Fic: Yearing. Oh Gods. The Pain.

Title: Yearing. Oh Gods. The Pain.

Fandom: BtVS
Summary: after Ethan has been told that Rupert is dead.

Rating: PG
Concrit: Please, in comments
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, not yet, but they will be... once I've taken over the world! Bwah-ha-ha
Prompt: Keats' The Eve of St. Agnes has the most amazing line: “music, yearning like a God in pain”.

Note: Set in my Lotus in Muddy Water series.

Note: Sequel to Zombies on the Beach.

Note: You might think I used “gone” for “dead” because I watched Hogfather the night before last, but I couldn't possibly comment. ;-)

Word Count: 285

 

Ethan's legs drew him through the sand. He moved slowly and clumsily, as if an external force were dragging him forward. Behind him... Ethan stumbled, half-falling before continuing on. Nothing chased after, but Ethan continued to flee. How long had it been? Minutes? Days? Salt itched his skin where the tears had dried.

 

The sun had risen out over the sea. The sky, bright and blue above him, gave lie to the surrounding fog. There was a thick mist, not quite visible, between Ethan and the world. It pushed everything away, creating such an unimaginable distance that nothing could touch him. He'd left the Slayer and her Watcher behind him. The Watcher who wasn't Rupert. Ethan's legs gave way below him. He fell onto the sand.

 

Rupert was gone. Dead. Gone forever.

 

The first time Ethan had seen him, Ripper had been laughing in delight. Ethan's heart had broken that night. That first Ripper – the one who'd become Ethan's lodestone, always drawing Ethan to him – that Ripper stepped out of the mist but didn't stay. He became another Ripper and then another, shifting from form to form, always Ripper but never the same Ripper. He was the Ripper who'd stared, wide-eyed, after they'd taken ecstasy and fucked till dawn, the Ripper whose face said Ethan was beautiful, was beloved. The Ripper who'd lied. The Ripper who'd abandoned Ethan. The Ripper whose punches, sharp and precise, were more than just physical pain. The Ripper who'd given him to the toy soldier boys. The Ripper he'd loved. Each and every one of them was the Ripper he'd loved.

 

Ethan reached out, yearning. It felt like a knife tearing through his heart. Oh Gods. The pain.

2012 stories

Far fewer stories this year. I've been busy with English classes and also with a novel writing class that runs from October through sometime in the summer. Don't expect a novel out of me anytime soon though. That thing is a huge chaotic mess.

 

BtVS as Dragon's Phoenix

All of these are short – Monster at nine pages is the longest – and most are pure drabbles.

 

I wrote Monster as a sequel to skargasm's FrankenSpike's Creation because I couldn't help wondering how Xander would react once he realized he was a copy created to kill his beloved. I love this story because I think I do a good job of increasing the tension, of ratcheting it up in each chapter.

 

This drabble, based on the prompt of doorway, was me playing with metaphors. I frequently look at Angelus and Darla, and how they might interact with or attack Dru before she was Turned. This isn't one of my better efforts.

 

Playing with metaphors again or at least trying to, I wrote two drabbles playing with the prompt of wind, where Angelus tries to protect Drusilla. You can see why they wanted someone else to take that on.

 

Fireworks, still playing with metaphors, showing Spike yearning for Xander. Because I love Spander. ;-) It has a beautiful last line.

 

Tiny Suns in the Dark also responds to the fireworks prompt. This time Spike tries, not quite successfully, to keep Dru away from sparklers, “those little fireballs that shot off vamp-killing sparks.”

 

Nobody Told Her delves into what Faith was thinking on her way to Sunnydale. I think I got her voice down fairly well and like what I did with this one.

 

Games is basically Buffy and Willow chatting about schoolwork during that time when Buffy has been expelled from school and is waiting to get back in.

 

In Cerebus the Dork, two of the three geeks are being dorky while Warren is acting like a jerk. An Open on Sunday prompt of comic(s) allowed me to reference Cerebus the Aardvark, which I followed avidly in college.

 

In The First of Her White Dresses, a sick Dru explains to Spike why she's started wearing white. I rather like the Dru-logic of it.

 

And I Shall Defend My Queen references so many things: a graphic novel called Hatter M which is loosely based on the Alice in Wonderland books; Joss' Fray!verse since this library is supposed to be the one that Fray finds; Babylon 5 because that bit with the bowler hat is what Lt. Corbin does after the comic duo of Rebo and Zooty visit B5. Not bad for 100 words, huh? And I think I did a great job with Andrew's voice here.

 

Seashell was supposed to be the metaphor but instead Dru sees the tides carrying Spike away. It's a nicely sparse and evocative story.

 

While playing with the nest metaphor I wondered where Drusilla might go after Angelus killed her family but before she chose to join the convent. Suicide's a Sin came out of that.

 

Feeding: This dark!Willow fic references a couple of ideas from the comics, that Willow survives long enough to be in the Fray!verse and that Willow has gone dark. What does Willow do first once magic returns to the world? Aaargh, and I'm kicking myself for not having a gingerbread house on the table at Willow's place!

 

Falling from Darkness to Light is another drabble written to play with a metaphor, falling this time. It looks at the moment Dru realizes that Spike no longer loves her. Nicely done, even if I do say so myself.

 

Dust Drifting Like Snowflakes in the Snowy Wastes: What can I say? I adore writing about the desolation after love has been lost. And I'm very fond of Spander. ;-) The last line is killer, which also makes me happy.

 

By Their Fruits Shall Ye Know Them depicts Wesley's thoughts as he overhears Giles and Buffy choosing to keep the Council out of the loop after Faith had killed Mr. Finch. I tried to suggest that Wesley is more upset that Buffy didn't go to him than he is that they are planning to go around the Council's rules, but I'm not sure how well I pulled it off.

 

In We Have Met the Enemy and He Is Us, I've condensed a series of complex emotions down into a drabble. Yeah me! It's Willow's thoughts the night after Xander's yellow crayon speech has stopped her from destroying the world. The title is based on the comic strip Pogo.

 

With Lighting the Tree I was going for a drabble but couldn't condense it down enough. This was my Solstice story for 2012. A happy Giles/Ethan moment. And the ending is nicely ambiguous – but still happy either way you look at it – which makes me happy.

 

Squee!!! Zombies on the Beach is so much fun! In a drabble, two characters – both Faith and Ethan – have arcs. You learn that Ethan had staged a zombie attack and that Giles is dead. I love how much I crammed into this little story. *does happy dance*

 

The title for Plummeting from the Nest comes from a Babylon 5 episode. After Vir has been discovered helping Narns escape, Londo tells that some birds fly from the nest but that Vir has plummeted, fallen on his beak, and needs to helped gently back into the nest. The story suggests that Wesley is such an ass when he first gets to Sunnydale because he knows he's not prepared to be a Watcher.

 

VelvetWhip asked ShakenSilence for an Angel rapes Willow story. I, who tend to write my more violent stories when I'm upset, heard about the request shortly before holiday stress kicked in. Since I really can't see Angel – not Angelus – raping Willow, I played up the guilt side of things in With My Thoughts Wandering In the Dark.

 

Since I just finished writing Yearning. Oh Gods. The Pain., I'm too close to the story to say if it's good or bad. This sequel to Zombies on the Beach depicts Ethan shortly after he's learned that Giles is dead.

 

BtVS as Lucy Ash

This is where my dirty, bad, wrong stories live.

 

A Bad Influence remix - Part 1, Part 2 - plays with a story written by Hello Spikey. The original is better than mine.

 

Original

Shattering Like Broken Glass is a response to the prompt of plastic, although the metaphor I play with here is glass. I was thinking of how the glass windows of my childhood sparkled when struck by sunlight, unlike the less breakable plastic windows we have today. I have no idea where the priest or the assassin came from.

2012 stories

LJ's updated editor isn't cooperating with me lately so this year's summary is posted on DreamWidth.