#then she says it’s a joke. turns out spike is a vampire who escaped your government facility

[horsegirlhob]

Spike absolutely haunts Riley I fucking know it

[jennycalendar]

ok you know what i think it’s actually really vital that i talk a little bit about tea time. buckle up kiddos.

first off, a brief and relatively spoiler-free summary: the premise of the issue is very simple. the kiddos (aged up, if willow’s mention of being engaged is any indication) are hanging out in the library to help giles with research, swapping stories about what it would be like were giles a vampire. each of them, save giles, gets a chance to tell a detailed story -- xander tells two! -- and each story plays out in a way that says a lot about the scooby that’s telling it AND the way they view giles.

obviously this is a VERY character-driven issue, and it’s a really really interesting look at giles and how he is perceived as well! shit like that is my bread and butter, so this has honestly become one of my favorite things that boom has put out -- possibly my ACTUAL top favorite issue if we’re being real here. 

below the cut is a spoilery dissection of every story told -- a literal summary of Every Single Thing that happens in this issue, as well as what it has to say about the scoobies and their perception of giles, so definitely keep that in mind.

as can be seen in the preview, xander’s first story is about giles rising from the grave as an ineffectual british caricature, who is easily defeated by smoldering, sexy xander harris (and xander in turn walks off with buffy and willow draped all over him, cooing about how amazing he is). it’s more of an intro to the premise than anything, but it still sets the tone pretty clearly wrt how xander handles this situation: there’s some laughter and levity, and he’s center stage. obviously a lot can be said about xander’s self-esteem issues and how he overcompensates by casting himself as the main protagonist both in canon and here. however, i wanna save my more in-depth xander analysis for his second, longer, story, so i’ll stop myself there.

willow immediately responds with skepticism: she’s of the mind that giles would be an incredibly serious big-bad level threat. the tale she spins involves giles as a dangerous vampire cleric with access to a cryptic altar, killing xander almost immediately and slaughtering buffy as a sacrifice to create eternal night. her view of giles is more clinical than anything -- and, i would argue, the most perceptive and realistic from a threat standpoint. the guy knows a fuckton of magic and he is incredibly well-read and powerful. he’d have some kind of terrifying master plan. where xander goes for comedy, willow goes straight for logistics, already looking at the battle like it’s a battle rather than laughs aplenty. 

xander and buffy have a bone to pick with willow’s story (xander is indignant that he’s immediately and brutally killed, buffy is of the mind that she would easily defeat giles in hand-to-hand combat even if he IS a vampire), so (after one more teasing story where buffy lives and xander dies) willow gracefully alters her narrative to reflect her friends’ objections: after a dramatic tussle, xander helps willow and buffy unceremoniously stakes giles in the heart. still pretty straightforward and plausible. willow sees vamp giles primarily as a threat -- one not easily neutralized. one who could easily wipe them out.

buffy, about to tell her story, is interrupted by xander, who “had an even better idea!” the web he weaves is this time purported as realistic and entertaining: while partying at the bronze, buffy and co. are interrupted by a bunch of balding, greying vampires in curlers and bathrobes, led, of course, by giles -- who is wearing a hair bonnet and disapprovingly informing the bouncers how late it is at eight PM. a knockdown brawl breaks out at the bronze -- old people feeding on and decimating the young -- and culminates in giles and the geezers taking over the band to sing “some terrible song” that’s “probably something really old and bad!” the rest of the story descends into b-movie chaos, with buffy throwing a broken guitar neck up at the stage lights to send the whole thing crashing down onto vampire giles and his vampire old person band. it’s categorically absurd.

the thing that really sticks with me about this story is how dumb it is. xander’s take on giles is not even slightly serious and wholly underestimates him. fandom at large talks a lot about how giles dropped the ball with xander, but i think tea time explores an easily overlooked factor: xander constantly, consistently underestimates giles. in canon, xander’s view of giles is not often challenged: to him, giles is a bumbling, british librarian who regularly gets his ass handed to him by vamps and demons and the like. certainly part of his story’s intent is about laughingly entertaining his gal pals, but there’s a very real and consistent thread involving giles being hilariously nonthreatening. 

giles, taking umbrage at this particular tale, calls out both xander and willow: xander’s story, in giles’s opinion, emasculates vamp giles and turns him into a ridiculous caricature -- and willow’s story, though much more flattering, lacks the kind of imagination that vamp giles would clearly have. he then offers a suggestion of his own. it’s worth mentioning here that both xander’s and willow’s stories get gorgeous multiple-page spreads depicting the vampy action, but giles’s is a simple and chilling little thing: this is his vampire story. this meeting, called to ostensibly “research” a vampire altar, is really an excuse to get the scoobies to do his dirty work and find the thing for him. they’re tired and silly because the tea and donuts he’s given them are drugged, and their library location is to keep them out of daylight. he laughs it off when he sees they’re bothered, and the meeting is then adjourned when willow finally finds what they’re all looking for. 

buffy’s left her phone in the library, so she doubles back, and accidentally wakes up a dozing giles. just as she’s about to leave, he inquires, casually, “...you never did tell your version of the story.”

and good god here is where it gets interesting.

see, buffy’s take is simple: she’s fighting giles in a cemetery, she’s given the chance to kill him, and she is entirely unable to do it. they share a tearful embrace as she sobs about the unfairness of it all -- “you’re giles! and you’ll always be! ...how will i do this without you? without your guidance?” and as the sun is rising, giles turns her into a vampire, with no resistance whatsoever from buffy. the next handful of pages depict bloody, indulgent violence on the parts of giles and buffy, the two of them cuddled up together as they watch the world burn. 

buffy’s tale is the most emotive, the most loving, which makes me so damn soft! i love this girl so much! she is unable to even joke about giles as a foe to be taken down -- he is her watcher. he is her friend. she loves him endlessly and that does not change when he’s a vampire. vamp giles as she portrays him is gentle and understanding, holding her as she cries, because he knows that they’re connected. it’s easily my favorite part of this whole issue.

notably, there is a definite buffy/giles bend that the comic itself tries to contradict. the art is sensual in nature -- vamp buffy all dolled up in a way somewhat evocative of drusilla, giles tenderly caressing her face as he waits for her to wake up. “watcher and slayer connected forever” being the quote chosen to describe the situation. i think it’s kind of what naturally happens in a vamp giles sitch, especially if he turns buffy -- the childe/sire bond is incredibly sexual in nature, especially in canon, and a lot of frustrating human sentiment gets translated into something sexual as well. sex is a big BIG part of the relationships between vampires we see in canon; it would make a lot of sense for that to hold true for buffy and giles.

the comic is reticent about Going There, which i can understand -- though buffy is decisively aged up in this issue (willow mentions being engaged to a woman, later revealed to be tara), the buffy/giles bond is always seen through a father/daughter lens in canon. i do think it’s also important to always recognize how desperately giles wishes to escape the label of father in reference to buffy, pretty much entirely because there is no way to parent a child soldier who you’re also training, but that’s a whole other kettle of fish. point is, buffy very pointedly refers to vamp giles as her father not once, but twice -- once as a human, once as a vampire herself. it’s a very clear attempt, imo, to un-sexualize the vampy experience. the reason it doesn’t totally work, at least for me, is the fact that -- like i said -- the childe/sire bond is VERY sexual (spike and dru, angel and darla, angel and dru) and it seems just totally implausible that vamp buffy/vamp giles (two people who, as human were both VERY repressed) would chastely remain within the socially acceptable version of their relationship.

i can definitely understand why they did their best to blur that line, though. the idea of buffy and giles being romantically involved as vampires is 1) Kind Of A Lot and 2) not exactly the target demographic that i think this comic is going for. but the subtext is there, to the point where the issue itself has to actively obfuscate it, which i think is .... so interesting? especially as a counterpoint to the way i often see buffy/giles in fandom, wherein the father/daughter subtext in canon is at times actively obfuscated in fic in an attempt to push a preferred reading. 

the ending i particularly enjoyed: after buffy leaves, it is lightly and ambiguously implied that giles might really be a vampire. works GREAT as a standalone, imo, and the end is like the cherry on top. it’s a really REALLY interesting issue and i highly recommend it for any giles fan. 

[abcdefanfics]

Whatever it takes part 1

Summary: You were blessed with Stefan Salvatore as your boyfriend, but still sometimes you felt like there was missing something in your relationship. Kol is definitely planning on changing that.

Pairing: Stefan Salvatore x reader

Warnings: mentions of sex and violence. That’s all for this part.

Words: 2.2k

You had recently moved to Mystic Falls and your life had been filled with vampires, hunters, witchers, hybrids and everything dangerous and supernatural ever since. However, you had never been as happy as you were here. That happiness was mostly caused by your extremely handsome and sweet boyfriend: Stefan Salvatore. Although, sometimes you felt like there was something missing in your relationship...

Lately, it had been unusually quiet in the little town. Peace had been made with the Orignals and all was well since then. You had the feeling that this peace and quiet would not last that long. It was Mystic Falls after all...

You were disturbed from your daydream when two strong arms grabbed you from behind and a pair of soft lips were attached to your neck. “Penny for your thoughts.” you heard Stefan whisper in your ear. “I was just thinking how it had been so peaceful here lately and that I don’t trust that to be for long.” you said, sharing your concern with Stefan. “(Y/N), you have nothing to worry about as long as I am here I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe and you know that.” he said lovelingly as he turned you around on your feet to kiss you on your lips. You smiled into his kiss. “Maybe even a little too safe.” you responded.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Stefan said loudly. He was clearly upset. “How in the world could you ever be too safe?” “No, Stefan. I don’t mean it like that. It is just that sometimes you treat me like... like I’m...” you stopped talking since you could not find the right words to express your feelings. “Like what, (Y/N)?” Stefan practically screamed. By now you were pretty sure that everybody downstairs was listening to your conversation. And you knew that the guys would always come over to the Salvatore house, because of all the liquor. “Damn those vampires with their super hearing,” you thought to yourself. 

“Like what, (Y/N)?” Stefan repeated his question. “And don’t make me ask again.” he said semi-threathening. You sighed. “Fine. Sometimes you treat me like I’m so vulnerable. Like I would break and shatter in a thousand pieces.” you explained. “(Y/N), you are vulnerable. You’re one of the few humans left in our group and you have nothing to protect yourself against the supernatural.” Stefan answered. “I’m not talking about protecting myself or fighting the supernatural, Stefan. I’m talking about us.” you said more fiercely than intended. Stefan looked at you with pure confussion on his face. “(Y/N), you’re not making any sense.”

“I want you to be rough. I need you to be rough.” you started to explain. “Sometimes I don’t want you to make love to me, I want you to fuck me.” you screamed out. You were sure that everyone downstairs could hear your conversation by now, even without vampire hearing. “(Y/N), you know I can’t. Even if I wanted it. I couldn’t live with myself if I’d ever hurt you.” Stefan said while he grabbed your hands. “Stefan, stop saying that! I’m done with that fucking excuse.” you screamed as you pulled away from his grip and you walked away fastly. You needed to be alone right now. You needed to cool down. 

You ran down the stairs to find Damon, Klaus, Kol and Alaric looking at you with amusement dripping from their faces. “You know, love. If Stefan can’t satisfy you, you know where to find me.” Klaus said while he gave you a wink. “I’ll keep that in mind.” you said playfully to the Original. You said goodbye to Stefan, who had followed you and came down the stairs as well. You turned your back to him and left the house. Stefan looked like he was about to kill Klaus and you smirked to yourself. You would never cheat on Stefan, but if making him jealous would improve your sexlife you would definitely give it a shot. 

A few days had passed and you hadn’t seen Stefan since your argument. You hadn’t seen anyone for that matter. You received a text from Bonnie asking if you wanted to go to the grill to meet up and have some drinks. You really needed the company and the drinks, so you said you’d be there. 

You were on your way to the grill and you were greeted by Caroline, Elena and Bonnie and a lot of cocktails. “Hey, (Y/N). We figured you might need those.” Caroline explained as she pointed towards the drinks. You nodded as you sat down at the table. “I’m guessing you all heard what happened the other night.” you sighed. “Yes, Damon gave us a slight impression.”Elena answered. “Maybe I just overreacted.” you admitted. “I love Stefan with all my heart. And it’s not like he is bad in bed. Not at all.” you explained. “(Y/N), it’s okay to want more from a relationship.” Caroline assures you. “Yes, definitely.” Bonnie said nodding. “But first we’re going to finish these drinks.” Elena said with a wink. 

You were already a couple of drinks in when all of a sudden you saw Kol and Klaus entering the grill. They were closely followed by Damon and Stefan and your heart skipped a beat when you looked into Stefans eyes. He smiled at you shyly not sure if you had wanted to see him already. You smiled back and before you had the chance to stand up and walk over to him Kol joined the four of you. “I brought you a drink.” he said smirking as he handed you a tequila sunrise. “Thanks, Kol.” you said surprised as you took the drink from him.

You wanted to get up to see Stefan when all of a sudden a strong hand grabbed your arm. “Where do you think you’re going?” Kol asked. “To see Stefan.” you explained. “I can only let you go after you finish your drink.” he said secretive. “Uhm, okay then.” you said hesitantly. He was acting strange. Even for Kol. You didn’t think much of it tho and finished the drink quickly, showed the empty glass to Kol and left to see Stefan. 

Stefan was over at the bar with a drink in his hand and his eyes on your body. “Hi, Stef.” you started. “I’m sorry. I crossed a line the other night and we don’t have to change anything if you don’t want to.” you said without breathing. Stefan silenced you by placing his lips on yours. He pulled you into a deep and passionate kiss. And you felt the world fading around you. Like it was just you and Stefan. He slowly pulled away from you and you felt yourself returning to the grill. “You don’t need to apologize, babe. I actually came to say that we can try whatever you want tonight.” he wishpered into your ear. Sending shivers down your spine. You gasped for air and nodded. “I would like that very much. Let me grab my things from the table and we can leave.” you said before you rushed over to the girls and Kol.

“I’m sorry to rush out like this.” you said to the girls, who were sipping their cocktails. “But something came up with Stefan.” you said, while you were unable to surpress a smirk. You were about to grab your things when that same strong hand from before grabbed your arm again. “I’m sorry, dear, but I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.” Kol said with dark eyes. “What the fuck do you mean?” you said as you tried to escape his grip, but he was way stronger than you. “It is getting way too boring over here in this shitty town.” Kol explained. “And after I overheard your little fight with Stefan the other night I came up with something to relight the fire in this town and perhaps also in your relationship.” he continued with a wink.

“What the fuck are you doing, Kol.” you said angrily. Stefan noticed that there was something happening and stood behind you and Kol in less than a second. “You heard her, asshole. Let her go or I’ll make you.” Stefan threatened Kol. “Or you’ll make me.” Kol said laughing. “I would like to see you try...” Stefan came at Kol immediately but he was no match for the Original. Kol threw him through the grill. Stefan was up on his feet again in no time and planned on attacking Kol a second time. “I would not come one step closer if I were you.” Kol said dark. “Unless you want me to cut her throat with this dagger.” he threatened as he grabbed a dagger from his pocket and held it against your troath. 

“Kol, brother. You don’t want to do this.” Klaus began trying to calm down his brother. “You don’t think I’m capable of killing this little human.” Kol started to laugh. “Do you even know me, brother.” “I’m sensing some brotherly tension here.” Damon remarked sarcastically. “Oh shut up.” Klaus and Kol said in unison. “Kol, what do you want?” Stefan asked desperately. “What I want is quite simple actually. I just want to spark up this place.” Kol started to explain. “You see this town has gotten kind of dull without all the violence and bloodshed and I just want to change that.” he said with a low and dark voice. 

“If you kill me, the only blood that will be shed, is yours.” you said with anger present in your voice. “You see. I really don’t want to kill you, (Y/N).” Kol began. “I would really miss that cute ass of yours if I did kill you.” he whispered in your ear. Stefan began to really lose his patience. “If you don’t want to kill her then why is that dagger pressed against her throat?” he remarked angrily. “Well, my dear Stefan. It is because slitting her throat won’t kill her. Not really...” he said simply. “So, just like how driving a white oak stake through your heart wouldn’t kill you. Oh wait it would...” Damon joked. 

“Shit, Stefan. He means that it wouldn’t kill me, because it would turn me.” you explained. “I’m not following. There’s no vampire blood in your system.” Stefan said with utter confusion on his face. “Are you absolutely sure about that, Stefan.” Kol said with a smirk on his face. “Stefan, there is! He made me drink a tequila sunrise. I didn’t think much of it, but he must have spiked it.” you said shakingly. “Such a clever girl.” Kol remarked. “I’m glad one of you figured it out.” he laughed.

“No!” Stefan shouted. “I’m not going to let you turn her. Whatever you want I’ll do it just let her go.” “That is exactly the reaction I was hoping for, my best Stefan.” Kol smiled. “So of course I have an ultimatum. I won’t turn (Y/N). If you...  Oh boy, this is going to be so much fun. Can you imagine all the blood that will be spilled...” “If I do what, Kol.” Stefan interrupted him. “Just one simple thing, Salvatore. Just turn your humanity off. That’s all I’m asking.” Kol smirked. 

“No! Stefan, I won’t let you do that!” you screamed as tears dripped down your eyes. “It’s okay. Atleast now we can be together forever.” you tried to talk Stefan out of it, because you could see in his eyes that he was ready to turn it off. “Stef, I can’t let you go on a killingspree. Just listen to me.” you said desperately. You noticed that Stefan was torn by the dilemma. You honestly didn’t mind becoming a vampire and you and Stefan had talked numerous times about him turning you. You would always tell him that you were okay with whomever would turn you as long as it wasn’t Katherine Pierce or Kol Mikaelson. And here you were regretting you ever mentioned the latter to Stefan. You knew that he would never go through with this, he would never let Kol, of all people, turn you. 

Kol also noticed the doubt in Stefans face. His goal was to make Stefan turn his switch, because that seemed like the most fun to him. “You know, Stefan. Chances are that whenever she turns, she will be sired to me. How great would that be. Your little girlfriend doing everything I desire. I also bet I can give her whatever she needs.” Kol smirked. “Fuck, I’ll do it! I’ll turn it off.” Stefan shouted, since he couldn’t take it anymore. “Just let her go.” he demanded. “It took you longer to cave than I anticipated, but I just knew that your love for this one girl would make you foolish. And no humanity Stefan would also boost your sexlife, so everybody wins.” Kol said triumphant. 

He removed the dagger and pushed you towards Stefan. “Now it’s time to say goodbye to your beloved Stefan. God knows if you’ll ever see him again.” Kol laughed wickedly. You stumbled over to Stefan with the tears streaming down your cheecks. “Stefan, no! What have you done?” you said shakingly. “Whatever it takes, right.” Stefan said as he tried to calm you down. “I love you, Stef.” you said as you grabbed his cheek. “I love you too, (Y/N). Forever.” he said before he placed a soft and loving kiss on your lips. You looked back up in his gorgeous green eyes and that was the last you saw of the Stefan you love.

[prose-for-hire]

Puppy love

Pairing: Spike x reader

Request: idea! willow practicing her magic skills by trying to grow a plant instantly. spike mocks her then willow calls him a bitch & he somehow turns into a dog & freaks. then reader finds puppy!spike stuck in some fence near the graveyard & takes him in & cares for him & rambles about their life/interests cuz now they have fluffy friend! then wakes up to see regular spike on the dog bed & freaks. Maybe later they go back to graveyard looking for pup & spike saves from attack & heals them @ his crypt?

AN: I changed the start a little from the original request, hope that’s okay. Right, so, I was in a full on debate with myself about what breed of puppy Spike should be transformed into. I chose a lil black lab cos they’re cute

Also, there is now a teeny tiny second part to this

Xander and Willow were supposed to be having a double date with Oz and Cordelia, but they had met first to try a de-lusting spell as they had been cheating on their respective partners. You had no knowledge of this, you didn’t usually get tangled in the drama like the rest of them, although they were all your friends.

Little did anyone know that Spike had rolled into town in a drunken stupor, overhearing Willow’s conversation at the Magic Box about her upcoming spell. He figured where he could find them and planned to force her to make a love spell so that he could make Drusilla love him again. He was desperately lonely, a broken heart that couldn’t be healed as Drusilla had cheated on him.

Willow was focusing, closing her eyes and trying to make sure her focus was on magic and nothing else. But when the door swung open, it sent Willow into a panic and when she saw that it was Spike storming in demanding a love potion, she couldn’t help but shout what she was feeling.

Son-of-a “Bitch!” was all that Willow shouted out loud, having been interrupted by Spike sending the magic she had started to manifest straight for him. She moved to look at him as she said it, her magic working in such mysterious and sometimes literal ways. It backfired and Willow’s eyes widened, after a black Labrador puppy appeared from behind a cloud of smoke where Spike had been stood before.

She opened her mouth to say something but only a giggle escaped her lips. The puppy growled at her, scampers off. He made it as far as a graveyard before he spoke to himself in confusion, having seen his reflection in a puddle.

“Woof!” Bloody hell! I’m a sodding puppy! I’m gonna kill that good for nothing little witch when I-

He started to scamper away from his reflection, but he was cut off from his non-verbal little rant, as he was running towards a crypt for shelter and got caught on the fencing. The wiring was caught, digging into his flesh slightly. He let out an angry little growl and started to struggle but with no luck.

At this very moment, you were ambling through the graveyard and you happened upon a little puppy who had been tangled up in the wiring. You gasped, he was the cutes little pup with the brightest blue eyes. They were almost human and he was so small, with a loud voice despite the size. You melted, rushing straight over to him and trying to comfort him. He snapped at you, but you loved animals, understanding he was probably a little stressed. You manage to untangle him and start to check his wounds – they are scratches but you decide you’ll have to try and keep an eye on him and take him home. You were so excited to find a little furry friend, despite his apparent grumpy temperament. You carried him home, whispering softly as you did.

“Come in little one, welcome to your new home” You smile, snuggling into him and kissing the top of his head. He snaps at you and you move him from your head, stroking him and whispering that you understood. Instead you showed him around your small house - he must have been through a lot so you would work up to kisses and snuggles.

You fed him and made sure he wasn’t more hurt than you thought and then decided he should have a name. All you could come up with was ‘pup’ for now. You made a small nest of blankets in the corner of your room, so that he had somewhere to sleep. However, when it got to bedtime after the pup exploring the house for most of the evening, he refused to settle. He just kept scampering back up to sleep in your bed. No matter how many times you scooped him up, he returned to the same spot.

“No, you have a little nest here!” You explain, lifting him again and nestling him on top of the blankets on the floor, “Pup, no!” you try to half-heartedly scold him, but his little face made it too hard.

“Woof” No bloody way am I sleeping on the floor like some animal – why don’t you sleep on the floor you bloody-

“Aw, you little sweetheart! Are you talking to me? Are you?” You whisper, stroking his soft fur adoringly.

“Woof woof” I will kill you and your little friends and if you – oh, that actually feels nice – no, you bloody don’t trick me into – behind the ears, love – that’s it

“You like that, huh? A little scratch behind the ears? I think we’re gonna be good friends little one” You grinned as he started to finally relax in your presence. You paused, deciding you would have to give in and let him sleep here just this once.

“Woof” Don’t stop! What are you doing you strange bitch-

“Okay, you’ve twisted my arm – you can sleep on the bed, but you can’t hog the covers” You joked, dogs can’t steal covers, you giggle. The pup moved his head to the side, almost as if he was studying you closely. His eyes seemed human, he was such a little sweetheart your heart was melting. You were so pleased you had found him. You settled in bed and the pup curled up beside you.

You stayed up that first night, excitedly checking on your new friend, making sure you hadn’t dreamt him up. He didn’t appear to be too bothered about the little grazes from the fencing but you wondered whether you should take him to the vets. You considered checking if he was chipped, or getting him chipped, but something inside told you he might not handle that too well. Maybe a hunch.

It had been a week and the pup was getting more used to you. Your little furry friend could be a little bit of a grouch but you always won him around with snuggles and scratches behind the ear. He was very talkative, little yips as if he was telling you something very important, and he seemingly liked the affection you were giving him.

You continue over the next few weeks to curl up with the pup in the evenings and ramble about anything and everything that came to mind. Sometimes, you could swear pup was actually listening.

“Sometimes I get a little lonely, the Scoobies are all so nice but they’re all coupled up and I feel a little left behind. Is there something wrong with me, pup? Where’s my big romantic story?”

“Woof” Nothing wrong with you pet, except maybe you’re a little too trusting letting a beast like this into the house and expecting to remain unscathed

“Stop, little one! That tickles!” You giggle as his tiny teeth start to playfully snap at your hand. He settled back down, and you continued to speak, “At times, I feel like I’m making things worse instead of helping with the slaying. I made Buffy let Spike go the last time he was here. He seemed to mean well, getting rid of Angelus and all. Everyone thinks I trust too easily – see the good even when there’s none there. I feel stupid, like a child”

“Woof woof” Rot! You’re not stupid! Bloody seen enough of your lot to see that you’re the best of them, pet

“Willow says Spike came back the other week, but he disappeared. His eyes looked so sad when I saw him come back. I wish he had love like him and Drusilla had…” you sigh again, stroking the pup softly as you were in deep thought.

“Woof. Woof. Woof!” Mad bloody bint doesn’t love me – she sodding cheated! Don’t get me started, I mean – a chaos demon?! You don’t want love like that, believe me pet

“Aw someone’s chatty! I know, I know I have you. My favourite little man” You cooed and this time, the cute little pup didn’t grumble like he usually would, instead he leaned his head onto your lap. Snuggling you without prompt.

Over the next couple of weeks, the pup had slowly started to sleep closer to you, as if he were seeking to protect you which made you giggle. He was so small, he was all bark and no bite. He snuggled up nearer you in the night, enjoying your body heat. You both got used to each other, sometimes you swore he was actually speaking to you. You both enjoyed snuggling up in the evenings, and you showed pup all of your favourite shows. You took him on little walks although he still hadn’t mastered fetch.

You were becoming used to each other, until one morning everything was different. You woke up one morning, a strange weight over you, finding a man lying in your bed. No, not a man. A vampire. You scream, looking around wildly for the pup – he made you feel safer. Your screaming made him stir, “How did you even get in?!” you shrieked, moving away from him. Spike realised he’s back to himself and started to run, pulling your duvet from your bed and around him and out the door.

Spike had a weird affection for you after this, feeling like he really knows you. Gets you. He shared your loneliness, wanting to take it from you as you had started to make him feel better. From what you said to him, he felt that he understood you, you’re a romantic. Like him. You’re loyal. He found himself having an innate need to protect you. Look out for you. Wants to hold you and be held by you again. He missed it more than he found himself missing Drusilla.

You were lonely without pup. His little blue eyes would be all mopey and lost again. You needed to find him, you just hoped that he hadn’t been eaten by one of Sunnydale’s many predators.

You walk into the graveyard, looking for pup. You hadn’t lost hop in finding him. He was so innocent, you were worried he was stuck again. Spike had decided to stay in Sunnydale rather than going after Dru. He watched you walk into the graveyard, sighing, rolling his eyes at how oblivious you are. Just taking a stroll when anything could be hiding in the shadows. He swiftly stepped out of the shadows to tell you this, but another demon beat him to it.

You squeal, stumbling and falling backwards as Spike swiftly steps in front of you and beats it up, protecting you from the threat. There was a strange familiarity and need to hug Spike as a thank you, maybe even scratch him behind the ears.

“Come on, pet, I’ve got some of those candies you like” He offered, gesturing towards an abandoned crypt with no explanation. Gestures his head again for you to follow him as you just stare dumbfounded. You feel conflicted, like he was offering you candy to get into a van. But you followed him, trusting his intentions. Knowing, somehow, that he was being sincere. His demeanour towards you appeared to change since he was in Sunnydale last. He almost appeared to have affection for you and you couldn’t help feeling something for him although you couldn’t name it.

“Why are you being nice, Spike?” You ask after he hands you your favourite snacks that he appeared to have actually bought from a shop. There was a receipt and everything in the bag. You were now both sat in a crypt that he had appeared to have done up to look like a house.

“I was the pup you were dotin’ on oh so kindly. Red’s spell gone wrong” he explained with a shrug. You cringe a little, you had poured your heart out over that month or so you were together.

“Oh, uh, you want me to pay you to… stop you from telling people? You’re gonna eat me, aren’t you?” You asked, sighing rather than screaming this time.

“Nothing like that, pet… uh, you give good hugs” he admits with a shrug. You nod slowly as if this made sense. He was missing the affection, being held. He enjoyed it and he wanted it again. Only with you, though.

You’re very trusting and he knew he could talk to you. He started to talk about his most intimate feelings, telling you of his loneliness. Heartbreak. He told you in detail, everything that happened with Drusilla. You were sat, hanging on every word for most of the night. Your eyes started to water, your sobs strangled as you tried not to cry in front of him. You move in to hug him and to your surprise, he wrapped his arms around you in return. His own eyes threatening to spill over as he thought about his past that he had just laid before you so honestly. It was strange, he wasn’t used to being so honest about his past – but it was only fair. You had told him a lot about yourself.

Not willing to leave the warmth of each other’s embrace, you followed him and slipped into bed beside him. You both held each other through the rest of the night and well into the day. You snuggle into each other wordlessly. It became a common occurrence, with Spike staying with you in Sunnydale rather than returning to look for Drusilla. He doesn’t even joke about biting you, that often, he just wants the security of your arms, as you want his.

[clansayeed]

WIP Wednesday ft. Bound by Destiny II, part 2 ― Chapter 7

WORD COUNT: 1,160 RATING: Mature (this series is rated MATURE for graphic violence and adult content) FEAT: Nadya Al Jamil (MC), Jax Matsuo, Serafine Dupont CONTENT WARNINGS: language, spoilers for book 5

NOTE: Because I feel so bad about having to put book 5 on hiatus again, here’s a treat for WIP Wednesday! It’s not much, but any more would have been too many spoilers and I wanted to keep the suspense.

So enjoy this little snippet from the middle of Chapter 7 in the mean time, and once again I wanted to thank everyone who has been so supportive during this hiatus!

Bound by Destiny II, part 2 Chapter 7 releases February 10th!        *Bound by Destiny II and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing reimagining project of the Bloodbound series and spin-off Nightbound. Check out the first 4 books in the Oblivion Bound series, linked below!

⥼ ABOUT OBLIVION BOUND ⥽ | ⥼ FIC MASTERLIST ⥽

TAG LIST: @googlesentmehere, @cess02, @hellyeah90sbaby, @tayab12, @saratustra4​, @imnotdonewiththeelementalists​, @thepotatobleh​

“I still can’t believe you just called the guy up.”

Jax has barely paid any of it a second glance; not the journey or the destination. He’s stayed in pretty much the same position the entire drive; arms never uncrossing from his chest and, to literally no one’s surprise, with his sword never leaving his lap.

“How would you rather I have gone about arranging this little parley then, hm?”

The two vampires stare one another down in silence. Suddenly the cabin feels a lot more cramped and heated than it did just a moment ago. Nadya tugs at the collar of her shirt in discomfort.

“I’m not saying I had a plan, but if I’d had time to make one it wouldn’t be walking through his front door.”

But the younger’s irritation only seems to amuse Serafine, who purses her lips into a thin line to keep from smirking at him too obviously.

“Ah, oui. I suspect you would have gone looking for a secret entrance of some kind… perhaps a sewage tunnel by which to secret yourself in and out undetected?”

Jax just shrugs. “Can’t say I wouldn’t.”

“I can.”

Two words and just like that all the mirth is sapped from the air around them. Nothing fills the void left behind; it stays hollow and empty with foreboding.

“If such a passage did exist, which I can assure you it does not, would the Order not have used it long ago in much the same way?” She raises a single eyebrow at Jax, continuing before he has a chance to answer her.

“While your modern methods are indeed a fresh eye on an old war, Jax, they seem to blind you to the full scope of the kind of life we have lived here for all these centuries. Safety is but a fleeting dream to us. No shadow goes undisturbed for signs of the enemy. Every shelter — from a boarded-up chapel on the wayside to a sprawling manor house such as this — has been deemed safe only after proceeding with the utmost caution.

“Even someone as brazen as Vlad would not dare risk his own life by doing anything else.”

Nadya swears she can hear Jax’s teeth grind in his set jaw. That may be the gravel under the tires though.

The limo starts to slow down as they pass through a break in the hedges to reveal a wide arcing roundabout that stops just shy of the castle’s imposing front doors.

“So what you’re saying is if this goes to shit tonight there’s really no escape plan, huh?” Jax finally asks, and with a much softer voice than either Serafine or Nadya would have expected.

It makes the vampiress throw him a sympathetic look. One he pointedly ignores, but when has that ever stopped her before?

“Have you such little faith in my charming disposition?”

It’s a meager attempt to lighten the somber mood at best, but it’s enough to at least ease his suddenly white-knuckled grip on the sheath of his katana.

“More like a lack of faith in your judgment.”

“Inspired by?”

“Whatever the hell you see in Raines.”

It’s as though the driver has been taking his sweet time waiting for a break in their tension to finally get there. Which can’t possibly be the case; since the partition has been up from the moment they pulled away from the hotel and the ones they left behind… can it?

He cuts the engine abruptly. Something about the reigning silence makes Nadya’s heart start to inch its way up into her throat. Jax, sitting closest to her and no doubt hearing the spike in her pulse, reaches out and squeezes her shoulder.

“You okay there?”

She gives a noncommittal shrug, glad when he doesn’t drop his hand. “Situationally or existentially?” The joke, unfortunately, doesn’t quite land.

“At least this one is above ground.” He tries to reassure her. But apparently neither of them are allowed the luxury.

“The parts you can see…” Serafine says; her last words before the door opens to signal their arrival.

The night air is cold and makes Nadya’s eyes water as she steps out between her companions. She would have rather had Kamilah or Adrian at her side but that just wasn’t possible.

Serafine had made a point that couldn’t be denied. Between Kamilah’s assumed death and Gaius’ known ability to hold a grudge longer than most modern civilizations had been around, those two were pretty much screwed if anyone just so happened to recognize them. With Antony and Isseya off the radar since Kamilah’s return and none of them having any hint or clue as to whether or not Gaius had started extending his reach overseas yet, they were better off housebound (metaphorically speaking) for the time being.

As it is they’re risking enough bringing Jax along, but apparently the fact he hadn’t made “much of an impression” on Gaius, to put it in Kamilah’s own words, was to their benefit. They were playing safe over sorry with Lily and her newly-acquired quirks too.

It was easy to write off the fact that Serafine hadn’t even allowed Cadence to volunteer before shooting him down as being, well, Serafine and Cadence being Serafine and Cadence. But there’s still a lot they don’t know about whatever had happened to their friends when the group split up — whatever it was though was enough to ease that tension in ways nobody would have expected.

“The intention is to meet with Vlad as quickly as possible, and ideally without arousing suspicion from him or any who might be in his entourage.” Serafine had explained. “Seeing as Cynbel of the Trinity has been famously dead for over a century now, seeing him suddenly reappear in the midst of Gaius’ ascension might as well be the definition of suspicious.”

The argument was fair and valid and lucky for them to have that kind of forethought, honestly. But when Nadya thinks back to the vague air of their talk back at Ahmanet in London and pairs it almost absentmindedly with the way Serafine and Kamilah exchanged a long and almost nervous glance at one another when Cadence’s back is turned…

Let’s just say at this point she’s just waiting around for the other shoe to drop. Or the other-other shoe. Like the kind of shoe an octopus might wear or something.

All of that and only Nadya is left; always the odd one out. But the Bloodkeeper can’t not do this, so what choice does she have?

They just have to hope Kamilah was right when she assumed Gaius would want to do everything in his power not to let Nadya’s name and face spread too far or wide. That he wouldn’t dare run the risk of someone else getting to her before he could.

Neither option appeals, for the record. But at least she’s not the only one risking her neck.

[dad-dictatious-galadrigal]

[[ 💫 ]]

(( I thought this was for my Ruby blog but then I read its for my Dictatious blog. But I already wrote this fic. But Dictatious is in it? So I’m going to post it anyways!))

Fire Escape by Andrew McMahon in the Wilderness

You're number one You're the reason I'm still Up at dawn Just to see your face We'll be going strong With the vampires, baby We belong, we belong awake

Natasha May. You are a fool. But you are a happy fool. And that is saying a lot about your colleagues. 

She looks in the mirror and braid her long, red hair. She smiles in the mirror as her golden cat eyes glow. She humans happily as she ties the last bit of braid at the end of her hair. 

She pushes the braid back, it hits her spikes on her back. She examines herself in the mirror for anything out of place. She fixes her bangs and then smiles in the mirror. She is satisfied with her look.  

She picks up the basket of food next to her and wonders out of the cabin and into the night. She hums happily as she wonders into the forest. Swinging her basket, almost skipping. She is young, careless, and happy. 

A fool she is. 

But a happy fool. 

She smiles big as she sees the green, six eye and four arm troll. She waves at him. “Dictatious!” 

He looks over at her and smiles. “Hello Natasha, your hair looks nice.” 

She blushes a bit as she walks over to him. “Thanks, felt like putting it up. I brought food for us! What book did you ” 

Dictatious grins. “Actually, I thought we might go on a little adventure today.” 

“Adventure?” She ask surprise. “I thought you were one of those trolls who sits at home and reads.” 

“Oh shush! I can be quite an adventurous one as well!” 

She grins. “Where are you taking me?” 

“You’ll see, but it involves climbing. You okay with that?” 

“The real question is, are you okay with climbing?”

“With these four arms, I can.” 

Natasha let out a chuckle. “Well prove it to me Dictatious!” 

“Alright, let’s go!” 

The two friends wonder deep into the forest, talking and telling jokes. They arrive at a rocky cliff. Dictatious turns to her. “Ready to climb?” 

“Oh I’m ready!” She walks over to the cliff and begins to climb. 

Dictatious follows her up the cliff. 

“Hurry up slow poke!” Natasha calls down. 

“You are just fast because of your long legs!” Dictatious calls back up. 

“What happen to your four arms? Did they stop working?” 

“Oh shut up!” 

Natasha laughs as she continues to climb. Once she reach the top, she looks over at the field and gasp. 

All over the field are white flowers. The flowers sway in the soft breeze and let out a glowing light. Natasha walk up to a patch of flowers and kneel. She gently touch a petal with her long claw. It’s very soft. She is amazed how beautiful these flowers are. 

“You like it?” Dictatious ask, catching his breath. 

“It’s…so beautiful.” She mumbles. 

“They’re call Angel Flowers. They are very magical. Wizards use them for potions and spells. Some even use them to gain more power.” Dictatious explain. 

“Wow….” She whispers. 

Dictatious kneels next to her and reaches and picks a flower. He then tuck the flower in Natasha’s red hair. She glances at him and smiles. 

“Thank you….for bring me here.” 

Dictatious nods. “I thought you might appreciate this.” 

They stayed in the field for the rest of the night. Playing games, eat, talk. When dawn approach, the friends left their secret garden. 

[darkjanet2]

Drusilla's Soul - Chapter 6

1900 China

In the misty bamboo forest Drusilla chopped off the bamboo stalk and tore the leaves apart. She pierced through the stem to make a hole, and then she inserted red cloth into it. She put on a bamboo muzzle in her mouth and tied it. It prevented her from biting anyone or getting splashed blood into her mouth. She went to the hut and put on new clothes. She wore a light pink kimono with a hemp leaf pattern, the lining a paler pink, with a red and white checkered obi and a thin piece of orange thread looped and knotted around her waist, another band of green above it. Over this, she sported a long, dark brown haori that reached past her knees, as well as pink zori sandals and white socks, wrapped with thick pieces of black material and finally she put on a black coat. Drusilla brushed her hair and tied it with a small pink ribbon. She looked really good in that new outfit.

The moon almost rose, she gathered all the weapons and bombs in the crates and put inside the ship. That was the last of it. When the moon began to rise, she prepared the ship across the sea. Drusilla saw something from the land. There was smoke in the air with very brightening light and hot. A fire? Was there a battlefield? She had to hurry and save innocent lives. She knew Angelus and the others were already there.

Drusilla arrived at the land and searched for the survivors in this area. But there weren’t out there. So she went into the hut, inside it was dark, vandalized. She scanned around the hut. Suddenly, she heard a noise from the corner. Then she found the survivors, there one boy and one girl behind those barrels. Of course, the poor children were scared. Drusilla removed her bamboo muzzle so she could speak to them.

“It’s alright, I won’t hurt you. Where are your parents?” she asked.

The young boy responded, “That… that man murdered our parents.” Drusilla was aghast.

“He invaded our village and killed them in front of us,” the little girl said, “We hid in the hut so he couldn’t find us. He… is a monster!” she cried, her big brother comforted her.

The boy said, “He was tall, he has black hair-”

“Yes, I know him. He murdered my family, too.” Drusilla said, “Listen, that man's name is Angelus and he’s a vampire.”

“Vampire?!” she gasped.

“Yes. He made me insane before I was turned. But right now, I’m a good vampire with a soul.” said Drusilla.

“A soul? You’re a good vampire?” asked the boy.

“So you’ll help us?” asked the girl, hopefully.

“Uh-huh, there is a ship out there. So you have to evacuate.” said Drusilla.

“Okay, thank you, miss. Let’s go, Mei Ying.” said Li.

They both evacuated the hut and got in the ship safely. Now she had to find the next survivors.

She found the elders, women, men, children and disabled people. And everyone got on the ship safely.

“I guess that’s the last of them.” Drusilla thought.

“Okay, all of you are here. I’ll start a ship and—”

“Wait! Where’s Xin? My daughter is out there!” the woman cried.

“What? Is she still out there?” shocked Drusilla.

“My daughter is a slayer. She’s fighting a vampire right now.” said the woman.

“Slayer…” Drusilla thought.

Then she suddenly had a vision, a Chinese slayer was fighting with a vampire, it was Spike. He was able to knock the stake from her hand, caught her, and bit her. She told him to tell her mother she was sorry in Chinese.

Back in reality, Drusilla couldn’t let that happen! She had to hurry and aid her before he killed her!

“She must be in that temple,” Drusilla said, “I want you all to stay here till I get back. I will bring your daughter back.” Drusilla jumped down from the ship and headed to the Buddhist temple. Inside the hall, all the warriors were deceased, their necks had torn and the bodies were missing limbs.

Drusilla heard a footsteps coming front of her. It was a blonde woman wearing a green hanfu carrying a sword. It was Darla.

“I’d never thought you’d come to this place. And I knew you were cursed by Kalderash to have a filthy soul.” said Darla, having a scowl on her face.

Drusilla narrowed her eyes and took a fighting stance. Darla drew out her sword and took a stance.

“Prepare to die, Drusilla.” said Darla, transforming her face into a vampire and charging at her. Then Drusilla put on a game face and charged at her, as well.

They both clashed with each other every blow and strike. Drusilla dodged Darla’s sword she struck, kicked her into her gut, uppercut under her chin. Angered, Darla slashed her shoulder, Dru yelled in muffle, it was painful. Leaving a gash on her shoulder.

Drusilla endured the pain, she jabbed her to the jaw, kicked her to the rib, grappled her armed hand to drop the sword, and threw her to the ground. Drusilla took the sword and said, " Nice try."

Darla said, " Damn you! I'm not done yet."

Darla kicked to Dru’s head as she fell back to the floor. Darla pinned her down and pummeled her face. Drusilla kicked her gut by force. She then fought her back with brutality. Darla knocked out cold. Drusilla had to find the slayer to aid.

Inside the Buddhist Temple

“Say goodnight, Slayer.” said Spike, trying to bite her. Someone yanked his head and threw him to the wall.

The Chinese Slayer was surprised that someone saved her life. There was a young woman who wore a pink kimono, with red and white checkered obi, those were black leg warmers on her shins, and had sandals, a pink ribbon on her hair, and a bamboo muzzle in her mouth.

“Drusilla?” Spike gasped, “What are you doing and why are you helping the slayer?”

Drusilla removed the muzzle from her mouth and spoke to him.

“I’m here to stop you, Spike. I’m here to help the Slayer. And I am sorry that I made you.” said Drusilla.

Spike began to glare at Drusilla's decision to betray him for a Slayer. Xia Rong was confused by this. Is this woman a vampire being good?

“You… you came here to help me?” asked Xia.

Drusilla nodded, “I have a soul. I no longer kill people. And I won’t let you kill any more people. Or make it much worse!” said Drusilla.

Spike sneered at this new revelation. He turned to Drusilla taking his attention off of Xia. " So, is that going to be? After all things you did for me? To decide that you have a soul?" His voice raised in anger. Drusilla stood there firmly.

“Spike, no matter how much I show to be a vampire. I still have a soul and I’m going to help the helpless,” Drusilla said, standing in a fighting stance. “Now, prepare yourself… William.”

Spike shut his eyes in anger. “Don’t you call me THAT!!” roared Spike, charging at Drusilla.

Drusilla saw Spike charging at her ready to fight him. Her own creation… No, this creation was corrupt by rage for Slayers and for power. Xia saw that Spike was occupied with his new target. Xia quickly got up and kicked Spike in the head. Spike was blindsided by the kick he forgot about his soon to be next victim. Xia headed towards where Drusilla was standing, still knowing full well it was for a distraction for Drusilla to go in for an uppercut. Xia kicked Spike’s gut. Spike now getting up from the attack and in rage ran at Xia onl for Spike to get blindsided again by Drusilla palm to the chest causing him to lose his breath. Xia gripped her Sebon and struck him to the knee. Spike trying to regain his breathing he felt a pain in his knee falling down and grasping his knee and hiss in pain. As Xia and Drusilla surrounded him they heard a door slammed open to reveal a newcomer from the doorway. They both turned to the newcomer. Unsure if he is friend or foe. Either way this gave Spike an opportunity to make his getaway or to ambush the two.

“Drusilla…” Angelus growled, “I thought I’d I never seen you again, yet I know you still have a soul for helping people.” Drusilla was staring at Angelus, Xia turned to her in confusion.

" You know him?” Xia asked at Drusilla. Spike now slowly regained his balance.

“Yes. He murdered my family right in front of me. I was losing my mind before he turned me into a demon! AND YOU DESERVE TO DIE!!!” screamed Drusilla, turning her face into a visage vampire, charging at Angelus.

While Xia was distracted Spike tackled Xia to the ground. Xia fell to the ground to see Spike gain the upper hand. She wasn't going to let him win. She gripped her weapon and whacked him on the side of the ribs causing a few fractures and making him hold his side in pain. She got back up on her feet and kicked him in his ribs. Which he let out a painful scream.

Drusilla counterattack Angelus. She turned to seeing Xia taking care of Spike. Drusilla turned her attention back at Angelus who recovered from the counterattack. She dashed toward him and kicked him in the chest. However, he stepped out of the way and punched her in the face which caused her to hit the floor hard.

“Drusilla!” cried Xia, didn’t pay attention that Spike struck her face, fell into the hard floor.

Spike smirked and walked towards Xia grinning like a mad dog. Angelus grabbed Drusilla’s hair top of her head. Drusilla screamed in pain, trying to release his grasp.

Xia grabbed something in her hand as Spike made his way towards her. She grabbed a bomb and tossed it towards the ceiling causing an explosion crumbling the temple.

Angelus heard the explosion and turned to see the temple ceiling. Giving this opportunity to make her escape she pulled out a small knife and stabbed his thigh causing him to let go of her.

Xia got up as the rubble hit Spike in the head. Xia got up and as the ceiling was falling more rapidly. She helped her new ally up and ran as Angelus still held on to his thigh and proceeded to pull the knife out of his thigh causing him to wince in pain as the ceiling crushed Spike.

Drusilla and Xia started to make their way out of the temple as it came down. Which was nothing but ruins. Xia turned to Drusilla and grinned.

"I guess that makes us even," Xia joked as Drusilla chuckled despite the fact that they only met a few minutes ago.

Next day

The Slayer and Drusilla traveled to Japan Drusilla watched as the ship made a few knots fasters while Xia watched Drusilla in amusement seeing her enjoying the ride.

When they arrived in Japan, they both got off as Xia put her hand out. Drusilla took hers out as well and they both shook each other's hands. They both let go and made their way to their own destination. Drusilla made her way to America and found a new home and job. She could move on and start a new eternal life.

[carryonmywaywardwriters]

Love How You Hate Me - Sam x Reader

A/N: It’s late as fuck. But, hopefully this works soon. As usual, feedback is always incredible. I hope you all enjoy <3

PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Nightmares. Sexual tension. Nothing too wild.

Word Count: Roughly 3,200

“Her name was Esmeralda?” Dean asked through the mouth full of beef and bread. “Like the gypsy from Hunchback of Notre Dame?” Sam deadpanned his brother. “What?”

“Nothing.” Came the shamed sigh before the taller man leaned back in his chair. Refusing to indulge in his sibling's Disney craze.

“What else did he have?” Getting back to business, Dean turned back to you before chomping back into his burger.

“She was African American. Real pretty. He didn't pay her much mind, though. She was too wrapped up in our vic.” You stated from your perch on the small couch the motel carried. Looking over the notes in front of you. The cap of the pen tapped against your lower lip while you thought. Your blouse had been discarded to make up for the heat. Leaving you in just a white tank. “Doesn't fit the vampire mold. though. She was out in the daylight.”

“Maybe we're dealing with a bait girl.” Sam suggested, drawing your attention back to him. His long fingers carefully rolled the white sleeves up along his forearms. Too enticing for your sanity. Luckily, the greasy lip smacking from Dean tugged you back to reality.

“Maybe,” You shrugged, not convinced. “But, I don't think so. She's a dead end.”

“Why's that?” The younger brother's challenging tone only made you roll your eyes.

“Let's just call it a woman's intuition.” A wry smile only made his scowl deeper as he leaned over his own burger.

“Great.” Came the huff. “We're going on intuition, now.”

“Sam-”

“Don't worry about it, Dean.” You got to your feet slowly. Stretching so hard that the undershirt rode up. Noting the way the skin tingled at the contact from the hazel gaze. A gentle pop eased some of the stiffness from all the time crammed in the Impala's back seat. “He'll figure it out.”

“Figure what out?” Yep, definitely defensive.

Your shirt and note pad were snatched up, “Good night, boys.” With that, you sauntered towards the door. Enjoying the way Sam's jaw ticked.

“Wait! No. Figure what out?” Came the demand, again. As if that rough tone would be enough to hold you. “Y/N!”

You pretended you didn't hear him. That his roar hadn't sent shivers down your spine. Your door was shut and locked. Just in case he decided to follow. Public attention be damned.

Instead, you seemed to luck out. If there was one word that could define Sam Winchester, it was intelligent. He'd piece it together sooner than later. Once his brain moved away from the need to kill, anyway.

Bait girls rarely spent longer than night pursing a target. The longest you'd ever known had been a week to end a personal grudge. Any longer drew attention to themselves. To the nests. Drawing in hunters. They'd be killed the moment things got too close.

Esmeralda had been around too long. Was still alive. There wasn't a chance she was the bait. You'd have bet your life on it.

He figure it out? Resisting texting the older Winchester was futile. Or is he still pissed?

Option two. Dean's answer tugged your lips up. He'll get to it, eventually. Get some rest, Vamp Queen. Busy day tomorrow.

Yes, sir.

Vampires had been the closest thing you could call to your specialty. It had been too easy to spot the bait. The fake smiles. Empty promises. Every trick you'd ever picked up being put to use. They'd drawn you in with it. Trying to save them from their holds. Sometimes successfully. Other times, not. Over the years, they became the focus of your attention.

Sam didn't have a clue about any of that, though. Treating you as though it was your first hunt. So unintentionally condescending that you couldn't stand him. What a joke.

Focusing on his presumed ideals about you wouldn't help you wind down. Instead, removed the tank and skirt. Replacing it was one of Dean's old undershirts. Not bothering to worry about anything else.

Exhaustion settled into your bones as you crawled on top of the covers. Forgetting to tug them free from the mattress. The sun was barely set, but that didn't matter. Your eyes drifted shut.

–

Your eyes stared into his. Daring him to make the first move. When he didn't, you rolled your eyes. “You're pathetic, Winchester.”

Bending to put down your glass, you prepared to leave. Sam couldn't have that. His arm grabbed your bicep. Halting you in one swift motion. You didn't turn to him right away. Instead, you took a deep, steadying breath. The moment your glare met his hard gaze, he uttered a single command. “Sit down.”

Soft knocking made Sam's head jerk towards the door. His eyes opened, forcing the dream to tug away. Sure enough, it sounded again past the snoring emitting from Dean. With a groan, he kicked out of the blankets. Rubbing at his face with the back of his hand as he moved to answer it.

“Y/N?” He groggily stared at your form as you shifted at the door. You hadn't bothered to dress. Arms wrapped around your torso, you stood head bowed. “What's going on? It's...four am.”

“I...” You paused, trying to compose yourself. Clearing the lump in your throat. “Can you get Dean?” Despite the attempt to seem well put together, your voice shook. A wince flashed across your face at the sound of it before you gave up. “Please?” It was such a simple word. Earlier it would have made all the blood in his body rush south. But, in that moment, it made his stomach churn. Something was wrong. You sounded...broken. “Sam, please...”

Nothing else could leave your lips. It had been meant as a simple request. But, it was so much more. You needed his cooperation in that moment.

And he gave it without a fight, “I'll get him.”

You nodded your thanks, but didn't say anything else. Instead, you stood defeated. Shaking in the low light of the hallway. Then, it clicked in his sleep fogged brain.

“Sometimes, I have rough nights. Remember things from my past...” Your voice echoed through his mind. His head turned back to the door. Almost tempted to take his brother's place. With a shake of his head, the thoughts were gone.

“Dean,” Sam slammed his hand down on his brother's leg. Instantly, the older brother jerked in response. Reaching for his gun out of instinct, until he realized just who had connected with him.

“Dude, what?” The older sibling bit out. His eyes in slits, yet. They closed for a moment after he caught sight of the alarm. Again, Sam glanced back at the door. Deliberating on what his best option was.

“Y/N...She's at the door. I think … I think she's having one...one of her nights.” The deep green eyes snapped open at that one. “She needs you, man.”

Dean didn't hesitate. Jumping to his feet in an instant. As he pulled on his jeans, he looked at his younger sibling. “How do you know about those?”

“It's not important.” Sam shrugged out, his hand going through his hair. Wondering if you were so bad off that you'd still be sitting in the hallway. He dropped back to his bed instead of going to check.

“Earlier...You said you only knew one important thing about her-”

“Just, go get her out of the hall, Dean. She's not wearing any clothes.” The curt statement didn't make the suspicion leave the older sibling. But, he had bigger things to worry about. You.

“Hey,” Dean's voice was amazingly gentle as he opened the door enough to slip out. “You need to talk?” Sam heard a sniff, but couldn't make out anything else. He couldn't picture your face coated in tears. You always got defiant. If not stubborn, you didn't carry more than a blank slate. Never sad. Never scared. Not around him. Even when he'd seen you sneak into his brother's room, you seemed well held together. But, in that moment, you'd been more fragile than he'd ever thought you could be. “No? I'll talk then. You listen. Okay, sweetheart?”

“Okay.” It was weak, but you'd managed it. “I'm sorry...” A hallow crack escaped. “I...I...I know...I know this has to...to be irritating-”

“Don't.” His brother insisted with just a hint of steel. “It's not your fault. None of it is.” Curiosity spiked at those words. “Just take a breath, Y/N...” You must have done what he'd said. “Let's go... Let Sam get some sleep.”

Flashbacks from his childhood assaulted Sam. When he'd have nightmares, his brother had always been there. Had talked him through them. Around them. Whatever he needed in that moment. Did anytime he caught them. Even if his little brother was all grown up.

It was Dean's way of filling the gap their mother had left behind when she'd been killed by Azazel. His way of making up for the lack of real parenting they'd received from John Winchester. A chance to remain the protector.

Sam hadn't connected the dots until he witnessed it up close and personal. Dean wasn't in love with you. Sure as hell wasn't fucking you. No, he was taking you under his wing. Just like he'd done with Sam when he had been nothing more than a child himself.

The door shut quietly, as if Dean had already expected Sam to be out cold. Too uninterested to listen in. In reality, Sam sat staring at the door through the darkness. Wondering what had been bad enough to make you beg him while being fully conscious...

–

You'd moved on as if that night had never happened. As if Sam hadn't seen your weakened state. That infuriating blank mask back in place.

The only thing you'd done to acknowledge it had ever happened was a muttered thank you, a light squeeze of his bicep, and a small- shy- smile before you'd moved on. He would have thought he'd imagined it all- including your thanks- if it wasn't for the way Dean hovered over you. Determined to be there whenever you needed him. It didn't seem to phase you the way the older brother leered over you protectively. Instead, you threw yourself into the hunt with vigor.

You'd been the one who located the nest. Figured out that it was a group of females that only fed on males. Even managing to crack a joke over the whole new meaning to the words 'man eater'. You'd managed to be the one who had identified how many members there were, and they're most active period. Always three steps ahead of Sam when it came to the case. He had to wonder if you were truly sleeping at all.

There was a piece of his pride that had been destroyed on your quest for violence. But the rest of him? It was impressed. He knew you were book smart when it came to hunting. There'd been too many times you'd found the answers they'd needed at the bunker before he had a chance to. But, this went so much deeper than that. You'd been on a roll with the entire thing.

The only problem? He'd yet to see you fight. And damn if it didn't twist his gut to think of the consequences.

The impala was parked a few blocks from the building the vampires were housed in- a small, abandoned hospital that had closed sometime back in the early 1900s. Dean had taken care to hide the muscle car in a small clearing in the forest. No one from the road, or the nest, would have any clue that there was an ambush on the way.

You were in jeans and a simple black baseball shirt. Velcro straps wrapped around your thighs and attached to your belt before your blades were set in. Already coated in the ashes of saffron, skunk cabbage, and trillium to hide your scent. The third blade in your hand.

“What?” Hazel eyes were burning into your skin as you got ready. Sam didn't bother over doing it. Leaning against the Impala, simply watching you.

“Tomb raider fan?” His lip quirked lightly. Drawing a twitch to your eye. It was easier to tease than to worry.

“I'm protecting myself.” You retorted, bending to make sure the strap was secure. Turning away as if he didn't set your nerves on edge all decked out in a brown plaid that fit a tad too snugly. “We're dealing with a big nest.” The small machete was spun in your fingers to move it away from your skin as you straightened back to your full height. “I refuse to be a victim.” The unspoken again hung in the air. His eyes seemed to soften a bit, only serving to make your brows snap together. You didn't want his pity. “If you were smart? You'd have a back up, too.”

“I don't need more than one blade. I know how to use the one I have.” Your breath hitched at the double entendre. When your eyes flashed back his way, you couldn't miss the satisfaction. Nothing short of male arrogance hung in the air.

“Cute.” You wrinkled your nose, pushing away the way you'd lit up. Refusing to let him get under your skin. “Let's just chop up some vamps. Get this shit over with.” Kicking off of the vehicle, you moved to go find Dean. To speed things along.

“You really are a blood thirsty little thing, aren't you?” He asked seriously, reaching over to check his blade's sharpness as you whipped back his way.

“I try to reserve it to monsters...and you.” The final jab hit its mark. But, he didn't flinch. Simply straightened to his full height. “Blood is only fun when it comes from the right people.”

“Didn't peg you for the kinky type.” Deadpanned, he waited for a reaction to the lie. Maybe to goad you into leaving. Possibly to amp you up for the fight ahead. Adrenaline was adrenaline, no matter the source.

“Isn't that the best way to be?” Came the not-so-innocent response. “Vanilla just gets stale.” One thing was for certain, you knew how to play that game all too well. The tilt of your head exposed the lines of your neck that he'd mentally traced too many times. A slow, torturous glide of the tip of your tongue across your bottom lip drew him in. “Sammy,” Husky and thick, your voice sent the blood in his head rushing south. He didn't dream of stopping your lazy, swinging gait his way. Slowly, your fingertip raised to graze across the blade in his hand. Tracing it as if it were your lover. Your body shifted subtly. Offering up your chest. He didn't do more than glance, too distrustful of your shift. “There's a lot you're going to figure out about me by tonight.”

“A...A...Anything good?” He returned, fighting to not let your innuendos slow him down.

“Good is the farthest thing from what you're about to see.” The low promise nearly made him groan. “You see, Samuel...” Your finger stroked the blade again, letting the metaphoric action settle between you two. “There's a side of me that you can't even begin to imagine...”

“I...I promise you,” He rasped out, his own voice dropping an octave. Chest rising a little rapidly to be normal. The hazel looked deeper under the light of the late morning. “I've got a great imagination.”

“And I promise you,” You let your eyes lock with his again, “it doesn't come close to the real thing.” Your lips curled up as the warm flesh of your fingers slid down the handle. Just barely brushing against the thick skin of Sam's hand as you pulled away. Nostrils flaring, a shuttering breath left the tall hunter. “You'll see.”

“You guys ready?” Dean's voice made you jerk away. Putting distance between you and Sam. The eldest hunter broke through the woods, weapon still in hand. “Looks like they're all out. We do this right? They don't even wake up.”

“Let's go, then.” Your eyes lifted back to the younger Winchester's. Unable to stop the final look over him. “Thanks for the help, Sam.” With that, you twisted back. Heading the way Dean had come from.

“Help?” The older brother turned to Sam. Demanding an explanation with his raised brows.

“Don't ask.” Chest puffed, the taller hunter strode after you. Mentally preparing himself for the hell that was sure to come from you alone with a set of vamps.

“I should...” Dean glanced over to his car. Ensuring she was secure before turning back. Watching two of the strongest people he knew stride ahead of him. “But, something tells me that I'm better off not knowing.”

It didn't take long to find yourselves at the entrance. Vines crawled against old, crumbled, red brick. Graffiti- some fresh, some old- was scattered across every piece that could have been reached. A heavy metal door covered the front.

Your eyes met Dean's. A nod to the right let you know where you'd be. Sam got the left. Dean was taking the middle. Where you were sure that the leader would be. However, you wouldn't fight the decision. It had been too long. Wrestling with Bane didn't compare to fighting a supernatural creature.

Concern flitted across Sam's face when your eyes met his, again. But, he didn't say a word. Simply pulled open the door as quietly as he could. A nod was sent your way for luck as you walked by. One of your own was returned. And then, you were alone.

If there was ever a moment to thank Sam Winchester, it was that one. Your feet were still light. Well tuned from the stealth the pranks had required over the years as you stalked into the emptiness.

If you hadn't known better, you would have thought it was still night. The boarded up windows were few and far in between. Leaving your eyes to adjust to the shadows. Slowly, everything came into focus.

Your fingers gripped tighter against the handle that rested in your palm as you approached the first room. Using every sense you carried to anticipate what you'd run into. 

A light scrape sounded as you stood just outside of the opening. A darker shadow slid across the ground. Dean had been wrong. They weren't all asleep.

A small drop of sweat slid down your brow as you tried to place where the sounds were coming from. Once you had your best guess, you sucked in a silent breath. Your heart beat thudded in your ears. Too loud for a normal vampire to miss.

Your best bet? A human was in the room. Or a newly turned vamp. You didn't know which you preferred. With a final mental pat, you turned in. Blade ready...

Part Seven

Tag: @burningmusicmachine @missmarrinette @sherlockedtash88 @rathersuspiciousbumblebee @sasbb23 @nothinbuttrouble2

Forever: @dean-winchesters-bacon @supernaturalginger

[nilsavatar]

Odette’s Moving Boutique [Crossover MCL - Eldarya - Howl’s Moving Castle] - CastielxNilsa

The H.Q. needed food, reserves were starting to run out and in Eldarya there was no way to support a stable, indigenous agriculture yet. To make up for the shortcomings quickly, Miiko decided to send two of his best collaborators in Our World, the heads of the Shadow Guard, Nevra, and of the Absynthe Guard, Ezarel. But in reality it was just a pretext, the real reason why she had sent them on Earth was to find Valkyon and Leiftan, mysteriously disappeared during the umpteenth refueling mission. However, something will go wrong and the circle of mushrooms will close the transition from one dimension to another sooner than expected. The two, stuck right in that world from which they had escaped long ago, will now have to find a way to go home, and to do so they’ll have to rely on a young apprentice witch and an half-vampire abberrantly against the lineage from which he descends. It won’t be easy at all, but in the Boutique ‘J’ everything is possible, even the impossible.

                                                              1.         IN WHICH NILSA IS HIRED IN A STRANGE SHOP

   As you had always feared, you didn’t last long at the Cozy Bear Cafe. Clémence fired you at the first opportunity, at the first mistake, just to keep you away from her beloved Hyun.    She and her ridiculous jealousy, a symptom of some weird form of mid-life crisis. Jealousy so rooted and blinding that, mixed with the worrying predatory instinct of a MILF, it prevented her from noticing that you’ve never nurtured the slightest interest in the shy, selfless and friendly Korean and that, admitted otherwise, it’s had the side effect of draining her of that minimum of logic sufficient to keep in her mind that, if you wanted to, you’d have all the chances in this world in your favor, to make him fall for you. A thing that, perhaps, has already happened…    The pretext in the specific seems almost a joke, recalling it now to the memory. You were passing through the glass door of the bar with a tray overflowing with glasses and empty cups begging to be put in the dishwasher - damned high school students - but, while you were about to reach Hyun at the counter, a striped red cat darted you between your legs at light speed, making you lose your balance. You fell ruinously to the ground and, with you, the porcelains, which shattered into a thousand pieces all around. You were lucky that, leaving your ego and your butt, you didn’t get hurt.    Clémence, hearing the noise, came out of the kitchen like a madwoman, with her hair gathered in an untidy bun, her apron stained here and there with flour and jam, the sleeves of the close-fitting leopard-print blouse turned up to the elbows, and her arms raised in half air to keep the herself from getting dirty. If possible, she looked even older that way. Older and filthy than she normally was already.    Her hazel eyes, surrounded by heavy make-up, wandered all over the room, from the indifferent cat who was licking itself in a corner, to the fragments of the china scattered on the ground, to Hyun’s hands that helped you to get back on your feet, still messed-up, brushing you away some crumbs.    The complexion of her face gradually changed shades in line with her anger, from a bright pink to a glowing periwinkle, and as one nuance left room for another, her expression became more and more distorted with them. Her irises became fiery, the round, swollen and protruding orbits like those of an oranda telescope, a thousand crow’s feet branched out to the outer corners where the eyelids joined, and the mud-colored lips opened wide in an animalistic grimace.    Her reaction was immediate.    The woman’s screams reached octaves that even a lyric soprano dreamt of, and confused words blew from her vulgar mouth, like a dam smashed by water. Not a single sentence got a complete meaning, such was the haste and fury with which she was passing from one subject to another, until she reached the fateful verdict, expressing a concept that was all too simple and clear as ruthless.    “You’re fired!”.    A heavy silence fell in the room.    Hyun, after a minute of muteness, tried to defend you. In vain.    “Enough, Hyun!”, the cougar raised a hand to the height of her face, “You have already covered her too many times. This time I can’t let it go”.    “But, the cat…”.     “Take off your uniform”, she stoned, “And don’t show yourself again, not even as a customer. You are a disgrace”. With those words she crossed the room, opened the wall closet and took out a broom and a dustpan.    You took off your uniform and your cap, livid face and gritted teeth, and you gave them to the waiter, to your ex-colleague, who took them with a broken expression printed on his face, « I’m sorry … I … I … I tried to… ».    "Don’t worry,“ you interrupted him, "it’s not your fault. Indeed, it’s better this way”.    Leaving the club determined not to set foot in it again, you walked tired and distressed towards the campus. In front of the gate you met a small, thin girl, with platinum bob hair, tinged with candy pink along the tips. She’s all smiling and perky, in sharp contrast to the Gothic style of her clothes. Her smile dissolved as soon as she deciphered the gloominess on your face.    "What happened?”, Chani sked without even saying hello.    "Clémence … I lost my job,“, you sobbed after one, at appearance, infinite pause.    Immediately the girl wrapped you by the shoulders in an embrace - an unusual gesture on her part, constantly trapped by her personal soap bubble -, "Don’t beat yourself down. That crazy bitch doesn’t deserve your tears. ”    You sniffed, raising your eyes to cross those of the girl, highlighted by the black smokey-eye, her face was out of focus through the veil of tears, “What will I do now? My parents pay the university tuition, but the rent of the room is my responsibility. ”    "In this regard, I have the solution,“ she said firmly, "I’m just going to the store where I work now, my boss is looking for another part-time employee.”   “But Chani, I don’t know anything about esotericism, stones and all that stuff.”    Your friend raised a testily eyebrow, she didn’t like the term stuff at all to hear, but for your friendship’s sake she decided to let it go, “I’ll teaching you everything. And in any case the shop owner is an easygoing person, there will be no problem in forming a novice ».    "Are you sure?”.    “Of course!”, she took you by the arm, «If it doesn’t work she won’t take you, but trying doesn’t hurt».   You uttered a last nasal grunt, nodding, “We will never know if I don’t try.”   “This is the spirit!”, she exclaimed, holding out a handkerchief, “Come on, let’s go.”

   After a short walk, you reached the city center, passed by Leigh’s clothing boutique, continued just beyond, and then turned onto a secondary alley. There was nothing apart from the badly off sign of a small shop, hanging perpendicular to the wall by two wrought-iron rods and made of wood panels, carved to form a cadet-blue spiked shield, surrounded by lilies and golden twigs, where, at the center, a pompous peacock-green 'J’ with gold edges gave a beautiful display of itself.    "It’s the initial of the family name,“, Chani said out of the blue, reading from your doubtful expression what you were thinking - or at first you convinced yourself of this -, "But I don’t know which it is. She doesn’t want to reveal it.”   You looked in the eccentric girl direction astonished, “Don’t you know your employer surname?”.   “I only know her first name, Odette, but everyone calls her Madame.”. That said, she pushed the French door open, making the bell ring above it and held it open to let you pass.    What stood before your eyes knew of the incredible. The shop was not particularly big, indeed, it was definitely small, and seemed even smaller due to all the sundries piled up on top of one another almost at random, giving the impression that the room could explode at any moment. Yet, by giving the right attention, you could identify a certain order in the arrangement of the various objects.    To your right, a large bookcase covered the entire wall, overflowing with ancient tomes with colourful leather covers and luxurious captions.    On the left, subdivided on the shelves by colour, there were glass jars with powders and oils inside that looked precious. Some were large, others tiny; some had regular shapes, others bizarre, round or angular, as if the glassmaker master who made them was undecided on how to create them. Under each of them, attached to the wood of the shelves, there were labels, and just below, the counter skirted the entire interior of the shop to the nearest door jamb. It was made of oak, covered with a thick plate of crystal to protect the semi-precious stones exposed inside, also arranged by color and with the respective caption.    On the other side of the furniture, there was the most untidy shelf of all, the one that at first sight gave you the idea that the objects in that palce were placed on a wing and a prayer. In fact, there were ampoules, mirrors, rolls of fabric, quartz pendulums, Middle Eastern chandeliers, goose feathers and inks, baskets, small paints, post-it attached to the bulk, rolled parchments, flowers threaded between who knows how among the various articles who knows how.    That place was a unique contradiction, passing from a manic order to the most disturbing and total chaos. And yet, despite the overpowering sense that all that minute things gave to the lieu, influenced also by the surrounding dim light, the place gave you a pleasant feeling of calm and warmth, and, not to be taken for granted, even that mystical aura typical of a magicians den was palpable, just as you’d expect from an esoteric boutique.    "Madame, I brought a friend. I think she could be a good candidate for part-time job,“, Chani winked at you. You both knew that she had overplayed a bit, you are really clumsy.    You perceisted a movement beyond the counter, then you heard the noise of something heavy that is moved with difficulty by somebody, and in fact, after a few moments, a woman in her late thirties emerged from the innumerable boxes on the floor, she disponed one in particular on the wooden shelf and began to empty its contents.    Her hair was long and curly of a warm and intense coppery red, which surrounded her rosy complexion sprinkled with freckles, highlighting the lemon-yellow irises, fixed on you like those of a feline.   How old was that woman exactly?   Her face was youthful, almost childish, but there was something in her eyes, a wisdom, an awareness of the world that was anything but immature.   "She is Nilsa.”    For a moment it seemed that his pupils flickered at the sound of your name, “Nilsa”.   You stepped forward reaching out, “Nice to meet you, Ma’m”. She looked at your hand but made no move to hold it. Did she want any demonstrations about your attitude before?    Anxious, you started raving, talking in burst like you used to do in moments of panic. How could you not be agitated, you needed that job.   “I don’t have much experience as a saleswoman, I worked mostly as a waitress, but I assured you that I’ll work hard, I learn very quickly …”.    A smug smirk curved her full lips as she brought the fists to her sides, “Do you have the same schedule as Chani in the university?”   Her sudden question left you dumbfounded, “…Yes, leaving aside the elective courses.”   “Very well. Let me know the time slots you are available, so as to organize the rotation of shifts from next week onwards”, the woman turned her back, beginning to arrange the articles on the various shelves,“ At the beginning you’ll be place side by side by me or Chani, and when I think you’re ready I’ll entrust the shop to you.”. She turned abruptly to look at you waiting for something.   “Are you saying I’m hired?”, you asked after a long while, even more dazed than before, “This way? Without a one-day trial? ”   “My intuition tells me you’ll get away with it. Are you free on Saturday afternoon?”, you nodded, “Great, I’ll wait for you at 3 p.m. Be punctual”.   Your eyes lit up like two supernovas, "Thank you! Thank you very much, Madame!”.   The owner looked at the elegant white pearl dial of the watch, "There’s still a quarter of an hour left to the opening, Chani, why don’t you show her the shop?”   The girl smiled politely, “Sure”.

[thiamfresh]

108 and 109

Here ya go, sorry it took so long!

I wanted to write something with this incorrect thiam quote and it got a bit weird?? sorry.

Being homeless wasn’t as bad as Theo expected. It wasn’t nice by any means and Theo knew without his supernatural abilities he’d probably have thrown himself off a bridge by now but with them it was..alright. It wasn’t fun, or pretty, or exciting but he could handle it. He knew enough about the town to know where he could sneak in to shower. His body ran warmer than most people’s would so when he added his thin blanket, the back-seat of his truck and some thick sweatpants to the mix he wasn’t really sleeping cold a lot. His muscles would heal themselves from the cricks most people would get from sleeping in such a cramped space within an hour of him waking up.

The daytime part he could handle, it was easy enough. It was the night that he hated. When the world around him drifted off to sleep and left him alone with his thoughts. When the memories of all the terrible things he’d done would fly back to him and the loneliness would creep in, deep and aching in his chest. But even that he could handle, he’d had a lot of time for thought with the dread doctors. He was used to being left alone with just his mind for company, sure, now he felt guilty for things which was fairly new but he could still swallow that down most of the time.

It was the fact that despite everyone else being able to sleep he wasn’t able to, even when he did manage to escape his thoughts and drift into a peaceful slumber it was short lived because he’d be being forced back into the world of wakefulness before long, whether by nightmares and his own panicked screams, or police officers telling him to move on.

Theo shifted on the seat a groan escaping his lips, tired and pained as he heard a thunk hit against the car window. He drew his hands up to his eyes rubbing the sleep out off them unsure whether he was happy that it was police rather than a nightmare or if he would have preferred if it had been his own fault that he woke up.

“Alright, alri-” Another thump.

“Theo!” Theo’s eyes snapped open at the familiar voice, hands dropping away from his eyes as his brow crinkled in confusion. That definitely wasn’t a police officer.

“Liam?” Theo asked, eyeing the roof the car. Liam’s heartbeat skipped, a small laugh drifting through the night.

“Wherefore art thou? We needeth to speaketh.” Theo’s brow scrunched at Liam’s slurred words. He dug around for his phone, blinking at the time. Why the hell was Liam at his truck at three am? “Theo…Theo.” Liam whispered, The drawn out way he sang it making Theo’s skin crawl.

“What?!” Theo snapped. Not bothering to sit up. He eyed the window as another pebble hit against it. Liam was lucky he was too confused to be angry. “Liam, what the hell do you want?”

“I need to talk to you.” Liam said, more rocks assaulting the window.

“You have a phone for a reason.” Theo drawled, sure, being woken up by the shrill buzz of his phone would have been annoying but probably less so that Liam tossing rocks at his window because he apparently didn’t want to walk the six feet to the car door. Theo blinked as something thunked against his window, louder and heavier than the others. Theo stayed still on the seat for a moment, disbelief rolling through him before he was diving for the window, rolling it down in a quick move and sticking his head out and peering to the ground where Liam’s phone sat, screen cracked.

“Did you just throw your fucking phone at my window?!” Theo hissed. Liam’s eyes pulled away from where he was frowning down at his now broken phone, lifting to meet Theo’s. A wide grin stretched across his face that left Theo blinking. Liam didn’t smile at him like that, not unless they’d just defeated an enemy and his defenses were down enough for him to forget that he didn’t like Theo. Liam finally walked over with lopping steps.

“Theo!” He said happily, the smile growing even wider. Theo’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Right now I’m talking to you.” Liam said,  resting a hand against the roof of Theo’s truck and leaning closer, Theo shifted his head back as Liam loomed. “Duhhh.” Liam’s breath ghosted across his face leaving his nose curling at the harsh smell of alcohol.

“Are you drunk?”

“Obviously.” Liam snorted. “Now let me in-”

“Wha-” Theo didn’t have time to finish the one-word question before Liam was hauling the door open and tossing himself in giving Theo barely enough time to scramble out of the way as he flopped into the back seat next to him with a hiccup.

“How much did you drink?”

“Everything.” Liam hummed. His cheeks rosy as he swung his head round to look at Theo.

“Why?”

“Mason figured out how to get a werewolf drunk.” Liam said. Theo eyed him curiously, his cheeks rosy red and the smile still sweeping across his face in a dazed way. “So, we figured why not…Were you sleeping?” Liam asked, fingers moving to pick at the blanket still pooled on Theo’s lap.

“No.” Theo lied.

“I could hear you snoring.” Liam giggled.

“Then why did you ask?”

“Why did you lie about it?” Liam replied, waggling his eyebrows leaving Theo huffing out a breath, this was getting him nowhere.

“What are you doing here Liam?”

“I followed your scent.” Liam said nonchalantly, like the fact he knew Theo’s scent well enough to track him down in the middle of the night while drunk without anything of his to use as a guide was normal.

“Liam why are you here at three in the morning?”

“No one’s seen you in weeks. You’re never at pack meetings and-”

“I’m not pack.” Theo said, Liam snorted, lips spurting out air in a way that made him sound like a braying horse.

“You’re basically pack.” Liam grumbled petulantly, looking up to Theo like he was the idiot here. “You’re our spike.” He added, the words sounding more like an accusation than anything else.

“Spike?”

“From Buffy” Liam said. “You know. We let you in even though we didn’t really trust you and then you betrayed and so we tried to kill you-” Theo’s lips thinned at the blunt reminder of their history. “But now, now you’re back and you help and you know, at first no one even wanted you there, I mean, why would anyone want you.” Theo looked to the door, wondering how much trouble he’d get in if he shoved Liam out and drove away before he managed to clamor off of the floor.  He could text Scott, tell him his Beta was drunk in the warehouse district.  

“But then you do the thing-” Liam waved a hand as if trying to start a game of charades on what ‘the thing’ was “And you know, Buffy still wants to hate you, because you’re selfish and there’s Riley who’s perfect and they love each other but then she keeps finding herself coming back to Spike who’s trying not to be selfish in a very selfish way and it’s..it’s confusing because Spike is hot you know?”

“Right.” Theo said slowly, eyeing Liam curiously as he continued to rant.

“And then underneath all the fangs and murder you start thinking..this isn’t all spike is, this….this douche bag. You know? I mean, he was a person before it, who’d been forced into this life he was just this gullible little idiot who was told that his life could be better and so he trusted the wrong people and then they warped him and he became a killer because he thought he had to and he was good at it and who doesn’t want to be good at something? So Buffy knows that Spikes the bad choice, that Spike’s screwed up but Spikes trying and Buffy knows that she’s not all innocent and pure and that she’s hurt people too, that she would again for the right reason and Riley never got that part of Buffy. Riley would play into the good part but Spike, Spike knows that Buffy can be a monster too and that doesn’t scare him, hell he likes it but he knows Buffy doesn’t, so he draws her back from the edge-”

“I don’t remember that epi-”

“AND!” Liam said, shushing Theo. “Just..gets that side of her more than anyone else seems to and makes Buffy feel..maybe not normal because she’s never going to get to be normal but you know, makes Buffy feel real and makes Buffy laugh and doesn’t freak out when Buffy just needs a break and turns up drunk to his ‘house’ because everyone’s gone, Riley’s gone and Xander’s busy with Anya. Even Giles is gone and Giles is the whole reason Buffy got into the world of vampires and stuff, he was meant to be there to teach Buffy. And so now Buffy mainly has Spike but Spike’s hiding out in his car in the middle of nowhere like a total loner.” Theo swallowed thickly. Liam’s eyes boring into his as he continued to talk, words spilling past his lips almost too fast for Theo to follow. A part of him was sure he should have tried to stop Liam from talking, to shut him up before he could say anything that would just end up damaging the trust they’d built over the past few months but a bigger part was curious to see where Liam’s rant would end. “And everyone hates Spike but Buffy kinda wishes that they didn’t so Spike could be around more because they might fight but dude fuck can they fight together. I mean once they get going they’re badass you know? And Buffy hates the idea that it’s going to end like it does in the show. With Spike only really able to come around when something bads happening and then he dies before they really get to be happy. Because maybe they’re both a bit broken but once Spike gets his soul back they bring out the best in each other. They need each other and Buffy thinks that they really could be happy together if Spike would just let them-”

“I’m pretty sure I watched a totally different show to you.” Theo joked lightly, finally putting an end to Liam’s tirade.

“You know what I mean.” Liam huffed, lips sticking out in a pretty pout that left Theo praying he was right in what he thought Liam meant.

“I just woke up. Why don’t you spell it out to me.” Theo suggested softly.

“You’re spike!”

“I got that part. It’s the rest that confuses me.” Theo said. Liam’s pout grew. “Because it sounds a hell of a lot like you’re implying something.” He urged. Liam’s cheeks grew redder and Theo knew that this time it wasn’t due to alcohol.

“What would I be implying?” Liam grumbled, ripping a thread from the blanket. Theo batted his hand away before he could do any more damage.

“Liam, Who’s Giles in this analogy?”

“Scott, obviously.”

“And so who are you?” Theo asked. Liam’s eyes skirted away from Theo for the first time in what felt like forever.

“I’m Liam.”

“You know what I-”

“Drop it, Theo.” Liam growled low in his throat.

“You’re the one who started it!” Theo hissed. “If I’m Spike who are you?”

“Shut up.”

“Liam-” The air was knocked out Theo as Liam keeled over sideways, head flopping onto Theo’s chest with a surprising amount of force.

“Liam, get off.”

“Nope.” Liam sighed, heartbeat slowing down as he tried to burrow his face into Theo’s chest.

“Seriously, How much did you drink?”

“Too much.” Liam said proudly. Theo couldn’t help the small smile that fought its way onto his face. “I’m tired.”

“Then you should go and sleep.” Liam nodded against his chest, kicking his legs up onto the seat as he got more comfortable. “That’s definitely not what I meant.” Theo said. “If I push you out of the car will you get lost on your way home?”

“Probably.” The wolf said earnestly. Theo sighed, hands moving to Liam’s arms trying to lever him away, the boy replied by digging his nails into Theo’s side like a cat that didn’t want to be picked up.

“Alright. Get off me and I’ll take you home-”

“Are you hitting on me?” Liam asked softly, heart making a strange flip flopping sound. Theo chose to ignore it.

“Move, so I can drive you back before anyone starts-”

“M good here.” Liam hummed, cutting Theo off. He opened his mouth, ready to argue only for Liam to shush him before he could try. He shut up despite knowing he could quite easily shove Liam out of his car, at this point he was pretty sure most people would. But still, Theo stayed silent, eyes shifting around the car nervously as Liam made himself comfortable, the smell of alcohol still seeping off of him leaving the car smothered in it. The silence was..nice, Liam’s face warm against his chest, his breath puffing warm against Theo’s neck and his heart beat a steady hum that made Theo’s own heart rate sound like someone having a heart attack.

“You should let me drive you home.” Theo tried.

“If you can sleep in your car then I can sleep in your car.” Liam mumbled. “Spike would let Buffy stay.” Theo felt his heart give another embarrassing jolt, his fingers loosening on Liam’s arms, hands slowly moving to settle on his back.

“Is that who you are?” Liam stilled, limbs locked as his breathing stuttered for a moment before he replied.

“What if it is?” Liam’s voice shook as he spoke, Theo felt his top get tighter around his shoulders as Liam’s fingers curled into the fabric.

“Well-” Theo started, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he tried to think of something to say. “I guess I’d be obliged to let you stay.” He felt Liam’s cheek moving against his chest as his lips pulled into a smile. Theo’s fingers trailed in a small circle on Liam’s back as the beta slowly relaxed against him again. Theo wondered how this became his life.

[iammultifandomaf]

Chapter 24 - Fragile

BROTHERHOOD

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/12211562/24/

Credence didn't remember a time when Stolos was so docile around somebody. Even though, he knew a few people he cared about.

Yes, even despite Stolos' and Michendros' hobby to be reborn from time to time in a random family. Sometimes, he was jealous of it. He couldn't do it. He was a vampire.

But no, never was he so tamed by a person like this by redhead. Or was it the humanity getting to him?

Could be.

It was already dark outside when they reached a door where Stiles knew the code to get in.

Stubbornly, he limped to the building himself, enduring the pain. Tsk, I could have helped him, Credence thought.

To Credence's surprise, none of the girls tried to escape.

It wouldn't be an idiotic attempt. Some people are around. They may have a chance.

But from the looks of it, this girl of Stolos' was still a bit angry at her friend as well. He could smell it of off her. And all the quick changes in expression when she looked at the brunette. It was there, alright.

They all walked in silence.

Credence was still in shock to see Stolos in this state. A disgraceful sight. He had never seen him weakened like this. So fragile. Everything he thought before, Stolos abandoning him, the disappointment he felt, the sadness. All of it gone. All of the questions answered. The only person he had a bond with was compromised in this unthinkable way.

I suppose I'll get a phone now, Credence thought.

The peculiar group used the lift to get to the last floor and then went to the door 091.

Again, Stolos typed in a combination of numbers which let them inside.

Credence went in last, shuting the door behind him. The girls stood awkwardly to his right and observed Stolos who was staring at a bookshelf. Then he looked at Credence and said: "Could you please get the thin notebook? It's the fifth shelf, seventh from the left."

He did as he asked. The notebook was a bit worn down and had no description. The vampire handed it to Stolos who swiftly run it through.

"These are some notes on blood magic, but the descriptions are in our native language," he said to Credence who listened carefully.

"Look here," Stolos said and showed him a page filled with text and drawings, "if you don't mind, I'd like you to fix me up before anything else."

"Of course," Credence agreed.

"Ladies, you don't have to stand around, just have a seat," Stolos said without looking at them. They exchanged looks and quietly sat down on the chairs around the dining table.

"Now, for you, you'll need at least five small spoons of my blood."

"Spoons? What's that for a measuring system?"

"I don't know, I guess Michendros was feeling like joking when he wrote this. But I know these work."

"That's a lot of blood, Stolos, where am I to put it?"

"Hm," he looked at the description once again, "let's do it at the table," he nodded to the dining table where the girls kept their silence. "It's out of glass, so I guess we can stain it a bit."

Lydia and Allison stared at the two studying the notebook, again, in silence. Only Lydia gasped when Stolos took a sharp knife and began cutting his palm.

Stolos didn't even hiss nor squinted his eyes in pain.

That's the man I know, Credence thought. It took a minute or two for the blood to gather itself in the glass which Credence has prepared.

"Okay, now, repeat these," Stolos said and nodded to a line of words in the book.

Credence read the words in his mind first to deliver the pronunciation perfectly later. And so he did.

A few other words, then. Done.

Credence handed the glass to Stolos who drunk it without hesitation.

Crack. His nose came to its original place as well as his other injuries. The redhead stared at it with wide eyes, meanwhile Allison just gulped and turned her gaze elsewhere.

Maybe she envies the magic. Even a bloody vampire can create some. And she can't, he thought.

So, he can use blood magic. Terrific. It doesn't even matter Stiles can't do anything. The vampire is capable enough, she thought.

Stiles stood up and tested his leg.

"Perfect," he said, apparently praising the other man whose reaction was a small smile.

Haven't seen him smile like that before. Not this genuinely.

Allison looked at Lydia whose eyes followed Stiles who just returned the notebook to its shelf.

"Let's get started then," Stiles said and looked directly at Allison who turned her eyes to the vampire who was just cleaning the table with a dark brown cloth.

Tidy, for an animal...

Hey, wait," Lydia suddenly said, "what do you wanna do?"

Stiles walked over to the table again, standing close where Lydia sat. She didn't break her stare which Allison admired.

She's brave. For now, Allison thought.

"Just to ask her something, Lyds," he said with a smile and put his palms on the table to lean on.

The vampire sat down directly in front of Allison which made her a bit nervous.

"You want some water, ladies?" Stiles asked as if they were on a friendly visit.

"Um, I'd actually appreciate it. Haven't had any since the kidnapping," Lydia said and shot a glare to Allison who sank a little more in her seat.

Stiles poured water into three glasses which he put in front of Lydia, Allison and himself.

"You had enough refreshments for today, am I right?" Stiles said without looking at his friend who just smirked at the comment.

"Allison, one question which I wanted to ask as first. Do you trust Tommy?"

Allison was a bit taken aback with this query. She did not answer, though, nor did she look at him.

She did sense his stare which was piercing her through like daggers.

"Is he the only one in the coven?" Stiles proceeded as if he had gotten his answer from her already.

Even Lydia was surprised.

Credence just looked at the three as is he was watching an entertaining show.

Allison tried to make her face expresionless, looking down at her hands but she felt that her cheeks were blushing.

Stiles picked up his glass and walked over to sit next to Allison now. He drew his chair close to her and set his elbows onto the glass table.

"Hey, I think he's really trying to convince them that you are worth it. Probably right at this moment. You were the reason they got my brother in the end. So, why are you so worried about it?"

"I am not worried about anything!" Allison caught herself bursting out on him which made the vampire grin.

"Stop trying to psychoanalyze me. You know nothing about me."

"Their coven are obsessed by the hatred for us, you know, Lyds," Stiles looked at his now-ex whose eyes confusingly jumped from Allison to Stiles and back.

"And I get it. We made them angry a long time ago. Or maybe it was just me. Mich was just around."

"What did you do?" Lydia asked without a breath.

"Yeah, spoiler alert, I am not the good guy in the story. I'm the good guy in barely any story, to be honest," he said with a shrug.

"You were the good guy in my story," Lydia said quietly, almost sounding sad.

"That's just the few," he said, also with a lower voice and glanced at Credence.

Lydia’s curiosity spiked at Stiles' look given to Credence.

What's their story?

So, what did you do to her family?" Lydia asked.

"Um, not sure if it was exactly her family. Her coven consists of more families. Of course, it is possible that since then, they all merged into one big family. I never cared enough to look this information up. Maybe Mich would know, he's a bit of a bookworm," he stopped and looked at Allison as if he was expecting to add up the details he didn't know. She was silent, though. Avoiding his gaze at all times.

"Yeah, well, I think it could've been the time before Japan. Not sure. Everything gets melted together somehow–"

"Wait, wait," Lydia said, "when were you born? For real?"

"The year 82," he answered.

"What like... 1982? 1882?"

"No, just 82."

"No way."

Even Allison's eyes widened in disbelief.

Guess her family doesn't know much about them either.

"Yeah, in the year 102... everything changed for us. Mich is 7 years older than me. So, it was sometimes infuriating having a body of a 19-year-old all the time," he laughed a bit, lost in memories.

"But you don't look like 19," Lydia commented.

"Well, I've been human for six years now. So, my body aged, I'd hope."

"This is so weird."

"I suppose so.”

"Hm, so what did you do to them?" Lydia asked once again.

"He slaughtered a whole family. The most powerful one," Allison suddenly said bitterly.

Lydia looked at Allison in shock and then turned her eyes to Stiles who was watching Allison.

"Is it true?" Lydia asked.

"Hm, it would seem that they did teach you something in your coven-revenge-school," Stiles said, scanning Allison up and down.

"How are you able to joke about that?" Lydia asked in awe.

"I wasn't trying to. I'm just surprised that even though, they don't care for her, they cared enough to make her dependant on them and they infected her with the same hatred for us even though she doesn't have to do anything to do with it."

"How can you say so! You don't know my family!" Allison cried out, her eyes glassy.

"Well, if I may say something, during the six years I was locked up there and was considered dead, I've heard your auntie talk a lot of rubbish about you," Credence said. Not in a mocking way. No. Just informing her causaly.

"That's not true, you are not going to make me talk with telling me all these lies," she said, her voice cracking a bit.

"Poor girl, a bit pathethic, but still," Credence returned to his attitude he had before.

"You know, Allison. I will get my brother back. One way or the other. It's hard to get rid of us."

"That's not true, Thomas took care of it. Your brother is gone."

Lydia was put back into reality with this sentence. They really did kill John, then.

Stiles smiled at her and leaned closer to her.

"And are you so sure about that?" he asked, sounding like a vicious snake. This made Lydia freeze at the spot as well as Allison.

I guess he really isn't trying to hide anything now.

"Of course, I am. Thomas is an excellent magician," Allison said but her confident words were betrayed by her shaking voice.

"I must say, the coven you are somehow part of did really try to collect all the intel on us. Don't worry. We know. We made a lot of up too, so you'd get busy. More scared. But one thing we didn't share that much to your people. You would give up, then. That would be no fun," he said slowly, apparently enjoying every of Allison's expressions which were losing previous stubborness and defiance.

"Both me and Michendros had gained the status of a deity during all these years. He as a Slavic slash Scandinavian one. They used to call him Myestas. And me, Japanese, despite my appearances, I know, I know. The Japanese called me Susanoo or Susanowo."

Both Lydia and Allison looked at him in disbelief. Allison's face went white and blank.

What does this mean for her? And... what do I do now?

So, what I wanted to say with that... I don't think Mich will be so easy to kill."

"But– how come you're human, then?" Lydia asked, trying to use some sort of logic on the matter.

"Hmm, that was the Gomernot clan. Another family I angried, I think. They found a way how to put a curse on us. Still didn't kill us, though."

Allison's eyes sparkled a bit at the mention of the clan's name.

"Happen to know them, honey?" Credence was the first to ask.

"M-No," she said.

"Everything is so nicely connected, then. It wouldn't be by any chance be your family, would it? Are you part of the Gomernots, Allison?" Stiles said, looking at her with interest.

Allison stayed quiet but even Lydia understood.

"I must admit, your blood is like an annoying cockroach. But a very persistent one. I can't recall anyone who would be so troublesome for us."

"Could you not talk to her like that?" Lydia said strictly.

"Like what?" Stiles asked innocently.

"Like she's the last piece of garbage," Lydia said, getting creepy vibes from Stiles which made her feel like she should keep her distance.

He isn't anything I thought he is, is he?

"That surely wasn't intended. But I do apologize if I struck some nerves," Stiles looked at Allison who just sat there, broken.

"Credence, we should get Tommy to join us. He'll know more about Michendros' location."

"Hm, I'll get to it. Just after I do some reading, alright?"

[magically-strange]

Costumed Craving...

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

Bog gaped in shock at the docile woman before him.  His brain was buzzing like stirred bees, struggling to make sense of her words.

“What are ye talkin’ about?!”  He managed to say in a strained voice.  He’d never told her about his...ailments.  He hated telling people about his troubles.

“Come on, Bog, you’re not stupid.”  Marianne replied, shifting forward in her seat.  “Surely you have some suspicions about me by now?”

The way she was watching him made Bog feel like a buck before the gun.  She wasn’t fucking around.  He didn’t want to believe it.  He couldn’t believe it.  But this was no dream.  

This was a nightmare in the waking world.  Every strange situation and insane doubt in his head that he’d been suppressing since they’d met came thrashing to the surface.

No.  

No, not you.  

NOT YOU!!!

Shooting up from the couch, Bog backed away from the brunette as if she were a bomb.

“No…no, that’s not possible.”

“I’m sorry, Bog, but you’re wrong.”

Slowly, Marianne rose to her feet as well, and steadily advanced on the trembling man, her unsettlingly placid demeanor making his pulse rate skyrocket.    

“It’s not just possible, it’s real.”

Choked by the sudden terror of every horror movie he’d ever seen coming true, Bog spun on his heel and flew at the door, only to find it locked.

“Bog.”  Marianne said calmly as his shaking fingers repeatedly slipped on the dead bolt.  

Once he clumsily managed to turn it, he almost let out a cry of dismay at the door’s stubborn refusal to open.

Fucking privacy knob!

Frantic, he yanked on the handle, savagely rattling the wood.

“Bog, don’t do that.”

She was getting closer!

One last panicked jerk, and the frame splintered, freeing the damn latch and twisting the top hinges from the wall.  The evidence of his inhuman strength only spiked Bog’s fear as he rushed past the ruined door and down the stairs.  

“Bog, wait!”

Refusing to listen, Bog bolted across the dark, empty gym, still managing to see a clear path despite the deep shadows.  He saw his chance of escape in a single door beyond the sparring ring.  

“Bog!”

Marianne’s footsteps followed steadily behind him, as he reached the unfortunately locked door, only to realize with sharp alarm that unlike the previous, this one was metal…and with two an interior key locks.

SHIT!

“Bog?”

There was no more time to run, so Bog helplessly battered the unyielding door with his fists, barely managing to leave a pair of dents before he heard Marianne approach him from behind.

“Bog, I just-!”

In a desperate move, Bog noticed a coat rack beside him, and seized his makeshift weapon.

“Get back!”  He shouted, pointing the tip of a large umbrella at Marianne’s neck.  “Stay the fuck away from me!   I mean it!”

For several, silent beats, Marianne just stood stock still with a look of surprise and even hurt in her eyes…

…until she gave Bog the most furious scowl he’d ever seen.

In the breath of a second, she side-stepped him, snatched the end of the umbrella, and pulled hard, causing Bog to stumble forward and lose his grip on the handle.  It clattered to the floor as Marianne then grabbed him by the back of the neck and his right arm.  With unimaginable strength, she marched him away from the door like an angry mother would an unruly child, and when they reached the ring, she suddenly released his neck, swept her left hand under his chest, and shoved upwards, hurling him into the air.

Bog’s six foot seven, two-hundred-and-twenty-pound body flipped clear over the raised platform and ropes.  He landed flat on his back in the ring, sprawled and dazed, but unharmed, save for the wind knocked out of his lungs.

Marianne then came somersaulting after him like Catwoman.  Her feet slammed down on either side of Bog’s head, freezing him in place as she squatted to snarl in his face:

“Listen here, jackass! If I wanted to hurt you, I coulda snapped you like the overgrown twig you are weeks ago!  But I didn’t! So, obviously I don’t wanna hurt you, and I’m not going to!  Now you get a hold of yourself, goddammit!  You hear me?!”

Funny, most people would’ve likely shit their pants after getting such an explosive reaction from a person they perceived as a threat…

…but Bog, oddly enough…

…had the opposite reaction.  He was still afraid, alright; but the passive and contrite Marianne freaked him out, because it was so unlike her, and it scared him more so.  Yet, the shouty, boxing trainer with that don’t-take-crap-from-anyone attitude and backbone of tempered steel?  Now that was familiar.  That was his Tough Girl; the woman he fell in love with.    

“I-I-I hear ye.”

“Good.”  

Moving off of him, Marianne stomped away to sit cross-legged in the center of the ring, resting her elbows on her knees with a pensive frown.  Carefully, Bog sat up and focused on calming himself.

She was right; she hadn’t hurt him.  Yes, she was upset, but she was still the Marianne he knew; she’d proven that, by God.  

He could at least hear her out.  

“…”

“…”

“Overgrown twig?”

“Oh, don’t act like it’s not fitting.”  She returned with a pointed glace, veiled with dry humor.  “You’re gonna pay for a new office door, you know.”

Bog drew up his legs and crossed his arms over them.  

“Not ‘til ye tell me the whole truth first, I worn’t.  Start talkin’.”

Marianne started at Bog for a moment, twisting her lips in consideration before sighing and giving her attention to the restless fingers in her lap.

“Why don’t you ask me…specific questions instead, and I’ll try to answer them as best I can.  I think if I try to explain everything in one go, it’ll just stress you out even more.”

Bog swallowed, but pressed on.

“Fine, who are ye?”

“Marianne Springwood.”

He huffed in exasperation at her sass.

“What are ye?”

“…It……depends on what culture or time period you’re referencing, but…basically, I’m……I’m part of a race of…superhuman beings that……feed off of mankind.”

“So, yer what? A…s-some kinda v-v-va-vampire?”

Marianne rolled her eyes with a breathy snicker.

“Not in the way you’re probably thinking.  All that Bram Stoker, garlic, crucifix, ‘I vant to suck your blahd’, Hollywood crap.  We may have inspired all that, but fact is still very different from fiction.”

“How so?”

“Bog, how familiar are you with Jewish mythology?”

Bog blinked in brief confusion.

“Um…well, I was raised Catholic, but my mom’s non-practicin’.”

“Ever heard of the demon, Lilith?”

“…Vaguely.”  Bog said before tensing.  “Are ye sayin’ yer a-?!”  

“No.  Trust me, if I were, you’d be dead.  We’re generally known as Lilin, or, the children of Lilith, but many of us don’t appreciate the whole ‘demon association’ thing if it’s not meant as a joke.”

“Does that mean yer not evil?”

Marianne winced, but covered it by giving Bog a sultry grin.

“Well, I, personally, can be very naughty, as you know….”

Gulping, Bog squirmed to readjust his position, suddenly feeling extra vulnerable in his boxers as Marianne went on in a more serious tone.

“…but we’re sentient beings with free will, Bog.  We can strive to be good, or we can choose to be evil.  We have the same emotions you humans do, and it’s up to the individual on how to use them.”

Nodding in hesitant understanding, Bog took a minute to absorb the information thus far.

“Lilin.” He whispered to himself, testing the word like a new flavor.

“Yes,” Marianne continued, “but there’s an even more common term.  My sister and I prefer to be called ‘succubus’.”

Bog’s mouth fell open.

“Yer sister?”

“That’s right.  And Sunny and my dad are ‘incubus’, since they’re males.”

The thirty-one-year-old sound editor could hardly believe what he was hearing.  Her whole family?  Even Dawn? That bubbly, blonde Barbie doll he’d met the other week?  They were all…?

“Succubus an’ incubus. Aren’t those the things that are supposed to come into yer room at night an’ have…s-s-sex with ye?”

It was Marianne’s turn to be embarrassed.  Awkwardly, she scratched behind her ear.

“Erm…yes and no.  We don’t have to do that; sex, or more specifically, kissing, just gives us the best opportunity to feed, but it’s not essential.  For those of us that are born Lilin, the craving doesn’t appear until puberty, so it’s nice to have an alternative to a bunch of promiscuous preteens running around, you know?  Even we frown upon underage, unprotected sex. But we’re masters of stealth, so we can usually just sneak in at night, take what we need, and that’s it.”

Regardless, Bog looked queasy.

“W-when ye said ye fee-feed off mankind…”

“Don’t worry, Bog.   Lilin live off human energy, not blood.”

“How is that better?”

“It’s less messy, for one.  And it’s safer for our prey, ‘cause it only takes two or three draws to satisfy us.”

“Draws?”

“We…steal their breath, in a sense; inhale the energy into ourselves from their mouths.  That’s how we feed.  If we take exactly what we need, the human just falls or stays asleep.”

“An’ if ye take more than exactly what ye need?”

Marianne paused, and the room seemed to drop ten degrees.  Her expression darkened with gloom, but Bog’s anxious eyes held her fast until she stammered a skirting response.

“I-it’s not like the books and movies, Bog.  You don’t lo-lose control like it’s an undeniable urge or anything.”

“Answer the question.”

“There are no a-accidents. If a Lilin draws more, th-then they mean to do-”

“MARIANNE!”  

The echo of Bog’s frustrated demand bounced off the walls of the gym, and Marianne cringed, but confessed.

“Then…they can lose consciousness…”

“…”

“…slip into a coma…”

“…”

”...and die.”  

.

.

.

Bog’s spine was overrun with chills and his throat was sandpaper, but he had to know.  Setting his jaw, he spoke again in a quiet, but firm tone.

“Have you ever killed anyone?”

[buffster]

The Initiative (BTVS 4.07)

This is part of my ongoing Buffyverse Project, where I write notes/meta for every episode in an attempt to better understand the characters and themes of the shows. You can find the BTVS list here and the ATS list here. Gifs are not mine.

The Initiative isn’t that interesting at first glance, but it sets up several different storylines: Buffy and Riley as a couple, Willow’s depression, Spike’s escape, and our first peek of the Initiative and how it operates. 

Riley, Graham, and Forrest are sitting in the cafeteria discussing hot girls when Buffy walks in. I love getting to see Buffy from an outsider’s perspective. When we’re watching her slay it’s so easy to see her as this effortlessly cool person. But as she spills soda and breaks the yogurt machine we see she’s far from it to most of the world. It reminds us that she’s still an outsider and someone we can identify with. Forrest and Graham notice how hot she is but Riley think she’s peculiar (I wish this was their ship name). 

Xander and Giles are spending a lot of time together as the two that feel lost now that Buffy’s moved on to college. When Buffy decides to take Willow to a party instead of patrolling they decide to go instead. Xander has several military weapons but is slowly forgetting the things he learned in Halloween. I’m glad–his plot-ready military knowledge was becoming tired. 

We get our first glimpse of what happened to Spike. He’s in a white cell and when he touches the glass he gets shocked. Later a blood bag drops from the ceiling, which he eagerly reaches for, but a neighboring cell mate tells him it’s drugged and they’ll do experiments on him. It’s Tom, the vampire they got in The Freshman. Since all he remembers is facing the slayer, both decide she must be behind this. Spike is enraged. 

Spike: I always wondered what would happen when that bitch got some funding. 

I am always here for Buffy sass. This episode it’s directed at Maggie Walsh, which is even better since she seems to intimidate everyone. Willow tells Maggie that Oz will be back after they leave him out of roll call, but Maggie says she has to think of the whole class and it would be best if he not come back. Willow walks away devastated. 

Buffy: You know, for someone who teaches human behavior? You might try showing some. 

Professor Walsh: It’s not my job to coddle my students.

Buffy: That’s right. A human being in pain has nothing to do with your job. 

Professor Walsh: I like her. 

Riley: Really? You don’t think she’s a little peculiar? 

I loved this moment as well because we saw Buffy cower before a professor in the start of the season despite his cruelty. But Buffy is always strongest when defending others.

Just when I thought (hoped) we’d seen the last of Parker Abrams, he walks up to tell Forrest, Graham, and Riley about his experience with Buffy. He says it was great (she has stamina) but she was too clingy. When he makes a crude joke comparing her to a toilet seat Riley punches him. Which…finally!

Riley: I just didn’t like hearing him talk that way about Buffy. I think I … well I guess I like her.

Forrest: You’re kind of like a moron.

Riley: So you knew that I had feelings for her.

Graham: Everybody knows, man…

Forrest: 'Oh, she’s peculiar…’ Dead giveaway, Buddy! –She’s strange, she bothers me…’

Look, I get that Riley’s story isn’t exactly revolutionary. He’s a guy that always applies himself and “gets it done” but he’s suddenly thrown by a girl. He’s a soldier. He’s about as Joe Regular as we’re going to get in the Buffyverse. But I just kind of enjoyed him. He was a breath of fresh air, you know? I needed the break that was Riley between the Angel and Spike drama. 

Riley goes to see Willow but quickly realizes she’s going through something. She asks if he’s planning to fall in love and get his heart broken. It’s a dramatic moment that’s immediately broken by Riley quipping, “Yep. That’s the plan.” and Willow calmly responding, “I figured it was.” Buffy almost always levies the heavy with the light, which is what works so well about it. 

One of my favorite things about season four is the Buffy/Willow friendship. Willow analyzes Buffy’s attire and declares to Riley that she’ll mostly be dancing and heavy conversation is out of the question. Trouble is, Riley can’t dance. 

Willow: If you hurt her I’ll beat you to death with a shovel. 

Riley: *stares*

Willow: A vague disclaimer is nobody’s friend.

Spike manages to escape the compound after throwing Tom into a group of guards. The writers really dropped the ball in his relationship with Harmony. Buffy is a show centered around supernatural metaphors, and yet they completely missed the domestic/emotional abuse metaphor in Spike/Harmony and played it for laughs. She tries to be tough with him when he returns, but when he says he missed her she immediately melts. He makes a few promises but soon leads right into his obsession with Buffy again. Harmony takes some of his things to burn in frustration, which is when she meets Xander and they have their slap fight/hair pulling contest. Doesn’t she have super strength? I mean, don’t get me wrong, the fight was funny. But I’m not sure it logistically makes sense that she couldn’t overpower him. Maybe she just wasn’t really in the mood.

Riley, Graham, and Forrest enter a secret elevator and go down to the Initiative. Maggie informs them of Hostile Seventeen’s escape and Riley is put in charge. When they spot Buffy, Forrest suggests using her as bait. Riley denies him and pulls rank, which throws Forrest in such a way we know he hasn’t done that before. Buffy is shaking up more than just Riley’s world. 

I loved the scene where Buffy and Riley are each trying to make the other go away so they can find Hostile Seventeen/Spike. Both are acting insanely weird but the other is so focused on their mission they don’t notice. Riley agrees with Buffy’s comment that boys can take care of themselves and girls need help, which is our first glimpse of some potential issues down the road. Riley has been raised with certain gender ideas that Buffy has come to smash to pieces (in fairness to Riley, Buffy doesn’t exactly appear to be packing the muscle to defeat a vampire).

Spike arrives in Buffy’s dorm to find Willow. He attempts to bite her but his head explodes in pain. Buffy would have been disgusted at the pathetic creature Spike is, but of course Willow takes it personally and as a sex metaphor.

Willow: You came looking for Buffy, then settled. You didn’t want to bite me, I just happened to be around.

Spike: Don’t be ridiculous. Why, I’d bite you in a heartbeat.

Willow: Really?

Spike: Thought about it.

Willow: When?

Spike: Remember last year? You had on that fuzzy pink number with the lilac underneath…

I wonder why we didn’t get more of Spike and Willow. This is the second such conversation where they sort of understand each other. Riley, Forrest, and Graham come into the building and lock it down. Buffy arrives just in time and they all fight without seeing who the other is. Spike escapes and Riley aborts the mission. In his report Riley concludes Hostile Seventeen has an accomplice–someone or something big. 

Riley has the courage to talk to Buffy again, and this time she calls him peculiar, which he takes as a good sign. 

Character Notes:

Rupert Giles: Like Cordelia, Giles can draw. This is all a little too convenient. 

Spike: There’s another subtle hint to Spike’s growing feelings for Buffy–after declaring his feelings for her, Riley says he’s “going to see a girl”. We then cut to Spike, who says the same thing. He likes the Sex Pistols. He’s known as Hostile Seventeen.  He says he is one hundred and twenty six years old. 

Riley Finn: Did we really need to throw Riley’s characterization over the top by having him use the term “court” when talking about Buffy? Jeesh. His number is 75329. 

Willow Rosenberg: A Dingoes Ate My Baby song plays at the party and throws her. Riley gets it turned off. 

Xander Harris: Xander calls Riley a teutonic boy toy. He still seems slightly upset at the idea of Buffy being with a boy.

[whatdoyouthinkmyjobis]

Hunters on the Hellmouth

masterlist

first chapter

previous chapter

AN: Inspired by events in BTVS 7.17 “Lies My Parents Told Me.”  Links to character sheets at the bottom of the story.

Chapter 33: New Man

Spike’s heart pounded against his ribs, begging for a break. His lungs burned, each breath large and deep, like he was trying to inhale oceans. He ran until sweat dripped into his eyes. He wiped his forehead and stared at his fingertips glistening in the sunlight.

Having run from the house in a t-shirt, the cool winter air nipped at his damp skin until goosebumps peppered his arms. He was still on the outskirts of town surrounded by houses and one mission-style Catholic church.

It clearly not being a day for bursting into flames, Spike entered the church and found two old women praying at the altar. He couldn’t smell them over the incense. Usually, old women reeked of creams, ointments, and god-awful perfume. The stench was part of why vampires avoided the elderly.

He stole a seat in the back at stared at the twisted body hanging at the front of the sanctuary. Like any good Victorian Londoner, Spike had been raised in the church, Anglican specifically, but the idea of God escaped him. Why would anyone, let alone the son of God, sacrifice themselves for him? Who believed he merited a second chance?

An elderly priest leaned into his pew. “Can I help you, my son?”

“Yeah, thought I’d start the new year off right with God, but I seem to ‘ave forgotten my prayer beads.”

The priest smiled at him. “You may borrow mine.” He pulled his rosary, a simple design of dark wood with a brass cross, from his pocket, and dropped it in the vampire’s hands.

The vampire did not burn.

All Dean could understand from the girls screaming at each other was that someone’s something had gone missing. Buffy and Willow were doing their best to calm the situation when he and Sam decided to seek out the quiet of the still-wrecked Impala parked in Buffy’s driveway.

“Maybe it was a mistake not telling them about Lucifer,” Dean said, bunching up a blanket to use as a pillow.

“Trust me, Lucifer isn’t comforting news. Besides, I think they’re still riding the high of burning those Bringers; plus, most of them are starting a new school Monday. Probably shouldn't add to the emotional cocktail.” 

“Are you done touching the feelings?”

Sam shrugged. “I just remember what it was like to be a teenager-by-day, monster-fighter-by-night. Add to that, they’re far from home, have cultural barriers, and are all pretty new to this. They’re not going to be insta-buddies. Besides, it’s not like we didn’t have stupid fights when we were kids.”

“We’d have had fewer fights if you weren’t so stubborn.” A light rain began to patter on the car. The clouds gave the sunset an eerie glow.

Sam tapped the front bench seat, staring at his fingers like they were giving him a message in Morse Code. “I’ve been doing some research.”

“Water is wet.” Dean’s joking did nothing to ease the anxiety on his brother’s face.

“According to Slayer lore--”

“Here we go.”

“--the first Slayer was created by combining the ‘heart of a demon’ whatever that means, with some teenage girl. Good news is, nothing happened to Buffy when we did the exorcism so--” 

“The fuck?” Dean shot up, ignoring his sore body while his blood boiled. “No. You do not just move on from that statement. Were you fucking experimenting on my girlfriend because you thought she was fucking possessed?”

“I didn’t think she was possessed, but that’s what the lore says,” Sam said, innocently. “If I thought she was dangerous, I would have told you.”

Dean knew the look on his brother’s face, and knew he wasn’t sorry one bit. He tamped down the desire to sock Sam in the jaw. “Don’t fucking put on that innocent puppy face with me! What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I was thinking she’s a vessel, too, and I wanted to know what ‘heart of a demon’ meant because clearly it’s not literal demonic possession.”

“Fuck no it’s not!”

“God, take a breath, Dean. You’re turning purple.”

“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down!” he yelled. “For once in my life, I feel like I have a fucking life. There is this amazing woman who actually gives a rat’s ass about me for more than one night -- hell, she loves me for christssake -- and you’re pokin’ at her to find out what makes her tick?”

“I didn’t want to tell you because, crazy idea, I thought you’d lose your shit,” Sam snapped.

Dean’s ribs reminded him they were still healing as he tried to take deep breaths. “You have no right.”

Scratching his head, Sam sighed. “Dean, how many comic books have you read? How many horror movies have you seen? Whatever the Slayer is, there’s an origin story, but it’s not the story that’s in the lore. I just want to know why there’s a monster-fighting superhero here, but not at home.”

They glared at each other, jaws clenched, nostrils flaring, for a minute before Sam asked, “Do you want to know what I’ve found?’

Dean didn’t, but he did. He leaned back against the seat and tried to relax.

“Remember how I was looking into possession? It looks like there are only a few types of people who can be possessed -- Slayers, vampires, and witches -- and each has special conditions under which it can happen. We know when someone gets bitten by a vamp, they lose their soul and the demon takes their corpse for a ride. Given what we just did to Spike, that one pans out. But the lore says the Slayer is also possessed by a demon, and that just doesn’t hold --”

There was a knock on the window before Buffy opened the door and climbed in the seat with Dean. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything. I’m super jealous of the calm in here.” Damp from the drizzle, she nestled against her boyfriend.

Dean was happy to be holding her no matter what his brother thought. He kissed the top of her head, eliciting a contented sigh.

“Should I leave you two alone?” Sam asked.

“Shut up,” said Buffy. “Today’s been weird, okay?”

“Girls okay?”

“Okay-ish? No one’s talking to Lili, but I’m too worried about Spike to care.”

After being freed from the demon parasite that had been riding him for over a century, Spike had run out into the daylight and disappeared. At first, Buffy had been practically giddy. They had taken something from the darkness, but as the day wore on and Spike did not return, she poured her nervous energy into scrubbing the entire house from top to bottom and snapping at anyone who came near. It was like waiting to hear news from the surgeon. Someone had been opened up, but was the operation successful?

“I’m sure the poofy’s fine. He’s probably sulking in a mausoleum somewhere.”

“Or he’s being tortured by Lucifer again,” she said.

“Is he even still a vampire?” asked Sam. “I’m not sure the vampire and the demon are separate here.”

Dean glared at his brother. Not that he shared Buffy’s concern, but the last thing he wanted to do was compound her worries.

She drew little patterns on Dean’s chest with her fingertips, a habit when she was mulling an idea over. “If Spike is okay, if the exorcism managed to get rid of the demon and save the man, I was wondering if we could head to Los Angeles after all this Lucifer stuff is over and maybe --”

“I guess we could ask him,” Sam said, pointing to the end of the driveway where a pale figure paced back and forth in the rain.

They got out of the car as Spike walked by, shivering in his t-shirt. “Got a bloody clown car going?”

“Where have you been?” Buffy asked.

“Around.” He shuffled his feet and bounced, trying to get warm. “Can go all sorts of places in the daylight now.”

Dean tossed him a blanket from the backseat. “You can probably catch cold too. Let’s head in. It’s dinner time.”

The next day, Sam straddled a chair across from Buffy’s desk as they listened to the gaggle of girls on the other side of the cubicle wall. The school’s bewildered guidance counselor was trying to organize the flood of unexpected transfers whose papers Dean had faked.

I can’t believe this is working! Buffy mouthed. Having all but six of them in school all day was a relief.

“I wish we were in the same classes,” Cloé complained in Spanish.

“Chiquita, we’re two grades apart,” Gabi laughed.

“Why couldn’t they lie about that too?”

“It’s only seven hours, and look, we have the same lunch and study hall. Ooh, we have Sam for study hall. He’s cute.”

“Ew, he’s old,” protested Cloé.

Sam pretended he hadn’t heard them and asked Buffy, “Ready to jump back into ‘My parents don’t get me’ and ‘My teachers are so mean?’”

“God yes!” She twirled a pencil in her fingers. “You do remember how unvacationy vacation was, right?”

Sam patted the angry scars that ran across his abs. “I have my holiday souvenirs. Can’t wait for spring break.”

Being back at school was surreal. Sam was about to dive back into nearly eight hours a day helping teenagers and teachers with research, organizing the books, and updating files. Yet his Clark Kent hours bore a sickly green edge today. Caring about the state of the biography section seemed pointless when Lucifer was out of his cage and lurking near the school.

Killing the Turok-Han and a handful of Bringers had been spitting in Lucifer’s eye. Disarming his vampire sleeper agent was stomping the Devil’s toe. Any moment, he could send something new their way -- tormenting visions of the dead, an army of vampires, drunk clowns with knives. Different world. Different rules.

Just then, an unsmiling Principal Wood showed up, eyeing them with suspicion. “Glad to see you’re all up and at ‘em after your accident.”

“Couple of regular Christmas miracles,” said Buffy with a nervous smile.

Wood nodded before turning to Sam, all friendliness gone from his face. “Mr. Winchester, I was hoping to catch you before the bell. Would you mind stepping into my office?”

They walked through the remainder of the girls waiting for a student guide for their first day. Wood assumed his seat and stared at him over steepled fingers. The clock ticked louder than the bustle of students on the other side of the wall. He’d been in enough principals’ offices and interrogation rooms to know this tactic. Sam stared back.

The bell rang.

The clock ticked.

Opening a file, Wood said, “You don’t need to worry about the library. I was able to find a substitute.”

Sam continued to stare.

“I got bored over winter break, decided to investigate. You’re an intelligent man, Mr. Winchester, but something’s always been a little off about you. You swept in out of nowhere right when we needed a new librarian, waving your freshly printed Stanford diploma. You know Mr. Espada the chemistry teacher? He went to Stanford, too. His diploma doesn’t look like yours.” Wood slid copies of both documents across the desk, but Sam ignored them.

“I thought, ‘Maybe they changed the format.’ After all, he graduated a few years before you. But it gnawed at me, so I dug a little further and found Tiffany Tusing. Remember her?”

Judging by the giant smile plastered on Wood’s face, he was about to hit a home-run.

Sam continued to stare.

“Tiffany Tusing died in a car accident in 1993, which I am surprised we didn’t know before seeing as you’re using her social security number. Do you care to tell me why you used the social security number of a dead girl and falsified records to secure a position as Sunnydale High’s librarian?”

“I like books.”

“Suffice to say, as of right now you’re suspended while I investigate further. I will call you when it’s time to clean out your desk.”

Jada was excellent with a knife. Dean sat at the kitchen counter watching her chop vegetables with fury. If she ever decided to throw down against the monsters lurking outside, she wouldn’t be half bad in a fight.

“I still can’t believe he suspended you! Your reviews have been good. He hasn’t complained at all. What is his problem?”

“It’s personality clashes wrapped in politics. I’m sure it will be cleared up soon,” said Sam as he put salmon fillets on a baking sheet. Their fake identities obviously weren’t on the list of supernatural weirdness he’d explained to her.

“Want one, Dean, or are you having dinner with Buffy?” Sam asked with a smirk.

One glance at the fish and Dean curled up his lip in disgust. “Nah, she’s busy with the girls.”

“Girls?” Jada asked brightly, clearly happy to think about something other than how much she hated Principal Wood.

“Remember how I said there’s trouble at Buffy’s?” Sam asked.

“And the trouble is girls?” she repeated with an eyebrow raised. “Little girls or big girls?”

“Too many girls!” Dean grumbled. “Anyway, I think I’ll leave you to your whatever the hell you call that and take this leg out for a spin.” Tired of feeling useless, he had insisted the doctors x-ray his broken ankle. They were shocked to see it had healed in half the normal time, but Dean -- finally cast-less -- scooted out of the hospital before they could start running tests.

“Oh, okay, have a good time, Dean!” Jada waved at him with a smile. She was in comforting mode. He hoped Sam remembered to put a sock on the door.

Full of fries and a cheeseburger, Dean grabbed his beer and sauntered over to the pub’s neglected pool table. Before they’d decided to stay in Sunnydale, he and Sam had hustled pool at every bar in town to keep themselves in beer and scratchy sheets. Enough time had passed, they should be able to do another round. They could at least hit up nearby Santa Barbara. Keep the Potentials in cereal and whatever else a houseful of teenage girls could need.

Halfway through his second rack and third beer, someone said, “You’re pretty good.” At the other end of the table stood a tall, dark man with a goatee and shaved head. He was smiling, friendly.

After Buffy had told Dean about the extensive stalker file she’d found in the principal’s office, he had decided to look Robin Wood up. Brooklyn-born, he moved to the suburbs of Los Angeles after his mother was murdered when he was four. Always athletic, he played baseball and tennis all through school. He’d graduated in the middle of his class at UCLA, and spent several years in Teach for America before heading back to school for an administrative degree. On paper, he seemed like an all-American, up-from-nothing success story. Standing before him now, Dean didn’t like whatever secrets were behind Wood’s shining eyes.

“Wanna play?” Dean asked.

Wood whistled low. “Pretty sure you’d play me out of house and home.”

“Nah,” said Dean, racking the balls, “I only swindle my friends. You new to town, mister, uh?”

“Calvin! Name’s Calvin. Yeah, just moved up here from LA.” Wood extended his hand for a shake, but Dean left him hanging.

“That so?” Dean took the opening break shot, sinking two solids.

“Liking the small town life. Quaint. Calm. What about you, buddy? Lived here long?”

“Few months.”

“What brought you here?”

“Work.”

“Really? What do you do?” Wood asked, clearly determined to keep up his cheerful ruse.

“Exterminator.”

“Exterminator? Are the pests different in Sunnydale than where you’re from?”

“A bit.” Dean sunk two more balls. He was half finished before Wood even started.

Without a clear shot, Wood chose to bump his ball in Dean’s way. “What did you say your name was again?”

“I didn’t.”

Wood pursed his lips and nodded his head. “You’re not the most sociable guy are you?”

“Maybe I just don’t like you,” Dean growled.

“You don’t even know me.”

Dean flexed his fingers. The principal was an inch or two taller than him, with the thick arms of someone who’d spent time punching a bag. But bags didn't hit back.

Dean’s phone rang. Keeping his eye on his new friend, he answered, “Hey Girly. What’s up?”

“I’m done with training. Mind if I come over?” The bubbly tone to her voice indicated patrol had gone well.

“Sounds good.” He hung up and bumped into Wood’s shoulder, smirking. “It’s been fun, Robin. Let’s not do this again.”

Wood banished from his mind, Dean paced his room as he waited on Buffy to arrive. She hadn’t been over since Christmas Eve, and he was still pretty beaten up then. Though he’d spent the last week at her place, they’d barely had any time together.

A satisfied moan came from Sam’s room.

The pressure in Dean’s jeans was painful, so he went to the window to distract himself. He could just make out Orion’s belt through the bright lights of town. Buffy, not knowing where the mythic figures started and stopped, had claimed the cluster of stars making Orion’s shield as her own. The Slayer’s Heart, she called it. It was sappy and silly, but it was theirs. He wanted to share the sky with her.

Turning his face from the heavens to the street, Dean’s smile faded. A blue 1997 Dodge Stratus, the same car Robin Wood drove, was parked across the street. Dean was lacing his boots to confront the principal when Buffy opened his bedroom door.

In an instant, she was in his arms, her legs around his waist as he pressed her against the wall. Their kiss long and deep reveling in their perfect fit. “Missed you, Girly,” he said as he moved to kissing her neck.

A moan rose from deep in her throat as she played with his hair. “I can’t stay long -- twenty minutes tops, but I had to see you.”

He set her on top of his dresser and rubbed her leather-clad thighs. She knew those pants drove him crazy. “You’re smiling like you had a good day.”

“Mostly. You’re out of your cast. Spike came out of the basement and tried to feed himself; Alma had to teach him how to cook. Both Vi and Keisha staked vampires tonight. That’s three successful trainee patrols in a row.”

“I miss patrolling with you.”

“You, mister, are distracting with those kissable lips.” She sucked on his bottom lip like he was her favorite candy. “And that deep, rumbly voice. God, when you talk dirty--” She tugged off his shirt, a wolfish hunger in her eyes. “Other than the little things like Lucifer being out there doing God knows what and Wood suspending Sam--”

“Ugh.” Dean shook his head. “That jackass is outside.”

“What?!”

“Wood. I went down to the bar for dinner, and he was there trying to chat me up. Now he’s parked outside.”

Buffy dashed to the window. “I see you!” she yelled, pointing at her eyes and the car. It pulled away, disappearing down the block.

“Well, he just jumped up my priorities list,” she grumbled, the smile leaving her face for the first time.

“I was gonna pay him a visit tomorrow.”

“Don’t kill him.”

“That’s not Plan A.”

Sliding his hands under her sweater, he cupped one of her breasts. The tension melted from her face as he kneaded her body. “Right now, Plan A is to see how many times I can make you come in twenty minutes.”

“Challenge accepted,” she purred, pushing his pants to the floor.   

Robin Wood lived in a small, well-maintained bungalow six blocks from the high school. The inside was sparsely decorated in cheap furniture from I’m Totally Normal Monthly. The warehouse plastic smell of newness still hung in the air. The kitchen drawers were full of kitchen supplies. The living room drawers were full of typical homeowner paperwork, DVDs, travel mementos, and one picture -- an old white man with his arm around a young black boy. The office was equally boring with proposals, budgets, and books on child psychology and educational theory.

It felt like a set.

In the bedroom, an old steamer trunk and a bookcase stuffed with old leather books sat at the foot of the bed. Like in his own room, the trunk was full of stakes, holy water, crossbows and any other weapon a vampire hunter would need. The extensiveness of the collection told him Wood wasn’t new to hunting -- and if he wasn’t new to hunting, maybe he knew who Buffy was.

He grabbed a book from the shelf and started reading.

After a couple of hours, keys jingled in the door. Not working late tonight. Dean listened as Wood walked around the house with the casual care of someone not suspecting an intruder. He lightly laid his finger on the trigger of his gun and aimed it at the door of the bedroom.

Wood entered the room and betraying only the slightest surprise, raised his hands. “I thought you didn’t want hang out anymore, Dean.”

“I believe in second chances. Haven’t decided yet if I want to shoot you, so I’m gonna put this gun down. You’re gonna go for the machete you keep by the door, but I already moved it. And I think you know fucking with me would hurt.”

Dean held up a book, a journal more specifically. “At first, I guessed you were a hunter with a Slayer fetish. Got all these Watcher’s journals to jerk off to. Explains why you’ve been stalking Buffy so hard.

“Then I get to this.”

He read from the first page, “‘She came back. After surviving her Cruciamentum -- while pregnant no less -- I encouraged Nikki to hide. I made all the arrangements and was ready to face the Council when they discovered the truth.

“‘But I should have known Nikki Wood couldn’t stay away from a fight. She returned with her infant son and went right back into the dark, stake in hand.

“‘Her son is sleeping soundly in a makeshift bed beside me while his mother is out saving the world. It’s not fair she was chosen. Not fair that so much will be taken from her. It is not the boy’s fault, and I fear what will become of Robin when his mother meets her inevitable end.’”

Dean snapped the book shut. “Your mother was a Slayer. So what, you have some oedipal crush on Buffy?”

“Don’t act like you know me,” Robin said through gritted teeth.

“What do you want with Buffy?”

“I’d prefer to tell her directly.”

“You’re driving. Pretty sure you know the way.”

Buffy and her boss sat alone in her kitchen. He stared at his hands with contrition. She hadn’t been sure what to make of Dean’s call telling her he was coming by with the most-likely-not-dangerous principal. “I wish you would have just told me this up front instead of acting like a creepy stalker.”

“In retrospect, I see how my research looked more unwanted ex and less detective dossier, but Slayers aren’t Girl Scouts.”

She watched two dozen Potentials practicing fighting forms in her backyard as she mulled over Wood’s story.

A Slayer had a child. A Slayer was a mother. Buffy firmly rejected certain Slayer traditions. Being alone. Being on the outskirts of society. But being childless always made sense. Even if she and the baby survived the pregnancy, she would never see it grow up. It would never remember her.

She didn’t want her four-year-old son at her funeral. She didn’t want him dedicating his life to avenging her. She didn’t want another Slayer down the line to look in his face and say, “I’m sorry. I can’t help you.”

Wood sighed, “Can’t say I blame you. First Evil sounds pretty demanding.”

“Keeps me on my toes.”

Spike, his hair mussed from sleep and with dark circles under his eyes, emerged from the basement. “Sorry, I’m just ‘ere for eggs,” he mumbled.

Gabi, Cloé and Vi dashed through the kitchen, giggling. Gabi assumed her instructor’s station at the front of the group outside, while the other two found places in the crowd.

“You’re late!” Dani yelled, zeroing in on Cloé while ignoring the other two.

Cloé bowed her head, her shoulders slumping as if bracing for a blow. “I’m sorry, we --”

“I don’t care! This is life and death.” The other girls stopped their exercises and stared at the scene with a mix of embarrassment and satisfaction. “Maybe I’ll start calling you Chum because you’re not going to be good for anything other than vampire bait.”

“Hey!” Gabi snapped. “I made them late. If you want to scream at someone you and I can do it later. This isn’t helping anyone.”

Dani curled her lip in disgust as she glared at Gabi. “Look, I’m in charge here--”

“No.” Gabi rose to her full height, a head taller than Dani. “Buffy is in charge. You’re not even number two. You want to take this inside or keep training?”

Looking back at the crowd of expectant girls, Dani pointed at Cloé. “Arms up, ladies! You call that a stance?”

Wood turned away from the scene, eyebrows raised. “At least I’ve solved the mystery of the flood of transfers. I’m assuming the Winchesters forged all of their paperwork?”

Andrew stomped in. “Spike, don’t forget to wash the pan when you’re done. I had to clean all of your dishes yesterday.”

Wood pointed at the two men. “Not Potentials.”

“No! This is Spike and Andrew. The First is after them, so they’ve been living in my basement.”

“Spike and Andrew.” Wood eyed Spike’s back as the former vampire plated his food. “Buffy, does this First thing have anything to do with this goat-face seal I keep finding in the basement?”

Andrew gulped. Spike turned to look at Wood, a burning intensity in his eyes.

“Who are you?” Spike asked.

“Robin Wood, principal at Sunnydale High.” Wood extended his hand, which Spike reluctantly shook.

“Wood’s mother was a Slayer.”

“Slayers have kids?” Spike looked the new guy over with renewed interest.

“One did at least. Nikki Wood. New York. 70s,” Wood said.

“Sorry, my Slayer ‘istory’s not so good,” Spike said, grabbing a fork and taking his eggs to the basement.

With a sigh, Andrew put Spike’s dirty pan in the sink. “You’ve seen the seal?”

“Yeah, someone keeps digging it up. I found a body down there once lying on top of it.”

Andrew avoided eye contact. “What did you do with it? Asking for a friend.”

“Seeing as this is Sunnydale, I buried the kid outside of town. Last time I found the seal exposed, I covered it in concrete, reburied it, piled supplies on it, and had the door welded shut.”

“Thorough,” said Buffy, relieved Lucifer wasn’t going to be able to pull any more Turok-Han from the Hellmouth. At least not soon. “You know if you want to help…”

“Much as I want to spend more time with teenagers, I think I’ll stick to searching for the vampire who killed my mom.”

“You’re certain it’s in Sunnydale?”

“Absolutely. Tell you what. I’ll lift Sam’s suspension. Not like I could have found a replacement librarian in the middle of the year anyway. What’s their deal, by the way? I couldn’t find anything on the Winchesters.”

Buffy chuckled. “The Winchesters are a different kind of wild story. If you want to know, come back and ask them yourself. After you figure out how to get on their good side.”

Spike leaned forward over the utility sink to get a closer look at himself in the mirror. He’d forgotten what he looked like. Too angular for Victorian sensibilities, but handsome for the modern day.

Hadn’t that been the entire problem? William Pratt was always too something for his neighbors, his mother, his adored. Too meek. Too earnest. Too emotional. William Pratt did not belong.

Now wasn’t much better. He wasn’t a vampire, but was he a man? He was stronger than average. A little faster.

Before Drusilla had turned him, he’d written longhand ledgers, a human calculator. What was he supposed to do now? Wash sheets at the Motor Inn, saving to get a crumby apartment? Worry about his cholesterol and toenail fungus? Not think about the murders he’d gladly committed?

No, whatever was in the mirror wasn’t a man.

“What are you doing?” Andrew asked.

His voice startled Spike, who’d been so absorbed in his reflection, he hadn’t noticed the arrival of his roommate. “I was just marveling at wot a ‘andsome devil I am. Cheekbones.”

“Some guys have it all,” Andrew said with a sigh as he settled onto his cot.

“Is that guy gone? Big black fellow?”

“Yeah, he left a while ago. Didn’t seem too happy.”

“Right, well, I guess I’ll see to that...thing that needs seeing,” Spike said, heading upstairs.

Buffy stood on the back porch, overseeing Dani and Gabi leading the Potentials in a series of martial arts exercises. Spike didn’t know much of trained fighting. Seemed to take the fun out of it, especially when it came to fighting a disciplined, organized, knowledgeable Slayer, the ultimate test of improvisation.

He decided to leave out the front door, but Sam and Dean were in the driveway repairing the Impala. Spike hadn’t seen the car after Buffy wrecked it, but from the stories, he was surprised it wasn’t in a junkyard.

“Hey, Spike,” Sam called, waving him over.

Dean rose from where he’d been crouched by the front fender. “Hit it, Sammy.”

Sam flipped the knob to check one turn signal then the other. Dean gave a thumbs up before disappearing in front of the car again.

“How’re you doing?” Sam asked.

At one point in the underground church, Sam had lost hope and began to confess his darkest deeds. He’d hunted down a demon named Lilith. “I wanted revenge because she’d killed Dean, but Dean was back, so it was really about me, wasn’t it? My power. My abilities. Me saving the day.”

“Did you kill the bitch?”

Sam had chuckled, a thin wheeze, at the question. “You know what I had to do to get strong enough to kill Lilith? I killed and drank a demon possessed pediatric nurse. I drank until she turned ashen. I drank until my stomach strained, and I told myself, ‘Greater good, right?’”

“You’re making me hungry.”

“Wanna know the irony? Me killing Lilith, that’s what unleashed Lucifer.”

And now Sam, far from the brink of death, sat in his brother’s car testing turn signals. A not-so-innocent human with demon-blood tainted veins.

Spike opened the back door and slipped into the back seat. He almost missed the blood lust. His demon had guided him, amping up his every dark impulse for over a century. Without it, he had all of the baggage of someone he knew and no idea where he was going. But he didn’t want to go back. “I feel like I just woke up from a coma, but it’s ‘alloween and I’m in a blimey gorilla costume.”

Sam squinted at him, confused. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Metaphor needs work. Point is, I feel a little out of sorts with just myself rattling around up there.”

“It’ll take some getting used to.”

“Does anyone ever get used to humanity?” Spike asked, twisting his lips in a smirk to cover his sincerity.

“No,” said Sam quietly. “Some voices and faces always haunt you.”

“Like the nurse?”

Sam looked away in shame. They may both be killers, but only one of them had ever been proud of it. “Her husband never even knew what happened.”

“But sorry doesn’t change the past, no matter ‘ow many lives we get, does it?”

“No.”

“But life is just living, isn’t it?” Spike said. “The pain, the sex, the shame, the victories, they’re all part of the package.”

Finished with training, the Potentials began to flood the front yard, doing cartwheels and chasing each other. Enjoying the last bit of sun before nightfall forced them inside.

Giant grin plastered on his face, Dean sauntered around the car. “Baby’s ready to roll, Sammy.” His grin faded a bit when he saw Spike. “Dude, you’re practically glowing. It’s like you haven’t seen the sun in a century.”

Spike sighed. “Look out, George Carlin. A new wit has arrived.”

Dean shrugged. “We hid the beer in the cooler if you want one.” He left them to pick up his tools.

Sam smiled, soft and concerned, at Spike. “One day at a time. It’s going to be hard and weird, but I’m here for you. Call me if you feel like doing anything stupid.”

Spike was about to do something stupid. He paced in the pool of a street light in front of the little green bungalow. He wished he had a cigarette, but trying to smoke made him cough, his lungs burn. After sunset, he’d had a beer or three to convince himself his idea wasn’t suicidal.

What he did know with certainty: William Pratt would not have come. William Pratt would have wrung his hands, written at length, then waited in hiding until his mother handled the problem.

Damning evidence in hand, Spike would confront this head on.

He knocked on the door. Robin Wood answered immediately as if he’d been waiting on Spike to call. “I heard about your mum, and I, uh, I have information about her.”

Wood nodded slowly. “Meet me in the back, okay?”

New York in the 1970s had stunk of piss and cheap cigarettes. Between horny business men looking for fun in Times Square and a flood of punks wandering in and out of clubs, it was an easy meal. Not even having a Slayer in town did much to stem the tide of deaths.

Behind Wood’s house stood a dark garage with the door ajar. Spike peeked inside. “‘ello?”

It hadn’t taken Spike long to hunt down New York’s Slayer. Tall and lithe, Nikki moved with the grace and force of a prize fighter, exposing bone with her fists, sending teeth flying into the night. Spike watched her as she killed standard vampires without breaking a sweat. Once she tangled with two members of the Sisterhood of Jhe, throwing one into the other, impaling them at the same time when they were trapped in a dumpster. He was going to enjoy dancing with her.

A sting in his neck. Spike spun on his heels and knocked a shadow back against the garage door frame. Feeling woozy, he raised his fists.

Spike and Nikki had fought in the park a week before, a congenial how-do-you-do sort of fight. When he caught her in the subway, empty but for a few late-night party kids puking their guts out, he knew she was tired and ready to fold. With a smile on his face, he’d snapped her neck.

The door slid closed. Wood chuckled, “Feeling a little sick? My own mix. A little sedative and a little holy water.” The light blazed on, highlighting the cross-covered walls.

Wood, slipping on a pair of brass knuckles, stood between Spike and the door. “Oh, did you think I didn’t know you, Spike? British punk trash. About a hundred and forty. Lately, spotted with the Slayer. Strange since he killed two, including my mother.”

Spike dodged a punch. He may not be a vampire anymore, but he was still oddly quick. “What’s the plan then? Kill me and mummy comes back to you?”

They circled each other. A jab. A weave. The formerly cool principal was practically rippling with rage.

Wood lunged. Spike grabbed his arm and swung him into a table, knocking the air from him.

“She didn’t say anything when I killed her. No begging. No pleading. No final thoughts of you.”

“She died a hero, unlike you,” Wood growled.

“Maybe we died the same,” Spike said, ignoring the threat in Wood’s voice. “Alone, in the dark, running away from people who cared about us. Is that what bothers you most? Mummy’s good and dead because she kept picking us over you.”

Wood shouted, picked up a set of throwing knives, and began to use him for target practice.  Thunk! The first blade hit the wall close to Spike’s head.

Thunk!

The sedative was pulling Spike down, his limbs rubber, his vision blurry. He twisted trying to dodge the knives, but one grazed his side, another cut into his arm.

Thunk! Thunk!

Once the knives were all stuck in the wall behind him, Spike dove at the principal’s legs. They rolled on the ground, trading punches. Spike jabbed Wood with his elbow and landed a cracking blow to his ribs.

“Show me your real face!” Wood screamed, rolling on top of Spike, hitting him over and over. Spike could feel his flesh tearing, the blood spilling out as vengeance pummeled his face and body.

Using every bit of strength the drugs had left him, Spike pushed Wood off and grabbed a cross from the wall.

Nothing happened.

Wood stared, dumbfounded. “But the Watcher’s diaries --”

“Were right,” Spike said, pointing to a plastic grocery bag he’d dropped by the door. “I killed your mum. Came here to apologize. But then you were a twat so I didn’t.”

Holding his breath and with his eyes still on Spike, Wood knelt down to open the bag. Inside was a long leather coat. His mother’s coat.

The garage door slid open. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” yelled Buffy.

The principal, bleeding from a cut above his eye, rose and glared at Buffy. “This doesn’t involve you, Slayer.”

“You beat up one of my friends, you bet it involves me,” she said through gritted teeth.

Wood snorted, eyeing Spike with disgust as he slowly found his footing. “Friend? Do you even know what he is?”

“The vampire part or the killed your mom part? Yeah, I figured it out.”

Eyeing Spike with a little more curiosity than loathing, Wood asked, “Is he a vampire?”

“Was,” Spike said, trying and failing to stand. “You missed filling your life-long vengeance quest by about two days.”

“There’s -- there’s a cure?” Wood asked quietly.

“Only for very good boys.” Spike spit blood and grinned.

“Are you listening? Because I want to know if you can follow the simplest of instructions.” Buffy asked, her arms crossed and eyes blazing with fury. “ But here’s the thing, Robin, even if Spike were still a monster, he’d still be more of a man than you.”

Wood’s jaw flexed, his eyes dark and cold. “You don’t--”

“Did I say you could talk? If you come around me and mine again, I recommend crawling on your hands and knees.” Buffy helped Spike up and lead him outside.

“What were you thinking coming here?” she asked, shifting to support more of his weight.

The cold air sucked at the sweat and blood coating Spike’s skin sending a quick shiver through him. “You really think I’m a man now?”

“Well, Jeffrey Dahmer was a man, so the bar is low.” Buffy stopped and gazed at him. The moonlight glistened in her eyes as she gently touched the bruises on his face. “Do you think you’re not?”

“Thought making amends would be a good first step.” He held his breath while he took in the angles of her nose, her large sad eyes, the fluttering kiss of her fingers.

“You tried to kill me,” she said softly. “Then you helped me save the world. And now look at you with your soul without your demon. You’ve survived more and grown more than most men could dream.”

She shook her head sharply, the trance broken, and continued walking him down the block. “We need to get you patched up. Infections are totally a thing.”

He still craved her touch. “‘ow’d you know where I was?”

“Sam thought you were acting weird. I followed you.”

Spike hoped they weren’t walking far. As the fight drained out of him, the pain grew, his head throbbing, knuckles aching, one ankle sharp. “What do you think’s out there for an ex-vampire? Side show freakery?”

“You know what I want for you?” she asked. “I want you to find someone who could just know William Pratt, the man who has sacrificed himself for love over and over. Sometimes stupidly. Sometimes selfishly. Often perfectly.”

“You a fan of Pratt, then?”

Buffy shook her head. “Not for me, William. Be that man for her, whoever she is.”

With the stomach-churning taste of blood on his tongue, he chuckled. “You think love is in the cards for me?”

She half-smiled. “You’ve been a vampire, captured by the government, and been to Hell. I think you’re due for something good.”

They turned the corner where Dean was waiting in the freshly repaired Impala. Spike sighed but said nothing.

Buffy still picked up on his let-down. “You smell like a vampire Happy Meal. Probably better we don’t walk through town. You can crash at Dean’s. We don’t need the the girls knowing their principal beat up Crazy Basement Guy.”

“Is that what they call me?”

“Also Mystery Guy and Andrew’s Roommate.”

Spike slapped his hand over his heart in mock horror and climbed in the backseat of the Impala.

Read Giles’ dossiers on: Lili    Alma   Dani    Vi    Cloé      Molly     Lys     Grace    Wook    Keisha    Leticia     Naomi   Kate    Gabi   Jabulela

next chapter

[caustic-synishade]

Take This Spike - for @lum1natrix

A zombie apocalypse isn't the only hoard based misery that could plague society...

Forgive me for any errors, it's 9am lol

  Amy was silent as the truck rocked on the gravel road. Nothing but black brush creeped into the distant view they had, illuminated by an artificial Sun welded on to the metal roof. The only good that thing did currently was nourish the plants overtaking this road. They hadn't seen a harvester in two days.

  "You think they're smartening up?" Tyler almost laughed, but couldn't muster it. He just stared off at the road, keeping the truck steady.

  "They're still... 'human', I guess? I mean. They still think like people..." Amy retorted after a bit of dead air.

  "You know what I mean. The bloodlust," the man glanced towards her, before looking back at the road, "they're harder to find now-"

  "Do you think he's still out there?" She stared distantly.

  There was a moment of silence as that familiar pang of guilt washed over them. The two still hoped the others were asleep in the back.

  "I-I mean-"

  "They wouldn't let him live if they got him..." her voice began to waver, "I wonder if he's still alive. If he made it..."

  Tyler was unresponsive for a moment, "That's partially why we are out here, right? Next one we hit, we'll ask," it sounded as if it was a joke, but the man was completely serious. Interrogation was an option.

  More silence followed. It became incredibly commonplace since the night the sun broke. All they could do was scatter. Only one didn't make it.

  "Turn off the lights. It might be easier to get one," Amy suggested, peering past the faux sunlight, "some might be following us."

  Tyler did so and soon, they were plunged into darkness. The gravel crunched under the tires as the engine hummed softly, the only noise in the cabin. The sound alone would likely attract them.

  "Turn the lights on," the woman spoke the command softly.

  The lights were on once more, flooding the area behind them and in front of them. A loud hissing followed from behind. Tyler glanced up at the rear view mirror, seeing the flash of one of those monsters dipping back into the darkness. Without being told, he repeated the process. Again. And again.

  "Maybe we'll actually kill a few of them tonight..." Amy smiled, seemingly the first time since the incident, "For Mark."

 The truck screeched to a hault as thud rattled the cabin. A hissing broke through the air as Tyler snapped the lights back on. Quickly, Amy turned around to wake Kathryn and Ethan before jumping out with Tyler to take care of the harvester.

  "You can't hide under the truck, you idiot!" Tyler chuckled as Amy quickly jumped on the male creature, pulling the heavy bastard as far as she could. She managed, despite her small frame. It was weak.

  The blond raised the wooden stake in the air as she prepared to end the thing's life below her at any moment, "You listen to us, or I'm driving this thing right through your goddamn heart!"

  The creature groaned, clearly dazed by being hit by their truck. Suddenly, Amy stopped, straining her eyes to see him in the shadow casted by the truck.

  "No," she breathed out, "this isn't..."

  "What's wrong?" Tyler barked, more alarmed than anything.

  "Mark?" Amy's voice was soft as she simply placed her hands on his cheeks.

  For a moment, the creature hissed at her touch, but quickly calmed himself, his voice hoarse, "Amy."

  "Oh no, no, no," the woman pulled back before trying to hug him, "Mark-"

  "Stop," he raised his head, her able to see him better. The fangs. Bigger than she once knew. Deadlier. The whites of his eyes were no longer white, but black. A deep red began to overtake his irises. She quickly backed up at the sight.

  "Amy, he's turned..." Tyler felt the pit in his stomach turn from sinkhole to asteroid impact, "Every single one of them has wanted us dead. Even those who were once good people..."

  "I'm not like them..." Mark began to sit up as Amy and Tyler quickly backed into the light. Kathryn and Ethan were now emerging from the truck.

---

  All he could do at this point was run. The little voice in the back of his mind told him tiredly, it would not work. He knew they were fast. But maybe, just maybe he could outrun the hissing growing behind him. The taunting.

  Mark was out of anything that could help him live, separated from the group in the dead of night. They all scattered, but he was corralled off by the harvesters. The man could only hope to anything and everything out there, that they were safe. If he had to die to keep them safe, so be it.

  "Why are you running?" One of the creatures hissed.

  "Just let us have a little taste!" Another snapped.

  The flanneled man's legs were aching for a rest, however, his wish to stop was granted. Unable to see a thing in the darkness, he was soon rammed into from the left. A heavy weight bashed into him, taking him down. It wasn't solid ground they landed on. The land slipped under their weight, a small chunk of dirt sliding with them as they soon tumbled. The weight soon left Mark as his body slammed into a tree before letting him continue his fall.

  There was a numbness in the man's left leg after he slammed on the forest floor, soon rolling to a stop. The leaves rustled as the sounds of the infected drifted in his ears. Mark quickly tried to sit up, but pain rocked his abdomen. He was unable to move.

  A weight was on him again, one hand wrapped around his neck, the other pinning his shoulder down. The amount of times Mark had seen this happen to other people, it never prepared him. Though, the vampire didn't bite. Another set of hands soon pried his off of those around his neck, pinning them to the dirt below. Yet another came to wrap over his mouth.

  "Your people have killed so many of us..." The one on top of his growled, "so many of us slaughtered by you 'vampire hunters'..."

  Mark wanted to retort, his voice muffled by the hands.

  "We could kill you, right here, right now. Take your blood drained corpse and leave it outside your pathetic little shelter... we could do that..." Mark felt the cold breath against his neck as the fangs grazed his skin.

  "Or, we could fix you," there was silence for a moment, "Your leg... it's broken. You probably broke a few ribs, too... You ever hear that saying, 'I wouldn't wish this upon my enemies?'"

  Mark recoiled in their grasp, trying in vain to break free.

  "You may be our enemy, but I think that this is a better punishment, at least to you it is..." the harvester sank his teeth into Mark's throat.

  The man writhed in the grasp, muffled screams trying to escape. The feeling of draining was replaced by cold. Cold flooded his veins, spreading quickly in his body.

  He didn't even remember passing out, but he woke up just as the sun was rising. The moment one of the rays touched his skin, he felt a light stinging. Barely anything. However, as the sun rose, it turned to a scorching....

  He was infected...

---

  "You're..." Kathryn murmured, eyes stuck on the monster.

  "I'm not them..." Mark stared back, his eyes making it hard to convince her. They did, start to look a bit more human as he calmed down, "I'm not one of those monsters..."

  The group looked at one another before back at him. Mark watched from the safety of the shadow as Amy and Ethan moved to the truck. No one talked. They soon came back, seemingly uncomfortable. In Ethan's hands was that dreaded vampire muzzle, used when they wanted to really interrogate a harvester... the only way they'd trust taking him back.

  "This is the only way you're coming back to camp," Ethan looked down, "Sorry..."

[marshmallow-the-vampire-slayer]

MTVS Epic Rewatch #170

BTVS 6X17 NORMAL AGAIN

DON’T FORGET TO VOTE ON THE SEASON 6 POLLS!

Stray thoughts

1) I usually enjoy alternate universe episodes, and this is no exception. Shit got serious super quickly…

2)   But then the demon is gone and Buffy is just passed out against the car?

So if the Trio wanted to kill her, wasn’t this the perfect opportunity? Or if they knew how to summon this demon so that she would think she was crazy, why didn’t they do it earlier? I mean, on the one hand, it makes for a great episode, but on the other hand, it kind of doesn’t make sense.

3) Sweet Willow!

WILLOW: Hi, Tara, how are you? Well, I was wondering, maybe, you would wanna go out sometime? For coffee... food... kisses and gay love?

4) I love the fact that we got this little glimpse into Tara’s life outside the Scoobies, even if it’s only meant to make Willow jealous.

She has friends, okay? Other friends! She’s not just Willow’s girlfriend, even if that’s most of we got to see. And she’s still taking her classes. And she really seems to have become more confident and self-assured.

5) This is BFFing done right…

BUFFY: How come you're all, home, hearth, and DSL anyway? I thought you were gonna go see Tara. WILLOW: Saw her. Saw her completely. BUFFY: Ouch. Just got a scratch from all that brittle. WILLOW: It's... when I was seeing her, she was seeing someone else. A girl. BUFFY: You mean- WILLOW: I mean... not "seeing" seeing. Well, maybe. I don't know, it was inconclusive, and I didn't stick around to find out. Might have magicked my fist through a wall or something, BUFFY: Will, I'm sorry. WILLOW: I mean, they're probably just friends. I press my lips against my friends’ all the time. BUFFY: I'm sure they're just friends. Once you fall for Willow, you stay fallen.

6)   Xander really doesn’t know what he wants, though… which is precisely the reason he shouldn’t be looking for Anya and start “dating” her again...

XANDER: I don't know how stuff got so mixed up! I blew it. BUFFY: No. Wel ... maybe it wasn't the best time to break up with her, but... XANDER: No. It wasn't about breaking up. I love her, and god, I miss her so much. WILLOW: So, you left her at the altar, but you still wanna- BUFFY: You still wanna date? XANDER: I guess. I know that I'm a better person with her in my life. But things got so complicated with the wedding, and with my family, and with her... demons, and... what if it all goes to hell, and forever? But then I left... and ever since... I've had this painful hole inside. And I'm the idiot that dug it out. I screwed up real bad.

7)   This is a very underrated Spuffy moment, I think…

Even if she admits she’s not there looking for him, she does stop and sit down to talk to him. It definitely looks like she misses him, probably not in the “I can’t live without you I love you so much” kind of way but in the “you’re someone who sort of understands me and whom I occasionally enjoy talking to.” And she opens up and tells him all the Scoobies going-ons. I don’t know, I think it’s all kind of sweet.

8) Now this was a plot twist (and I don’t think it was a coincidence that she blacked out when her friends started fighting…)

Because, you see, she escapes from the harsh reality in which her friends are fighting and she’s been secretly sleeping with someone who she’s supposed to hate (and whom most of her friends certainly hate...) to a fantasy world in which the person she finds the most comfort in is still alive and there to help her.

9) I really love this AU, guys. I mean, I don’t love the fact that Buffy’s crazy in it, and that’s she’s not really Buffy... but I think it’s cool how it could actually be true, you know?

BUFFY: What is this? DOCTOR: Do you know where you are, Buffy? BUFFY: Sunnydale. DOCTOR: No, none of that's real, none of it. You're in a mental institution. You've been with us now for six years. Do you remember?

10) I really think this is all very well written. It all just makes sense, you know? (which is exactly the reason Buffy will start to call her own reality in question...)

DOCTOR: For the last six years, she's been in an undifferentiated type of schizophrenia. (...) Buffy's delusions are multi-layered. She believes she's some type of hero. (...) The Slayer, right, but that's only one level. She's also created an intricate latticework to support her primary delusion. In her mind, she's the central figure in a fantastic world beyond imagination. (...) She's surrounded herself with friends, most with their own superpowers... who are as real to her as you or me. More so, unfortunately. Together they face... grand overblown conflicts against an assortment of monsters both imaginary and rooted in actual myth. Every time we think we're getting through to her, more fanciful enemies magically appear- (...)  A magical key. Buffy inserted Dawn into her delusion, actually rewriting the entire history of it to accommodate a need for a familial bond.  Buffy, but that created inconsistencies, didn't it? Your sister, your friends, all of those people you created in Sunnydale, they aren't as comforting as they once were. Are they? They're coming apart. (...) Buffy, you used to create these grand villains to battle against, and now what is it? Just ordinary students you went to high school with. No gods or monsters... just three pathetic little men... who like playing with toys.

I especially love the meta-commentary on Dawn’s appearance and her impact on the show’s mythology, and the one on The Trio and how un-big-bad they are.

11) And then the retcon...

WILLOW: You are not in an institution. You have never been in an institution. BUFFY: Yes, I have. WILLOW: What? BUFFY: Back when I saw my first vampires... I got so scared. I told my parents... and they completely freaked out. They thought there was something seriously wrong with me. So they sent me to a clinic. WILLOW: You never said anything. BUFFY: I was only there a couple of weeks. I stopped talking about it, and they let me go. Eventually... my parents just... forgot. WILLOW: God. That's horrible. BUFFY: What if I'm still there? What if I never left that clinic?

And while it may give another layer to why Buffy always tried so hard to hide her identity from her mother (I still think the only reason she didn’t say anything was to protect Joyce, but I’ll concede this might be another reason…), there are a lot of lines and moments between Buffy and Joyce in previous seasons that really don’t make sense in light of this new information. Like, why would Buffy joke about vampires in front of her mom knowing that the last time she claimed they were real she ended up in a mental institution? Or how come when Buffy “came out” in Becoming Joyce looked as if this was the first time she’d heard any of this (which it was! hence her reaction)? I get the writers try to explain away the lack of reference in previous seasons to Buffy’s stay in a mental institution by claiming that their parents eventually forgot and that she never brought it up because she was only there a couple of weeks. But I still feel like this would have come up at some point or another, and it certainly makes moments like this...

...odd to say the least.

12) I hate Spike for making this about him. He honestly believes the only reason Buffy is indulging in the mental institution fantasy is so that she can pretend she has never slept with him. He knows, probably better than anyone else, the kind of issues she’s been dealing with since she was brought back. You might be good in the sack, Spike, but there is a myriad other reasons Buffy’s trying to delude herself. Get a grip.

SPIKE: So, she's having the wiggins, is she? Thinks none of us are real. Bloody self-centered, if you ask me. XANDER: Spike, we need muscle, not color commentary. SPIKE: On the other hand, it might explain some things... this all being in that twisted brain of hers. Yeah. Thinks up some chip in my head. Make me soft, fall in love with her, then turn me into her soddin' sex slave- XANDER: What?! SPIKE: Nothing. Alternative realities. Where we're all little figments of Buffy's funny-farm delusion.

A) Bloody self-centered? Pot, meet kettle. B) If anyone shouldn’t have been surprised to find out Buffy had been sleeping with Spike, it should’ve been Xander. Evidence: 1. the touchy situation he ran into at Buffy’s kitchen in Gone. 2. the ghost “exercise” in the same episode. 3. THIS. Spike basically admitted to it!

13) I think this is an underrated funny moment if you ask me.

SPIKE: Oh, balls. You didn't say he was a Glarghk Guhl Kashma'nik. XANDER: 'Cause I can't say glar...

14)   And why wouldn’t Buffy give into this reality?

JOYCE VOICEOVER: You don't have a sister, Buffy.

BUFFY:  Dawn? JOYCE: No, honey. Say it. It'll help you believe it.

BUFFY: I ... don't ... have a sister. I know I, I didn't grow up with her. These monks, they-they made her.

HANK: It's your mind, just playing tricks on you.

JOYCE: You're our little girl, Buffy. Our one and only. We've missed you so much. Mom and Dad just want to take you home and take care of you.

15) Ay ay ay Dawn, I get you, I really really do, but this is so not the time…

DAWN: I'm not even there, am I? BUFFY: What? DAWN: You said it a second ago. You don't have a sister. It's your ideal reality, and I'm not even a part of it.

A) Why would Buffy’s ideal reality be being a patient in a mental asylum? B) Buffy is clearly struggling to juggle the two realities and to try and discern what is real and what is not, so maybe cut her a break if her mind is playing tricks on her?

16) You’re a pig, Spike. (Also, I can’t help but notice the parallels between this scene and the one with Buffy and Angel in earshot. I don’t know if the writers intended for this scene to parallel that one, but it’s made abundantly clear why soulless Spike is not right or good for Buffy. While Angel took care of Buffy and put her needs first, Spike takes the opportunity to make it all about him and to hurt her and threaten her.)

SPIKE: I hope you don't think this antidote's gonna rid you of that nasty martyrdom.  See, I figured it out, luv. You can't help yourself. You're not drawn to the dark like I thought. You're addicted to the misery. It's why you won't tell your pals about us. Might actually have to be happy if you did. They'd either understand and help you, god forbid... or drive you out... where you can finally be at peace, in the dark. With me. Either way, you'd be better off for it, but you're too twisted for that. Let yourself live, already. And stop with the bloody hero trip for a sec. We'd all be the better for it. You either tell your friends about us ... or I will.

He’s trying to dress his intentions of trying to force her to come clean to her friends as selfless (you’d be better off for it) but in reality, he’s desperate because he’d expected Buffy to come back running into his arms by now, and she hadn’t. So this is his last ditch effort to manipulate her.  

17) And then...

Bravo, Spike.

But see... this is the reason she made this call:

BUFFY: I wanna be healthy again. What do I have to do?

“I wanna be healthy again.” It all boils down to that. This is how she feels in both realities. She wants to be healthy, she wants to feel normal, she wants to be herself again. The difference lies in the question: “What do I have to do?” In the real world, Buffy is clueless and more importantly, she doesn’t have anyone to rely on and guide her. In the other reality, not only does she have her parents, but she also has a doctor who is willing to give her a practical answer to that question. She won’t have to figure it out all on her own. She’ll be told what to do, how to fix everything, how to make herself feel better. And then she’ll do it, and it’ll be over.

18) I love how her death is explained…

DOCTOR: You have to start ridding your mind of those things that support your hallucinations. You understand? There are things in that world that you cling to. For your delusion, they're safe-holds, but for your mind they're traps. We have to break those down. BUFFY: Slaying? DOCTOR: Yes... but I'm talking about those things you want there. What keeps you going back. BUFFY: My friends. DOCTOR: That's right. Last summer, when you had a momentary awakening, it was them that pulled you back in.

I mean, that was quite literally what happened...

19) Now, this was a long time coming…

Sorry, Xander stans, I had to. He didn’t deserve it in this episode, though, but I just couldn’t help myself. 

20) The real plot twist is the fact Buffy hadn’t questioned her own sanity before this episode…

BUFFY:  'Cause what's more real? A sick girl in an institution... or some kind of supergirl... chosen to... fight demons and... save the world. That's ridiculous.

21) Buffy basically gave away her affair with Spike here, didn’t she?

BUFFY: A girl who sleeps with the vampire she hates?! Yeah, that makes sense.

How did Dawn forget about this? Also, I know the focus of this episode is Buffy, and I know before I said Dawn’s complaints were ill-timed. But I can’t imagine what it must’ve been for Dawn – who had doubted her own realness multiple times because of her origins – to know the person she loves the most in the whole world believes she’s just a figment of her imagination.

22) Bless Tara for her good-timing and magic powers!

And poor Tara!

23)

JOYCE: Buffy? Buffy! Buffy, fight it. You're too good to give in, you can beat this thing. Be strong, baby, ok? I know you're afraid. I know the world feels like a hard place sometimes, but you've got people who love you. Your dad and I, we have all the faith in the world in you. We'll always be with you. You've got... a world of strength in your heart. I know you do. You just have to find it again. Believe in yourself.

I think it’s rather fitting that Buffy find the strength to try and fight her depression by talking to her mom, even if it only was a hallucination. Buffy was feeling lost and defeated and helpless and like she couldn’t cope with… life. She was desperately looking for adult support because she didn’t feel like an adult herself, and she didn’t know what to do, how to fix things. The one parental figure who was still alive had skedaddled when she needed him the most. So, of course, she looked for comfort in her mom in any way she could. And I love the fact that we are lead to believe Joyce’s speech is about convincing Buffy to give into the mental institution reality while in fact, it’s the other way around. Buffy wants to feel like herself again, she wants to be healthy and normal – but her own definition of normal, not the one from hallucination land. And Joyce gave her the strength she needed to face her depression and try and overcome it. This was indeed a turning point for Buffy in this season. I think from now on, she will actively try to get better, and we’ll see her struggling her way to “normal.” I mean, even after what happens in Seeing Red, she still wants to live. And I love how Joyce’s words of encouragement are very similar to Buffy’s own “the hardest thing in this world is to live int it” speech.

24) And then she’s back… and this whole scene reminds a lot of her fight against Adam in Primeval… like, it’s almost a play-by-play of it...

And then the sun shines behind her…

25)  And of course, the open end…

which, in my opinion, only means Buffy’s still under the effects of the demon’s drug or whatever (which she is, she hasn’t taken the antidote yet.)