I may be Love's bitch

but at least I'm man enough to admit it


From now on, we're gonna have a little less ritual...and a little more fun around here.

Tag: bloodyfoolforlove

((This is a roleplay blog))

Sunnydale kinda reminds me of home.


It’s ok. Everyone thinks I’m fragile. And I know you wouldn’t bite me, even if you were hungry. I trust you, Spike.


Hmm, you’re right, it could expla-… OH! That helps. Thank you so much Spike! You’re amazing.

I…I didn’t really do anythin’, but yeah, I’m amazing.

So I take it you’re still workin’ with Angel then. He got you on any major cases right now?

Bloody Memories ((Spangel RP))


The scent of his grand-chile was the first thing to hit him. Spike was here? He hadn’t expected the younger vamp to show up, but the older master didn’t let it fluster him. Spike was always the same, angry especially at him. When the door slammed open the vampire didn’t even flinch. Angel did look up when Spike spoke, the words making Angel want to growl. What the hell gave Spike the right to call it his town anyway. He was the older vampire, and his grand-sire at that! A retort was on the tip of his tongue, but he remained silent, sipping on his blood-wine. 

The older vampire could remember a time when Spike would curl up in his lap in front of the fire, feed from his neck, and watch as Dru played with their latest dinner. It had been bliss…but now….Angel shook off the thought finishing his glass and pouring another.

He was tired and he wasn’t in any mood to fight, especially not with Spike. Angel glared at him for a moment then nodded to a chair. “I’m not in your anything Spike. I’m in Sunnydale to help with Wolfram and Hart, and to help Buffy that’s it. If you want a fight go look for it elsewhere. If you want to sit and talk, there is a two hundred dollar of scotch on the bar I got for you. Pour yourself a glass and sit down.” The last few words came out as a soft growl and Angel had to force his demonic side back down.

Scoffing, Spike put both hands on his hips and glared at Angel from across the room. Sunnydale damn well was his town and everyone from miles away knew it. Well, technically, it was Buffy’s town, but Angel was the one who left in the first place, which meant it was more Spike’s than any other vampire with a soul’s.

"Here to help Buffy?" the tone in his voice shifted. "The Slayer doesn’t need your help and if you’re plannin’ on comin’ in and swoopin’ her off her feet, then you’re bloody wrong."

He huffed and folded his arms over his chest, the leather of his jacket rubbing together. Spike wasn’t sure how to talk to Angel these days without huffing and puffing about who was the better man for the job, for having a soul, for Buffy, or even for just existing. Back when they had been younger vampires, Spike and Angel were the best of friends, even more. They shared everything and it had been the closest thing Spike had to family since his time living with his mother. When Angel offered the scotch, a seemingly sincere and thoughtful gesture (as long as it wasn’t poisoned), Spike very much wanted to accept. Sure, the offer came with a bite and a growl, and he recognized it as Angel trying to assert his dominance, but Angel wouldn’t be himself if that tone wasn’t there.

Sauntering over to the chair which the other vampire had pointed to, Spike gave in and sat down, grabbing the bottle of scotch before he got comfortable. “I’ll sit down an’ talk, but only ‘cause of the alcohol.”

Bloody Memories ((Spangel RP))


Angel looked over the large chest of goods he had gathered through the years. Even after loosing his first office to Wolfram and Hart, the older vampire still had more than a few things he had carted with him. Smiling at a few of the memories they brought up Angel reached into the chest and pulled out one of Dru’s dolls. He fingered the delicate lace and rich velvet. He remembered her pressing this into his hands as he was forced to leave. Next was a worn leather volume and a lock of light brown hair. William. 

He pulled the hair to his nose smiling at the scent. His grand-childe was so changed from the blundering poet that Drusilla had turned. The anger…the hatred the vamp had for him. Pushing the thought away after it made his heart clenched. He pulled out the few other things of Spike….including the few drawings that the older vamp had done of him.

Setting it all aside he grabbed a bottle of blood-spiked wine before settling on the couch in the dark. 

It started days ago when Spike had met Fred downtown and she informed him of Angel’s return to Sunnydale. Since then, all Spike could think about when he wasn’t preoccupied with fighting the demons that came into his cemetery and ways to make things right with the blasted Scooby Gang, was his grand sire. At any minute Angel could swoop in with his big forehead and broad shoulders to tell Spike this and that about redemption, good versus evil, or whatever his newest kick was these days. It was driving him mad, really, knowing that the two of them were in Sunnydale. After just a couple days, Spike couldn’t take it anymore. He had to go see him.

Finding Angel wasn’t difficult, especially in a town like Sunnydale. Spike knew as soon as the Hyperion was cleared out downtown, something big was moving in, yet he hadn’t imagined it would be everyone’s beloved dark avenger with a new branch of Angel Investigations.

After the sun had gone down and dusk’s typical haze filled the night sky, Spike left his crypt and began making his was to the hotel. He wondered if there would be security; maybe Angel had some lackeys doing the dirty work for him and keeping it safe. He wondered if Fred, Wes, Gunn and Cordelia would be there. Would they kick him out as soon as he set foot in the door? As he approached the front entrance, Spike grabbed the handles and pulled open the door, walking right in, his leather coat swishing by his legs. To his surprise, it was mostly empty in the lobby.

Spike sucked in a deep breath through his nose, picking up the familiar scent of the other vampire. He followed it up the stairs and into a long hallway. The scent ended at a closed door, and not caring about manners or decency, Spike burst it open, walking right in.

"Alright, you big poofter, what the bloody hell are you doing in my town?”

Chance Encounter // Topher & Spike


His hands clutched tightly to the box of belongings in his lap, Topher stared nervously out the cab window as it wound it’s way through Sunnydale. With Bennett sharing his lab now, Topher was forced to clear out some of his personal possessions to make room, hence the impromptu trip to the great outdoors. 

Lurching forward as the taxi made a sudden stop, Topher threw his hands up to catch himself. 


"Hey! What-"

Suddenly, the cab door flung open and a dirty, smoking, person-shaped blanket clambered into the empty seat beside Topher. Once the door was shut, the cab driver continued as if nothing happened, leaving Topher half cowering on his side of the cab, thoroughly confused. 

Running through the alleyway between the Hardware store and Sun Cinema, Spike carried his brown burlap blanket over his head, clenching to the corners for dear life. It was sunnier in those corridors than he expected, having always gone through them in the dark shadows of the night. As he reached the end, Spike could feel the top of his fingers and the ends of his hair begin to smoke.

Seeing a Sunnydale cab drive slowly down main street, he took that as his perfect opportunity for escape. Sure, he was on his way to the Magic Box, but that trip could wait for another day. He needed to get back to his crypt so he could feed and regain his strength.

With the wave of his hand, the yellow taxi stopped and Spike ran forward, opening the door and clambering into the back seat. “Thanks, mate,” he nodded to the driver. Leaning back into the seat and pulling the blanket off himself, Spike thanked the powers that be for tinted windows. Turning to his right, he hadn’t even noticed the guy next to him until now. A definite geek, maybe a friend of Willow’s.


"Whatcha got in the box?" Spike smiled and looked down at the cardboard box in the kid’s lap. He leaned over and stuck his hand in, curiously picking up a few folders and random chess pieces.
Looked like a lot of rubbish, but then again, most of Spike’s decorating came from the city dump.

manwhomadewrongchoices sent: Spike...I have a few things of yours. You can come take a look if you want to drop by the offices. It'd be good to see you again.

What the bloody hell are you doing with my things?


Sunnydale kinda reminds me of home.


I did survive an unspeakable hell dimension, Spike. It won’t be that easy to scare me away, I promise.


No, I haven’t. I’ve been reading up on the Hellmouth. I think I’ve even worked out why it attracts to many demons. There’s some sort of magnetic attraction, it’s not just a portal to Hell.

Sorry, luv, always forget you’re a tougher cookie than you look. Not that I’m hungry or anythin’…

That whole magnetic attraction makes sense. That would explain why I keep comi’ back to this hell-hole time after time, at least.

Sunnydale kinda reminds me of home.


I think there’s enough spotlight for you, don’t worry.


He saved my life. He doesn’t have to pay me. Well, other than enough for food, but that’s all really.

You’ll be wantin’ a pay raise once you see what it’s like here on the Hellmouth. If you thought L.A. was bad, you’ve got another thing comin’, sweetheart.

But then again, don’t mean to scare you away; it’s what I’m best at, but I’d like you to stick ‘round. Been to the Bronze yet?

Sunnydale kinda reminds me of home.


Spike, Angel’s not to blame. He came here after it all started. You know we’ve got experience with Wolfram and Hart. 


Well I’m glad to see you. Even if Angel won’t be.

Yeah, yeah, Mr. Dark Avenger here to steal the spotlight like he’s always done.

I just hope he pays you lot a good stipend for doin’ his dirty work.

Sunnydale kinda reminds me of home.


Spike! Oh my god, it’s you! *hugs you then lets go quickly*


Angel’s setting up work here. I came, of course. What are you doing here?

Oh great…Angel’s here. Figures what with all the weird rubbish that’s been goin’ on.

And I live here. Sunnydale’s the closet thing I got to a home sweet home.