Rise Up, Oh Heart, For There is Another Battle to Win

Anonymous asked: C and F for the fandom meme? (I hope you're having a good day!)

From this ask meme!

C: A pairing you wish you shipped, but just can’t

Oh, wow, sit tight, all of these are entirely predicated on God my life would be easier if I shipped the most popular ship in the fandom.

Charles Xavier/Erik Lensherr: I got committed to the tragic friendship way too young to change my mind, but I have nothing against the ship.

Any configuration at all of Jim Kirk/Spock/Bones McCoy: I just…struggle?  I concur that Spock/Kirk is pretty gay in TOS and I want to ship it, and honestly Kirk/Bones should be my exact shit, but I just–look, Kirk is too in love with the Enterprise for anyone else to have a claim.

Buffy Summers/Spike: nope, nope, nope, nope, can’t do it.  Too rapey, too much sexual assault, even if I didn’t like Angel I wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Doc Holliday/Wynonna Earp: the show clearly really wants me to care about that pairing and like…I guess there’s nothing wrong with it, but I raise you Doc Holliday/Wyatt Earp and Wynonna/Dolls because Dolls is wonderful and Doc is so blindingly obviously in love with Wyatt and trying to work his issues out by fucking Wynonna, which, no judgement, because Wynonna is clearly trying to work out her own adequacy issues by fucking Doc.

Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter: I want to ship it just so I could stop feeling this level of seething wrath about it, I feel similarly about almost EVERY ship that the HP fandom likes, including literally anything that includes Severus Snape.

F: What’s the longest you’ve ever been in a fandom? What fandom was it?

I mean…I was a late-comer to the concept of internet fandom (the last…four or five years?) because of various reasons, but I’ve been a devoted consumer of any X-Men content I could afford to get my hands on since I was 7 and I’ve been collecting Animorphs books about as long, so there’s those.

almost twins

SWEET GIRL, Death sighs, sliding through the motionless candle flames of the cave.  The Slayer is weeping into her hands, horrible ripping sounds as she stands with the water of the pool lapping at her feet.  She is dressed all in white, and so is Death, and they could be twins.  The Slayer is still afraid of Death, this time.

“Please,” the Slayer gasps.  “Please, I don’t want to go.”  

Death smiles.  DO NOT BE AFRAID OF ME, MY DEAR.  WE ARE MUCH ALIKE, YOU AND I.  AND BESIDES, Death soothes her, IT IS NOT YOUR TIME YET.

“Thank you,” the Slayer sobs, and Death rests a bone-pale hand on her shoulder to press her back into the body in the pool.

***

The next time, it’s been a few years, and the Slayer–the Slayer, Death always thinks of her as such, even though there have been two, one passed through Death’s own hands and the other very close now, since last time–isn’t afraid of Death anymore.  They are allies, even friends, well-known and often met in the course of the Slayer’s duties.  Almost twins.  She’s not dressed in white, she’s dressed in her own blood and vindication and hospital paper, and she’s sitting on the foot of a hospital bed.

DEAREST, Death croons, sitting down next to her and stroking her hair with a hand while she lets her fingers hover just above the hand of the body in the bed.  She cannot touch the body, but Death can offer her this little comfort.

“I can’t die,” the Slayer says, looking at the unhealthily white skin of the body in the bed.  Even the golden hair looks washed out.  “The Ascension is tomorrow and I have to be there.  And–and, God, he’ll never forgive himself.  It’ll kill him if I die from this.”

I HAVE MET LIAM MORE THAN ONCE, Death says, somewhat disapproving.  HE WAS RATHER QUESTIONABLE THAT FIRST TIME.

The Slayer almost smiles, but tears break over her lashes instead.  “I’ve heard.”

Death allows, HE HAS IMPROVED TREMENDOUSLY.  THE LAST TIME–  Death stops, and the Slayer’s shoulders are stiff as stone under the thin paper of the hospital gown.  HE IS A GOOD MAN, Death finishes.

“Yeah,” the Slayer sniffs.  “Try telling him that.”  She raises her head and looks back to Death from the body in the bed.  “That’s why I won’t die here,” the Slayer says, iron-clad.  “You can’t take me from him.  Even if he’s going–even if he’s going to leave me.  And the Ascension…you can’t take me.  I won’t go.”

Death laughs.  ALMOST I BELIEVE YOU COULD STOP ME, DEAR GIRL.  BUT DO NOT WORRY.  THIS WILL BE NO BATTLE.  IT IS NOT YOUR TIME YET.  And Death presses her back into the body, and the Slayer clutches gratefully at Death’s wrist before she goes.

***

It is longer, before the next time, and this time the Slayer does not resist, throws herself weeping into Death’s arms and lets herself be held close to the thin body under the white cloth, and buries her tears in Death’s neck.

DEAREST CHILD, Death whispers into her golden hair, YOU HAVE FOUGHT FOR SO LONG.  COME WITH ME, AND YOU CAN REST.

***

Death has never considered mutiny before, but seeing the Slayer torn back into life almost brings it to mind.

***

They meet again, and again, for years.  It is not frequent, but it is not infrequent either, the Slayer brought close to Death’s hands more than once by her burden.  The Slayer doesn’t stare at the body anymore, sits at peace and smiles when she sees Death, and they talk like old friends, like family long parted.

“How is Tara?  How is Jenny?  Tell me about Cordy, is she doing all right?  Did you see my mother, is she okay?  How is your work?  Is it my time?”  The Slayer asks her questions like there’s nothing to fear, and Death tries to keep a mental list, tries to check up on all her loved ones so that the Slayer can be assured of their wellbeing.  The Slayer’s list of loved ones is long.  Death hates to have to tell her, when the soul of Liam has passed through Death’s hands again, and always makes sure to let her know when it is restored.

LOVE, Death says quietly, every time, at the end of their talk, DO YOU WANT TO REST?

“No rest for the wicked, didn’t you hear?”  This is always the only time that the Slayer’s eyes glisten, her lips tremble.  “I still have so much to do.”

LET THE OTHERS DO IT, DEARHEART.

“Maybe next time,” the Slayer says, looking away, as ever, to hide the tears threatening to slide down her cheeks.  “Maybe next time I’ll rest.”

Death takes her face in bone-pale hands and kisses her forehead, a benediction.  They are almost twins.  YOU ARE THE BRAVEST OF YOUR KIND, SWEET GIRL.  And Death presses the Slayer back into her body

bell15obsessions asked: Buffy Summers for the ask meme

MY LOVE BUFFY SUMMERS.  For this ask meme.  Also, buckle up for fucking Buffy/Angel hour, folks, I don’t truck with Buffy/Spike.

A:  what I think realistically

Buffy’s classmates…listen.  They’re not as oblivious as the adult population, because…obviously they’re not, they’re the rising generation of kids who go to school with the Slayer, even the most obtuse of them will pick something up eventually.  They don’t really know, either, and more to the point they don’t altogether want to know.  But they can kind of…tell.  

No one challenges Buffy.  Ever.  Buffy is a hunter of hunters, a killer of killers.  Even though they don’t know, something deep down in the mind of even the densest high school student looks at her and quails in fear, looks at her and says strength and danger and protection and fear all at once in a mad jumble.

Willow and Xander go from being regularly shoved around to not even touched.  People still talk shit for a while, sure, but by their senior year, the entirety of Sunnydale High would rather be shanked with a pencil and die quick than go toe-to-toe with Buffy Summers.

And God have mercy on you if you lay a finger on her little sister, because Buffy won’t.

B:  what I think is fucking hilarious

Early during that rocky first few months, Giles foolishly told Buffy that she should dress more practically.  Out of sheer spite, she went slaying in stiletto heels and club dresses for two weeks until Giles had to reluctantly eat his words.

Angel was planning to come talk to her, but listen.  He’s only human.  Sort of.  He has limits.  Buffy kicking back on a mausoleum in a little black dress with blonde hair loose over her shoulders and six-inch heels while she juggles holy water vials with the careless ease of someone with total confidence in her skills–that’s his limit.  He’s calling it right now.  He leaves, feeling mildly shellshocked.

C: what is heart-crushing and awful but fun to inflict on friends

SWEET GIRL, Death sighs, sliding through the motionless candle flames of the cave.  The Slayer is weeping into her hands, horrible ripping sounds as she stands with the water of the pool lapping at her feet.  She is dressed all in white, and so is Death, and they could be twins.  The Slayer is still afraid of Death, this time.  IT IS NOT YOUR TIME YET.

“Thank you,” the Slayer sobs, and Death rests a bone-pale hand on her shoulder to press her back into the body in the pool.

***

The next time, it’s been a few years, and the Slayer–the Slayer, Death always thinks of her, even though there have been two, one gone through Death’s own hands and the other very close now, since last time–isn’t afraid of Death anymore.  They are friends, well-known and often met.  Almost twins.  She’s not dressed in white, she’s dressed in her own blood and vindication and black, and she’s sitting on the foot of a hospital bed.

DEAREST, Death croons, sitting down next to her and stroking her hair with a hand while she lets her fingers hover just above the hand of the body in the bed.

“I can’t die,” the Slayer says, looking at the unhealthily white skin of the body in the bed.  Even the golden hair looks washed out.  “The Ascension is tomorrow and I have to be there.  And–and he’ll never forgive himself.”

I HAVE MET LIAM, Death says, somewhat disapproving.  HE WAS RATHER QUESTIONABLE.

The Slayer almost smiles, but tears break over her lashes instead.  “I’ve heard.”

Death allows, HE HAS IMPROVED TREMENDOUSLY.

“I won’t die here,” the Slayer says, iron-clad.  “You can’t take me.”

Death laughs.  ALMOST I BELIEVE YOU COULD STOP ME, DEAR GIRL.  BUT IT IS NOT YOUR TIME YET.  And Death presses her back into the body, and the Slayer clutches gratefully at Death’s wrist before she goes.

***

It is longer, before the next time, and this time the Slayer does not resist, throws herself weeping into Death’s arms and lets herself be held close to the thin body under the white cloth, and buries her tears in Death’s neck.

DEAREST CHILD, Death whispers, YOU HAVE FOUGHT FOR SO LONG.  COME WITH ME, AND YOU CAN REST.

***

Death has never considered mutiny before, but seeing the Slayer torn back into life almost brings it to mind.

***

They meet again, and again, and the Slayer smiles when she sees Death and they talk like old friends, like family long parted.

“How is Tara?  How is Jenny?  Tell me about Cordy, is she doing all right?  Did you see my mother, is she okay?  How is your work?  Is it my time?”  The Slayer asks her questions like there’s nothing to fear, and Death tries to keep a mental list, tries to check up on all her loved ones so that the Slayer can be assured of their wellbeing.  The Slayer’s list of loved ones is long.  Death hates to have to tell her, when the soul of Liam has passed through Death’s hands again, and always makes sure to let her know when it is restored.

LOVE, Death says quietly, every time, at the end of their talk, DO YOU WANT TO REST?

“No rest for the wicked, didn’t you hear?”  This is always the only time that the Slayer’s eyes glisten, her lips tremble.  “I still have so much to do.”

LET THE OTHERS DO IT, DEARHEART.

“Maybe next time,” the Slayer says, looking away, as ever, to hide the tears threatening to slide down her cheeks.  “Maybe next time I’ll rest.”

Death takes her face in bone-pale hands and kisses her forehead, a benediction.  They are almost twins.  YOU ARE THE BRAVEST OF YOUR KIND, SWEET GIRL.  And Death presses the Slayer back into her body.

D: what would never work with canon but the canon is shit so I believe it anyway

Honestly, AU where Angel/Cordelia doesn’t get shoehorned in and there’s no super uncomfortable Spike/Buffy plot and we get 100x more active pining.  Deliver!  My!  Mutual!  Pining!  Thanks!

In slightly more seriousness, though, (not that I’m not TOTALLY serious about that mutual pining thanks) you know how there’s that one time where Buffy accidentally demonstrates to a room full of morons that she can toss a dude over her shoulder like a paperweight?  In my heart of hearts, Buffy is shyly approached the next day by a girl who’s regularly harassed by jackasses and Buffy accidentally becomes the mentor to a bunch of random girls for how To Beat Up A Creepy Dude 101.  At work, Buffy walks other girls back to their cars on the regular, and she’s sort of surprised by how many of the people who try to mess with them are just…creepy dudes, nothing supernatural, because…like…very few people are suicidal enough to try shit with Buffy and her standard for comparison is like 99% vampires and 1% miscellaneous other.

Unrelatedly she and Angel are soulmates and they probably have a weird psychic pseudo-sire bond because of the bite on her neck and at some point a vampire asks her about it and she’s like “Well, I saved a master vampire from dying.”

VERY relatedly to the above, Angel is an actual master vampire and gossip is faster than wildfire and word Gets Around that the Slayer (because, much to Faith’s bitterness, Buffy is always the Slayer), one time saved Fucking Angelus from death.  The entire supernatural underworld simultaneously explodes with elaborate conspiracy theories, chief among them that the Slayer is actually a vampire.  Buffy hears about this after a really long day and the vampire who lets it slip is very confused when the Slayer sits down on the ground and laughs until she cries.  Not confused for long, though.  She stakes him before he can be confused for too long.

ifeelbetterer:

rupertegiles:

Oh so at the Buffy panel at Awesome Con James Marsters talked about how sometimes Spike would be in a scene and he’d just have no idea why Spike is there and the script didn’t explain it, and so he just made up motivations and he said he basically just made up 90% of the time that he was there to kill Xander and forgot/changed his mind

Me too

(Source: drelliotreidmd)

zarohk asked: So, I'm not totally sure the timelines match up, but do you think that Rachel's sisters (especially Sarah who is younger and more naive) could have watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer and decided that Rachel is the Slayer? Goes out at night, all hours, secret boyfriend who only visits her at night, can't tell their single mom, etc.

thejakeformerlyknownasprince:

[First of all: the timelines do actually match up quite well.  In #20 there’s a brief mention of David’s dad (of all people) watching Buffy on TV, and although Animorphs started and ended first most of its run overlaps with Buffy.  Second, I LOVE this idea so much.  Rachel and Buffy are two of the people who were massively influential in teaching me and my friends that it was possible to be girly and tough at the same time.  Third… Voila.]

It starts as a way to distract her sisters, on the nights when their mom can’t make it home and their dad is too busy to call—Rachel will put on whichever Buffy episode she’s got saved in the DVR and all three of them will watch it together.  However, all three of them fall in love with the show over time, until they’re catching each episode live: Sarah laughs at all the puns and hums along with the theme song while Jordan waxes poetical about how dreamy Spike and Angel are.  

Rachel just loves Buffy herself, because there aren’t enough girls on TV that can look that fabulous and kick butt at the same time.  It becomes a weekly ritual, one that Rachel sometimes has to miss if Cassie or Jake calls with urgent news, but she’ll put aside anything short of the alien invasion to catch it with her sisters.

*****************

Jordan meets Rachel at the door, which is a bad sign because their mom and Sarah are both asleep and Rachel herself went to bed six hours ago.  The mission was long, nasty, and exhausting, the way they always are, and Rachel’s too keyed-up from the adrenaline rush to think of a proper excuse for why she’s sneaking in.  

She and Jordan stare at each other in silence for a few seconds, Rachel leaning on the door frame, Jordan holding a comic book in both hands as she sits on the end table in the foyer.  Jordan becomes the first one to speak.  “Sarah and I were talking,” she says.  “And I think we figured it out.”  

Rachel feels her stomach churn.  She’s not as careful with her sisters as her mom.  She never has been.  “Figured what out?”

“It’s okay.”  Jordan clutches her comic book a little more closely, expression solemn.  “We won’t tell Mom.”

Rachel crosses her arms.  “Won’t tell her what, exactly?”

Jordan thrusts the comic book at Rachel.  The cover shows a girl—Buffy Summers, judging by the title—holding a wooden stake in one hand and a sword in the other, her blond hair whirling around her as she thrusts the sword at a spike-covered greyish creature in the corner of the frame.  

Rachel takes a step back from the comic, not sure whether to laugh or to cry.  

“It explains everything.  Where you sneak out to almost every night.  Why you’ve got blood under your fingernails half the time when you get home.  Why you’ve got a secret boyfriend who only comes out at night—”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” Rachel says reflexively.

Jordan nods, eyes wide.  “Uh-huh.  So you definitely weren’t seen by half the school at last week’s dance with a mysterious guy who has blond hair and is never seen around town.  You don’t have a boyfriend, even though I’ve heard people talking in your room in the middle of the night.  And you always leave your window open, even—especially—when it rains.  Almost like you’re waiting for a secret vampire boy—”

Rachel snorts a laugh.  “Tobias isn’t a vampire.”

Which has exactly the opposite effect than the one she intended.  “Oh my god,” Jordan whispers.  “Tobias as in that guy who disappeared last year? Everyone thought he died—” She gasps.  “Unless he did die.  And now he’s back!”

Much as Rachel wants to laugh and keep laughing until she falls over, she understands that this conversation actually has serious implications.  With effort she sobers herself.  “Look,” she says at last.  “There are things… Things I can’t tell you.  You wouldn’t be safe if I did.”  

She looks Jordan in the eye.  Jordan is taking this conversation seriously—probably more seriously than Rachel herself, for that matter.  “I understand,” Jordan says.  

“As soon as…”  As soon as the war’s over.  “As soon as it’s safe.  I’ll tell you everything.  Right now, there are things I can’t talk to you, or to Mom, about.  But someday I will.  I promise.”  Rachel can’t be more honest than that.  

“Okay.”  Jordan bites her lip.  “I just wanted you to know your secret’s safe with me.  And if you ever need help, like, hiding a body…”

Rachel smiles, overwhelmed with fondness.  “Thanks.”  She yawns.  “Now, if it’s all right with you, Dawn…”

Jordan makes a face.  

“I’m wiped, so I’m going to bed.”  She walks past Jordan and up the stairs to her room.  

“Rachel!”

She turns around.  Jordan is standing at the bottom of the stairs, hugging her comic book against her chest with both hands.  

“On the show,” she says haltingly.  “They say a lot about how slaying’s a dangerous job.  About how most slayers don’t live to be twenty.”  There’s real fear in her eyes, as she looks up at her sister.  

Rachel grins, tossing her hair over her shoulder.  “Really, Jordan, you should learn not to believe everything you see on TV.  After all, it’s just a show.  No vampire’s gonna take me down.”  

****************************

“You know, my sister thinks you’re William the Bloody.”

«Who’s that, a spokesman for Kotex?»

***************************

She doesn’t get much input on the actual headstone; she’s too young for that.  She does, however, manage to put in a special request for the plaque on the statue they erect outside of Washington D.C., a proud grizzly bear rearing up to defend the Capitol.  

Rachel Daniella Berenson, the plaque reads.  She saved the world.  A lot.  

Anonymous asked: Okay, so, I'm a senior in college and I have zero free time to actually find fics my own damn self, so I was wondering if you had any recs for Buffy/Angel fics? (I have some issues with Buffy/Spike for personal reasons, but it's the most popular ship and wading through it is just kind of exhausting, you know? Like, no judgement, but I can't do the ship, and it takes FOREVER to find Buffy/Angel stuff.)

snarkyeloquence:

okay, i’m SO SO sorry this took a hundred years. like i said, i wanted to make sure to give more than just a few recs. they’re all bangel, set during various seasons. hope you like them!! 

had to put it under a read more because it got longer than i thought it would

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Anonymous asked: I just saw your gifset of Xander being an A+ friend to Buffy re: Willow's "advice" about Angelus and was reminded that I am eternally fuming about it, oh my God, I am so cranky about Xander at all times, do you have a rant? Because I am in the mood to listen to a rant.

snarkyeloquence:

when i rant it tends to get a little a lot scattered but YES I COULD because ugh xander harris. warning: possibly much repetitiveness and very little sense coming up. this got a liiiitle out of control

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