#man what she did was unforgivable but i still can't bring myself to hate her

[virtie333]

Let's talk Damerey.

I ended up being a VERY general fan during the SW sequels. Like...none of the ships bother me. FinnPoe? Fine. Damerey? Fine. Kylo and whomever, sure. I guess. I just want them to live and be happy.

Anyway, when did your Damerey journey start? I think I read at one point they had thought about making Poe and Rey a thing? But I guess the visions of the differing directors didn't allow for it? Did I make that up in my head?

I understand the appeal of that ship as well as FinnPoe or whatever it's called. I mean, it's Poe, so who wouldn't be obsessed lol

Anyway, thoughts?

Also, do you like to stick to Damerey fics for Poe or do you also like xreader with Poe?

Oh, boy. This might take a while.

I can honestly say I've been Damerey a lot longer than I've been a fan of Oscar Isaac. I became Damerey right after The Force Awakens. But here's the thing, I was Reylo, too. What? Okay, let me explain. I love the 'good girl falls for bad boy' trope, but I've always been realistic about it; the bad boy can't be horrible bad and has to become good eventually. I loved the idea of Rey bringing Ben back from the Dark Side, but... what he did to his father (my first love and still the one I compare to all other crushes) is unforgivable. I knew Ben Solo would NOT have a happy ending. Therefore, Rey needed to have her happily ever after with someone else. Finn or Poe? I loved them both, but I do have a thing for pilots, so I chose Poe.

The Last Jedi only increased my interest in both ships. The connection between Rey and Ben was fascinating. But... that last scene between Rey and Poe? I remember commenting to my brother after our first viewing, "They have to be planning something between them after that! Right?"

I went into the last movie wondering which way (if either) they were going to take it. I told myself I would be happy with either, and even if Rey chose no one; after all, she doesn't need a man to make her happy. But I am a hopeless romantic. After the first argument between Poe and Rey, where I nudged my brother (who I saw all 3 movies with) and said "They're just like Han and Leia!", I had hopes.

But... they failed to continue with that bright start. And with the kiss between Ben and Rey at the end, I was pretty much resolved to settle for Reylo. And that was my focus for the first couple of month after the movie. But then something strange happened. A fellow Reylo fan, who had defended the first two movies despite all the hate going on, started bemoaning how 'Rey would never be happy now,' and she 'would never get to have babies,' etc. etc. And that pissed me off. Big Time. She had options, dammit! She could stay single and raise Force sensitive orphans. She had Finn. And of course, she had Poe. So, I wrote Rising, my first fanfic in almost 20 years.

When the pandemic hit, and I ended up working part-time, I decided I needed to continue with this post-movie world I had created. I still had a soft spot for Ben, and it shows up in my early works, but I wanted to make Rey and Poe find their happily ever after. Then something else strange happened. In one of my stories, Kennera, I wrote a scene from Poe's POV. Suddenly, I wanted to know more about the actor who portrayed him. And I found this...

That was that. I was hooked on this man. I started watching everything I could with him in it. And I continued to write Damerey, falling more and more deeply into that ship. Reylo became less and less interesting to me, and now I could care less about it. Damerey is everything to me. And it's been that way for almost three years now. I just freaking love them with everything in me.

To answer your question about the ship almost becoming canon, yes it almost did. Colin Trevorrow's script The Duel of the Fates almost became the third movie, and it included a lot more Rey/Poe interaction, even a kiss or two. Some say it's why that scene at the end of The Last Jedi was added, to introduce that attraction. But alas, it didn't happen.

If you had asked me two years ago if I had read any Poe x Reader stories, I would have scoffed at you. I am a reader of novels and I write in the same style and always will, so why would I read that? But... I've read several amazing writers that write in that style since then, and I have become addicted. I know I will never write that way, but I will enjoy others.

I think the fact that I don't write that way is the reason why no one on Tumblr (other than a few trusted friends) ever reads and shares my stuff. It's a bit lonely sometimes, but it is what it is.

Damerey forever!

Art by @greysmartwolf

[serpentblccd]

“I miss you, but I can’t stay.” / adult!betty with serpent!jug

@coophunts

▌♔ ▌IT'S BEEN YEARS SINCE HE LAST SAW THAT PRETTY FACE OF HERS..... it's been years since he's touched her, talked to her....... enjoyed her company. THE DAY SHE LEFT--- was the day Jughead's heart SHATTERED into a million pieces. ( this is what happens when you let someone into your heart & your very soul ) He couldn't bear to see her leave... never did say goodbye when the two of them were supposed to meet up... he never took her up for it. ( but oh he did wish to inhale her one last time, but knew the tears wouldn't stop if he did have to see her leave. ) Couldn't dare... wouldn't. He loathed her all these years, his hatred bloomed into something dangerous.

The walls he built became much taller, much more stronger. He won't allow just about anyone In after that heartbreak. THE GHOST OF HER HAUNTS HIS VERY SOUL everywhere he turns, memories burn deep into his skull, he begs for it to stop. To fucking leave him alone just be gone and done with him already. DREAMING of her laughter & smile. He turns in his bed hoping to find her but it's just some random bimbo, nothing to love... nothing to care for. Just a fuck and goodbye.

THE SERPENT KING thinks it'll take away the empty feeling in his heart but it doesn't... the darkness wraps itself around his weak beating organ. TIGHTER & TIGHTER! He clenches his chest, it almost feels like he's having a heart attack, feels like the world is ending.. and if this is how he goes then so be it. He lost Betty.... the only person he allowed into his life, the only person he ever love---- loved. Fuck. And while he is pissed off at her... ( he loves her )

Deep down in his unforgiving heart he still craves her touches, the sight of her. He fucking loves her. He would have given her the world if she asked him. LOVE---- oh sweet fucked up love. That is until Toni approached him with some unsettling but delightful news, she's in town. She's in town and he can't fucking breathe. He doesn't ask her where---- Toni tells him knowing him so well. THE SIGHT OF HER BRINGS HIM JOY---- but his heart is closed off, scared it'll be kicked to the curve.... what if? ( what if she found someone ? ) He'll fucking kill the man who dared step into her life, thinking he could be anything for her..... not when Jughead is still around and alive-- hell, even in DEATH he'll fucking murder the bastard who dares take her away from him. Still, he needs to calm the fuck down... he knows nothing yet of what is happening. His face softens, heart drops within his chest ( aching for her ) he hears her voice, closing his eyes to take it all in... who knows when he'll have this again? And again his heart shatters, just fucking dead. Shaking his head he tells himself to let her go, but FUCK. He turns to leave. But his legs don't carry him off, they carry him towards her instead. ❝ You can stay. I NEED YOU!!! I fucking love you didn't that mean anything to you, Betty? I--- do you know how much losing you destroyed me? It fucking killed me! I lost you---- I lost myself. I'm not the same Jughead you knew years ago, I grown more than I ever did before and without you! I'm fucking hurting! You did this to me. You made me fall in love with you, I gave you my heart, I gave you my life. I did what I can to show you I can be that person to take care of you! Was I not enough? What did I do wrong? I---- why come if you are going to leave? Huh? Why? To torture me? Don't you know.... the GHOST of you haunts me every fucking day in this hell hole we call home.... your phantom is in every corner.... every street--- my home! OUR home. You left my heart begging for you... for your touches, for the sight of you even. I've missed you this whole fucking time.... loved you...and hated you all at once. But fuck I want to tell you to fuck off, Betts. But I can't find myself to say that shit to you. I love you... I fucking love you, don't you get that? Don't you see?! ❞

The distance between them closes. He towers over her, taking in her beauty, her golden stands & soft features. He falls in love all over again, he'll always love her even if she doesn't love him.... it's the one time he'll admit defeat when it comes to Betty. Jughead cups her face lovingly in the palms of his hand as if she's the whole world to him---- which she is. ❝ You are my home, Betty Cooper. And I need you.... If I never showed you before how much I need you... let me show you now. Let me show you how important you are to me, let me take care of you. I fucking love you, baby. Please... do-- don't leave me again. ❞

[brooklynislandgirl]

When he asks if she's the descendant of the famous Conan Doyle detective, Beth can only laugh a little and shake her head. Telling him that it's all a part of the job ~many ER or trauma patients either cannot or will not tell the truth to their care providers, and in order to establish proper treatment, she has to be able to make snap assessments. That and a lifetime in political spheres will do that to anyone. When he mentions incriminating, he ears a splash of colour against her cheek bones. She waves off the doughnut theft. There are others at home, including the chai spiced buttermilk ones that Jay is experimenting with and that will be breakfast with coffee. And maybe Beth should feel guilty to actually feel a glimmer of fun at such a sombre occasion. She certainly hadn't come to meet anyone. She also knows that sometimes the Universe brings someone into your life so that you can help them in some way. She has to wholly believe that this is one such moment and that Ben is one such person. "I would," she says softly, still in that slightly more than a whisper voice of hers. "I don' feel like you're a man to make terrible choices based on marketing and location ubiquity. But also it hurts my heart that you don't have quality coffee in your life. If you ever need me to protest or chain myself to something, let me know. I'll be your go-to-gal." She can feel the back-pedal from her reassurances and she makes no real move to stop him. Everyone has their own experiences and while they might be similar, it is a very personal hell. She nods with genuine empathy, though a slim dark brow flickers upward when he mentions his father. Now that wasn't something she would have guessed. She wondered if he was in a similar line of work, and doesn't tease him about being a protestant. Once her own Catholicism is known that usually turns any kind of relationship sour. Even with the immense strides forward that the Church was making under the direction of the new Holy Father, and all of the advancements in arts and sciences in ages past. Beth also doesn't tell him that one of her manic sort of dreams is being locked in a room with the man who had fired the rocket-launcher that killed her brother and a set of knives both rusty and sharp. That was neither here nor there, nor did she carry the thought with her once they were both outside. She can't help but smile widely at his preamble. In doing so she reveals the points of small, sharp little teeth. Honestly, if he were an axe murderer, he'd be doing her a favour. The doctrine of the Church frowns upon certain acts. The only unforgivable sin being despair. Mirth slips away and she aids it by raising her hands and covering her mouth. "Oh, man. And there goes my plan for the night. I don't know if I should be disappointed or not. May I aks…uh…ask what it is that you do? I've already discounted swashbuckling pirate and celebrity dog-yoga instructor." She hates the little slip and hopes that he doesn't notice it. Maybe he doesn't soak everything up like a sponge. The comment about gas waste is terribly sweet both from an environmental standpoint and because if she's being honest, Sally only gets about 14 miles per gallon. Her engine is big and strong and growls like a jungle cat but she's a thirsty girl. Beth's gaze flickers across the parking lot where the vintage 65 Mustang sits. She's sleek black paint polished to a near mirror shine. Andy had spent all of his allowance the year he'd turned sixteen rebuilding her from original parts and restoring her to her former glory. In some ways, the car is as much his child as anything could be. Beth almost hates to leave her here, but she trusts in providence that nothing will happen to it. "I didn't either, at first," she confides. She didn't so much as get out of bed for the first month after the funeral, and it took over three months for her to get near her front door. "I'm not going to judge."

Her head cants to one side. "Your eyes. They're really lovely you know." Ben is classically handsome. She could imagine sketching him one of these days if he allowed her to, maybe with a happier expression though. She falls into step beside him, noting the apologetic nature of his smile. "Oh, you know how to entice a girl," she teases, in regards to the seat warmers. That is something she wouldn't mind having herself, especially because the city is far too cold for her tastes at least seventy-five percent of the year. "Not really a car girl. Mostly try to take public transit for the sake of the earth. Now talk about plants or surfboards and then we could probably have a spirited dialogue." Then, apropos of nothing, she asks, "Are you like a tv guy or a reader?"

Ben blinked back at her, an incredulous smile tipping the corner of his mouth. "And you're what, exactly? A modern Sherlock Holmes? Remind me to never do anything incriminating in your midst..." Chuckling, he indicated the doughnut on his plate. "Aside from stealing the dessert meant for you, of course. That was wholly by accident."

Alas, it soon became evident that he was only digging a deeper hole. While Ellie vehemently denounced Starbucks, Ben lifted a hand in surrender, still mindful of his plate with the other. "Would you believe me if I said I don't go there? It's a universally known chain, which is the only reason I brought it up..." Indicating the "sludge coffee" on the table, he said, "That's honestly more of what I'm used to. I'm from an historical district, so we're one of the few places still beyond the siege of Starbucks' thrall."

When Ellie approached, he didn't withdraw. Before his family unraveled down from four to two, the Tallmadges had been notoriously affectionate -- perhaps far more discreetly than the average kin, but unafraid of tactile comfort all the same. This was why, Ben supposed, there was an inkling of yearned for familiarity within the brief press of her hand against his arm.

Courage and patience...

Ben wasn't so sure he agreed. There was nothing brave about burrowing away into his work, hiding from those who mattered while he nursed his wounds. "I, um..." Bobbing his head in faux agreement, he forced a smile. "I guess it's always harder when the deaths are senseless. My father is a preacher, but I'm finding it difficult to find forgiveness."

Perhaps that was why he'd distanced himself from Nathaniel, as well. He wasn't ready to hear that the negligent driver was forgiven in the eyes of the Lord, and thus, Ben should forgive him too.

While he wrapped his doughnut inside a napkin (it seemed rude to discard now that he knew Ellie's sister made it), he sensed her fetching her coat and purse out of his peripheral. Although it was perfectly harmless, he couldn't recall the last time he'd ditched an event with a total stranger. There was a gentleness about her that was welcome; unlike his friend Anna, she wasn't invasive, and unlike Caleb, she wasn't intent on burying away her true thoughts behind blinding optimism. On this night, Ben needed bold-faced honesty.

Following Ellie out into the cold, biting city air, he briefly winced as the wind buffeted his face akin to tiny, hacking knives. Tucking his scarf in more securely, he considered her query with a wan smile. "Well, if you don't mind the possibility that I'm an axe murderer, I don't see the sense in you wasting any gas," he said. "Besides: it'll give me a chance to move the junk from the passenger's seat. I haven't done much cleaning these past few months."

His eyes glimmered within the streetlamps, reminiscent of the impish youth he'd been only years prior. Despite the chatter from late night civilians, the discordant symphony of traffic and the occasional shout, it was Ellie's presence that seemed the loudest -- bright and commanding despite her stature.

A touch self-conscious, Ben smiled and tipped his head, indicating that she follow. "Come on," he entreated. "I've got seat warmers, if that's any further incentive...though it is also a '92 Buick, if that suddenly changes your mind."

[kastillia]

what’s so bad about chaos?

[bun-ika]

Because i hate myself and order 66 hates me, have another one. Again based on OC medic of @the-underqualified-author and my own civilian medic, but no names so it could be interpreted as your own thoughts.

Bring Me to Life - Evanescence

Warnings: violence, blood, physical violence, mind control, death and dying mentions. Order 66 chaos.

---

The blaster remained trained on her body, as still and unmoving as it had been the last time she whispered his name. Eyes cold and unfaultering they stayed trained on her own, nearly unreasonable from the man she loved. Something had happened to him, to all of them. The clones that lived an died as brothes, fighting a war that served no one, when suddenly the cards were reversed and all rules broken. The sound of screaming and bolts being shot in the surrounding corridors echoed through her ears, leaving her head ringing as she ran away from her lover. What was happening? The men she knew would never, ever, be doing things so incredibly horrendous. Weapons turned on the jedi and civilians they had fought alongside and with for so long, gunned down in a blaze of blasterfire and flashes of color.

Finally, there was nowhere left to run, her back flush with the cold wall behind her, a one way path to an ending that seemed to be pre-written. Again, she spoke his name, a plea falling from her lips as she begged for him to look at her, really look at her instead of just through. The cold, unforgiving lack of emotion or life in his eyes were a betrayal to his state, the catalyst to his personality change, and still she swore her love to him as she had so many times before. The sentiment usually returned with soft kisses and gentle hands smoothing down her skin, leaving whispers of touch over her cheeks and body where fingertips grazed. Honey eyes looked upon her own like pools of adoration, devotion blind to the world and focused only on her. How lucky she had felt during those moments, so undeserving of a love so deep and pure, and yet so incredibly thankful to call it her own.

How can you see into my eyes, like open doors

Leading you down into my core

Where I've become so numb

Without a soul

My spirit's sleeping somewhere cold

Until you find it there and lead it back home

Her words fell on deaf ears, but he did not move. His stance remained stiff, aggression forming the outline of his body as he held the blaster fixed on his head. Everything about the position was wrong, and for a second, she thought maybe, just maybe, he saw it too.

Wake me up inside (save me)

Call my name and save me from the dark (wake me up)

Bid my blood to run (I can't wake up)

Before I come undone (save me)

Save me from the nothing I've become

A blast from in front of her draws a shrill shriek from her lips as she dropped to the ground as the gun fire. In its wake the blaster had left a dark scorch in the wall where her head should have been. This was real, somehow, this sick nightmare was reality.

Above her, a flicker flashes over honey eyes, brief panic, fear trapped in a body slave to control. It was fast, but trained eyes saw the man she called her love. Was it her voice that cried like that as the blaster dropped from his hands? His name on her lips, hot tears spilt over flushed cheeks, reaching towards the man above her, pleading for his return to reality.

Now that I know what I'm without

You can't just leave me

Breathe into me and make me real

Bring (bring) me (me) to life

But thus was reality, and as the arms that so carefully held her through sleepless nights reached for her in return, hope died in her chest. Large calloused hands wrapped around her throat, her back hitting the cold unforgiving floor as she fell victim to the curse that ensnared them both.

A sickening smack of her skull on the ground, light strawberry locks darkening rapidly as deep red pooled under the fracture, staining her hair and the sterile white of the surface that held her.

The troopers knees were on either side of her, straddling her waist as the hold on her throat remained locked in his vice grip. Through the pain shooting through her head, she choked out his name.

Wake me up inside (save me)

Call my name and save me from the dark (wake me up)

Bid my blood to run (I can't wake up)

Before I come undone (save me)

Save me from the nothing I've become

Small hands hovered over the ones that surrounded her throat, prying uselessly at fingers that refused to move. His gaze remained focused on her own as air refused to enter her burning lungs through the struggle. Around the corners of her vision, shapes blurred and darkened as the world began to collapse and close in around them.

Bring me to life

I've been living a lie

There's nothing inside

Bring me to life

How many times had it been just the two of them behind closed doors, away from prying eyes and sharp comments? The universe became small in the moments he held her to his chest, small form pressed against the cool plastoid armor as kisses brushed adoring over her features. Murmers of love and promises of life after war fuelling the fire that burned between the pair. In a world of pain and suffering, how treasured was the found beacon of light among the dark grips of war.

Frozen (frozen) inside without your touch

Without your love, darling

Only (only) you are the life among the dead

Her memory slipped, reminders of better times touching her memory as if to remind her that the man above her was no longer who she had fallen in love with. Between splitting headaches and concern for his brothers lost in battle, something had been missed. Something in all the men she had helped care for over the course of her time as a medic, something had been detrimentally overseen. Guilt tore at the fragments of her subconscious. She had seen whatever had ahold of her men in action, not just in the hands around her throat, but in the clash of lightsabers and commands turned against those they had sworn to protect. An order had crackled through comm systems, missing her own device, spurring on chaotic, unyielding violence and terror. Men she had known for years gone in the grips of a larger enemy.

It wasn't their fault. It wasn't his.

All of this time, I can't believe I couldn't see

Kept in the dark, but you were there in front of me

I've been sleeping a thousand years it seems

Got to open my eyes to everything

Without a thought, without a voice, without a soul

Don't let me die here

(There must be something more) bring me to life

She knew she was dying. Somewhere between the pain in the back of her head becoming numb, and her vision falling to darkness, her hands stilled over the ones she had held just that morning over hot caf.

This wasn't his fault.

Maybe it was the grips of death that began to take her as the world fell apart, or maybe it was a sick part of the game that was played around them, but before darkness overtook her, she thought there was recognition in those eyes.

Wake me up inside (save me)

Call my name and save me from the dark (wake me up)

Bid my blood to run (I can't wake up)

Before I come undone (save me)

Save me from the nothing I've become

Words on blue lips stuttered as the light left her own eyes, remaining on the man she would always love through the last moments of her life. "I love you." He hoped the real part of him heard the strangled whisper. Hoped his name on her lips brought some kind of closure, peace... "I love you, it's not your fault..." Had the words left her? It was too late now.

Bring me to life

I've been living a lie

There's nothing inside

Bring me to life

Above her, large hands finally ceased their grip, leaving dark bruising over skin pale from blood loss and death. There was that flicker again, a voice, his own? Shaken and rough as her name catches in his throat. What happened? Who did this? When he found them...

The blood that pooled behind his partners head had gotten on carbon stained armor, glistening down his legs, over his palms. Why was he on top of her? The bruises that covered her neck looked accusingly like prints his own made in bedsheets after a night of soft giggles and quiet breathy moans.

No.

Her green eyes stared up at him, and his hands began to shake. No.

The soldier blinked, a familiar sharp ache driving through his head as her name fell from his lips, a broken cry from a broken man. This had to be one of his nightmares.

No.

Pain, again, assaulting behind his eyes as palms clutched his temples, eyes squeezing shut in desperation.

It isn't your fault.

He was gone again. Somewhere in the blurred part of his mind, his soul cried. Regardless of how incredibly curated the chip had been, nothing could drown out the hollow, shattered feeling left in his chest as the trooper returned to his feet and began to walk away from the woman on the floor. He didn't even remember the last few minutes of his life, but the memory of pain remained long after his psyche had been clawed back to submission.

Somewhere, a soft voice called to him, a name that sounded like his own whispering, worrying. Drawing a second blaster from his side (where had the other gone?), a fleeting hope flashed through the remains of his mind. Maybe one day, he would find the voice again.

He hoped so.

For now, the blaster found its home in his hands, raised against figures blind in his eyes. One. Two. Three shots. Again. One, two, three. A body. Again.

It's not your fault.

I love you.

[nerdynikki94]

Failure to write in character

WARNING: SUPER LONG RANT!

Okay, so I've never done a text post on here, but I am truly livid and need to vent what I believe to be a trivialized social injustice. I'm talking about the travesty of T.V. writers choosing to be completely inconsistent with the characters they have created. I have seen it happen in more shows than I can handle, but this is too far. I've watched my favorite shows and seen characters say or do things that they never in a million years would; it especially bothers me when a character I love is a victim of it. It's not fair to create this character that I love or identify with and then make them do something that degrades the morality, compassion and/or intellect etc. that they have shown to possess thus far. However, this one takes the fucking cake. I recently decided to watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer for the first time. Here I am, slowly (at first) binging this show until I get hooked and it takes over my free time. I have loved countless characters (Willow, Xander and a couple others), I have also loved countless villains (Sweet, Spike and especially Mayor Wilkins - say what you will about the teenager-eating, backwards-thinking ascending politician/demon; I personally found him to be delightful and hilarious). When I entered season 5 although I had heard about Spike & Buffy becoming a 'thing', I said to myself 'No way in hell; that makes no sense, it must come out of nowhere' and then it happened. I understood that they took this flawed character and really put into practice the idea of 'a fine line between love and hate'. He wanted her dead because he couldn't escape her and he couldn't escape her because he was in love with her; in a perverse way it actually makes sense. Then we got to see his love for her develop and change him. Chip or no chip be damned! The actions he took to keep her sister safe, the devotion and compassion he showed her, when he couldn't even comprehend it himself, it was moving, truly. Before I knew it, I was a hopeless Spuffy shipper (which I never wanted to be, I resisted for so long, until his tender glances, honest confessions and guilt any time he accidentally hurt her; well, it wore me down.) He truly did love her, soul or not! She would berate and tear him down and the only real issue he had was when she tried to trivialize and belittle his feelings for her, as if the rejection wasn't hard enough for him (don't get me wrong, she owed him nothing, if she didn't want him. My point is that it was already hard for him), she would pour salt on his wounds. She died, he dropped to his knees and bawled; she was gone and he still spent any time he could taking care of her sister, and why should that matter? It's not like she could punish him if he broke his promise, it's not like he was scoring points with her ghost and yet he still did it all. Because he loved her and because nothing in the world was more important to him, than keeping his promise to her. He tried so hard to be what she wanted, did he make mistakes? Abso-fucking-lutely, but he wanted to do right by her. Well, guess who just finished season 6 and had to watch that disgusting scene where those asshole writers make Spike attempt to rape Buffy!!!! He would NEVER have done that, not 3 episodes before he was saying he would never hurt her, and it was like a universally acknowledged truth. She meant too much for him to spy on her, but here he is attacking her and trying to rape her as she calls out for him to stop. Look, I'm a feminist through and through and abusive relationships are terrible and I don't condone any of that crap. I'll be the first to say that there are a million reasons why Spike and Buffy couldn't work, but as twisted as they would get with each other, it was mutual and it was beyond complicated. But looking beyond their issues, rape is used in media as a tool for disgust; well, it fucking worked. I'm soured on a character for something he would never do. Joss Whedon even admitted that it was about making this season darker, it was inspired by a story in the writers room about a girl who tried to force her ex-boyfriend into having sex, which he pushed away and said, 'No, you need to go.' So they decide to take a character they have spent several seasons humanizing and making us love only to make him attempt to do the most evil thing you can do to the one he loved most in the world. It's despicable and inconsistent with who he had become. If they really wanted Spike to be conveyed as a monster, they could've done that without writing him to do the most unforgivable thing imaginable. And I am outraged! You know why, because I know that he comes back in the show. Even though I loved Spike, I don't want him to come back, because what kind of apology could redeem him, what kind of mental sickness could the characters possess to bring him back into their group? I know some of the spoilers and I can't help but wonder, how can Buffy bring herself to get closer to a man she trusted and cared for, that tried to assault her? And how can Joss Whedon and all the others writers send how such a perverse and disturbing message to their viewers? I AM SO PISSED! SPIKE WOULD NEVER HAVE DONE THAT! BUT SINCE THEY WROTE IT, HE SHOULDN'T COME BACK TO BE MR. CHARMING AGAIN. BAD WRITERS! SIT IN THE CORNER AND THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU'VE DONE! And most importantly, understand as a writer or even as a viewer: How fucking frustrating it is to see growth with characters over a span of 5+ years and to know all their eccentricities, their flaws, their fears, their loves and then have a writer's irrelevant and random whim condemn and damn them, proclaiming them to be the sickest kind of monsters that you know undoubtedly they could/would NEVER be!

I had to let that out, because it was eating at my insides.