Firstly is this lovely postcard that Cat sent to me.
Fandom!Whore!.
You can send your own, 'specially personalized postcard here at Tattoodles.com
This slash story is...damn good. And FUN. And a bit sacrilegious, which is why we love it!
It's called In Principio and it's...God and Satan. Yes yes. Just go, read. Nothing like you expect.
Last but not least, a few days ago i posted a new fic, Sweeter Far Than Flowing Honey. I had contemplated doing an epilogue of sorts - something from Xander's POV. And i did! So, here it is.
The title is from a line from The Garden of Proserpine by A.C. Swinburne.
ETA: Thanks to
reremouse for the look-see and the pokage that made this possible! Why, yes, we DO live in each other's pockets!
Sometimes Xander has dreams about the Before. Before he was turned - before he loved Spike. They're not dreams though - they're nightmares, and everything in them is different. Everything is wrong. In the nightmares, he hates with a smoldering, sick hatred. Hates Spike - hates vampires. Hates himself.
It makes him wake with a shout and Spike always grumbles - pulls him down and half-smothers him. Tells him to shut up and go back to sleep and it's all over, pet, all over. And Xander does. But sometimes the nightmares come when he's awake and then they're more like...memories.
Once in Monaco, on the balcony of their hotel room he looked down one story to the street and there was a girl. Small and slender, rich hair a spill of titian silk across spangled shoulders. He'd stared at her - stared hard enough to make the girl look away, uneasy, and to make Spike reach over and take his chin - turn his head so the girl slid away out of his view. And he dreamt, for a moment. Dreamt another girl - pale skin and tears - eyes black as pits. Scratched voice stuttering out words he can't understand and *she's crying don't cry please don't cry*.
"Willow was crying," he said, and Spike leaned back in his chair - lifted a crystal goblet of pale wine and took a slow sip.
"She did that a lot," Spike said, and Xander shook his head slightly.
"No, I mean - that night...she was doing a spell and she was crying and...it made me... It hurt." He looked at Spike and Spike shrugged - extracted a cigarette from his pack and lit it, worn silver Zippo snick-ing quietly open and closed. Hand going back to the goblet and settling there.
"Does it hurt now?" Spike asked, and his bare toes pressed into Xander's ankle - rubbed a little higher and Xander pushed into the caress - reached and touched Spike's fingers where they lay curled loosely around the slim stem of crystal.
"No. It - it used to. I remember it hurting, but now it's like...watching a movie?"
"And not a good one," Spike said, blowing out a thin stream of smoke and Xander laughed.
"Why do the dreams make me cry?" Xander asked once, on the Chunnel train to France. Young couple with backpacks and maps tumbled in limp heaps in the bottom bunk - he and Spike in the top, wrapped in blankets that smelled of woodsmoke and blood.
"Guess when you're asleep you remember being human better," Spike said after a long pause, and Xander squirmed back against him - blinked once and then again, lids heavy and his belly full of blood.
"Glad I'm not human anymore, then. I don't - like that." Xander snuggled down and tugged the blanket and Spike's hand up higher, tucking them under his chin.
"Not surprised," Spike said sleepily - kissed his temple and settled to sleep.
Another time - a year or so later - they were at a dance-club in Bangkok. Drinking rice brandy and watching a blonde girl dance with a taller, dark companion. Two tourists that stood out in a room-ful of smaller, dark-haired people and Xander had thought the blonde would be fun to take down. Until she turned around, smiling, and memory rolled over him. Bittersweet, grainy from time and disuse.
"She looks like Buffy," Xander said, and Spike slipped off his stool and stood behind Xander - tugged him close and kissed the side of his neck.
"She does at that, pet. You remember her?"
"Oh, sure. Can't forget somebody like Buffy. You... No, you didn't kill her...did you?"
"Not as such," Spike said - whispered in Xander's ear what he did do and Xander sat very still for long minutes after that. Remembering. Remembering that he used to love Buffy - used to want her and...need her. But those feelings - all tangled up with guilt and anger and lust - were nothing compared to what he felt for Spike. Pale scrapings when his love for Spike was - honey-rich. Blood and cream and opium and sometimes he'd just wind himself around Spike and not let go. Weigh him down, tangle him up, breathe and breathe and breathe Spike's scent until he was dizzy with it.
"Never letting you go," he'd whisper, fierce and choked, and Spike would laugh up at him, so beautiful that it made Xander's heart hurt.
"I know you won't, pet."
Fandom!Whore!.
You can send your own, 'specially personalized postcard here at Tattoodles.com
This slash story is...damn good. And FUN. And a bit sacrilegious, which is why we love it!
It's called In Principio and it's...God and Satan. Yes yes. Just go, read. Nothing like you expect.
Last but not least, a few days ago i posted a new fic, Sweeter Far Than Flowing Honey. I had contemplated doing an epilogue of sorts - something from Xander's POV. And i did! So, here it is.
The title is from a line from The Garden of Proserpine by A.C. Swinburne.
ETA: Thanks to
Sometimes Xander has dreams about the Before. Before he was turned - before he loved Spike. They're not dreams though - they're nightmares, and everything in them is different. Everything is wrong. In the nightmares, he hates with a smoldering, sick hatred. Hates Spike - hates vampires. Hates himself.
It makes him wake with a shout and Spike always grumbles - pulls him down and half-smothers him. Tells him to shut up and go back to sleep and it's all over, pet, all over. And Xander does. But sometimes the nightmares come when he's awake and then they're more like...memories.
Once in Monaco, on the balcony of their hotel room he looked down one story to the street and there was a girl. Small and slender, rich hair a spill of titian silk across spangled shoulders. He'd stared at her - stared hard enough to make the girl look away, uneasy, and to make Spike reach over and take his chin - turn his head so the girl slid away out of his view. And he dreamt, for a moment. Dreamt another girl - pale skin and tears - eyes black as pits. Scratched voice stuttering out words he can't understand and *she's crying don't cry please don't cry*.
"Willow was crying," he said, and Spike leaned back in his chair - lifted a crystal goblet of pale wine and took a slow sip.
"She did that a lot," Spike said, and Xander shook his head slightly.
"No, I mean - that night...she was doing a spell and she was crying and...it made me... It hurt." He looked at Spike and Spike shrugged - extracted a cigarette from his pack and lit it, worn silver Zippo snick-ing quietly open and closed. Hand going back to the goblet and settling there.
"Does it hurt now?" Spike asked, and his bare toes pressed into Xander's ankle - rubbed a little higher and Xander pushed into the caress - reached and touched Spike's fingers where they lay curled loosely around the slim stem of crystal.
"No. It - it used to. I remember it hurting, but now it's like...watching a movie?"
"And not a good one," Spike said, blowing out a thin stream of smoke and Xander laughed.
"Why do the dreams make me cry?" Xander asked once, on the Chunnel train to France. Young couple with backpacks and maps tumbled in limp heaps in the bottom bunk - he and Spike in the top, wrapped in blankets that smelled of woodsmoke and blood.
"Guess when you're asleep you remember being human better," Spike said after a long pause, and Xander squirmed back against him - blinked once and then again, lids heavy and his belly full of blood.
"Glad I'm not human anymore, then. I don't - like that." Xander snuggled down and tugged the blanket and Spike's hand up higher, tucking them under his chin.
"Not surprised," Spike said sleepily - kissed his temple and settled to sleep.
Another time - a year or so later - they were at a dance-club in Bangkok. Drinking rice brandy and watching a blonde girl dance with a taller, dark companion. Two tourists that stood out in a room-ful of smaller, dark-haired people and Xander had thought the blonde would be fun to take down. Until she turned around, smiling, and memory rolled over him. Bittersweet, grainy from time and disuse.
"She looks like Buffy," Xander said, and Spike slipped off his stool and stood behind Xander - tugged him close and kissed the side of his neck.
"She does at that, pet. You remember her?"
"Oh, sure. Can't forget somebody like Buffy. You... No, you didn't kill her...did you?"
"Not as such," Spike said - whispered in Xander's ear what he did do and Xander sat very still for long minutes after that. Remembering. Remembering that he used to love Buffy - used to want her and...need her. But those feelings - all tangled up with guilt and anger and lust - were nothing compared to what he felt for Spike. Pale scrapings when his love for Spike was - honey-rich. Blood and cream and opium and sometimes he'd just wind himself around Spike and not let go. Weigh him down, tangle him up, breathe and breathe and breathe Spike's scent until he was dizzy with it.
"Never letting you go," he'd whisper, fierce and choked, and Spike would laugh up at him, so beautiful that it made Xander's heart hurt.
"I know you won't, pet."
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~Nebula
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Thank you!
Better off dead together just sounds...odd.
But i like it.
:)
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That's beautiful:
Pale scrapings when his love for Spike was - honey-rich. Blood and cream and opium and sometimes he'd just wind himself around Spike and not let go. Weigh him down, tangle him up, breathe and breathe and breathe Spike's scent until he was dizzy with it.
And, that's evil but so good:
"Never letting you go," he'd whisper, fierce and choked, and Spike would laugh up at him, so beautiful that it made Xander's heart hurt.
"I know you won't, pet."
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:)
Evil is good sometimes, though, don'tcha think?
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I really liked Sweeter Far Than Flowing Honey. And this just kinda twists that. I mean, yeah! I wnat Xander happy, in love and preferable with Spike, which this does. YAY! But I also want Xander to have chosen that route himself. I can' help but feel bad for him that his feelings are based on a command given to him. *sigh* Ohh, you are so good at the mind screwing. You make us like being unsure.
good stuff, Tabaqui.
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Feeling any better?
And thank you thank you. I like that he dreams and that they confuse him... But that the love makes him happy.
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Spike certainly got the full measure of revenge.
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:)
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I'm a sap, I'm going to read more of Changes now.
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It is, it isn't - it's good for them.
:)
Changes...ah... Need to do more edits on that. If you see any dreadful typos/format thingys, give me a heads up?
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And a delicious epilogue too. Spike has someone to love him forever and he aint never letting that go, and Xander... Xander loves, and even if it was just because of a compulsion placed on him before he was turned, he's doing it, he believes it - that makes it real.
*happy sigh*
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And thank you!
Yeah - just like the BBB ep - love spell! - Willow and everyone BELIEVED.
And that's what counts.
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Hey, by the way, oh Q of E, thanks for the rec. How beautiful and funny and hot that was!
I love you with the passion of a million fiery suns!
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*snerk*
*ahem*
Dude, but...Xander's HAP-py!
Yes yes, isn't that story the best? Love it!
I love you with a million and ONE!
*bounce*
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I lurve your epilogues.
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:)
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Gah, what to say? Perfect epilogue to that story! I really loved how Spike got what he wanted and how Xander's dreams still haunt him....
Brilliant, just brilliant.
Kat Coll
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Thank you thank you thank you - i'm very happy with how both of these turned out.
:)
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Blame reremouse - she's the one that poked me and made me really think about it.
:)
The Garden
You rock as always. :D Dancer
Re: The Garden
Well, i suppose that the spell made him want something that he actually 'hated' but....
Who knows? Being a vamp might have made him like that ANYway. Heh.
But we'll never know.
:)
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:)
*oh, yeah - uh - pet's him*
Heh.
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Sometimes Xander has dreams about the Before. Before he was turned - before he loved Spike. They're not dreams though - they're nightmares, and everything in them is different. Everything is wrong. In the nightmares, he hates with a smoldering, sick hatred. Hates Spike - hates vampires. Hates himself.
It makes him wake with a shout and Spike always grumbles - pulls him down and half-smothers him. Tells him to shut up and go back to sleep and it's all over, pet, all over. And Xander does. But sometimes the nightmares come when he's awake and then they're more like...memories.
That is so dark and beautiful and damnit! I wanna write like you when I grow up!
Once in Monaco, on the balcony of their hotel room he looked down one story to the street and there was a girl. Small and slender, rich hair a spill of titian silk across spangled shoulders. He'd stared at her - stared hard enough to make the girl look away, uneasy, and to make Spike reach over and take his chin - turn his head so the girl slid away out of his view. And he dreamt, for a moment. Dreamt another girl - pale skin and tears - eyes black as pits. Scratched voice stuttering out words he can't understand and *she's crying don't cry please don't cry*.
"Willow was crying," he said, and Spike leaned back in his chair - lifted a crystal goblet of pale wine and took a slow sip.
"She did that a lot," Spike said, and Xander shook his head slightly.
"No, I mean - that night...she was doing a spell and she was crying and...it made me... It hurt." He looked at Spike and Spike shrugged - extracted a cigarette from his pack and lit it, worn silver Zippo snick-ing quietly open and closed. Hand going back to the goblet and settling there.
"Does it hurt now?" Spike asked, and his bare toes pressed into Xander's ankle - rubbed a little higher and Xander pushed into the caress - reached and touched Spike's fingers where they lay curled loosely around the slim stem of crystal.
"No. It - it used to. I remember it hurting, but now it's like...watching a movie?"
"And not a good one," Spike said, blowing out a thin stream of smoke and Xander laughed.
Whoa.
"Why do the dreams make me cry?" Xander asked once, on the Chunnel train to France. Young couple with backpacks and maps tumbled in limp heaps in the bottom bunk - he and Spike in the top, wrapped in blankets that smelled of woodsmoke and blood.
"Guess when you're asleep you remember being human better," Spike said after a long pause, and Xander squirmed back against him - blinked once and then again, lids heavy and his belly full of blood.
"Glad I'm not human anymore, then. I don't - like that." Xander snuggled down and tugged the blanket and Spike's hand up higher, tucking them under his chin.
"Not surprised," Spike said sleepily - kissed his temple and settled to sleep.
How do you set the atmosphere, make it so--I don't know! At a loss for words, here--
How do you make it so full and real and tangible and give it all these deep, dark colors that mesmerize and take hold?
"She looks like Buffy," Xander said, and Spike slipped off his stool and stood behind Xander - tugged him close and kissed the side of his neck.
"She does at that, pet. You remember her?"
"Oh, sure. Can't forget somebody like Buffy. You... No, you didn't kill her...did you?"
"Not as such," Spike said - whispered in Xander's ear what he did do and Xander sat very still for long minutes after that. Remembering. Remembering that he used to love Buffy - used to want her and...need her. But those feelings - all tangled up with guilt and anger and lust - were nothing compared to what he felt for Spike. Pale scrapings when his love for Spike was - honey-rich. Blood and cream and opium and sometimes he'd just wind himself around Spike and not let go. Weigh him down, tangle him up, breathe and breathe and breathe Spike's scent until he was dizzy with it.
"Never letting you go," he'd whisper, fierce and choked, and Spike would laugh up at him, so beautiful that it made Xander's heart hurt.
"I know you won't, pet."
This is just beautiful. I pretty much c&ped the whole damn piece, but the whole damn piece was my favorite part.
Gotta pimp/add to memories.
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Hehe.
Silly.
I'm so glad you liked it - and i have no idea how it is that things come out like they do - i just watch the movie in my head and write.
:)
Thanks, bay-bee, so much.
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Still hurting. But...
I'm glad... Spike made his own Dru, but didn't feel the need to shatter the pieces quite as small. Wiser than his gransire there. Dru didn't have the attention span to be effectively loyal, and I think Xander does.
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Oh yes. Spike has no need for destruction on that level. He just wants someone that's just for him - always and forever.
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Very interesting re-imagining of s5 and the ways in which Spike could have stepped in and twisted the darkness taking over the different characters to his own satisfaction.
And this epilogue works nicely as a reassurance that Xander isn't unhappy most times, that he loves Spike sincerely -- but also conveys effectively that the troubling taint of his former life and former assurances infuses even this newer identity/existence.
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Thank you so much!
I've read a number of 'revenge' fics and most of them are *so* over the top with huge, nasty passages that describe torture and whatnot and I just - didn't want to go there.
I thought instead that Spike would be perceptive enough to glean the worst possible 'thing' and then carry it out. He *did* see how upset Giles was when the 'my will be done' spell took his sight, and helplessnes would be awful for anyone as active and as strong as Buffy... It was fun to come up with the plot. Heh.
Xander's the ultimate revenge. Making him love and need the thing he most despises. And Spike gets a lover/companion who's ten times more loyal than Dru.
Of course, Spike being who he is, he'll fall in love right back, eventually. If he isn't already. Heh.
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beautiful written, as always
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:)
It was awfully fun to write.
It's been a while since i posted that - how'd you come across it?
Just out of curiosity...
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Thanks!