding back on me. Worried I’ll get mad or are you trying to win me over for Ceri’s sake? I want you to actually try beating me.”

“I’ll destroy you if you make another comment like that.”

“How can I get you to do your worst on me?”

“Are you even listening?”

“I got it!”

“You’re not even listening.”

“Let’s have a wager.”

Étienne stared at him, his urge to leave growing every second. 

“One last game,” Grigor proposed. “If you win, I’ll pay the normal price to have you update my gloves.” He leaned forward, his inky stare glimmering with mischief. “But if I win, I pay you double.”

“You what?” Étienne asked. “That makes no sense.”

Grigor smirked, his voice low and inviting. “It does though. You’re Ceri’s special someone. And I’m going to test you to make sure you won’t destroy him.”

This man is insane, he thought. He seriously thinks a game of chess like this is a test? “What-”

“We’re players in a game that I don’t intend to lose, Étienne Allard. I want to know if you’re worth all the hype Ceri has toward you.” Their playful demeanor vanished, replaced with cold despair and warm compassion. “He’s been through enough. I just want to make sure you’re at least half the man he claims you are. If you have the integrity to stand up for what’s right by him.”

Étienne stared at the old hero before him, trying to get a read on him. Needless to say, it was impossible at this point. He’d gone back to the cheshire grin. 

“Very well,” he relented. “I’ll see your wager.”

Grigor cackled. “Perfect. Now, no holding back. Give me your worst.”

Étienne smirked. “Very well.”

They played once again. The atmosphere changed. It wasn’t awkward or annoying. It was rather exhilarating. It was rather nice to be able to enjoy this challenge. He watched as Inkwell became flustered, trying to keep pace with him. There was something different about this game. But he didn’t care to look into it.

He only cared about his win.

“Checkmate,” Étienne declared. “Now, I think that’s enough nonsense-”

“You’re an honest man.”

Étienne stopped, raising an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

“I think it’s time to change it up. How about mancala?” Grigor began to clean up the chess board. “You know, I’ve proposed the exact same wager to support designers in the past. And caterers, artists, musicians, even other Heroes and civilians. They all threw the games intentionally to get more money, or because they thought I’d be angry if I ever lost.” His gaze had softened, lingering on the pairs of queens and kings before them. “I knew if that was the kind of person Ceri fell for, I’d have to correct him. People like that oft turn to people like Abney should they not harbor pure intent.” He looked at Étienne, handing him the little golden king. “You on the other hand, are an honest man. No matter how your relationship with Ceri continues or ends, I know I can trust his heart to you. You’re a good man, Mr. Allard.”

Étienne stared at him, trying to figure out what was going on. This wasn’t the same man he was playing chess with just a moment ago. He was tired. More haggered. Almost...lonely.

With a gentle sigh, he accepted the king. “I’m not a good man. You’re just insane.”

“Perhaps,” Grigor conceeded. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t still trust you. If you ever need someone to...take care of matters. I’ll personally make any problems go away.”

“...I’ll keep that in mind.”

Inkwell is insane, he decided. But perhaps...I can come to trust him as well.

“By the way,” Inkwell hummed. “There’s something I need to tell you...”

Étienne looked at him, perplexed. “What is it now?”

“You’re an honest, good man. You take no nonsense. I like that in an artist.” He set the chess set on the bookshelf, pulling out the mancala board. “I’m certain this isn’t something you need to know, but I’m saying it anyway, because unwanted advice is something that I’m damned good at giving.”

As he set up the game, Étienne poured himself another cup of tea. “Very well. What is it?”

“If you ever want to win a battle before it begins, never let your enemy get an inch in edgewise. You’re better than them. Find the chink in the armor and slay.”

Étienne stood on the porch, watching as the red haired Heroine approached. Rage burned in his veins as he saw her. Not just his own, but Reginald’s as well. But there was another feeling there. Something softer. Something he came to understand was genuine care for Mary. Something that, had Étienne never come face to face with him, would have prompted Regi to possibly have stayed with her for the rest of his days. 

There was a part of Reginald that still wonders if he’d have been happy with Mary.

But Étienne knew, deep down, Reginald and Mary wouldn’t have lasted.

Especially as long as Lucien had stuck around.

There were happy memories. Gentle date nights, kind gestures, words of love and care. They were all genuine. She really did love him, and he really used to love her. Étienne acknowledged this.

But there was so much bad that Reginald had brushed off. The controlling actions, the constant decisions made before consulting him, the harsh criticisms of Reginald that slowly wore him down over time until he lacked any kind of self confidence, the yelling. Oh god, did Mary yell. It was a wonder Regi didn’t leave her sooner.

He was weak, back then. He didn’t know he could have had better.

And he was weak now. He’s struggling to find himself, lost in the memories that were not his.

She could easily take him back now.

And like hell Étienne was going to let him fall back into her control.

Mary walked into the yard, leaving the gate open (oh how they both hated that habit of hers), smiling and holding up a grocery bag. And for just a vague moment, a fleeting second, he felt a warmth in his chest. Not as strong as the one for Luci, but not small enough to ignore completely.

He ignored it anyway.

“Hello,” Mary greeted. “I’m here to see-”

“Leave.”

Mary blinked, smile faltering. “Ah, you must be Étienne-”

“You’re not welcome here,” Étienne interjected. “Reginald is not well enough to deal with your ‘shenanigans’ as he’d try to politely put it, so I’m going to politely ask you to leave before I make you.”

Her face became as red as her hair. “Who do you think-”

“You’re not welcome here, Mary McMiller, and you haven’t been welcome here since the day you broke into Luci’s personal records. Reginald has standards for his close circle, and you proved a long time ago that you don’t meet them.”

“How dare-”

“He’s been happier since you moved out and quite frankly, from what I’ve seen, I’m surprised he didn’t dump your ass the day he figured out that he was Bisexual. And as the one he came out to first as well as his best friend, I can safely say that poor soul probably would never have come to that conclusion with the level of care you took in isolating him.”

Mary started to go pale. “What are you-”

“He doesn’t have any lady friends outside of Phoenix and L and I have no doubt you’re part of the reason why. Then again, I’m shocked he and I even managed a friendship with you constantly deciding where he would be staying when he traveled, texted him three times a day at every meal, planned all his outfits, decided on dates before even asking him if he was free and wasn’t bogged down with scientific research that could save millions. You realize he’s actually incredibly coulrophobic right? And that he often hides it because of work but ends up sleeping on his cot in the lab just so people don’t see him crying to sleep from fear? Oh wait, of course not. Otherwise you wouldn’t have made him watch IT and Killer Clowns from Outer Space back to back. He’s been needing therapy for that for years and it wasn’t until Luci had to drag his ass to the doctor that he got help for it and by god did your pathetic lack of empathy do a number on him.”

Étienne knew he’d probably be going to far. Something inside him, probably the too kind half of Regi’s memories causing his head to ache, was asking him to stop.

But he didn’t listen to it. The rage both he and Reginald had was just a little too strong.

“I don’t,” Mary stammered. “I didn’t-”

“You didn’t know,” Étienne moaned. “The tired ol’ excuse you’d give him every time you made him angry or upset him or did something that put him in a position where he’d have to reveal a major weakness that he didn’t trust you enough to tell you and honestly? If you’d bothered learning proper communication, maybe he’d have trusted you enough. Remember when he told you that he can barely watch horror movies as is? And you planned a horror movie marathon anyway? Or what about the time he told you that he was allergic to papayas and you got him a Tropic Paradise smoothie at the local juice bar?”

Mary nearly dropped the bag as she stumbled back, trying to get away as he got up closer with a glare. “Please stop-”

He adjusted his glasses, giving her the strongest, most demented grin he could muster. “Oh no, no. Am I getting too loud?” 

The wind slowly picked up. Mary was shaking. Étienne had completely torn her down. And she would not be recovering from this for a while. 

He wondered if he’d gone too far. 

But then the memories began to pound away in his mind. The mixtures and good and bad, all set to one of Regi’s many confusing playlists. The nights of crying alone. The pain of wondering if he was broken. The seemingly happy nature of everything around him. So much people pleasing. So much praise for being so amazing. The power couple expectations. The fear. The love. The hatred. The glory.

The loneliness.

The loneliness that swam into every corner of his being.

Oh god, it wanted to swallow him whole again.

But he couldn’t let it. 

Not now.

“Your past actions have proven you are not to be trusted with his welfare,” Étienne stated bluntly. “And if you think I’m going to let you any closer to that door, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Mary’s lip quivered and she handed him the bag. “You win...I’ll leave now...” 

“Good.”

“Please take good care of him...” She crossed her arms, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m sorry...”

Without another word, she left, closing the gate behind her. 

Étienne looked inside the bag, making sure there wasn’t anything potentially harmful. Inside was a case of IRN Bru, some salt and vinegar crisps, a box of chocolates, a tin of nice loose leaf chamomile, a stuffed clown bear with a “get well soon” sign, and a bottle of papaya juice. 

“I expect nothing and yet still I’m left disappointed.” He took out the bear and juice and chucked it in the nearby bin as he went back inside. Meatloaf was staring down at him from her perch, but made no noise. Luci was sitting on the couch with freshly made tea. 

“How did it go?” they asked nervously.

Étienne simply smiled. 

“She won’t be coming back anytime soon.”