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#maybe ill rewrite this coherently another time but i know if i drop it in the drafts it iwll never escape. so instead im publically weird
tsurangaconundrum · 3 years
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for all that juno steel and dean winchester are mirrors. are parallel characters. they have the opposite problem with their parents in a way that makes me froth at the mouth. dean winchester can’t stop putting his parents on a pedestal, can’t stop seeing the humanity in his dad. meanwhile juno only saw the monster in his mother, condemning her. it’s SOOO interesting because like. they both struggle with becoming their parents and with finding traits of their parents bad, but dean (for all that he condemns himself) justifies his father, while juno condemns his mother WITH himself. like in this singular respect i would call dean benzaitencoded, except that juno is definitely dean if john had actually shot sam (which is a whole other post. but.) maybe the point is juno is less repressed than dean? able to let his feelings out, hate his mother, which is still a thing he had to work through, but different than the dichotomy that dean exists within? it really is absolutely no looking at the pieces of yourself hours in dean winchesters mind. the cognitive dissonance is so insane. this is all to say that sam can should must do the monster’s reflection monologue if supernatural was good. instead because they didn’t commit to sam being like john and it would feel wishy washy, while dean has to do double time and have the absolute cognitive dissonance of hating his father’s traits and forgiving his father. 
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queenof-literature · 3 years
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A Sick Wild Child - Chapter 10
Chapter 10 - Cold
Aaaand we're back! Sorry for the long wait, college is wack.
Uhh big angst warning for this chapter. I can't really tell if this is angstier than the rest of the chapters? But the warning is there.
As I said earlier, I am going to be rewriting this fic as I add to it. Nothing major will change, but I kinda cringe a little when I read back on it because I feel like my style has developed more as I've written.
Ao3 Link:
I hope y'all enjoy!
The rustling of the leaves above were the loudest sound Warriors heard outside camp. Between the soft snores of his companions, the distant flowing stream, and the cackling of the fire, perhaps he should have let himself relax, if only a little. Being as rigid as a board would do no one any good if monsters came, yet Warriors could not force himself to relax. Strained eyes jumped between the other Links, the world outside their overhang, and the only other two not resting.
Whatever allowed Wild to be semi-coherent hours ago had faded as night went on, stuttering chest still rising and falling roughly. 
Twilight hadn’t left Wild’s side, still holding tightly to the boy’s clammy hand. Warriors let out a sigh, trying to force some tension from his shoulders as he stood, slowly making his way over. 
“You need to get some sleep.” Warriors settled next to him, still keeping a sharp ear out for potential monsters. He had made the mistake of letting down his guard, and he wouldn’t do it again.
“I’ll sleep after your watch.” Twilight was lying, and they both knew it.
“You make fun of Time for taking on too much, but you’re the same damn way.” Warriors huffed.
“Pot, meet kettle.” Twilight snarked and Warriors rolled his eyes at yet another dumb country metaphor. “Besides, be careful what you say, Old Man is probably listening.”
“It’d be hard not to with how loud you two are.” A voice said from Time’s bedroll.
“Sorry, Time.” Warriors and Twilight spoke in unison, chuckling lightly when they heard a tired sigh and grumbling.
“Any signs of Wild waking up again?” Warriors nodded towards Wild’s restless form, keeping his voice far lower.
“Nah. I wouldn’t be so worried if he was getting some actual sleep.” As if sensing his name Wild shifted once again, letting out unidentifiable croaks and murmurs. Twilight stroked his thumb across the back of Wild’s pale hand in an attempt to soothe him once more.
“Yeah…” Warriors spoke awkwardly. “The worst will be over soon, then he’ll be able to start healing. Hylia knows Legend and Hyrule are going to shove a rainbow of potions down his gullet when he can handle it.” Warriors joked, feeling success at the small chuckle he received from the other young man.
“I know he’ll be okay, but…” Twilight trailed off, looking down once more at his protege
“Yeah, it’s hard to see him like this.” Warriors nodded.
“Well yeah but I’m worried for what comes after.” Twilight’s eyes still hadn’t met his.
“What do you mean?”
“When he comes to, how much of these nightmares is he going to remember? Some are fake, but his brain is already… addled.” Twilight said for lack of a better word.
“You’re worried about the memories.” Warriors understood now.
“Yeah. He doesn’t remember anything besides a few memories, I’m worried the real ones will mix with the fake ones and just confuse him more.” Warriors hadn’t even thought of that.
“He’ll be okay once he’s aware enough to talk them through, that’s always seemed to help him in the past.” Warriors reassured, clamping a head on his companion’s shoulder. “I know there’s a lot in the air right now, but we need to focus on the now. We’ll deal with the future when we get there.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks War.” Twilight smiled at his companion, finallying meeting his eyes. Both settled in against the wall, taking comfort in the other’s presence. 
~
Cold, scared, confused. Fear struck his heart when he felt the familiar emotions, among others he couldn’t name. His lungs spasmed, and he felt himself cough roughly. Drowning… was he drowning? He didn’t feel wet, water meant drowning… right? Something warm and gentle slid across his hand and he shivered. What was touching him? Was it bad?
No… cold was bad, warm was good, or so he thinks. Yes that seems right. And what was touching him was warm so he could trust it. Yeah, that logic made sense.
Something was wrong though, he shouldn’t be feeling this way. This wasn’t normal. He tried to open his eyes. Wait, when did those get there? He had a body, and bodies had names. Did he have a name? Whatever was blocking his eyes refused to budge, or perhaps it wasn’t even trying. He felt his ears flicker when a noise drew close to him, and the warmth caressing his hand paused. No, don’t stop! He cried out, or he thought he did.
The warmth moved from his hand, allowing the cold to flood back, and he tried to cry out, he wanted to be warm he didn’t want to be cold. He relaxed once more when the warmth moved under his eye, under his eye… his cheek. The hand pushed into the skin of his cheek softly, and he tried to focus on what he heard above him, but he couldn’t push down his panic. What was his name? Everyone had a name, what was his name?
The warmth, which he now recognized as a hand, pushed his cheek with more intent, the noises growing louder. But he couldn’t focus on that, he could only focus on the empty space where his name, his very identity should be. What was his name? Everything would be okay if he could just remember his damn name-
“Wild?” A voice echoed above him, snapping him back from his spiral. Wild… that didn’t sound quite right, but it certainly didn’t sound wrong, and he clinged to it. Wild, Wild, Wild. That was him! 
“Wild?” Another voice asked, and Wild was sure it was a different one. The hand patted his cheek, and Wild felt his nose scrunch. He didn’t like that.
 “Wild? Are you awake? Can you open your eyes?” Wild’s ears perked at the tone, an odd mix of hope and concern. Now out of his spiral, Wild tried once more to open his eyes. Shutting them tightly once more when light assaulted his vision. He felt his head being turned, vertigo crashing into him, only relaxing when his nose brushed against something slightly course but soft.
“Try again.” The voice coaxed. Wild was skeptical, but did as he was told. With great strength, Wild peeled open his eyes. Even after his eyelids revealed the world around him he couldn’t see right away, it took a while for his vision to clear, yet the voice never grew impatient. He felt heat to his back, and it felt like a fire. Maybe that’s what was so bright. After the fuzziness finally faded, Wild could see he was facing a chest, but it looked odd. There was something missing around the shoulders...
“There he is.” The other voice proclaimed quietly.
“How are you feeling, Cub?” Wild felt the chest he was facing vibrate as the person spoke. Cub… cub.
“Tw’ligh?” Wild slurred, wincing at the dryness of his throat.
“Yeah, Cub.” Wild looked up at the face above him, who looked positively elated for some reason. Wild finally realized why the man looked so off, the usual pelt wrapped around his shoulders was gone. Wild glanced around, eyes slow and fluttering. After looking down he finally realized it was covering him instead. 
Wild tried to blink away the fog. That wasn’t right, this was Twilight’s pelt. Oh no, did Wild steal it? That wasn’t very nice…   
“Wild?” The other voice washed over him once more, and Wild realized it had probably been a while since he had responded.
“War?” Wild recognized the bright blue scarf, and the eyes that matched. The fog was slowly receding from his mind, but annoyingly stuck around the edges.
“That’s me.” Warriors confirmed with a fond smirk. “How are ya feeling?”
Wild didn’t know how to answer that. Everything hurt, his muscles felt heavy and useless, his head pounded, his throat was on fire… worst of all…
“Cold.” Wild rasped, trying to bury his face into the chest beside him, enjoying the rumble he felt and the sound of a fond chuckle.
“Sorry, Wild. Your fever hasn’t broken yet, we can’t let you get too hot.” Twilight really did sound sorry, but that doesn’t sound right. Fever means hot.
“Cold.” Wild stressed again, his small movement sending a spike of pain around his ribs. “Hurts.” Wild whimpered at the aches and pain that surrounded his body, especially his ribs. 
“I know, Cub. It’ll get better soon.” Twilight promised.
“How?” How did he know that? Wild didn’t understand. Goddesses, it felt like he was dying-
Wild froze at that thought. No, no Twilight would tell him. Twilight wouldn’t be so happy, he wouldn’t. The conversation continued as Wild’s world was crashing down on him.
“Your fever hasn’t broken, but it is getting cooler.” An optimistic voice continued, not noticing his panic. Why were they so calm? Wild was dying, he was dying! He felt his breaths get more labored, only sending further panic shooting through him. No, he needed to breathe, breathing meant life and Wild was alive he wasn’t dead he was alive-
“-we’ll fix it, Wild, I promise.” Wild tuned in once more and his heart lurched. Fix it? No, no , no, nononono. 
“N-no!” Wild cried out, trying to sit up.
“Woah!” Warriors bolted forward to keep Wild from agitating his illness further. They just got water in his system, they didn't want him to throw it back up now.
“Tw-i. Don’t. P-please don’t.” Wild pleaded.
“Don’t what? Cub we’re not going to do anything.” Twilight’s voice tried to be calm, but the underlying panic only sent Wild further into his spiral. Twilight knew and he was hiding it! The shrine… not the shrine.
“Na- the shrine. P-please. Anythin’ but the shrine. Just let me go.” Wild begged, coughing roughly at the end. Twilight felt his chest grow cold and his stomach drop. ‘Let me go’, ‘No more shrine’, Twilight felt lightheaded. He knew what it meant. Let me die. 
“No, no Cub, you’re not hurt. Not badly, you’ll recover.” Twilight tried to reassure but Wild was too far gone.
“Hey, hey.” Wild felt a different pair of hands on his cheeks, calloused from constant swordsmanship, but impossibly gentle. “Calm down.” Warriors soothed, brushing aside Wild’s bangs. No! He didn’t understand. He couldn’t do it, not again. He couldn’t wake up with nothing but a name he didn’t recognize, cold, hungry, scared, alone. 
“No shrine, nothing like that. We’re staying right here.” Warriors comforted. Wild shook his head, ignoring the nausea it brought. They didn’t understand, he would forget again. He would forget again. Zelda, the Champions, Riju, Teba, Yunobo, Sidon, the Links. All of them.
“Wild.” Twilight’s voice was soft, but stern, demanding Wild’s attention. “Wild look at me.” A hand took his chin, and he was met with dark blue eyes swirling with intense emotions, half of which Wild couldn’t name. “We’re staying right here. We’re nowhere near the shrine. You’re just sick, you’ll get better, on your own.” Twilight specified, rambling in the hopes that Wild would finally understand. Twilight felt his chest loosen when Wild calmed down slightly. 
Twilight wouldn’t lie about that, Wild could trust him. 
“No shrine?” Wild confirmed.
“No shrine.” Twilight put on his most reassuring smile, covering his turmoil at Wild’s earlier words.
“Never. Promise.” Wild demanded in the most stern tone he could muster, and judging by Twilight’s shaky smirk he didn’t do a very good job. 
“I promise, Cub.”
“Yeah, Hylia knows we wouldn’t even know how to work it- ouch! What it’s true.” Wild tried to laugh at the indignant noise, but all that came out was a coughing fit. He still didn’t understand what was going on, but there was no rush or panic or shouting. It wasn’t like the first time. There were no lasers, or carnage, or desperate screaming.
“Okay, that’s enough.” Twilight deemed after Wild’s fit had passed. “You need more rest.” Wild shook his head. He wanted to stay here, away from the things he sees when he closes his eyes. It was nice here, the fog was finally parting and if he went to sleep it would surround him again.
“Yes, Wild.” Wild heard Warriors laugh at Twi’s exasperated tone.
“No.” Wild commanded, well aware of how much he sounded like a petulant child.
“Wild, we’ll be right here. You need sleep. Real sleep.” Wild shook his head again.
“I’d be careful. Mama bear is ready to knock you out.” Warriors teased, yelping when Twilight used his free arm to smack his shoulder.
“Wild, I swear to Hylia, you are going to sleep.” Twilight threatened. Wild huffed. Fine. Wild lifted a shaky and weak hand from under the pelt, pausing to rest the limb above the covers. Slowly he lifted his left hand, barely reaching his target. He swatted uselessly at Twilight’s chest, trying to find a grip. Finally he managed to snag onto the older’s tunic, just above his heart.
“What are you doing?” Twilight chuckled, all ire forgotten at the Cub’s clumsy actions. This would be the hard part. Wild prepped himself, before putting all his strength into his left arm and pulling himself up as far as possible. Even the simple motion of pulling himself up was like climbing a mountain, all his stamina depleted by the time he put his plan into action as his ribs jolted and burned. His world twisted and swirled as dizziness washed over him, his head feeling light and his eyes watering.
“Wild!” Twilight yelped in surprise, hopefully not waking the camp. Automatically his arms flew around Wild to catch the boy now cradled to his chest. “What the hell are you doing?” Twilight asked again, far more bafflement and scolding in his tone. Wild stubbornly shoved his head into the crook of Twilight’s neck, breathing hard. Nausea surrounded him and his aching muscles cramped and twitched. Twilight winced as Wild coughed directly into his throat. Good things this wasn’t contagious.
“You can’t do that! You can’t push your body like that!” Twilight scolded, his words contradicted his actions as he rubbed soothing circles into Wild’s back.
“I mean, you could have asked.” Warriors agreed, smirking at the scene before him now that Wild seemed to be recovering from his little stunt.
“Stay.” Wild demanded, gripping Twilight’s shirt as the other was cradled to his own chest uselessly. His body had no more energy left to spare and he relied completely on Twilight to keep him from falling.
“I’m right here.” Twilight’s exasperated tone morphed more into confusion. Twilight wasn’t getting it. He was warm. Wild was so cold, and he wanted to be warm. Even if that meant soaking up heat from Twilight like a lizard did on a sunny rock.
“Warm.” Wild’s lips twisted into a crooked smile, not aware enough to try and make both the scarred and unscarred sides of his face match. Warriors didn’t even hide his fond grin at the cheesy sight before him, and Twilight’s shocked face was certainly a bonus.
“Wild your fever.” Twilight chided nervously, attempting to gently get Wild away from his body heat. Even being in his lap was pushing it, Hyrule told him to be careful before he went to bed.
“Warm.” Wild huffed, annoyed at Twilight moving too much. Twilight glared at the muffled laugh he heard from Warriors. ‘Help me!’ Twilight mouthed, glaring at him as the other just shrugged and smirked. Jackass. Twilight supposed it would be okay for a little bit, but… just until Wild fell asleep. Besides, Twilight couldn’t bring himself to push Wild off with the dopey and lopsided the grin the younger had. Instead Twilight tucked the covers and pelt around him, knowing he made the right choice when Wild sighed happily and burrowed further. It was the most content he had seen Wild in days, and if Hyrule found out Twilight had disobeyed his instructions and kicked his ass, it’d be worth it.
“We can watch his fever. Let him have this.” Warriors confirmed the voice in his head, and Twilight relaxed at the fact someone else agreed, allowing himself to lean against the wall to better support Wild’s weight.
“Yeah, I don’t wanna move him.” Wild made a noise that Twilight could only interpret as agreement, and tried not to laugh and disturb the boy curled into him. 
“He can understand what we’re saying… that has to be progress, right?” Warriors questioned.
“Yeah, but at this point his fever breaking is the best we can hope for.” Twilight responded as he felt Wild succumb to sleep once more. Twilight didn’t want to admit how worried he was that his fever would never break. He knew that Wild would get better, really he did. But Hylia what Wild had said… what would Twilight do if he had the option. If Wild was dying in his arms and he had a choice. If he had a choice between Wild living with no memories, waking up with them all gone, probably long dead, alone and scared. Or letting Wild, his cub, die. Both options almost sent Twilight over the edge of despair just picturing it.
“Stop.” Warriors scolded, eyes peering into him. Twilight snapped out of his thoughts and glanced back in surprise. “I know what you’re dwelling on. Stop it. It won’t help anything.” Warriors’ tone was harsh, but his eyes were compassionate.
“I know but-”
“No buts. It won’t come to that.”
“You don’t know that.” Twilight’s voice cracked ever so slightly. Warriors sighed, of course he didn’t. Of course Twilight wasn’t the only one who thought at night about where this quest could lead.
“None of us do. But focusing on what-ifs, especially insanely specific ones, doesn’t help it just makes us all suffer. All of us, Twilight.” Warriors stressed, relieved at Twilight’s eyes widening, knowing he had gotten through. The words were harsh, but Twilight never listened when it was just his health on the line. He needed to know that watching him go through that hurt, just as it hurt them when one of the other Links were in a pit of anger and hurt.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Twilight squeezed Wild, needing to feel his heartbeat against his own. He focused on the breaths he felt against his neck. They were shallow and rough but they were there.
“Don’t be, I get it.” Warriors assured. “But let's face it if we think about everything that could happen on this crazy fucking quest we’ll be here for weeks.”
“Yeah…” Twilight shifted, ensuring Wild didn’t have too much pressure on his ribs.
“I’ll watch his fever, you need to rest.” Warriors commanded softly.
“You know that’s not happening.” Twilight glared.
“I didn’t ask you to sleep, I asked you to rest. You need it.” Warriors raised a challenging eyebrow, turning concerned when Twilight just nodded.
“Yeah… okay. Just make sure he doesn’t get too hot.” Twilight leaned his head against the rock, shushing Wild when he mumbled and huffed as his pillow moved. Warriors reached over and placed his hand on the cub’s forehead. 
“It’s fine for now.” Warriors smiled, happy the raging fever had dulled, even a little.
Both Warriors and Twilight quieted, and Twilight allowed himself to simply breathe as Warriors kept a sharp eye on the world around them.
 ~~~
Wild is on a mission and no one shall stop him.
Thank you all for reading! I'll update the summary when I rewrite a chapter so you all know.
And thank you all again so much for the support. I love every comment, and I’m so glad so many people enjoy this story!
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snickiebear · 3 years
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My bby 🖤 3, 7, 10, 16, 17!
mittens!!!!!! :)))))))))))
3. Do you write fics from start or finish, or jump around?
i try my best to have one big project going at a time, with maybe some small ones on the side. it would stress me the fuck out if i had like more than one major serious project open at a time cause i’d have to split myself and i dont think thats fair for readers, who won’t get the best quality, and to me because i’m pretty busy in real life (highschool and college kid here folks lmao, i am,,, swamped with so much work, but grind now, earn the fruits of labor later. at least, that’s the theory.)
as for the small ones, ill write self indulgent (well,,, most of the things i write are self indulgent) one-shots just to give myself a break or get something out of my head, which is always nice after making a milestone on a longfic >:)))
7. Which part of writing do you struggle with most?
oh goodness..... it all depends to be honest. i think the hardest part is being in the right mindset for that particular project? for ol&w that fic is particularly dark and severely complex in the sense of the theme, the tone, how the world is built and such, so i have to be in the right mood and mindset to be able to give it justice. 
also, editing. i fucking hate editing. but im also a worrier and have posting anxiety and YET i always have mistakes. at this point i’m like whateva, ill go back and fix it at one point or another, as long as its digestible, you know? i’m just lucky i have a dear friend who loves me enough to read through my brain dump of half coherent thoughts. (fun fact! most of the things i post are the first drafts, i don’t usually rewrite unless i have to or i plain hate it, which isn’t common tbh... which might reflect in my writing but meh)
10. Do you enjoy writing dialogue, exposition, or plot the most?
OOOO GOOD QUESTION!!
its definitely a toss up. writing the intricate nature of the plot is so much fun, all the layers, all the thought, the foreshadowing, the blink and you’ll miss it moments. its so much fun and i definitely rub my hands and laugh evilly whenever i write something so deliciously good.
WORLD BUILDING. that is something i pride myself in. if you ever read ol&w you’ll be able to see it clear cut and shining, or if you read my og work (that i’ll hopefully begin posting in july or so) you’ll see it there. world building is my favorite THING EVER. i LOVE IT. especially fantasy world building because i can make shit up and it be this itty bitty thing and suddenly its HUGE later. god i love it. 
but also, the words that come from the mouth are so precious for the fic. honestly, i wish i was funnier to where i could write witty dialogue, but alas, i’ve always been the “much too serious mom friend” so i always end up with a bit darker dialogue, though i do love it. 
my favorite thing is writing light hearted dialogue and fluffy plotlines and having underlying tension and down right ugliness to it. blink, my loves, and you’ll miss it. ;))
16.  What is your most underrated fic?
ooo hmm, let me think tbh 
in my opinion, it would be a cocoon in the heart, a spark in the brain because i love leesaku. so much. and here i got to write them in my fav little way, a little sad and a bit raw. 
OR god’s pity (also, any fic in so come meet me in the garden (where the angels sing),,, i love those fics so much). GOD’S PITY WAS MY FAV from shikasaku week. i was so excited to share that one, its my favorite. any and all subs in that shikasaku series im super proud of and really love and i really do wish more people would read them :’’’’)
17. What fic are you most proud of?
most definitely of love and war (for now at least lmao) because of the amount of planning and world building and what im doing to the characters. im having so much fun driving everyone insane... corruption arcs are my favorite.
the intimacy of being understood, my first fic on here! took me like a good month and a half to write that sucka, my first child. i really love it tbh, my first dip into the naruto pool ;))
a drop of power (there is an ocean), something i wrote for ks month and through writer’s block that i love with all my heart. its funky and messy and i love my word play and phrasing in this one. its a lil serious, its a lil fluffy, its a lil sad. 
OR you taught me how to miss behave; a birthday gift for @elenorie, the actual love of my life. i love the stark contrast between the “poetry” and then the actual fic, that combo of sickly fluff and looming seriousness. 
MITTENS THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING!!! you know i absolutely LOVE hearing from you and picking your brain!!!! 
pick my brain, lets see what we find
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cosmictuesdays · 4 years
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So many different places to call home.
I've threatened, and since had requested, that I write up my notes and thoughts on how I'd redo Angel the Series season 5. I already largely outlined them in an email a while back, which simplifies the process considerably. That, and borrowing the good ideas Ginger sent back in her response to that email, I figure tonight might as well be the night for it. I wouldn't redo all five seasons of the show, because I'd rather not rewrite the whole thing from scratch. I'd rather focus on theoretical alterations of certain parts of season 5 for greater narrative coherence. While this does keep some of Whedon's ass-butt decisions, I've been in enough fandoms for enough time to learn how to focus my energy. All right, that's not entirely true. In this version that lives in my head, there'd be a few lines, and possibly a couple of scenes, about Fred moving into Cordelia's apartment in season 4. Then: Spike comes out of the amulet whole, intact, and corporeal at the end of episode 1. Because they didn't do anything worthwhile with it, getting rid of the concept of a vampire ghost smooths things out considerably. Spike spends a good chunk of episode 2 rallying on about making a grand romantic entrance back into Buffy's life, but then something happens, the sort of thing which compels him to be a white hat that has nothing to do with Buffy and all of the work he has to do to grow into his soul, and he realizes that he's got more to do that has nothing to do with her. The final scene of the episode has him showing up in Angel's office: "You're still here," Angel says. "Today, anyway," Spike replies.
"Destiny" is moved to the third episode of the season, where W&H try to pit the two known heroic souled vampires against each other in a bid to simplify possible destines and prophecies. It doesn't work. Spike growing into his soul - the soul he earned, not the soul he was cursed with - would make for a solid ongoing plot thread through the season, in conversation with, and contrast and counterbalance to, Angel's own journey.
The fourth episode has Xander come to collect Spike at the behest of Buffy, all remaining Slayers and Watchers, and the Scooby Gang, which covers the full cold open. Buffy sent Xander specifically because she knows they can't tempt him with anything. Additionally, framing Xander through the eyes of AtS would show what surviving growing up on the Hellmouth and several years of constant apocalypses would do to an ordinary person, which would honestly be pretty fun to see. Lilah Morgan: "Mr. Harris -" Xander: "No, no, please, Mr. Harris was my father." [Lilah smiles. Xander smiles back, sharply.] "You can call me 'sir.'" [Lilah stops smiling.] Because after the Hellmouth, the ordinary human evil of W&H is small potatoes to Xander. He'd comment that as evil as they are, they want the world to stick around to be evil in, and that's almost relaxing to have to deal with. "You guys, seriously, small potatoes, you don't even want to end the world! It's nice, really. Nobody wanting to eat the sun, nobody wanting to make literal Hell out here, just keep on being evil. I can respect that. I don't support it and would rather see all of you give this up and go join a commune up in Petaluma, but I can respect it." I assume the rest of episode 4 is either filler, as was the case with the Mexican wrestler episode, or it's where we get the werewolf girlfriend. "Damage" is next - the one with Dana, the mentally ill Slayer. Spike's sent to Los Angeles to collect her, along with Andrew and a few other Slayers, and gets his hands cut off for his troubles. They're reattached, and the next episode has him stationed at W&H by Buffy to openly spy on the place. Angel is fine with this. "It means she still cares." "That you're head honcho of Evil Inc." "Yeah, but if she didn't care, she wouldn't send you to spy on me." "I'm spying on W&H." "She still cares." "No she doesn't." And so on and so forth, etc cetera, ad infinitum, ad nauseam. Because the two of them are best when the show remembers they're family. Spike doesn't have the weird sub-plot with the Doyle faker, though Lindsay still tries to play the part. It doesn't work, and he's caught almost immediately, which shifts the power dynamics around enough to give Spike a good amount of stuff to do. Spike's also given freedom to go wherever he wants, and hang out all over the place, and Angel sometimes helps him edit his weekly reports to Buffy in case he missed anything. Everyone knows why Spike is there. This is played for both comedy and drama, because he and Angel grow closer as they keep talking to each other over the course of the season. So we still get moments like "wee little puppet man" and Spike freeing Angel from the parasite that trapped him in those hallucinations because he doesn't care about Angel's privacy. Those kinds of delicious relationship moment which show them as being genuinely close in a way that can't easily be translated to human terms, but the viewing audience easily understands. Out of everyone in the world, they're the ones best qualified to call each other out on their bullshit and when they're indulging their inner blowhard. (Spike leans towards the bullshit, Angel towards being a blowhard. "I know for a fact you spent that decade moping in disco halls." "It was only thirty minutes, and there was just the one werewolf.") "Hell Bound" - the only Angel episode aired with a warning for graphic violence - still happens. It's because of Fred. At some point, someone - possibly Xander, when he collects Spike, or possibly Andrew, when he drops by - comments how few ghosts there are around W&H. How little spirit energy. Magic energy, yes, but the spirits are weak, and few and far between. Unrelated to that, Fred invents some sort of machine to help Phantom Dennis manifest, because they've become friends since she moved into the apartment. It's one of those "gone horribly right" situations, because instead of Spike fighting Pavayne, it's Dennis. He makes Pavayne corporeal at the sacrifice of being able to return to life. He does get a moment of Fred seeing his face, and them being able to smile at each other, before he's whisked off back to the apartment - if he doesn't finally move on from being a ghost and goes into the rest of the afterlife. The back end of the season plays out much as it already did. There'd be a few more lines, here and there, giving reasons and justifications and explanations for why Buffy isn't contacted for whatever reason, and why they're not asking the Slayers for help for one disaster or another. Maybe "they won't get here in time," maybe "they have their own apocalypse," maybe "I have to do this alone and if I come out of it, I'll go see her because I'm Angel and that's what I do." "The Girl in Question" has its plots swapped, so more time is spent on Fred/Illyria and Wesley, and less on Spike and Angel in madcap hijinks in Italy. Also, no Immortal, no casual racism, no Andrew with a bunch of women, no Buffy decoy/fakeout, no explosion destroying Spike's coat. Because this is how I'd do it, and I don't much like any of that. I've read reports Whedon wanted season 6 to be a sort of Mad Max post-apocalyptic scenario, with car chases and big action sequences. I have no plans for season 6, not even theoretical ones. Mostly, I'm fine with Angel being asked how they survived the final battle, and Spike answering, "Heroically!" or "We almost didn't" and not elaborating past that. Because the audience can fill in that part themselves.
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